Author: Sam

Series: The War Within

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/samwise_baggins/index.html

Things had settled for the night, for the most part. People were tucked up in their sleeping bags, or in each other’s sleeping bags. The sounds of snores and night insects mingled on the warm night air under a star-filled sky. Post Op was also quiet, the patients having settled in for a much-needed rest. Only the assigned security personnel were on their rounds, one at either end of the camp and a third in front of the VIP tent.

A single flashlight broke the monotony. All three guards noted it, but as the light had originated at the Swamp, no one thought anything much of it. After all, Trapper and Hawkeye were well known for their midnight excursions. The main point of interest was which tent the man would try to sneak into… and which nurse he would have with him.

When the light stopped in front of the tent housing Radar and all of the files it went out, much to the surprise of all three men on duty.

After switching off his light, Colonel Flagg, dressed all in black complete with stocking watch cap and face paint, eased open the door to the Administration Tent. He knew the young Corporal slept in there, so was extra careful not to make any sudden noises, deftly walking around the sleeping stray dog adopted in general by the entire camp. Slipping almost silently, except for a small sneeze by the dog as the Colonel passed, causing him to freeze in a rather uncomfortable foot-raised-arm-extended position for all of a minute, Flagg made it into the sleeping area of Radar O’Reilly, Company Clerk.

Briefly shining his flashlight over the Corporal, he noted with disgust the teddy bear clutched firmly in the young man’s arms, the youth’s mouth open slightly as he lightly snored. Satisfied, Flagg transferred his light to the filing cabinets then shot it quickly back over the sleeping clerk. Radar hadn’t moved, though he snorted slightly as if in reaction. Flagg switched off his light. He froze at a particularly loud snort from Radar, but continued on his way, satisfied that the young man was happily dreaming of Mom’s apple pie and baseball.

Feeling with his hands, finding it much harder to tell what things were through the gloves he was sporting, Flagg none-the-less managed to locate the button that triggered the filing cabinet and flick it awkwardly. The drawer squealed in protest as it opened, and Flagg winced, whirling around and shining his light once more on the Corporal in the bunk.

For his part, Radar snored on, shifting a little then feeling around unconsciously as his teddy bear slid out of reach. He seemed on the verge of waking up so Sam Flagg hurried over and returned the bear to its proper spot, right next to Radar’s heart. The Corporal wrapped his arms possessively around his bear, smiled in his sleep, and sighed softly. Flagg rolled his eyes then hurried back to start looking through the files, pulling out a miniature camera in readiness to photograph the results.

With a frown, Flagg noted that there was no personnel file on Emil Standish, Doctor. He quickly pulled open the other drawers, checking through those, unaware that they made no noise as he moved them, unlike that first drawer. The rest of the cabinet had been well oiled. The only things he found in all of the other drawers were requisition files and blank personnel forms. He also found a week-old brownie from the mess tents wedged behind the files of the third drawer down, apparently being used to keep the files upright in place of a missing bit of metal.

Colonel Flagg was disgusted and slid the last drawer shut. Flashing the light over Radar once more, noting the still sleeping innocence of the young man, he headed into the office next door, intent on checking Colonel Blake’s desk. He was gone a long time before re-emerging in disgust.

Almost carelessly, the Colonel slipped out of the door to the Administration Tent. He didn’t notice Radar open his eyes and frown, sitting up in his bunk, perfectly awake… as he had been for the entire incident. Also not seeing the obstacle in his distress, Flagg tripped over the camp mutt, falling rather noisily into the local trashcan and creating a ruckus louder then gunfire in the sleeping camp. Lights went on, people scurried out of bed, voices rose in protest and query, and Flagg lay in the garbage trying to push the dog off his now very dirty, paint-smeared face.

A flashlight in his face stopped the Intelligence Officer in his futile struggles.

He glanced up, noting untied boots, followed by bare legs, then the beginnings of a bright yellow dressing robe, all the way up until Flagg’s eyes fell on the amused face of Trapper John. The doctor was quickly joined by Hawkeye, Henry, and, coming from inside the Administration Tent, Radar. Others were running over, the three members of the night watch hurrying to correct their assumptions that the sneak was one of their own, well-loved surgeons out for a midnight tryst.

“What in Blue Blazes are you doing out here?” Blake couldn’t help the angry tones, despite his normal wariness of the other Colonel. He’d just been interrupted in a very important meeting, and he knew Nurse Allen was slipping away right then. His date was ruined, and he was upset.

Pushing to his feet, Flagg used his legendary quick wits to talk himself out of the situation, mainly by going on the offensive. “What is that dog doing here? Are you authorized a dog in this unit, Colonel?”

Blake blinked in temporary confusion. He looked down at the dog, then back at Colonel Flagg, before finally answering, in a rather annoyed tone, “He’s a local stray we let hang around.”

“Indigenous Personnel, huh?” Flagg whipped out his ever-present notebook, just as Houlihan and Burns came to a halt nearby. He flipped open the notebook, ignoring the greasy smudges over the carefully coded notes, and started scribbling. “You are aware that as an indigenous personage that dog is a Communist? You are willfully letting a Communist pass through your camp, among your staff, and gain free, unchecked access to all tents… including the Administration Tent?” He was busy writing and thus missed the incredulous look that crossed Henry Blake’s face.

Hawkeye barked out a deep laugh, Frank’s quick, “By golly, that’s right! He is a Communist dog!” merely causing the guffaws to become much louder.

Henry shot a glare at his second-in-command.

Encouraged by Burns’ support, Flagg nodded and scribbled some more, trying to get the stupid pencil to write through the grease smudges. “Are you aware that an unauthorized Communist loose on the base is against regulations? That dog was sent here to spy on me! I’ll have to take him in for questioning.”

“You speak dog, Colonel?” Trapper couldn’t resist the innocent sounding question, but wound up losing his composure at Flagg’s shrewd, “We have our ways, Mister!”

Finally, Blake threw his hands in the air. “Colonel, leave the dog alone.”

He was interrupted by Hawkeye, who amusedly added, “Yeah, Frank’s just a dumb animal, Colonel.”

Burns sputtered in protest.

Without missing a beat, Henry spoke over the other doctors, “and get back to bed, everyone. Colonel, I want to see you in my office.” The pair walked past Radar and into the building, the young Corporal turning to follow them inside.

Hawkeye saw the way Burns was trying to sidle into the office, as well. Suddenly worried that Blake was angry enough to start talking about Emil, the brunet lightly hit his blond companion’s arm, drawing Trapper’s attention from a nearby nurse. “I’m going to help Henry with this.” Trapper shot him a surprised look, but Hawkeye ignored him, slipping into the building behind the other officers.

Inside the room, the group moved quickly into Blake’s office, Burns glaring at Hawkeye as the other surgeon caught up to them. Radar busied himself at the radio, but his movements were almost absent-minded; he was intent on listening to the conversation in the next room. Once inside, Burns set himself firmly on the side of Flagg, while Hawkeye deceptively lounged near Blake. The two Colonels faced each other across Henry’s desk, hostility and anger crackling through the air.

The silence was broken by the Base Commander.

“Stop sneaking around at night.” It was short and very definite; Henry wasn’t mincing any words. “You may gather all the evidence you want during the day, but you will stop doing it at night. I can’t have my staff continually disturbed; they need rest, and by golly, so do I!” The words may have been mild, but the tone definitely wasn’t. Colonel Flagg had pushed the easy-going doctor too far.

Flagg decided on a different tack than the one he had been about to take. Apparently, getting accusatory about the dog had been a slip up. He wouldn’t make that mistake again… leave the dog out of it. Also, arguing about his night maneuvers would be a bad idea, as well. Since he hadn’t found anything, he could afford to let it go… for now. Instead, he would get straight to the point.

“Let me get straight to the point, then, Colonel.” Flagg fell silent, watching the other man intently as the tension built. He waited... and waited... and waited some more, not making a sound as he stared the Colonel in the eyes.

Blake slammed his hands on the desk, making everyone except Flagg jump and breaking the silent tension. “Well? Get to it, then!”

“Riiight.” Flagg drew the word out, as if he were in a western film. With a sudden, decisive nod, he went on. “I want to know about Standish.”

“Standish?” Blake was confused, the seeming change of subject throwing him off stride and dissipating the unusual anger in him.

Hawkeye frowned, opening his mouth but getting interrupted by Flagg.

“That’s right. Standish. We have reason to believe he’s a Communist spy masquerading as a doctor here. You’ve got him; we want him.” Flagg leaned forward, his movements studied, slow, measured. If he’d been a model, he would have been posing; as it was, his movements were calculated to put Colonel Blake at ease.

They did no such thing. Instead, the Colonel sputtered indignantly as Hawkeye jumped in with, “Aw, come on now, Colonel! You see spies in your Rice Krispies!”

Flagg turned his head to study the Captain and drawled out, “I don’t eat Rice Krispies, Captain. They talk behind my back.”

His face was totally devoid of any amusement. Hawkeye’s mouth dropped open, and he had to fight to close it. The man was so serious it wasn’t amusing in the least. The doctor again opened his mouth for another comment and was interrupted once more.

“Sirs!” Radar pushed open the door, the receiver of the portable phone to his ear as he frantically called out, “Casualties, sir! There’s heavy fighting, surprise ambush. The choppers…” the compound was suddenly inundated with the roar of helicopter motors, effectively supporting Radar's claims of casualties.

Blake paled but nodded. “Everyone scrub up. We’ve got wounded.” He shot Flagg a look, but walked out without comment, ignoring the other man in favor of the profession he loved.

“But, it’s my bed time, Colonel,” Burns whined as he followed the Colonel, especially annoyed that he was being ignored.

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, Frank. You’re always asleep on the job anyway.”

“Am not!” Burns glared behind him at Hawkeye.

With a malicious grin, Captain Pierce jogged off to warn Trapper that they needed him. The loud speaker announced the incoming wounded, and the other surgeon met Hawkeye directly outside of the Swamp, grumbling in surprise at the lack of sleep. Joining into the routine of complaining about conditions in the war, Hawkeye accompanied his friend into the prep area, nurses hurrying in as well. Trapper grumbled that Burns better not be the one on Triage.

“No, I’m going. You two scrub up.” Blake turned right back around and headed outside to prevent Frank from taking over that critical job.