Traiskirchen Refugee Camp, Austria
Alexis awoke with a start, bolting upright in her cot as she tried to figure out what woke her. Her boob vibrated. She reached in and grabbed the phone, it a trick she had read somewhere—where she couldn’t remember—to keep your phone safe from being stolen in shared accommodations, and to wake you if you were expecting an important call.
It definitely worked.
She eagerly swiped the display, the caller ID indicating it was her father.
“Hi Dad, just a second.” She slipped on a robe and some flip-flops then quickly exited the sleeping quarters. “Okay, I can talk. Did you find out anything?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
She smiled. “Sorry. How are you?” she asked with an exaggerated cheerfulness.
Her father laughed, it a sound she missed terribly since being stuck here. The living conditions were miserable, though tolerable compared to what the refugees were living with, but sacrificing the comforts of home was tough, especially for someone who had grown up quite well off. They weren’t rich, though they weren’t hurting by any means, her father’s various jobs paying quite well over the years, as had her mother’s.
“I’m okay, and you?”
She surveyed the camp, the morning sun just making its presence known on the horizon. “Almost ready to tackle a new day.”
“Sorry for calling you so early, but I’m in meetings all day tomorrow so I figured I’d pass this on right away.”
She glanced at her phone. “Isn’t it almost midnight there?”
“You know me, I never go to bed early.”
“Uh huh. What did you find?”
“You didn’t hear this from me, but yes, there was an airstrike at the location you provided. It wasn’t us, it was the Russians, which is the only reason I’m telling you this because we only classify our own missions.”
Alexis sighed, relieved. “So she’s telling the truth.”
“Don’t be so hasty. Never take what a desperate person says at face value. She could be telling the truth, but she could also be lying. But I’ll tell you this, if there’s any chance she is telling the truth, we need to find these men. They’re hardcore. We’re going to need specifics on where and when she saw them and what they look like. You up for the job?”
A flush of pride swept through her, goosebumps raising every hair on her body as she realized her father was asking for her help. It was as if with that one, simple question, he had shown her he was proud of her, that he had confidence in her.
That he finally thought of her as an adult.
“Absolutely.”