The exec committee had finished a lunch meeting and was cutting through the administrative compound when Anjali gasped. Will swung around to follow her gaze. Incredibly, Michael was striding across the compound toward the Commandant’s office with a look of ferocious determination on his face.
Will waved everyone else back and took off, racing across the muddy gravel toward him. Michael saw him, but didn’t break stride. Will skidded to a stop beside him, alarmed by the intensity in the younger man’s eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Will glanced around to see if any of the guards had spotted his headlong sprint across the open ground.
“Dealing with this in my own fashion.”
“By choosing to commit suicide?” he asked in disbelief. Michael glared at him, and some hazy part of Will’s mind registered that the younger man was wearing his clothes. Including my cowboy boots! That made him pissed. “I can’t believe Sophie let you to come here.” Will saw a flicker of emotion on Michael’s face, then the blank glare returned.
“She does not know I am here,” he admitted.
Will could only imagine what kind of deception had gone into that accomplishment. “Michael, seriously. What are you doing? If you walk in there, you’ll die or be interred here again. What will happen to Sophie if you get killed?”
“She is safe, and that is all that matters. I will not allow her to put herself in any more danger because of me.” His face softened a bit. “Will, I appreciate your concern. Truly I do. But I do not permit others to fight battles on my behalf. I must try this my way.” Will wanted to point out that trying this his way might be the last thing he ever did, but Michael silenced him with a look.
“Please. I can do this.” His voice was strained. “I can buy back my own life and ensure safety for the people – my people – still trapped in this place. If I had had time for a more collaborative approach, I would have done so. But I have an opportunity at this moment that will not come again. I must try.” He held his hand out. Will stared at it for a moment, then shook it. “If I leave this camp alive today, I believe you and I could end up being friends,” Michael said unexpectedly.
“I’d like that.”
“Look after her for me.” He swallowed, his voice rough. “If this does not work, get her back to New York, away from this place. Take her to Carter, to our class. The class will care for her.”
Will nodded. He wanted to ask Michael if there was any personal message for Sophie, but he knew he wouldn’t tell him even if there was.
Michael turned and walked through the front door of the Commandant’s office. Will saw him put his hand into his pocket and draw something out as he did. He waited for the gunshots that would end Michael’s life. And Sophie’s sanity.
-
Michael reached into his jacket pocket and held up his US passport as he stepped through the door. This turned out to be wise, as both guards standing in the room had their weapons up and trained on him as soon as they realized he was a stranger.
“Wait.” An older man, hair more white than black, dressed in the uniform of a higher-ranking Soviet officer, gestured to the guards. They lowered their weapons. The officer continued writing at his desk for a minute more, then put his pen down and looked up. It took every ounce of strength in Michael’s body to smile at him.
“Commandant Jaros?” he asked in English, flattening his inflection to make himself sound American. He’d learned as a teenager how to mimic an American accent to avoid questions from annoying schoolmates. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. My name is Mike Trent.” He gave the guards a nervous glance, then edged forward, passport held up in front of him like a shield. “Please don’t shoot me.”
“Welcome.” The Commandant smiled in amusement at Michael’s timid approach. “Please, sit down. My guards will not harm you.”