“Yes,” he said. “He is dead. It would be a significant gesture on your part, Commandant, to allow the coalition to return the body to the young man’s family, wherever they might reside. He did not appear to have any family with him in Parnaas. A fitting end for one who gave his life for the benefit of others. It also demonstrates your willingness to cooperate with Ms. Swenda’s wishes.” There was such a long pause that Michael thought he had lost him for a moment.
“Of the prisoner and his resting place, I care nothing,” said Jaros. “But for Sophie Swenda, I have much respect. If it pleases her to do this, I’ll allow it. I expect the two guards to return to me once the body is disposed of.”
“I believe these gestures will improve your standing with the coalition executive.” Michael glanced out the window as if in surprise. “It is dark. I should return to the camp in order to debrief the team.” He rose and, with an inward shudder, extended his hand to the man who had violated Orlisia’s citizens and mutilated the woman he loved. Jaros shook it, and they walked together to the door, followed by the guards.
“I hope we have the pleasure of future conversations, Mr. Trent.” Jaros turned to him as they reached the door. “For an Orlisian, you have a lively mind. You remind me much of Sophie herself.”
Michael gave his first genuine smile of the entire wretched interview. “That is one of the finest compliments anyone has ever paid me, Commandant. Good day, sir.”
He waited for the bullet to enter his back as he walked across the gravel. The coalition vehicles were gone, save for his SUV and one Jeep. He was shocked to see Will sitting in it, shivering against the encroaching night wind and smoking a cigarette.
“Tobacco is harmful to your health,” Michael grunted as he approached his vehicle.
“So my wife tells me. Which is why I only smoke when I’m hanging around outside refugee camps in the dead of winter waiting for people who have no business being alive to appear at the side of my car.”
He extended the pack to Michael, who took one and attempted to light it off Will’s. Michael’s hands shook so badly that he dropped both in the dirt.
“Rats.” Will cranked the engine, which started with a protesting groan in the cold. “Oh well, better for both of us, I guess. Anjali hates it when I smoke. Are you good to drive, or do you want to come with me? The SUV might survive the night out here. I mean, stranger things have happened.”
“No, I can drive,” Michael said. “But I will follow you as I am less familiar with the road in the dark.” He climbed into the SUV, gunned the engine, and drove out behind the Jeep.
He had created an intricate house of cards, built on illusion, promises, and favors – the currency of Eastern Europe and a building block of the society in which he had grown up.
Almost everything Michael had told the Commandant was true, information provided to him by Maxwell during his conversation that morning. All he’d done was reveal it to Jaros in such a way as to make him look reliably informed. Get one reporter to ask a question that suggested Sophie Swenda’s testimony could carry significant weight when it came to the Commandant’s case. Then tell Jaros a few ways by which he might keep Sophie’s favor.
Almost everything was true. Except that the Soviet Republic would never give up one of its own to the UN Security Council or the International Criminal Court. Maxwell had said as much that morning. Someone had already made the error of making such a suggestion to the Soviet ambassador to the UN. The ambassador had reportedly struck that unfortunate individual in the face.
The Commandant would learn at some point in the future that he wasn’t going be handed over to the International Criminal Court. But for now, the uncertainty of it would keep Jaros in line until the UN could get here. He’d planted the seeds of doubt at exactly the right moment.
As the Commandant had pointed out, the UN would never invade the Soviet Republic to retrieve one man. In the end, Jaros would probably never face justice, although the superpower would no doubt be forced to account on the world stage for the evils he’d committed. The Soviet Republic would conveniently claim ignorance, make token reparations, and the world would continue to turn.
Sophie and the mission were safe. There would be no more mutilations in Parnaas. The Soviet Republic might even make good on those harmed by the Commandant. And ironically, Michael had his life back by faking his own death. The only question was whether his life would be worth living after he faced Sophie that night.
Chapter 15
They were waiting for him when he pulled into the base behind Will.
Michael got out of the SUV and walked toward them. He’d never been afraid of a woman in his life (with the possible exceptions of Sophie and his mother), so it seemed ridiculous that he’d feel fear at the sight of a small female who barely reached his breastbone. However, this was no ordinary circumstance, and Anjali Shah was no ordinary woman.