GETAWAY
Seoul Airport
So far, so good, he thought. The MP's had been alerted to be on the lookout for a beak-nosed Corporal with dark Lebanese hair, not an elderly Korean woman shuffling her way through Seoul's busy streets. Sometimes I amaze even myself, Max thought, as he found an empty storeroom and shed the disguise for the civilian clothes he wore underneath and put on a wig and moustache. "Klinger?" Max tried in his best Greek accent. "No, I no Klinger…I am Maximillian, from Athens!" Klinger grinned. He'd gotten pretty good at voices, what with all the conning he'd done over the 4077th's phone.
Well, this is it. So long Korea, hello Toledo! Max's friends and relatives would help him stay low until the heat died down. For a minute, he thought about what Captain Pierce had said to him when he'd first mentioned his latest plan. "You'll be hounded for the rest of your life. Even if you don't get caught, can you live with yourself? Why do you keep risking everything with these crazy stunts of yours?"
Because I can't take it anymore! Max had wanted to shout back. The wounded, the stench of blood, the whole stupid war…of all people, Max thought Hawkeye would have been the one to understand. After all, he hated the war more than anybody, didn't he?
"I don't want to be here. The doctors, the nurses, certainly the wounded don't want to be here. But we've got to do our best." God Bless Colonel Potter, but the old man was wrong. He'd done his best for more than two years. At first it had been a game; all those times he'd tried to get a Section 8. After a while, he'd tried to convince himself that they were right, he had to tough it out with the rest of them. Max had put away the dresses, the nutty schemes. But then came the day that village had been attacked. Hit by both sides, it had been home to one of the orphanages that Father Mulchahy often visited. Seeing the look on Mulchahy's face when the children were brought in was the straw that had finally broken the camel's back. And now this camel has had enough and is going home, Max had thought.
Of course it had taken quite a bit of extra planning, because this time he was serious. Asking for extra duty so he could pick the right bus or truck to hide in, getting a weekend pass in Seoul after the village incident so he could check out the security at the airport, etc. And, of course, the fake passports and ID. But, it had worked, and here he was, on his way home, away from the nightmare he'd been thrown into nearly three years before.
Max knew the others would feel hurt, angered, even betrayed, by what he was doing. Try to understand, guys…it had to be this way. If I'd had to stay another month I'd have really gone nuts. He wondered what Doctor Freedman would have thought. He'd really helped Max deal with the nightmares after the village incident. And then there was Hawkeye and B.J., always willing to go the extra mile to look the other way so he wouldn't get into any real trouble.
Thanks, guys, for everything. I'll never forget it. I'll try and make it up to you, somehow.
The final boarding calls were coming over the airport's PA as "Maximillian" strolled out of the storeroom. He smiled blandly at the security guards as they checked his passport and ID and let him out to the waiting plane.
For better or worse, Max Klinger was going home.
THE END.