The Bomber

By: AliasCWN

Chapter 3

He was talking to Moffitt, an easy conversation that evolved around the two young privates in the unit. The privates were getting supplies for the jeeps, getting them ready to go out again. Moffitt was telling him about a conversation he had been having with his driver. Somehow, he wasn't sure how, but Troy knew that the other sergeant meant Tully.

Even in his dream he understood that Tully and Moffitt shared a special bond. During his talk with Tully the lanky private had frequently turned to look toward the other sergeant. Hitch had too, though not as often. Yes, he knew the other sergeant was talking about Tully. A sense of satisfaction settled over him at the realization that he was starting to know his men again. He still didn't remember them but he was getting a sense of who and what they were, and for now, that was enough.

Even in his dream there was a sense of urgency, but somehow it shifted; he no longer fought to regain his memories of his men or his life, now he fought to remember the explosion. The moments preceding it to be more exact. Hitchcock's words echoed in his head. Doc thinks you saw the bomber. Had he? Would he be able to identify him if his memory returned? He pushed against the wall that separated him from his memories, trying to force his way past it. The wall stood solid, dark, cold and unyielding.

He tossed in his sleep, the dream playing over and over in his head. It always started the same, with him talking to the other sergeant. Then it would progress until he could see the motor pool ahead. He knew it was the motor pool, trucks and jeeps were parked around the area waiting to be serviced. The heavy smell of motor oil and gasoline filled the air. In his sleep he turned his head, trying to get a breath of fresh air, but it didn't work. The heavy smells assaulted his senses, making his head ache with the need for fresh air.

One smell just kept getting stronger until it was the only thing he could smell. He tossed restlessly, trying identify it. It clung to his nostrils and blocked out all thoughts of anything else. He knew that smell, it was more familiar to him than his own name. The dreaming Troy had to laugh at that thought, but there was something about that smell that rang alarm bells in his head. It wasn't funny. Even the dreaming Troy didn't laugh at the smell. A sense of dread invaded his dream, causing him to toss and turn uneasily. A hand settled on his shoulder and he awoke with a start, the sweat beading on his brow.

"Easy Sarge, you're just dreaming. Take it easy." Hitchcock soothed. "We got you Sarge, you're safe. Just take it easy." Hitch was bending over him trying to calm him down, a look of concern on his face.

He looked up into the youthful face and tried to convey his sense of urgency. At first his tongue refused to cooperate but he finally pried it loose from the roof of his mouth. Reaching for the arm attached to the hand that patted his shoulder, he pulled on the arm to get his attention. "That smell. Do you smell it?" He pulled harder, trying to pull himself up. The sense of urgency hadn't dissipated when he woke up, it had only gotten stronger. Looking around, it surprised him that no one else seemed to be alarmed. True, most of them were sleeping, but he had been asleep too until Hitch woke him. He looked into the face of the blond with wide eyes. "Can you smell it?"

"What smell Sarge? What are you talking about? Take it easy." The blond gently pulled his arm free and pressed on Troy's shoulders to get him to lie back down. He looked around as if searching for a nurse.

"That smell!" Troy insisted. "Don't you smell anything?"

The blond looked down at him for a minute before lifting his head to take a good whiff. "Gasoline. One of the vehicles around here must have a gas leak." The private took another whiff to make sure he didn't smell anything else.

"No! It's getting stronger! Something's wrong!" Troy tried to sit up again. He pushed against the hands that held him in place. "It's too strong for a small leak. Besides, I didn't hear any trucks pass here. Something is wrong I tell you!"

The private's concern for his sergeant was replaced with concern for the situation. Looking around, he urged Troy to stay still. "You stay quiet Sarge; I'll go check it out." He was gone before Troy could encourage him to take back-up.

Troy leaned against the pillows at his back and continued to listen to the sounds around him. He could hear people passing outside on the street. An occasional vehicle would pass but the smell didn't weaken as the vehicles got further away. There was something wrong, he knew it!

A shout from outside had the hospital staff rushing to the door. Someone outside was yelling at everyone to get back. He could hear the panic as people cleared the streets. More shouts joined the first and the hospital staff returned, talking urgently among themselves. He watched as they gathered near the door to wait for someone to tell them what to do. They tried to reassure the patients who were starting to get restless but Troy couldn't help but notice their tense posture as they stood in the doorway. Troy wondered when Hitchcock was coming back. The longer it took the more convinced he was that something was wrong.

"Hey doc. What's going on?" A patient on the other side of the room called.

"Nothing to worry about soldier." The medic answered. "The MP's have everything under control. Go back to sleep."

"How can anyone sleep with all of that racket out there?" The curious patient called back. "Why doesn't someone go out there and find out what is going on?"

"Go to sleep or I'll give you something to help you sleep." A doctor growled.

"Okay, okay." The patient responded. "I was just asking. I thought hospitals were supposed to be quiet, restful places. This one is anything but."

"It will be if you go to sleep." A nurse answered as she tucked a blanket around the wounded soldier. "Do you need something to help you get to sleep?"

"No." The patient grumbled. "A body can't get a straight answer around here." The wounded man rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He may not have gone to sleep but he didn't ask any more questions.

Knowing that he wouldn't get any different response Troy feigned sleep until the hospital staff went back to their duties. Opening his eyes, he waited impatiently for the blond private to return. He fell asleep still waiting.

"Hey Sarge."

When he opened his eyes again Tully was back and the blond still had not returned. Not unless he had returned while he was asleep and hadn't woke him. Troy searched the room for the blond but he wasn't there.

"Where's Hitch?"

"Getting some rest." Tully answered. "The MP's kept him up pretty late last night going over his testimony."

"His testimony? About what? What did he do?"

"Nothing." Tully answered quietly as he looked to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. The patient next to Troy had been released so his bed was empty. Any other neighbors were either asleep or too far away to overhear the low voices. "That gasoline you smelled last night…"

Troy nodded carefully, the dread returning at Tully's mention of the smell.

"Someone was planning to set this place on fire. Hitch went out back to check on the smell and chased him away. He didn't have time to finish setting the timer on the bomb he made. It was real lose though. If you hadn't smelled that gasoline and alerted Hitch…" He didn't finish the sentence but Troy could fill in the blanks for himself.

"Our mad bomber again?"

"Not so mad." Tully snorted. "Word got out that you may have seen the bomber. Most everybody knows that we're just waiting for your memory to come back so you can tell us who it is. It was supposed to stay a secret but somebody talked. It's all over the base."

"He was after me?"

"Looks that way Sarge." Tully nodded. "He was setting his bomb right outside that wall." Tully pointed to the spot on the wall nearest Troy's bed. "He must have known where your bed was located."

Troy nodded thoughtfully. "Kill me before I get my memory back."

Tully didn't need to reply.

"Why did the MP's hold Hitchcock?"

"They didn't hold him; they were just asking him questions. He's the one who found the bomb. He chased the bomber off. They wanted to know why he was back there in the first place."

"I insisted that something was wrong. He went to check it out to keep me happy." Troy paused. "He saw the bomber too. He'll be a target now too."

"He didn't get a good look. All he saw was his back as he ran away." Tully shook his head. "They've put both of you in protective custody. You'll have MP's watching you until the bomber is caught. They have guards stationed outside of our room and all around the hospital."

"Not the motor pool?"

"No, why?"

"Doesn't he work at the motor pool?"

"Not anymore." Tully shook his head. "He's a target now too so they want him to stay away from populated areas. I'll be taking his meals to him until further notice."

"I got him into this."

"You alerted him to the bomb and saved a lot of lives." Tully replied. "That bomb was meant for you but it would have killed a lot of other guys too. This bomber doesn't care about anything or anyone. It takes a special kind of creep to bomb a hospital."

"I have to remember or we have to find a way to draw that bomber out."

"The MP's are working on it Sarge. What you need to do is rest."

"How can I rest? There's a bomber running around somewhere on the base and I may know who he is. I have to remember!"

The doctor said your memory would come back sooner if you're rested. He said trying to force it could make it take longer. You can't force it Sarge."

"I have to! Lives are at stake!" Troy reached up to rub his aching head.

"All you're going to do is give yourself a headache. Rest Sarge, we got this."

Troy growled in frustration. "You stay with Hitch as much as you can. Keep him safe. I'll be all right here. They have a lot of MP's guarding the hospital."

"Yeah there are." Tully agreed. "But they aren't as particular about your safety as I am. Hitch isn't hurt; he can take care of himself."

Troy sighed. "I got him into this. I'd consider it a personal favor to me if you made sure he got out of it alive."

Tully chewed on his matchstick and regarded Troy for a moment. He glanced over at Moffitt before looking back at Troy. "This is important to you?"

"Yeah, it is. I feel responsible for him being in danger. I want to do everything I can to make sure it doesn't cost him his life. I can't protect him, but you can. Will you do it?"

"Hitch can take care of himself." Tully repeated. "But if it will make you feel better, I'll stay with him."

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Tully answered as he rose to leave.

Anytime. That one word echoed in Troy's mind. He'd known that Tully was going to say that even before he'd thanked him. He knew it was familiar, he'd heard it before, lots of times unless he missed his guess. He wanted to ask Tully about it but the lanky private had stopped to check on Moffitt and then left the room. Going to guard Hitchcock, at least that was where Troy hoped he'd gone.

They needed a plan to draw the bomber out where they could catch him, or at least identify him. He had the answer, he could feel it in his heart, he just couldn't remember.

Twisting, he swung his legs off the bed. Sitting up made him dizzy but he had to do it. He closed his eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning. He grabbed hold of the pole that held his IV and used it for support. Letting the tubes drop so that the liquid would still flow into his arm, he hobbled around the bed.