Vanguard (19 page)

~~ - ~~

February 19, 2014

Sophie slept poorly and awoke later than usual, feeling chilled and jittery. She chalked it up to her body having a reaction to the intense stress she had been under for so many months. A hot shower would do her a world of good, she decided. She briefly contemplated going to see Anjali for a checkup, then rejected the idea.

As she approached the showers, she could hear someone in there. She slowed, not wanting to barge into the unisex shower and see more of her coworkers than she’d ever wanted to. Listening for a moment, she smiled, realizing that the occupant was Michael. She tiptoed into the room, hearing him enjoying the hot water. Suddenly, he made a low sound of pleasure that sent a shiver shooting down her spine. Clearly, he felt better.

“I hear you’re enjoying your shower,” she said from just outside, making him yip with surprise. “You sound really sexy in there.”

Michael shut off the water and stepped out with only a towel wrapped around his waist, dripping and grinning mischievously. “You are a dirty-minded woman.” He grabbed her, and Sophie shrieked, trying to twist away. They ended up against the wall, her thin scrubs soaked and his towel more off than on. He stopped her squeals of protest with a long kiss. Despite the illness and the medications running through Michael’s veins, she could feel his body reacting to hers.

“Need some help with that?” She pushed her hips against his growing erection under the towel. “Or were you helping yourself when I came in?”

Michael reddened, and ran his mouth up her throat to her ear. “Yes, you make me touch myself sometimes,” he whispered. “You always have. Do I make you do the same?”

Sophie blushed furiously, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m not answering that question…yet.” She felt a little breathless at the thought of Michael pleasuring himself. “But I will tell you that even when I have lain with other men, I have thought only of you.”

He groaned and ground against Sophie’s pelvis. She let out a squeak that was half surprise, half pain as an unexpected cramp shot through her belly. “Stop! This is…” She struggled for the right word in Orlisian. “…an unseemly place,” she finished with as much dignity as she could muster.

Michael laughed, his voice echoing in the shower room. A moment later, however, his laughter turned to coughing, and he spent a few moments bent double, trying to catch his breath.

“Very well then,
mana mila
,” he said at last. “I can wait until we get to a more seemly place before we continue any further. But I do not wish to hear any complaints if I drive a little faster than you are accustomed.”

~~ - ~~

Michael gunned the engine as the highway in front of them became reasonably smooth. Having cleared the worst of the bombardment damage, he was ready to put some miles behind them. He looked in the rearview mirror again, but no vehicles had followed them; clearly the Soviets had given up tailing the countless coalition vehicles that went in and out of the area to collect supplies.

He glanced over at Sophie sleeping restlessly in the passenger seat beside him. She hadn’t put up a fuss when he’d asked to drive, much to his surprise. Considering how green she looked by the time they cleared the town of Parnaas, he could see why.

“I’m okay,” she’d said when he’d asked how she felt. “But someone should call the Soviet Public Works department about that road.” Her eyes had fluttered shut soon after. Even in her sleep, she protested against his driving, wincing and moaning every time he jammed on the brakes or swerved quickly.
Typical
American.

It took well over three hours to get to Kaliningrad, complicated by the fact that she made him stop multiple times for bathroom breaks.

“I do not remember you having such a small bladder in GYL,” he said as she emerged from the ladies room at the rest stop. She gave him the finger, making him laugh.

Michael had to shake her awake when they arrived in Kaliningrad at the home of family friends who were holding his passport and identification. Sophie squinted at the little house, mouthing the address posted on the mailbox. Michael saw unexpected recognition cross her face, but before he had a chance to ask her what was familiar, an elderly couple appeared on the porch. Their expressions were wary until they realized who had arrived on the doorstep, then they cried out with joy.

Michael leaped from the car and sprinted to embrace them. Velna and Nikolajs had known him since he was a baby, having lived many years in Orlisia. They were thrilled to see him alive and well. He introduced them to Sophie, and Velna looked at him with a knowing expression that made him feel like he was thirteen years old again.

“Come in,” she urged. “Have tea with us.”

They settled into the neat, tiny living room. Velna brought a pot of tea and her delicious
pryaniki
cookies, sweet and spicy with just the right amount of honey. Nikolajs disappeared briefly and returned with an envelope. Michael opened it, his American passport sliding out into his hands. He heard Sophie let out a sudden sign of relief beside him.

He gave them a sanitized version of his experiences over the last several months. At some point in the tale, Sophie excused herself and left the room. Nikolajs was telling Michael about the impact the war had had on the local economy – bringing new business into Kaliningrad but devastating the border towns – when he started to feel uneasy.

Where was Sophie?

Michael glanced at his watch. He couldn’t remember when she’d left the room. Ten minutes ago? Fifteen? Was she not feeling well? Suddenly, the doctor in him started to think. And worry.

All those stops along the road. The warmth of her skin when he had touched her this morning. The little cries every time the car moved too suddenly.

He stood up abruptly. “Forgive me.” His hosts looked at him, startled. “I believe Sophie has been feeling unwell, and I wish to check on her.” Michael found the washroom and tried the door carefully, but it was locked.

“Sophie? Are you all right,
mana mila
?” He heard a faint moaning sound from within. He drew back his foot to kick in the door. Remembering in time that this was not his home, Michael raced to the kitchen to get a knife. He had the lock open in seconds.

She lay on the floor beside the toilet, her body doubled over. Her skin burned, and her shirt was soaked with sweat. “Sophie, what is wrong? What has happened?”

She blinked rapidly, trying to bring his face into focus. “Sick,” she gasped. “Diarrhea, fever, cramps.” She bit her lip as if holding in a shout of pain. “Hurts so much.”

“I will be right back.” He scrambled to his feet to find Velna and Nikolajs. “She is unwell. I need to get her to a doctor, possibly even a hospital.”

“You’ll do better treating her here, my son.” Nikolajs picked up Sophie’s mug with a tea towel to avoid direct contact, and Michael felt a rush of gratitude for the older man’s common sense. “Your presence in a hospital would be questioned, and there would be grave danger for you and Sophie. Many local officials will betray their own mothers for a promised payout. You should treat her here, downstairs, where it is safe.”

“I did not know you had a basement.”

“We do not tell many people about it. Get her and come with us.”

Chapter 12

Michael picked Sophie up off the bathroom floor and carried her through the house behind Velna and Nikolajs. She moaned with every movement he made, and panic climbed up his throat.

They led him through the kitchen, opening the pantry. Nikolajs moved some bins aside and pulled down on a latch. The back of the pantry sprang open to a passageway leading down.

“What is this place?” Michael asked in surprise.

“Our house has served as a hiding place for years.” Velna cleared a path so Michael could carry Sophie through safely. “We helped dozens of political dissidents escape from Orlisia during the first occupation. Your father has sent many people to us for sanctuary over the years. Did you not know this?”

“No,” he said wonderingly, “but I think Sophie did. She seemed to recognize the address.”

“Undoubtedly Max provided her with our information in case of emergency. You will be safe here. Carefully now, it is dark and the stairs are steep.” Michael crept down the stairs, trying not to bang Sophie’s head on anything.

Suddenly a light flared, and he looked around. They stood in a tiny living space, complete with a small kitchen nook, bathroom, and bed. No windows, nothing to reveal to the outside world that this was here. He laid Sophie on the bed where she curled up into a ball.

“You’ll find food and water here,” said Velna. “Simple medical supplies. It’s not luxurious, but it will suffice. Take a few moments to get her settled, then fetch what you need from your car. You should move it to the shed in the back for safety’s sake.” The SUV was a coalition vehicle, so it made sense to conceal it.

“I cannot thank you enough. Give me some time to examine her and talk to the doctor at the camp. Once I have more information, I will speak with you again.”

His benefactors nodded and headed hastily back upstairs, probably fearing that what Sophie had was contagious or dangerous. Or both.

Michael sat on the edge of the bed, and took her hand. “
Mana mila
, I am going to examine you. Is this all right?” She nodded, and he gently pulled her arms away from her torso. He lifted her shirt and probed her abdomen. Her moan turned into a scream as he pressed her tender flesh. Her pulse beat rapidly, and heat blazed from her body. A search of the bathroom produced a thermometer – 104 degrees.
Damn it.

She rolled off the bed and staggered to the bathroom. A few moments later, Michael could hear her vomiting, among other things. Fear crawled all over him. He had treated friends before, even family members. But this was different.

This was Sophie.

He went upstairs and found the bag she’d brought with her into the house. He pawed through it frantically, looking for her cell phone. Thank God Anjali’s number was pre-programmed.

“Having trouble remembering how to do it?” Anjali answered.

“This is Vanguard.” Michael felt like an idiot for using the name.

Instantly, all the teasing fell away from Anjali’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Not sure. She is sick. High fever, chills, abdominal pain and swelling, diarrhea. Some vomiting.” He paused. “Most likely dysentery. I seem to recall she has contracted it in the past on other missions.”

“Sounds like it,” Anjali sighed. “We have it in the camp. She gets it a lot, and it hits her hard.”

“Was she not inoculated before leaving the US?”

“She’s allergic to the vaccination against diarrheal diseases.”

Michael’s heart sank. “It came so hard and fast that I feared it was c-c-c...” He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word. “…something else.”

“Cholera? There hasn’t been any sign of it in the camp for weeks. Is she passing rice water stool?”

“I have not checked yet. I am concerned, that is all.” He hated how weak he sounded, but he couldn’t help himself. The thought of losing her was unbearable.

“I know,” Anjali said kindly. “I had to nurse Will through a severe bout of malaria in India under less than ideal circumstances, and I was a wreck. It’s surprisingly difficult to treat a loved one. You’ll be fine, Vanguard. You’ve probably seen a million cases of this, right? Try to forget it’s Sophie, and let your instincts take over.” She paused. “Did you get the med kit out of the car?”

“There is a med kit in the car?”

“Yes, in the back. All our vehicles have them. You’ll find everything you need there. Are you in a place where you can treat her?”

“Yes, a private home. Good people. I trust them.”

“Fantastic. Better for you to treat her than take her to a hospital. Go get the med kit, and get to work. And, Vanguard…” Michael had nearly hung up the phone but came back at Anjali’s request. “She’s going to be fine, and so are you. Call me as many times as you need.”

“Thank you.” He dropped the phone and ran for the stairs.

~~ - ~~

The kit had the right medications for dysentery, as any field kit should have. Within an hour, he’d gotten the appropriate drugs into her. He debated hanging an IV but decided to wait.

Sophie drifted in and out, rousing only to use the bathroom or sip the rehydration solution Michael had prepared. After a couple of hours, she became too weak to walk, and he started carrying her. At that point, he insisted that he see what she was passing. Somehow, she found the strength to fly into a feeble rage, slamming the bathroom door in his face and locking it.

“You’ve never even seen me naked.” He could hear her panting through another wave of pain as she shouted. “And now you want to look at my…my…
poop
!”

“I am a doctor!” he thundered from the other side of the door. “Seven years of medical school! Right now, I am
your
doctor. You will tell me what is happening!”