by Aisha Tritle
Sophia rubbed her forehead. Maybe she’d already lost hers.
“Do you mind if I clean you up?” asked Ilya.
Sophia stared at him. Then recalled the crusted blood covering her face and body.
She nodded.
Ilya opened a pack of wipes and gently cleaned her face. Sophia looked down at the floor. Her cheeks were flushed. Having him look at her in such close proximity was a little nerve-wracking.
“This blood isn’t yours,” he said.
Sophia choked back a sob. “No.”
“Whose is it?”
“It’s Dr. Roth’s.”
Ilya’s face froze. They sat, listening to the roar of the helicopter as Ilya finished wiping the blood off Sophia. As he packed up the first aid kit and put it away, Sophia wiped tears away from her watering eyes.
She’d basically killed Dr. Roth. He’d died for her. In the last few minutes of his life, his sole purpose had been to help her escape. Sophia snapped out of her thoughts as Ilya put his arm around her. He didn’t say anything, but his touch was comforting. Sophia settled back and gazed out the window.
Dr. Roth had sacrificed his life to save her. She wasn’t going to let him down.
18
A loud knock pulled Sophia awake. She took in her unfamiliar surroundings with stunted breaths. There were Oriental silk tapestries on the walls. She was lying on a bed shaped like a half-circle covered in red silk sheets. Sophia ran her fingers over the soft material. The smooth texture was comforting…but only a little.
She tried to remember where she was—and couldn’t. Her head was pounding.
An antique standing clock on the far wall struck 12. It was of Victorian design; it looked out of place among all the bright finery. Whether it was 12 a.m. or 12 p.m., she couldn’t tell. There were no windows in the room to let in light.
Sophia pulled the silk cover off of her. Gone was the tattered garb she remembered wearing. A white silk robe was the replacement.
Her arm had been bandaged very efficiently. Most of the pain was gone, but she still felt a slight tinge when she moved it.
Another knock resounded. Without waiting for a reply, the door slowly creaked open.
Ilya wordlessly crept in. He was holding a tray covered with three china bowls and a glass of water. Their eyes met as he set the tray in front of Sophia. Ilya froze. He took in the sight before his eyes as if he hadn’t seen her in ages. The fear and tension Sophia had felt began to melt away.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m feeling alright.”
“I’ve brought you some rice, tofu soup, and some…some kind of fried fish.”
An amused scoff escaped Sophia. “That’s an interesting selection.”
“I would’ve gotten you something else, but that’s all they had. It’s what the doctor said to give you…” Ilya’s apologetic voice drifted off.
Dr. Roth’s bloodied face flashed into Sophia’s mind. “What doctor?”
Ilya pulled the covers off the china bowls and handed Sophia a fork. “Dr. Soh. He’s a friend of Jonathan’s.”
Sophia bit her lip. Of course, it wasn’t Dr. Roth. Dr. Roth was dead.
“You don’t sound too convinced of their friendship,” she said.
Ilya’s countenance grew dark. “I’m not convinced that Jonathan is even capable of having friends.” He shook his head as if shaking off his thoughts.
“You gonna try your food?” he asked. “You know, I had to put up a bit of a battle to get you that fork.”
Sophia smirked. “I’m perfectly capable of handling chopsticks.”
“Well, whatever. Forks are easier,” chuckled Ilya.
Sophia took a bite of her rice. “So where are we?”
“The Sierra Nevada Mountains.”
“Are you serious?”
Ilya nodded. “Yep,” he said. “Apparently Dr. Soh was the nearest and most discreet doctor that Jonathan knew.”
Sophia didn’t doubt him. Jonathan’s connections were sparse and eclectic, and Sierra Nevada was a good 400 miles from the desert BASE, if not more. But just how had they gotten to the mountains?
“I don’t remember what happened on the helicopter,” she said.
A puzzled expression crossed Ilya’s face. “You don’t?”
“I mean, I remember getting on the helicopter, and getting bandaged up. But I don’t remember anything after that.”
“Oh…”
Sophia let out a frustrated exhale. “Well, are you going to tell me what happened?”
Ilya’s eyes shifted back and forth. “I guess you passed out,” he said.
“You guess?”
“Yeah…”
“What the heck, Ilya?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, Sophia. You were out. Just…can you finish your food? Finish your food.”
It was obvious he was hiding something—but what? She didn’t have enough energy yet to muscle an answer from him, so Sophia decided to accept his suggestion.
They sat in silence as she polished off the bowls.
“How’s Kristin?”
Ilya didn’t reply.
Sophia repeated her question, “How’s Kristin?”
“Kristin is fine,” said Ilya. His blue eyes veered away from Sophia’s gaze.
The minimal answer piqued her suspicions. “She’s fine?”
“Yep.”
“Ilya.”
“What?”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Ilya rubbed his forehead and sighed. He tentatively took Sophia’s hand. “She won’t be able to come with us to Tokyo.”
“We’re going to Tokyo?”
“Yeah, we’re going to that meeting.”
“We’re going to it?”
“You know what I mean; that meeting is the ideal time to strike.”
“Why won’t Kristin be able to come?”
Ilya opened his mouth to speak—then shut it. Sophia brought her fist down on the bed.
“Ilya, tell me—“
“She’s really weak, Sophia. She ended up losing too much blood, and the only way she or her baby are going to survive is if she’s under constant care.”
A wave of guilt swept over Sophia. Would it have been better to have left Kristin behind? Did she do more harm getting her out than it was worth?
Sophia pushed her tray to the side. “I want to see her.”
“No, you can’t!” The words tumbled quickly out of Ilya’s mouth.
Sophia got up and walked towards the door. Ilya grabbed her hand to stop her.
“Why can’t I see her?” asked Sophia.
“She’s really weak right now. It’s not a good idea.”
“I just want to see her. I don’t even have to talk to her. She won’t be bothered.”
Sophia wrung her hand free. Ilya slammed his back into the door before she could open it.
“What are you doing?”
“You can’t see her,” said Ilya.
Now he was starting to annoy her. Sophia gritted her teeth. “Why are you being like this?”
“I already told you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Ilya sighed again. “It’s just not a good idea.”
“Ilya, I swear, if you don’t get away from the door. I will pull you away myself.”
Sophia knew he was way stronger than she was. But she’d find a way. What he said next, however, completely pushed the thought out of her head.
“Sophia, she attacked you.”
Sophia felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “What?”
“That’s why you don’t remember what happened,” said Ilya, his voice low. “She smashed your head against the side of the copter. She’d been messing around in the med kit—apparently, she’d grabbed a sedative. I’m not quite sure she knew what it was. I should have been paying attention, but I was almost asleep. When I grabbed her, she clawed her way out for a second and managed to get you with it…you were
dazed. She got you right in the neck.”
Sophia stumbled back on the bed in disbelief.
“I managed to grab her and sedate her as well,” said Ilya. “She’s volatile. You have to be careful.”
Sophia’s head was beginning to pound again. She covered her face with her hands. “Why would she do that?” she asked, voice muffled.
It didn’t make sense. Kristin was her best friend.
Ilya sat down next to her. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.
Sophia got up. She needed an answer. “I need to see her,” she said.
Ilya hesitated before speaking. “You can see her,” he said. “But she’s sedated right now. You won’t be able to talk to her.”
“That’s okay,” replied Sophia.
She went out the door. The style of the room she’d been in spread cohesively into the rest of the house. There was the occasional Oriental tapestry, along with imposing statues of Korean warriors.
“She’s this way,” said Ilya, taking her hand.
Sophia followed him, her feet padding along the polished wood floor. The back of the house was a continuous sheet of glass—almost like BASE—except it extended to a deck that ran the entire length of the house.
The view out the window was gorgeous: tree-covered mountains, blue sky. But the sunshine that fell through the window did little to bring Sophia out of the dark funk she was in.
Ilya kept looking around, as if some person with dark intentions was hiding in the nooks and crannies.
He stopped at a large wooden door. “Just wait here for a second,” he whispered.
He disappeared into the room. A moment later, his head popped out. “Alright,” he said, pulling her in.
The room was more clinical than the one Sophia had been in; there were fewer furnishings and a metal sink poked out from the far wall. Still, it looked nothing like the med rooms back on BASE.
Kristin lay on a wide bed, an IV flowing into her arm. Despite the injuries she’d acquired the day before, she looked…healthy. Her cheeks were slightly pink, and the perpetual dark circles under her eyes were gone.
Sophia cautiously approached the bed.
“You alright?” asked Ilya.
“I’m fine.”
Sophia felt a knot beginning to form in her stomach…had she made a mistake? She must have. She’d pulled her best friend out without even checking to see if that was what Kristin had wanted. But she still believed she’d made the right choice. Staying in Occidis would have killed her in the end.
Sophia knelt down and gently touched her friend’s arm. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Of course, there was no reply.
Sophia sat at the bedside for a few minutes, saying nothing. Finally, Ilya nudged her shoulder. “We should go,” he said. “We’re actually not supposed to be in here.”
“Okay, one sec.”
Sophia stood up, then leaned over and kissed Kristin’s forehead. Whatever transgressions Kristin had committed against her didn’t matter; the girl was still her best friend.
“We can go,” said Sophia. She followed Ilya towards the door—but someone was already waiting for them outside of it.
An old, rather shriveled, Asian man blinked at them. The fact that his body was still capable of functioning seemed incredible to Sophia.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
He was bundled up in woolen clothes. Sophia almost broke into a sweat looking at him. The environment in the house was balmy already. How was he not dying of heat stroke?
“I said, ‘what are you doing?’” The old man pushed them out of the room, followed them, and closed the door.
“It’s my fault, Dr. Soh,” said Ilya. “I thought she should see Kristin.”
Dr. Soh’s judgmental gaze fell on Sophia, then went back to Ilya. “Does she know what happened?”
“Yes,” said Sophia. “I do.”
The old doctor clicked his tongue. “Sad business,” he said. “It’s a very sad business.”
He started shuffling down the hall. “Jonathan wants to see you,” he said.
“Which one of us?” asked Ilya.
“Both,” snapped Dr. Soh. He began leading them up a staircase to the second floor. Suddenly, the doctor turned around. His eyes narrowed as he studied Sophia for a moment. With a low grumble, he turned back around.
A solid oak door, much like the one to Kristin’s room, was at the end of the hall. Dr. Soh stopped right before it. “Go in,” he said, then turned around and shuffled away.
Ilya turned the handle, and Sophia followed him in. The room was a study, filled with a polished desk, leather chairs, books, and a fully lit fireplace. Sophia tugged uncomfortably at her robe.
Jonathan got up from his chair behind the desk. He looked inexplicably fresh, as if he’d been kept on ice all day.
Sophia started as Jonathan wrapped his arms around her.
“I’ve screwed up royally, Sophia,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
Sophia said nothing, not quite sure how to respond.
“I should’ve never let them take you,” said Jonathan.
A memory dawned upon Sophia; he hadn’t been there when the handlers had taken her.
“Where were you?” she asked.
Jonathan cleared his throat as he sat back down. “I was in a meeting,” he said.
“A meeting with who?”
If Jonathan hadn’t been there to help, the least he could do was tell her where he was...but Sophia had a feeling he wouldn’t.
“Someone very important,” he said.
Ilya scoffed and looked away in contempt.
“Don’t be fooled by Dr. Soh’s appearance,” said Jonathan, nodding towards the oak door. “He’s legit. We met when I was on an undercover op a while back. He was the go-to doctor for much of China’s elite until he helped us. Now he’s hidden out here.”
Of course Jonathan would change the subject. Sophia clenched her fists. Her nails dug into her skin, but she didn’t care.
“You’re starting to look better, Sophia,” said Jonathan.
“Thanks.”
There seemed to be a perpetual veil covering Jonathan. He seemed strangely satisfied and complacent, but was he actually?
“I was going to delay sending you away,” said Jonathan. “But now it looks like I won’t have to.”
Sophia and Ilya both stared at him, confused.
“You’re sending us away?” asked Ilya.
Jonathan’s eyes drifted from Sophia. His mouth pursed in distaste as he looked at Ilya. “Yes, I am.”
“Where are you sending us?”
“We don’t have much time left,” said Jonathan. “And I need to put a plan together—I don’t have time to train you. I’m sending you to someone who’s going to help prepare you for what’s coming.”
“We don’t get to help you plan?”
“There are some things you can’t help with,” Jonathan replied.
And that was it. Ilya crossed his arms. Sophia sat on the edge of the desk. They knew it would be pointless to argue with Jonathan.
“Where are you sending us?” asked Sophia.
It seemed Ilya was in no mood to even speak to the man opposite him.
“I’m sending you to my friend Saren,” said Jonathan. “You’ll be on a flight tomorrow afternoon.”
“A flight to where?” asked Sophia.
Jonathan’s skeptical gaze shifted to Ilya again. He studied the blond man for a minute before replying.
“Saren’s going to meet you on an island called Enoshima—it’s about two hours from Tokyo,” he said.
“What!” blurted Ilya. “You’re sending us to a location that’s only two hours away from our target point and expecting us to stay there for the next two weeks?”
“You seem to think there’s something wrong with that,” Jonathan calmly replied.
“They’re having their meeting in Tokyo,” said Ilya, his voice rising. “They’re going to be having preliminary su
rveillance in Tokyo and the surrounding areas.”
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know this?”
Bewilderment crossed Ilya’s face.
“It’s obvious,” he said.
“How is it obvious?”
“If you were them, isn’t that what you would do?” asked Ilya. “They’re cautious people. They’re not stupid.”
The sharp inhale from Jonathan caused Sophia to turn her head. It was obvious that, despite him and Ilya working together to rescue her, the distrust between the two men was still there. Jonathan’s nostrils were flaring, and the Ilya’s cheeks were flushed with rage.
The tense staring session continued for almost a minute before Jonathan redirected his focus to Sophia.
“A car will take you to the airport at 3 p.m. tomorrow,” he said.
Ilya sighed. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Jonathan’s head snapped towards him. “I think you’ll find my judgment supersedes yours, Ilya.”
Sophia stood, unsure of who was the wiser. Ilya had the advantage of familial knowledge, but Jonathan was ex-SAS—and his age brought more experience.
Ilya’s face flushed a deeper shade of red. Sophia knew a multitude of cutting words would pour out of him if he opened his mouth. But Ilya bit his tongue. With a shake of his head, he strode out of the room.
As soon as he left, Jonathan chuckled.
“What?” asked Sophia. There was a touch of bitterness in the chuckle that piqued her interest.
“He’s smarter than I thought he was.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty smart.”
“Which means you have to be all the more careful,” said Jonathan.
His attitude annoyed Sophia. “Seriously? This again?”
Jonathan came out from behind the table and took her hand. “If I’d been there, you would never have been taken,” he said.
Sophia ripped her hand away from him. “Ilya did the best he could.”
“If I’d—“
“You weren’t there. And you won’t tell us where you were. So stop acting all grand and big and… and… superior. Because you didn’t do anything about it, and there’s no proof that you could have.”
Jonathan’s face froze. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him.”
Sophia felt her cheeks starting to get warm. “What?”
