VANGUARD(70)

“How do you know she would have fought you? Because you wouldn’t have allowed it if your positions had been reversed?” Anjali’s cheeks flushed red with anger. “What if Sophie had had an allergic reaction to the drug? Or if the dosage was too much for her system so soon after the dysentery? She could have gone into cardiac arrest. You could have killed her!”

Michael shook his head. “I did the wrong thing, and I have admitted to this. But I did not put Sophie’s life in danger. I would die before I allowed that to happen.”

“How are you going to manage after you return to the US?” Anjali demanded. “Sophie works for a frontline aid agency. She faces danger every time she goes to the field. You’re going to fly with her on every trip? Hold her back when she needs to enter a slum or a refugee camp? Prevent her from walking among people who have deadly diseases? Drug her when she doesn’t do your bidding?” Michael flinched away from her words. The thought of Sophie in peril was intolerable. “This isn’t just what Sophie does for a living – this is Sophie! If you love her as much as you say, you have to learn to deal with this.”

“No, I will not do those things. I will find a way to cope with these new realities in my life,” he said shakily. “I love her, Anjali. Please believe me.” Michael turned away, afraid his emotions would overwhelm him. “You can take my medical license if you wish. But I cannot live without her anymore.”

Anjali was silent for a moment, arms crossed. “I’ll have your dinner brought to this room. You’ll stay in here tonight. You will not leave this room except to use the washroom. I’m putting a guard on the door.

“If Sophie wants to talk to you when she wakes up, you’ll be escorted to the infirmary. You will have a short period of time to talk things out. Then you’ll be brought back here for the night. She will stay in the infirmary, and you will stay in this room until 2 p.m. tomorrow when she is released from quarantine. What you two do after that is your own business. The infirmary will be yours to sleep in again should you no longer be welcome in Sophie’s bed.”

Michael nodded, not trusting himself to answer. Anjali turned to leave, then stopped.

“You f*cked up. Sophie loves you so much. She’s waited for you all these years, although she’d never admit it. Then, when you finally get together, the first time – the very first time – you have to make a difficult decision, you take her out of the equation in the most brutal, high-handed way imaginable.” He stood with his head down. “You don’t deserve her,” she said. “And if I have my way, you’re going to spend the next decade on your knees groveling to get her back.”

Anjali left the room. A few minutes later, someone put a tray of food on the bedside table. He didn’t look up to see who it was. Shortly after, Sevastian came to the door, looked in at Michael, then took up his post outside the room. He couldn’t look the guard in the face. Of course, she’d asked one of the Soviets to watch him. The irony would appeal to her.

He lay down on the bed, ignoring the food. The sheets and pillow had a whiff of Sophie on them. He closed his eyes and waited.





-





Sophie started waking around 10 p.m. It took several tries to open her eyes and keep them open. She looked around the room – she was in the infirmary at the base camp, she realized – and found Anjali, masked and gloved, at her bedside. She looked at her friend for a moment, then pushed herself up on her elbows.

“Mish-el.” The word was barely intelligible.

“He’s fine. He’s here in the compound,” Anjali said. “Everything is okay. He’s free. He doesn’t need to go back to Parnaas.” Sophie looked at Anjali suspiciously.

“See him.” Sophie’s mouth felt like it was full of sand.

“You can see him. If you’re sure you want to.”

Sophie frowned, suddenly unsure. Of course she wanted to see Michael. Why would Anjali say such a thing? Sluggishly, she tried to remember what had happened, and how she had ended up in the infirmary. Dysentery. Michael. The UN. The drive home. The pills…

She fell back against the pillows and let the tears run down the side of her face. Anjali looked at her with enormous compassion, then left the infirmary. The doctor returned several minutes later with juice, and began checking and recording Sophie’s vitals.

“It’s shortly after 10 on Thursday night.” Anjali helped Sophie sit up and handed her the juice. “You’ve been asleep for about ten hours. While I vehemently disapprove of the methodology, I’m glad you got a good rest. It’s exactly what you needed.”