Chapter 2
***
He had just lit his cigar when his phone rang. Jared took a drag from his cigar and hurriedly picked up the receiver.
"Yes."
- Jared, it's Jim Meyer from External Strategy.
"Come in."
- Yes.
It wasn't the call he had been waiting for. Rather ominously, Jared leaned back in his chair and snapped his fingers to relieve the tension.
With a click, the door opened and a man removed his bowler hat and greeted him.
"Jared."
"Jim."
His heels clattered in the large office. He paused in a very awkward spot, looking hesitant. The gloves he hadn't taken off told him he couldn't wait to get out of here.
"What's going on?"
"Bigfoot.................. has been captured."
"By whom?"
"A man named Wallendorf.................."
Jim killed his voice with a glare at Jared, who slammed the hand holding his cigar down on the desk.
"Fucking fascists."
Bigfoot was the hardest-working intelligence operative in the Allied Strategic Office. He was Jared’s best colleague, his subordinate, his last pupil, the last one he had nurtured under his watch for ten years.
"Who's the closest agent to you?"
"Snowman."
The agents all had nicknames. Names changed all the time, and real names were withheld wherever possible for security reasons. It was a policy within the Alliance.
"Is he trustworthy?"
"I hand-picked them."
The Cold War was a time of deceit, deception, and eating each other under calm waters. Three years ago, after the discovery of a Dochen rat infiltrating counterintelligence, Jared had to throw away all the cards he held and start over.
It's been a slippery slope ever since. He was a shoe with no laces, having been publicly discredited by both Counterintelligence and the Office of Strategic Affairs, where he worked. To regain the trust of the Allies, he had to be both effective and cautious.
"I want you to find out where Bigfoot is, somehow."
"Yes, sir. And what do you want me to do once I find him, rescue him?"
"No."
No. Rescue would be impossible. Willendorf was reputed to be the most cruel and cold-hearted of all the agents under Clerk Raoul, and no agent had ever been caught and not confessed. Never before had he infiltrated the government of Dochen, even in times of war, with so little success.
The man was also meticulous and ruthless, so if Bigfoot was discovered by Willendorf, there was no chance of rescue. Instead, the only mercy that could be offered to him was.
"Kill him."
Let him tread painlessly on the soil of heaven.
***
Sasha wiped the red blood that the child coughed up with each cough. She didn't realize it was getting late as she held his hand and cooled his wet forehead as he feverishly tried to keep his eyes open.
"Sasha, my heart hurts so much."
The child's voice was thinner than his lifeline.
"You took the medicine, it'll get better, just hang in there."
Bobby, now just nine years old, was in the same situation as Sasha. She was left alone, Bobby was abandoned, but both were orphans anyway. After being brought to the ward by a passerby who found him lying on the street, he became Sasha's sole responsibility.
His care, hospital bills, and medication were all paid for by Sasha from her own salary. Without Sister Aretha's help, it would have been too much to bear.
"Am I dying?"
Each of his breaths made a wheezing sound. His airway was constricted.
"No, you're not dying. Sister Aretha told me, God said it wasn't your turn yet."
"She's lying."
Sasha rinsed the hastily heated washcloth in cold water again and placed it on Bobby's forehead.
"Sister Aretha doesn't lie."
"No. All grown-ups lie."
"...."
"Sasha just doesn't know it yet."
The boy spoke as if he were ninety years old, even though he was only nine. Sasha stroked his little hand and smiled.
"You're still young, Bobby. There's plenty of time for miracles to happen to you. You promised me you'd take me to a new place across the ocean someday."
Bobby always said he would marry Sasha and take her across the ocean to a faraway place. Where there was no poverty, no war, no lies, no death. Where there would be flowers and fruit everywhere, and where whatever you planted in the fertile soil would grow in abundance.
Sasha listened intently each time, even though it was nothing more than daydreaming. Like all people with painful lives, she dreamed of utopia. She hoped every day that somewhere, somewhere, there was no pain.
"But you still have to live for another ten years, and then you can marry me."
"I heard people talking, there's going to be a war soon."
Sasha had heard, too, while walking around the hospital courtyard at lunch. Dochen soldiers were massing right on the border. Government officials and embassies of countries that know about it were already fleeing the country.
"It's a rumor. They often spread such rumors in the newspapers and on the radio."
"I hope I die before there is a war, the soldiers are scary."
"....."
The child mumbled to himself and then closed his eyes sleepily. Sasha tucked Bobby's blanket carefully over him and left his bedside. The sound of children coughing could be heard all around. Caregivers and nurses sweated as they paced the spacious ward.
"Sasha."
She had just rounded the corner when Sister Aretha called out to her, her hand raised. In her hand she held a bundle of cloths that must have been used to wipe up someone's sweat and dirt, and her face was filled with concern.
"How is Bobby?"
Sasha let out a small sigh of frustration and answered,
“I'm just hoping he makes it through today."
"He's a hard-headed kid, he'll get through it."
"Sister Aretha."
"Huh?"
"Is there a war coming soon?"
Sasha hesitated, then asked. It had been ten years since the end of the war, and there had been countless times since then when the sense of danger of war breaking out again had been heightened, but never as seriously as now.
“Are embassies from each country really leaving here?”
"Well, I don't know. I don't know about that. But I have heard that more and more people are packing up and crossing the South Atlantic. Not because of war, but because it's hard to make a living, and this place is nothing but ruins."
"...."
Sister Aretha rubbed Sasha's shoulder affectionately, then brushed past her. Sasha's legs gave out, and she slumped down in the hallway's easy chair.
There's no way there's going to be another war. They were all living in such hardship and poverty because they had spent all their resources on killing each other, and what if there's another war now? There's no one left to survive then. They would perish in the literal sense of the word.
“People think the war is over, but it's not. You don't want to lose your land, the land you've worked so hard to build, again, do you?”
Sasha suddenly remembered Jared’s words, the weight in his voice. Sasha dug into her pocket and pulled out the note he'd handed her. She'd always kept it with her, too anxious to throw it away, even though she knew it couldn't be true, she was no different from anyone else.
It had always been in the back of her mind that one day this ruin could be reduced to ashes. That she might be lucky enough to survive, but that she could die at any moment.
She was scared to meet a man, to start a family, to have children, to live. The more she had to protect, the more her fears would grow. To avoid that, it was better to live like this. To live with nothing.
Sasha's fingertips trembled as she unfolded the crumpled paper and scribbled down the phone number. She was definitely going to live with nothing, but that didn't mean she wouldn't have things she wanted to keep.
Oh, why is it such a pain to live.
****
Jared's navy blue sedan pulled up in front of the pediatric ward once again. A small shadow already cast in the black night, she stepped inside as soon as the car came to a stop.
"Miss Sasha."
"General Jared."
The car pulled out in front of the pediatric ward.
"I thought you were never going to call."
"I was going to."
Her face, which had looked so fragile last time, was calm this time. It was clear she had come to a decision.
"May I ask why you changed your mind?"
She looked at the distant hospital building and replied.
"I was getting restless, and doing nothing was making me restless."
"....."
"What you've handed me is a ticking time bomb with a lit wick, and I can't throw it away, and I can't hold it, so I'm going to have to pass it on to someone else, someone who deserves to die."
Jared chuckled, pleased with her answer.
"Do you think what I have is a bomb that goes off?"
"That depends on what you do, Miss Sasha."
"And what will you give me if I do as you say?"
"I'll give you citizenship. You said your brother's reason for going to the front was to gain citizenship. There are only two ways for war refugees to get citizenship: fight in the war and become a hero, or wait until you're a skeleton. I can do it faster than that. As soon as Miss Sasha returns, I will prepare her for sovereignty, not as a refugee, but as a citizen of this land."
****
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