B.J. sighed and pulled the car over to the side of the road. He needed a break. He cut the engine and just sat there behind the wheel, rubbing at his eyes. He was tired and hot and discouraged beyond words.

He looked around at the all-too-familiar brown landscape of South Korea and shook his head. He was having a hard time believing this was real, that he had actually done this. Here he was, back in Korea, searching for a needle in a haystack (his best friend), who was in turn searching for an even smaller needle in an even larger haystack (a woman whose name he didn't even know).

Madness.

His wife had said as much to him as she'd watched him pack his bags and book his flight. "You're going where? To do what? B.J., that's just… I'm sorry, but it's crazy."

He'd tried to explain it to her as best he could. "He's my best friend." "He needs me." "There's no way I can just sit here, waiting for a phone call…"

Despite everything he said to her, she probably still didn't understand. He couldn't blame her.

My best friend needs me… he needs my help… that's all I know.

Now he sat here on the side of the road, wondering how exactly he was helping. He'd been driving for hours. Just back and forth between Inchon and Uijongbu… feeling almost aimless, feeling positively foolish, because it didn't make any sense. There was no guarantee he'd find Hawkeye, of course. He had no way of knowing where the man was. He just assumed Hawk would be looking for the woman in question along the same route they'd traveled that fateful day, when they'd been heading back to camp after being at the Inchon beach.

Of course, B.J. knew that it was likely the woman didn't even live anywhere around here anymore. That'd been a year ago, during the war, and the locals had been so nomadic back then. They might even still be, for all B.J. knew. Probably that woman had moved on long ago. And without knowing her name, there was no way of asking around to see if anyone knew her.

It was insanity, B.J. thought, and not for the first time.

"Hawkeye," he muttered out loud, feeling helpless and very much alone in this foreign land that he never dreamed he'd see again. "What the hell are you doing?"

After a moment, he started the car again, and got back on the road. There was no other option.


"Holy shit!" B.J. slammed on the brakes so hard that he lurched forward violently, his chest connecting painfully with the steering wheel. His tires screeched. He didn't take notice of that.

Up ahead… although he supposed it could be a mirage, he was pretty sure it wasn't… up ahead was Hawkeye Pierce, standing in front of a hut and chatting with a local, gesturing even more animatedly than usual, probably trying to compensate for the language barrier.

B.J. threw open the door of his car and bolted out, leaving it running as he dashed to his friend. "Hawkeye!" he called, and he watched as Hawkeye's head whipped around at the sound of his voice. "Hawkeye!"

Hawkeye squinted at him, shielding his eyes as if blocking out the sun would make sense of what he was seeing, and called back, "Beej? Is that… is it you?"

B.J. saved his breath. He put it into another gear and raced to Hawkeye, only dimly aware that the Korean man was watching with interest and perhaps a little distrust… and then he reached Hawkeye and pulled him into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

Hawkeye was laughing too, probably out of shock, and holding onto him tight, saying nothing… just holding and being held.

Finally, after a very long moment, B.J. took a step back and looked into Hawkeye's face and said what he'd been wondering all along. "What the hell are you doing, Hawk?"

The joy in Hawkeye's expression slowly melted away as realization crept in. He stood there looking at B.J. almost vacantly; B.J. could see him struggling to process this turn of events. "Did you…" he began, then stopped, then tried again. "You came to get me?"

B.J. took hold of Hawkeye's hand and gently led him away from the hut. He nodded at the Korean man as if to say, Sorry for the intrusion, please go about your business, don't mind us.

"Hawk," he said when they'd put distance between themselves and the hut, "let's go to your hotel, or to mine… Let's go talk. We need to have a talk." He looked around, a little bewildered. "Where's your car?"

"I don't know… back a few miles. I've been walking… door to door… or should I say, hut to hut?" He tried a smile but it didn't quite work.

B.J. pulled him by the hand toward his own car. "I'll drive you to your car, and then we'll both drive to your hotel. Are you staying in Seoul?" Hawkeye nodded. B.J. nodded too; he was also calling Seoul home base. "OK, then, that's where we'll go. All right?" He studied Hawkeye closely, because he was looking a little distant, a little disoriented. Most likely still adjusting to the idea that his best friend had flown halfway around the world to fetch him. "Are you with me, Hawk?"

"Uh… yeah," he replied. "With you, Beej."

B.J. opened the passenger door of his car and watched Hawkeye get in, as if he were a child who needed supervision. Once B.J. was back behind the wheel, he looked over to his right, feeling relief wash over him like a wave.

He'd found his needle in the haystack.