The strike team met Friday evening for a final briefing. The team included representatives from all sixteen of the coalition agencies – experts in a variety of fields from medicine to sanitation to logistics.
“Okay.” Sophie gestured for quiet. “Looks like we’re ready to go. I’m going to cover a few housekeeping items, and we’ll get some sleep. We’re going to need it.
“First, I’ve taken temporary leave of absence from RCI while I’m heading up this mission. Will accepted my notice last night.” She heard murmurs in the room. “Consider me a freelancer. I need to be as objective as possible.
“The Rev is my second-in-command.” She nodded to Dave Bryson, the veteran head of one of the biggest Christian relief aid agencies in the US. He and Sophie had their differences about the role of religion in international development, but she had a ton of respect for him. In addition to being a skilled and compassionate aid worker, he was a card-carrying man of the cloth, hence his nickname. Choosing him, and not Will, as her second helped balance things out between the religious and secular factions of the coalition.
“The Rev is the go-to guy if I’m not available. There’ll be times when our philosophies won’t mesh, we know it. The exec team will meet daily to deal with issues that aren’t covered by the protocol we’ve developed. The bottom line is this: if you’re faced with a situation with lives at stake, don’t call a committee meeting. Work the problem, and we’ll fight about it later. I’m not going to bust anyone’s ass for making the best call they could under challenging circumstances. The Rev feels the same way as I do.” Sophie paused. “Not that the Rev busts asses.” A wave of laughter went through the group.
“Last thing I’m going to talk about is Vanguard.” Another murmur from the crowd. Everyone had heard they were to be keeping an eye out for a “person of interest” in the camp. Sophie flipped the computer open and projected an image up on the screen at the front of the room.
“We believe there may be an American citizen caught in Parnaas.” Michael’s passport photo glared down from the wall, but Sophie didn’t react. No one needed to know about the emotional tie between her and Vanguard until he was safely out of Orlisia. If the Soviets discovered a weakness, they wouldn’t hesitate to press it. “Michael Nariovsky-Trent is Orlisian by birth, a US citizen and a former Médecins Sans Frontières doctor. He’s in Orlisia illegally, likely working for the resistance. Last contact was September 10 of last year.” She flipped to an altered image she’d had created.
“He’s probably using the name Mikael Nariovsky. This is a computer-generated image of what he may look like today.” A stranger looked down at them. Michael’s curls were shorn, and the artist had taken thirty or forty pounds off him. “The US government would prefer if Dr. Nariovsky-Trent could be removed from Orlisia as quietly as possible.
“If you encounter this person, do not draw attention. Detain him. Pretend you’ve got a paperwork problem, ask for his help, pull him aside to chat, whatever. Use the walkie to report in. Code word is Vanguard. Remember that our walkie signals will be monitored, so try to be imaginative. Screaming that you’ve found Vanguard is not imaginative.” Everyone chuckled.
Sophie steeled herself for what she had to say next. “This is a secondary mission consideration. Our primary job is to get this refugee camp functioning. We all know there are upward of one hundred thousand people in the camp. Vanguard is just one. Use your judgment. Questions?”
There were a few relating to protocols and scheduling. When they petered out, people started preparing to leave. “One more thing,” Sophie called, and the rustling stilled. “I’d like the Rev to bless the mission. For those of the non-Christian persuasion, substitute the deity of your choice. For the atheists in the crowd – and you all know that includes me – just bow your heads and look serious.”
The Rev took the floor in astounded silence. Everyone knew Sophie vehemently opposed religious involvement in international development and was a proud, self-proclaimed atheist, so this was a surprising – and unifying – move on her part.
“Thanks, Sophie.” The Rev raised his hands. “Lord, we ask for your blessing upon us as we prepare for this important mission of mercy. Help us to do your work. We pray for…” Dave continued, but Sophie had stopped listening. After all she’d seen in the field over the years, she no longer believed that there was a higher power who paid attention to anything going on in the world. But this time, she wasn’t hedging any bets. She’d take any help she could get, including that of a deity she didn’t believe existed.