“And he’s been missing for nearly five months.” Sophie’s lips trembled at the corners. “I’ve sworn to find him no matter what it takes. But maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”
“Nonsense,” said Anjali. “From what you’ve told me of Vanguard, he’d never abandon his family without a word. Nor do I think he’d do that to you.” Her voice softened. “Do you honestly think he would object to you rescuing him from this camp? After everything we know about this place?”
“You have no idea the sorts of things he objects to,” said Sophie with a wry smile. “I’ve told him once in my life that I loved him. And that was ten years ago under highly emotional circumstances.” She looked down at the desk covered in her notes and sketches. “So yes, I have concerns about overstepping the boundaries of our relationship here. If I bump into him one day in the camp, it’s not like I can say, ‘Oh, hey, this is a crazy coincidence! When did you get here?’”
“That’s something I want to talk to you about,” Anjali said. “Both Will and I agree that if we do find Vanguard in this camp, you need to keep your distance at first.”
Sophie gaped at her. Not going to him if – when – she found him was like telling her to breathe underwater.
“I mean it. You’ll need to get close enough to identify him. But until we can assess his state of mind, it’s better that he not know that you’re here.”
“Why the hell not?” she demanded.
“We don’t know how he’ll react, which is exactly what you’re worrying about right now, isn’t it? He might go ballistic. You want him to start screaming at you in Orlisian in front of the Soviets? That would be game over. Same if he flung his arms around you, sobbing with joy. No, we need to control the situation very carefully, or his life will be at greater risk.”
Sophie mulled that over for a bit. “Good point.”
“Back to your original concern,” Anjali continued. “You’re overthinking things, as usual. If I were imprisoned in a camp with this many people and a fruitcake Commandant, I’d be pretty damn glad to see you. He will be too.”
That made Sophie smile, and she gave Anjali a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. And not just because you’re the best medical director in the field.”
“Me too,” Anjali replied. “By the way, I’m staying back tomorrow. I want to equip the infirmary near the front of the building. It’s got all the basics; we just need to get it working.”
Sophie looked at her in surprise. “Any special reason?” Getting Anjali to take any personal time away from the crisis zone when they traveled to the field was usually a struggle.
“I’d like to set up a simple lab space to culture that pneumonia,” Anjali said. “If it’s bacterial, we can nip it in the bud earlier with the right antibiotic. Maybe even vaccinate.” She winked at Sophie. “Plus, it never hurts to have a little extra space when you might be expecting company.”
They hadn’t even found him yet, and Anjali was already looking after him.
Sophie spent her days in Parnaas working in the office, a prefab hut erected near the camp gates that served as the coalition administrative building. It had a power supply, heat, satellite phone, and – incredibly – openly accessible wireless Internet service. There were strange upsides to a refugee crisis in midst of the developed world. Sophie had no idea whose service they were using, but they were going to get a rude shock next month when they saw the bill.
She did not work alone. For the last four days running, the Commandant had joined her. “Just a social visit,” he assured her each time. “I wish to observe you.”
And observe he did, in total silence from one end of the day to the other. She completed paperwork, wrote reports, and drew up personnel rosters. Responded to calls on her walkie. Members of the coalition came in and out, glancing uneasily at her companion. For the most part, she ignored him and his creepy gaze, although she never allowed herself for a moment to forget he was there.
Today, he finally spoke.
“You are very young, Ms. Swenda.” Sophie started in her seat at the sound of his voice. “May I ask how old you are?”
“Please, Commandant, call me Sophie. I’m twenty-eight years old. I’ll be twenty-nine later this year.”
“So young to be in such a position of authority! How do you find time to tend to the needs of your husband and children while you work a man’s job?”
She hid a grimace of distaste at his question. Clearly, Jaros wasn’t a participant in the cultural revolution around women’s roles that Alex had described to her. “No, I’m afraid I’m too busy to settle down. You know how we Americans are.”
“No children then? Such a pity. You should be respectably married, with two or three babies by now.” He smiled, smiled, smiled. “Why does a young woman choose to work under these unfortunate conditions instead of marrying and starting a family?”
“Altruism, Commandant. I wish to help my fellow man.” She continued her paperwork in silence.