Chapter 9: Changes

"I was sent to become a member of a growing sleeper cell." Joyce looked less than enthusiastic, and hung her head as soon as the words left her mouth. "I just wanted to get out of the Union, get away from all the trouble over there, and try to live the rest of my life in peace, but the only way to secure a passport and get out of the country without being labeled a deserter, is to have the government give it to you."

"The government… but why?"

"If I had tried to leave without their backing, my grandparents would have been slaughtered for harbouring a traitor." her voice was beginning to crack, like she was fighting back tears. "All I had to do was wait until they were over here with me, then I could turn myself over to your government and try to get a deal, hand over whatever information I had learned to try and lessen my sentence… But my handlers are being careful, they're-" she cut off when her phone began to ring.

Alfred gave her look, still trying to wrap his head around what had just been told, but stood when she did and followed her to the phone. Her hand shook as she picked it up, and Alfred leaned in close to listen.

{Hello sestra. Ты один?}

"Da." she cut her eyes at Alfred. "I wasn't expecting a call so soon."

{I just thought you should know only your grandmother will be arriving in New York this Friday. Your grandfather died of a heart attack about an hour ago.}

Joyce bit her lip. "A heart attack? Poor babushka must be devastated…"

{She surely is. And you should act just the same when you see her.}

"Of course."

{And one more thing sestra. That man you mentioned as being a help to you? Do whatever you must to keep him nearby. A dear friend of mine may just pay him a visit if he wanders off too far.}

Alfred felt his blood run cold when Joyce only replied with a simple 'da'. After exchanging goodbyes she hung up her phone, and proceeded to drop to her knees with tears running down her face.

"Dedushka!" she choked on a sob, lifting her hands to cover her face. Not knowing what else to do, and no matter how unsettled he was, Alfred kneeled beside her, and brought her into a hug. He stroked her hair as her arms wrapped around him, burying her face in his shoulder. His shirt grew damp from her tears, and her body shook against him with every choked sob, but he didn't let her go until she pulled away, pulling a handkerchief out of her shirt to damb her eyes, sniffling.

Her eyes were red and puffy and her nose was running, but Alfred hardly noticed as his hand gently cupped her cheek. "Joyce… you really didn't want to be a part of this… did you?"

"No!" she choked on the word. "I just wanted to live somewhere safe, somewhere I didn't have to worry about looking over my shoulder everytime I leave the house but oh! This friend must be the one who tried to kill Vladimir! If he was able to get so close to such a well trained soldier I wouldn't have a chance to defend myself! And now babushka is preparing to come over here?! Her kind heart would give out at the thought of me getting into this mess! And now I've brought you into it as well!"

Alfred felt his heart split when she started to cry again. "I brought myself into this mess… Joyce, that senator that had you arrested? He's the reason I was at the airport that day, but he told me you were somebody very important, somebody I should do whatever I could to help along. Then you got arrested, and I found out the real reason he told me to look after you. He had been suspicious of you since your name appeared on his radar. And truth be told… I kinda was too…" he saw her look up, and gently wiped her tears away. "But Joyce, you were so nice and gentle… I didn't want to believe it. So I had him turn you over into my care. That's how I got you out of jail that day…"

"Is… Is that true? Then the entire time you were being so kind to me was-"

"My own choice. He might have told me to help you along, but he never said what I should do to help. Everything I did for you was my own choice and to be honest… I didn't mind doing it at all." he gave her a gentle smile. "But now that your little friend in Russia has a spot for my head, I think it's time I changed address, and you changed nationalities."

"What?" she looked confused now, but let him help her to her feet. He put his hand on her waist and led her back to the kitchen, pausing momentarily at the hall closet to get his briefcase. Once she was seated in a chair, he opened the case and pulled out a stack of papers.

"This are the immigration papers for a political refugee. Fill them out and I'll turn them in with my personal seal of approval. Once your grandma is here, I'll do the same for her." he smiled and handed her a pen. "You'll be an American citizen, and no longer under the thumb of the Soviets."

"But if they find out they may keep babushka from reaching the US."

"I won't turn them in until she's here." his smile softened, and he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I promise I'll make sure she gets here safely, if I have to fly over there and get her myself!"

Joyce nodded slowly, and began to fill out the papers. "You're taking this awfully well considering I just told you I was here as a Soviet spy."

"I kinda figured you were hiding something like that since I first met you." he gave a sheepish grin, which then fell into a look of confused curiosity. "By the way, that story you told me when we had dinner… was it true?"

"It was, except the part about my father, apparently…" she frowned. "And I did mean it when I told you that you remind me of Dimitri."

"I'm sure that's a compliment."

"It is."