Vanguard (11 page)

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Authors: CJ Markusfeld

Tags: #behind enemy lines, #vanguard, #international, #suspense, #international aid, #romance, #star crossed lovers, #romantic suspence, #adventure action romance, #refugee

BOOK: Vanguard
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“Here’s a list of the symptoms we’re watching for.” Sophie handed him a handwritten paper. “High fever, heavy chest congestion, cough, chills, shortness of breath, mucus with blood...lots of good stuff.” Jim tucked the paper into his breast pocket. “Make sure you mask up and wear gloves. I don’t want to see your old ass in the infirmary.”

His seamed face broke into a grin, and he mussed her hair. Few people on the mission – on the face of the earth – could get away with that.

“I’ve got vehicles on standby to pick up anyone who can’t walk to the infirmary,” she continued. “Everyone should take a translator. Oh, and Commandant Jaros gave us extra guards to accompany you around the camp.”

“They’d probably shoot ‘em instead of sending them down to the infirmary,” Jim said in a low voice.

“The first person who fires a weapon on my watch is going to wish he didn’t.” Sophie smiled sweetly, and Jim cackled with laughter, turning to gather up his group. She could hear him organizing people into teams, dividing up the grid and getting down to business.

She returned to the office, ate lunch at her desk, and spent the next couple of hours securing the supplies Raj had requested. Between the satellite phone and the computer, she tracked down most of what he needed for immediate delivery to Kaliningrad. She’d send a truck the next day to pick it all up. They’d need more volunteers and staff from local NGOs too. She pulled the exec team together to make that happen through their local partner agencies. Jaros watched all of this closely, his beady eyes never leaving Sophie.

“You enjoy this,” he said after she disconnected from her last call and leaned back in her chair for a stretch.

“I do,” she admitted. She loved the excitement of being in the field. Her greatest regret now was that she couldn’t be with Anjali in the infirmary, working the problem hands on. But Sophie was charged with holding the mission together, and, as non-medical staff, she’d only be in the way. “I enjoy a challenge.”

“If there is a massive outbreak of a lethal disease in this camp, your mission will fail. You would not achieve your goal.”

She watched his face carefully for clues. “I will not fail,” she boasted. “I will find a cure for the pneumonia and save the camp. I will gain more accolades.” Sophie hadn’t told the Commandant how close they were to finding a proper drug. She preferred to let him believe the situation was less in hand.

“Some will die.”

“A price that must be paid.” She kept her tone nonchalant.

“I would be unhappy if many died,” Jaros mused. “This is Soviet Republic’s future workforce. They belong to me.”

“You will have your workforce, Commandant. Only the very old, young, and weak catch bacterial pneumonia. They aren’t useful to you anyway.” Sophie looked at him slyly. “As long as it does not spread to the healthy young men – the most valuable workers – you’ve no cause for concern.” For a second, she saw his eyes change. Then he went back to his usual smiling self.

Sophie had found Commandant Jaros’ motivation.

 

~~ - ~~

 

For the first time, the medical team spent the night in Parnaas. For security reasons, they usually left the camp at sundown to return to Soviet territory for the night. Sophie debated ordering them back, but there was no point. Anjali would not leave patients in this kind of a crisis. Will was beside himself with fear for his wife. Sophie took one look at him that evening and decided to give him a job the next day to distract him as much as possible.

She spent half the night reworking the mission plan and allocating the new staff they’d obtained from the local NGOs. Found a truck and driver to pick up the needed supplies in Kaliningrad. Paced the floor in her office. Stared at the agar plates, as if looking at them could somehow speed the culturing process.

Late in the night, she received an email from Alex. She stared blankly at the note, not understanding why he was writing with all this stuff about the quirks of Soviet patriarchal society. Then she remembered the question she’d sent the night before. Sophie reread his response with new interest, then did more research online. Very intriguing. She dragged herself to bed around 2 a.m., her eyes feeling like sand.

She slept badly, dreaming once again that the camp was empty. The door to the infirmary banged in the wind. Everyone was gone – the refugees, Anjali, Will, the Commandant. She screamed for Michael, but there was no answer. From anyone.

 

~~ - ~~

 

February 11, 2014

 

The next day was hell.

In the plus column, the new medical building was nearly complete. The workers they’d brought in the previous day had made great progress, and the winter morning rang with hammers. It wasn’t pretty, but it had a roof.

But the other column had marks in it too. Raj reported that ten more patients had died of the pneumonia during the night, and another six were unlikely to live out the day. Twenty-seven new cases had come in overnight, and the day had just begun.

Twelve more hours until they had the cultures.

Jim’s search teams turned up half a dozen new cases before lunch, most among the elderly. Many of these patients resisted being taken to the infirmary, convinced that the Soviets would find a way to kill them there. It made Sophie think of Signe and her bitter hatred of the Soviet Republic. To add insult to injury, it had snowed nearly six inches overnight.

Jaros observed Sophie with great interest. “You remain confident.”

“Of course,” she replied. “We’re taking the right steps. I have faith in my teams. We will succeed.” Most of this was true. They were doing the right things, and she had total faith in the people on this mission. She just wished she knew for sure they could get this thing stopped. But damned if she would show any weakness to this bastard.

“Now what will you do?”

She turned in her chair and smiled. “Now, Commandant?”
Don’t let him see how much effort this takes!
“I think I will take lunch. Will you join me?”

He eyed her for a moment, then laughed. “I’m impressed,” he chortled. “Not only cool headed and confident in a crisis, but firmly in the seat of power. Many would not be able to resist being in the thick of things by now. You are wiser.” He called to his guards and ordered them to bring food. “It is truly a shame that you were not born a Soviet man, Sophie. I would have you for my second-in-command myself.”

 

~~ - ~~

 

Commandant Jaros and Sophie sat across from each other as usual when lunch arrived.

“Tell me, Sophie,” the Commandant said, “is this your first visit to the Soviet Republic?” It drove her nuts that Jaros referred to this camp – which was on the Orlisian side of the border – as Soviet territory, but she ignored it.

“I spent two weeks in your country at the age of seventeen.”

Jaros pressed her for details of her visit, which she provided freely, although she deliberately glossed over any references to the Global Youth Leadership program. While she didn’t doubt Jaros had done research into her, Sophie wanted nothing to do with a topic that could connect the dots between her and Michael Nariovsky-Trent. Especially if he happened to turn up in Jaros’ camp in the near future.

The conversation had reached a lull when her walkie crackled. Jim’s voice sounded scratchily over the wire. “Will, you there?”

“Yeah, Jim. What’s the story?” Will’s voice floated back.

“I’ve got a bad case of pneumonia in section Tango 29. Male patient, hard to judge his age. These guys all look pretty weathered to me. Maybe in his thirties. Wondering if you could send a Jeep over right away.”

The Commandant’s eyes narrowed. “You seem to have a larger problem on your hands than anticipated,” he said coldly. “I’m displeased to hear the disease is gaining a foothold among the adult male population.”

“A larger problem, Commandant? Or a greater opportunity?”

They locked eyes in silence for a long moment.

Jim’s voice issued eerily from the walkie on the table between them. “He’s sharing a shelter with about ten other lads, so we’d better get some meds into them, too. Otherwise, this fellow will end up leading all of them into the fray.”

Leading all of them into the fray…

Sophie’s heart started to pound.
Does Jim realize what that means?

“Say, while I’ve got you, Will, maybe you can help me out with something. I’ve got a crossword puzzle clue that I’m stuck on.”

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.

“It’s an eight-letter word. Clue is ‘the leading units moving at the head of an army.’ Any idea what that might be?”

Jim was being ridiculously imaginative.

Without taking her gaze away from the Commandant’s, she picked up the radio and activated the priority override function. The frequency went quiet, ready for her to speak. Her heart thundered in her chest, every nerve in her body stretched taut.

Remember, confidence. Never show fear.

“Vanguard,” Sophie said into the radio. “The answer is Vanguard.”

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

What she did next was impossible, yet somehow she did it.

Sophie set the radio down and picked up her fork. She kept her forearms pressed as hard as she could against her body to control the shaking that threatened to give her away. The Commandant could not suspect that the patient on his way to the infirmary was special. She continued to eat her lunch, ignoring Jaros’ disapproving gaze.

“Crossword puzzle clues?” he asked contemptuously.

The food in her mouth tasted like wallpaper paste, and it took a superhuman effort for her to swallow it down. “You think that I tolerate too much familiarity from my staff.” She sipped from her water bottle. “You may be right. I admit to having a weak spot for this man. His age and experience, you know.” She hoped the idea of honoring her elders would resonate with the Commandant’s traditional view of the world.

It seemed that it did, as he returned to his food without further comment. When the walkie crackled again, she wiped her palms, slippery with sweat, on her jeans so she wouldn’t leave telltale handprints on the radio.

“Sophie, do you have ten minutes to join me at the infirmary?” Will asked. He was holding his composure well, considering the bomb that had just been dropped. She took a quiet cleansing breath and shoved her raging emotions back down inside.

“Can it wait a bit, Will?” She made her voice sound casual, a bit bored. “I’m eating lunch with the Commandant. I’ll be over in about half an hour. Unless it’s a real emergency?”
Please hear me, Will. Please understand what I’m saying.

“Nothing that can’t wait thirty minutes. I’ll let Dr. Shah know you’ll drop by later.”

Sophie gave silent thanks to Will, and turned back to the wretched food in front of her.

“Now, where were we, Commandant? The distinction between problem and opportunity…”

 

~~ - ~~

 

Sophie walked out of the administrative building, shrugging into her flak jacket. Her two favorite Soviet guards lounged against the building, enjoying a quick smoke. They crushed out their cigarettes and climbed into the Jeep with her. Both of them, she noticed with a tight smile, held onto the door handles in anticipation of a wild ride.

Eight minutes later – a new personal record – they arrived at the infirmary. She jumped out of the vehicle and paused.

“A moment, gentlemen.” She ducked into the portable toilet near the building, and prayed they couldn’t hear her as she vomited up her lunch. Then she sat down on the only available seat and ran through a series of breathing exercises to regain control. She didn’t think it was quite the environment her meditation instructor had had in mind when teaching these techniques, but one worked with what was available in the field.

Sophie’s babysitters chose not to enter the infirmary. They’d suffered the wrath of Anjali once for entering the building with their guns, and they had no desire for a repeat performance. Of course, the infectious pneumonia might have played a role in their reluctance, but Sophie’s money was on Anjali.

She donned mask and gloves, and entered the building. Will stood right inside waiting for her. Once the door closed behind her, he stepped in front of her to block her path.

“No farther. You know the risks if he sees you.”

But Sophie could no longer hear him.
Michael was here.

She didn’t need to see his face. She didn’t need to hear his voice. She never had. His presence washed over her like a wave. Her eyes opened; she hadn’t even been aware that she’d closed them. Will’s expression above his mask was startled.

“Sophie?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” She drew a deep breath, the stink of the camp, disinfectant, and death rushing into her lungs. “It’s Vanguard. I know it.” Another breath. “How do you want to do this? It’s not like we have a room with one-way glass in it.”

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