VANGUARD

“Deep breath in, please. Hold. Now out. Again. Again.” Anjali moved the stethoscope over Sophie’s back, listening carefully. Sophie was the last person on the team to have her field physical done. Anjali did the examination herself in the Situation Room one evening after shooing everyone else home at a reasonable hour for a change.

 

“Arm, please.” She strapped on the blood pressure cuff and pumped it up. Sophie practiced her breathing techniques. Anjali took the pressure again. Then a third time.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s pretty much normal,” Anjali replied. “I thought I’d made a mistake. I figured you’d be through the roof.”

 

“Meditation,” Sophie said knowingly.

 

“Freak.”

 

Anjali went through the rest of the exam thoroughly and professionally. Nobody cared better for the employees of Refugee Crisis International than she did.

 

“You’re fine, good to go,” she said at last. “Your blood work checked out too.”

 

Sophie let out a long breath of relief. Part of her had thought Anjali and Will might try to stop her from going at the last minute, to keep her from doing something insane in Orlisia.

 

“Give me a copy of your immunization record for your file. I don’t want some border official keeping you out after all this just because you don’t have proof of vaccination.”

 

Sophie yanked her shirt on and retrieved the required paper from her briefcase. “Are you ready to go, Anjali?” Her friend nodded but looked troubled. “Will’s uncomfortable that we’re all going, isn’t he?”

 

“Of course he is. The three of us should never go on a mission this risky together. Bad succession planning.” Anjali paused. “But I need to be there.”

 

Sophie put her arm around Anjali, resting her head on her friend’s slim shoulder. “I wouldn’t want anyone else but you and Will by my side,” she said. “We’re unstoppable.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sophie’s language teacher, Alex, dropped by to say farewell before the team headed out. “Don’t forget what I taught you,” he said. “Tell me again, one more time, what I taught you last week.”

 

Grinning, she ripped out a volley of curses in Russian that would make a dock worker blush. Alex laughed delightedly.

 

“No Soviet soldier stands a chance with you. Remember, never show fear. Stand tall and strong.” He embraced her, kissing both of her cheeks. “I love my country, but I believe that whatever is happening in that camp is wrong. I pray you are in time to stop this madness. God be with you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last goodbye was the hardest.

 

She visited Signe and Maxwell the day before the coalition left for Orlisia, sharing with them what she knew about the schedule ahead, and setting up a communication protocol.

 

“The code word is Vanguard,” she said. “I can’t say over an open cell or satellite phone connection that we’ve found an American citizen in the camp. The Soviets would be all over us in seconds, and we might never get him out. I’ll contact you as soon as I can. If you get a message from me that has the word Vanguard in it, it means I’ve got him. Understand?” They nodded, and she saw hope blazing in Signe’s eyes.

 

“A moment of your time upstairs, Sophie,” Maxwell said after she’d handed them the information she had. She wondered if he had another shopping bag full of cash for her, but today he had something different.

 

“Three addresses.” He laid index cards down one by one in front of her. “Safe houses, you understand? One in Finland, two in the Soviet Republic itself. Don’t take those cards with you to Orlisia. Memorize the addresses, then destroy them. Tell them you know me, and they will take you in, hide you. They are completely trustworthy.”

 

“Thank you for this.” Max’s years of diplomatic postings and UN experience were invaluable for information like this. She tucked the cards into her bag, then started in surprise when Maxwell came around the desk to take her hands in his.

 

“You’ve been more than just our connection to the coalition these last few months,” he said, his dark eyes soft. “You’ve been a daughter to us.”

 

Sophie blushed when he said that. She always felt like such an impostor when Michael’s parents treated her like family. But what Maxwell said next shook her to the core.

 

“Mana meita, I know you love my son, love him enough to risk your life many times over. Although he’s never spoken to us directly about his feelings for you, both Signe and I believe he feels the same way. You’ve been wise to establish your careers before settling down. But, Sophie, when you bring Michael home, perhaps you two could get on with the business of being together? Signe and I wouldn’t mind some grandchildren, you know.”

 

Sophie looked at him incredulously, not sure if she should laugh or cry. In the end, she did a little of both.

 

She left the brownstone in the freezing cold, turning one more time to wave to Michael’s parents, who stood on the front step watching her. Signe wept, and Sophie saw Max put his arm around her to guide her back into the house. He waited more than a decade to marry her, she thought suddenly. Four years of which he spent alone, here in New York, praying that the first Soviet-Orlisian war would eventually give her and Michael back to him.

 

Sophie could only hope her own wait would have a similarly happy ending.

 

 

 

 

 

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