London – Annual International Humanitarian Awards
“What a great night,” the host boasts to a sparkling crowd of tuxedos and gowns. White linen and glistening glassware reflect the low lights and candles throughout the large room. “It’s such an honor to be standing up here with these incredible people…”
The host rolls through his accolades right on script, doing a fine job of keeping everyone’s attention during this October night in London.
Proper and distinguished people line two head tables flanking the keynote speaker, applause, and a wonderful atmosphere making tonight feel more than magical.
Vance Torrent sits amongst those at the head tables. Sitting on both sides of him are a doctor and a journalist, a philanthropist, and some celebrity he’s never heard of. He fidgets in the chair, the champagne before him going warm and untouched. Earlier in the night, Vance made the correct assumption that he’s the youngest member at the set of head tables, everyone else being at least a decade older than himself.
‘God,’ he thinks, pretending that he’s listening to the introductory speech. ‘Get me out of here.’
Vance isn’t a doctor or a lawyer. He’s never cured a disease or brought an extinct species back to life. He didn’t join for this.
His phone vibrates, so he breaks social protocol by nonchalantly looking down at his waist, a quick glance at the text.
@Olivia: You’re fidgeting. Stop it. You deserve this.
His reply is quick and unnoticed. @Vance: I’m just glad you’re here.
The speaker continues, introducing the first awardee. Vance isn’t sure what the award is for, but he claps with everyone else regardless. Her acceptance speech begins, but Vance can’t pay attention.
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A record-breaking storm hit overseas eight months ago. Multiple humanitarian teams were deployed at a moment's notice, Vance and his guys being some of the first to arrive. Vance packed his bags in Vermont on Monday night, arriving exhausted in the tropics sixteen hours later on Wednesday afternoon.
For six tiring days, Vance and the world did their best to evacuate helpless people from the worst of it all. It was terrible. By the third day, Vance thought he would die from exhaustion. Four hours of sleep was the required minimum, so that’s all he took.
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The crowd applauds. Another awardee takes the podium.
@Olivia: We don’t have to stay afterwards. I know you want to leave as soon as you can. I’m just so proud of you.
Vance looks over the crowd. Six tables deep and off to the right, Olivia sits with other members of the board from Washington. It seems as though Olivia can feel Vance looking at her, beautiful eyes that are impossible to dismiss eventually finding his. Olivia smiles, causing Vance to smirk, an incredible and beautiful woman who is his biggest fan tonight.
He won’t reply to her text and she knows it, but that’s not the point.
Olivia is gorgeous in a fitted dress tonight. Her smile and cleavage ensure that everyone stops and meets this handsome man who captures her arm and heart this evening. Olivia is the real star tonight. With an addictive personality and tickling laugh, everyone wants to know who she is and if she’s single. Everyone.
Vance should feel lucky to be with Olivia, and he does, but tonight just isn’t what he wanted their relationship to produce.
If anything, Olivia is much more distinguished than Vance. A registered nurse and currently serving as head of the humanitarian coordination department over Vance and his team, she’s poured her life into public service. R.N. Fields should be up here, not Vance.
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Five days into the rescue effort, better weather turned for the worse. Heavy winds rushed in from behind the storm. For a moment, everyone thought the meteorologists would be wrong and the storm would sweep north across the Pacific, but they were wrong.
With the wind came more rain and flooding, landslides, and disappearing roads.
The Washington National Guardsmen hovered their Blackhawk over shallow, rushing waters as Vance and the guys loaded up survivors.
There were already more people in the bird than the pilot called for, but Vance jumped back into the water anyways, yelling that he could fit more people into the packed aircraft. The blades threw water into the rain, Vance swimming hard across the current.
He’s been through this drill before. Back then, however, he ran across the desert instead of swimming in muddy waters, carrying body armor and a rifle instead of children.
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“…So make no mistake about it, folks,” the host comments, a serious tone falling over the audience. “It’s an honor to stand up here and announce the Christopher Banks Award for Distinguished Public Service to one of our very good friends from the United States.”
Vance takes a long breath through the nose, slowly letting it out as he can’t look to the speaker or Olivia who’s currently beaming with the other members.
“…a highly decorated, prior service member of the United States armed forces, he’s someone who saved countless lives while nearly losing his own in the name of humanitarian service. A true leader and true friend to this world…Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Vance Torrent…”
Vance does what he should, approaching the speaker with a smile and firm handshake. There’s an elegant award presented to Vance and he comments on its importance. He sticks to his memorized speech, making the moment more about them than him. He does everything right.
He thanks the crowd and a thunderous applause erupts, Olivia’s voice heard above the noise.
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The turning of helicopter blades is relentless. Vance is literally exhausted, but he forces himself to keep swimming. Every muscle in his body aches when he arrives at the two survivors clinging to life.
“Swim!” he shouts, holding onto them. “Swim!”
They don’t know what Vance said, but they know what to do. The rushing water is intense. They swim and struggle, gasp and kick as the bird gently sweeps closer to them in an attempt to make their work less of a fight.