Vera took the cigarette and held it between her fingers. She remained quiet for a few moments, still angry and uncertain. Life as she knew it simply ceased in the blink of an eye. Was this really happening? Was this man on the level? Maybe. Maybe not.  But she knew he was right, in that they certainly would have killed her- eventually.What would she do now that she was a fugitive? There was a little money set aside, but it wouldn't last long.  How would she survive? Or would she? For the moment, she would play it safe.<br/><br/>Her voice still filled with contempt, she finally broke the silence. "You wear the uniform of a coward. It is not very becoming." She lit the cigarette and took a quick draw. "Tell me of this revolution, comrade... comrade.... what was your name?"  She wanted to hear him say his name again, and compare it to that voice from long ago. Was this really the man who saved her life 12 years ago?