VANGUARD(48)

She resisted the urge to make a rude comment. “No, I don’t think that would be wise at all.” She opened the bottle of vodka she had brought in and poured three shots. “Your health.” Both drank the liquor straight down. “I would like you to tell the Commandant a different story.” She refilled their glasses.

“What do you offer us in return for this different story?” Sevastian accepted the fresh shot with a nod of thanks.

“Naturally, we want you to remain as our guests here. Continue to enjoy our food and drink, our hospitality.” Sophie knew the accommodations here were more pleasant than those in Parnaas. The coalition building had more reliable hot water, electricity, and other amenities. “You may, of course, keep the remaining vodka. And the second bottle as well.” She gestured to the table where an unopened bottle sat. “You may also share this.” Sophie handed them a fat brown envelope.

Sevastian picked it up and opened it, his big fingers surprisingly dainty as he counted the American bills inside. He nodded to Sergei, then turned back to her. “For this, we can tell a different story.”

She smiled. “To doing business together, today and in the future. If this transaction goes well, we will have a prosperous arrangement for the next while,” she said, raising her glass. Their eyes lit up as they considered the potential for future rewards as well as the one before them.

Sophie had just bought some time.

“Here’s what I’d like you to tell Commandant Jaros…”





-





February 17, 2014





Michael had been asleep for hours by the time Sophie returned to the infirmary. It took a while for her to settle down enough to sleep. She got up twice in the night to change his IV fluids, a task that she had become so proficient at that the nurses allowed her to do it. Michael’s long, rattling coughing fits woke them a dozen more times. In other words, a restless night.

Still, she awoke before the sun rose. They spooned against each other, his leg flung over hers and his arm tight around her ribs. His raspy snores ruffled her hair. She knew she had to get up to consult with the Rev before he went into Parnaas, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Too comfortable. Too warm. Too everything.

Not yet. She had to get him away from Commandant Jaros and back to the US without endangering a camp jammed full of innocent people and the mission itself. She couldn’t do it without all her faculties.

Sophie gently removed his arm from around her ribs and wiggled out of bed. He made a small sound in his sleep as she slipped from his grasp. She leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth before she left.





-





Sophie stood beside the Rev’s Jeep as he prepared to drive into Parnaas, repeating to him the story she’d given Sergei and Sevastian last night.

“I need time, Dave. Buy me some time. That’s all I ask.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She watched the convoy roll away, wishing she could go with them. But she belonged here now. With a sigh, she walked back to the infirmary.

Michael was finishing a small plate of eggs and dry toast, his first solid food in several days. “Good?” she asked. He let out an ecstatic whimper. “Want more?” He nodded. She walked down the hallway and got him seconds of the unappetizing food, which he ate with frightening zeal.

He insisted on getting to and from the shower under his own steam, albeit slowly and very painfully. When he returned, Sophie sat cross-legged on his bed with a serious look on her face.

“I am in trouble?” he joked, sitting down beside her.

She dried his feet thoroughly, applied the ointment Raj had prescribed, then started wrapping his toes. Michael tried to push her aside so he could do it, but Sophie knocked his hands away. They glared at one another.

“Yesterday, I talked. Today, you talk.” She smoothed the bandage neatly around the ball of his foot. “Where’s your passport? I doubt it’s stuffed in your pocket, and you’re going to need it to get out of here.”

“It’s in Kaliningrad,” he said. “I left my identification there before I crossed the border into Orlisia. It can be easily retrieved.”

She stared at him in surprise. “You left your passport in the Soviet Republic? Where?”

“With family friends.” He raised his heavy eyebrows at her expression. “Not all Soviet people wish to see Orlisia enslaved, you know. Perhaps you have been spending too much time with my mother.” She looked down, feeling her face redden with embarrassment.