When they had finally reached the area that Boggs had selected for their quarantine, Moffitt, MJ, Tully, and Hitch had worked to set up the camp as best as they could.
Boggs had only managed to send two large tents and another small one. It was quickly decided that one would be used to house MJ and her research and then that the other large tent to be used as an infirmary for those infected. The smallest would be used to house those not ill. It was not lost on Moffitt that the smallest tent was only big enough for two, while the larger tent would comfortably hold them all.
Moffitt didn't know whether he should blame that on the deficiencies in supply chain or a lack of optimism on the part of Boggs. Moffitt had to admit that he was feeling less than optimistic himself. If the others had noticed or even felt the same way, they did not let it affect their duties. With the tents set up, MJ began to go through her supplies to order her makeshift lab. Digging through the last crate, MJ brought out a collection of surgical masks and gloves.
Moffitt raised an eyebrow at her.
''Put them on. We may not be infected. And, if you don't breath the virus when in contact with the infected or get it on your skin when you touch them, you'll most likely be all right,'' MJ told him.
''Most likely? Well, I suppose that's something.'' Moffitt was not sure that it was enough.
MJ sighed. ''That's the best I can do, Jack. I don't know for sure. ''
''Invokes a certain amount of confidence, that statement does.'' Moffitt passed masks and gloves to Hitch and Tully. They looked at them with distaste. ''Put them on,'' Moffitt ordered. To ensure that he was serving as a good role model, he did the same.
Tully and Hitch obeyed. Their eyes, peering over their masks, made it clear to Moffitt that they were not happy about it.
MJ turned to reach into the box again. This time, she brought out a jug of antiseptic wash and also some additional clothing. ''The most contagious thing about them right now is their clothing and that car because of the high concentration of spores that were in that specimen bottle. They're going to need to bathe in this.'' She held up the jug. ''Diluted in about 10 gallons of water.''
Moffitt frowned. ''I know that they did bring water, but I'm not sure that we have enough for all of that.''
''Doesn't matter. They can bring us more water if we need it. This has to be done.''
Hitch took the jug. He looked at Tully. ''Let's go find something to use as a tub and then let's mix up a batch. Rubba dub dub, four men in a tub.''
''If you could set up it up more than half mile away from here, that would be excellent.'' MJ stuck her head in the crate again.
Moffitt nodded. Dietrich and Troy and their party had stopped about a mile outside of the camp and were waiting for instructions. He looked at Tully and Hitch. ''Line one of those big crates with one of the jeep covers, they're mostly waterproof. That will likely do to hold the water in.''
''Yep.'' Tully nodded and he and Hitch were on their way.
''After they decontaminate themselves,'' MJ said, ''then they need to burn the clothing that they have on and then the Kubelwagon.''
Moffitt removed his mask and gloves. ''The boys will leave one of the jeeps between here and there so that they don't have to walk in. I'll radio out and tell Troy where to find it. I'll also let them know about the bath that they'll need to take, as well. I'm sure that they'll be thrilled with it all.'' He picked up the spare clothing as an afterthought and bundled it up, stuffing it into a duffle bag. ''And we'll leave the clothes as well, with the tub. Don't want them driving about starkers, do we now? Hope we've gotten everyone's size right.''
''I am sure that regardless of the size, they'll just be glad to have some clothing,'' said MJ evenly, ''and if not, they'll all get over it. It will all be fine.''
''Let's hope so. That's the goal, right?''
Work done and with nothing else to occupy his mind, Moffitt sat with his head in his hands thinking about how truly awful the situation was.
MJ came over to him carrying a stainless steel tray and a small basin. She sat it down with a clank beside of him. Moffitt looked up at her.
''That gash, in your forehead, I need to clean it up and then cover it.''
He had noticed that he had a headache but hadn't thought much about it. After all, he had gotten kicked in the face by LeFeurve and then there was everything else, so it was to be expected. Moffitt put his fingers to his forehead. There was indeed a break in the skin there.
''Don't you have other more pressing things to worry about than a scratch?'' Moffitt asked her. He looked at his fingers. The wound wasn't even bleeding. He imagined he'd gotten enough sweat, dirt, and sand in it to clot it nicely. It hardly seemed serious enough to require any medical attention.
''Any kind of break in the skin can make you more susceptible to the virus."
''Isn't it a bit late to worry about that?''
''Well, perhaps, but there is a chance that you haven't been infected yet. But if you want to be around Troy and the others when they come back, we probably should take care of it. What if you were to touch something that was infected and then touched your head? '' MJ tilted Moffitt's chin up and began to swab the wound with what Moffitt presumed was some sort of antiseptic.
It stung. Moffitt made a face and a small sound of discomfort. ''It hurts more now than it did before.''
''Things that are good for you are rarely pleasant, Jack. Our parents were right.'' Wound cleaned, MJ studied it. ''You could probably do with a few stitches, actually, now that I look at it.''
''Really, now! Can't you just slap a plaster on it and be done with it?''
''No. I'm a doctor. Trust me.''
That particular phrase made Moffitt frown. ''Troy mentioned that LeFeurve had told him something about you. You know him, don't you? Or at the very least he recognized you?''
MJ concentrated on threading a length of cat gut through a needle. ''He recognized me, yes.'' She tilted Moffitt's head up again. ''Try to stay still. That means no talking."
Moffitt complied.
''And no expressive eyebrows.'' MJ tapped him under the chin.
Even with his rather impressive history of needing medical attention of one form or another, the feeling of needle and thread through his skin still always unnerved Moffitt. Despite MJ's original diagnosis, she put more than what felt like just a few stitches into the wound. She swabbed additional antiseptic on the wound before covering it with gauze pad which she finally covered with a plaster.
''All done, Jack,'' she told him, touching him on the cheek. ''Remember to keep it covered.''
Moffitt let out a breath that he hadn't realized that he had been holding. ''So, back to the original topic. LeFeurve knows you. What do you think that he told Troy about you?''
''Is it that important? What an idiot who may have gotten us all killed said?'' She turned her back, tidying her supplies.
''I suppose that it depends on what he had to say,'' Moffitt said slowly to MJ's back. ''And considering that we all may be stuck alone out here for quite some time, I think that it may be a good idea if you went ahead and told me. No nasty surprises that way. After all, he's already told Troy and Dietrich.''
''And I'm sure that Troy will tell you.'' MJ turned. ''Bottom line is Jack, that it really doesn't matter, does it? We've all got one hope here and it's me. Does anything that LeFeurve has to say change that?''
Moffitt thought about that. He did not suppose that it did. But, it didn't stop him from wanting to know exactly what MJ did not want him to know. The fact that she was so unwilling to share didn't help to lay his curiosity to rest.
''Wouldn't you like to tell at least one person your side of the story first?'' Moffitt raised an eyebrow at her and he felt his stitches pull. He winced.
''I told you not to do that.'' MJ clucked her tongue at him as she smoothed the plaster back down. ''But something tells me that the only person that you probably really listen to is Sam Troy.''
Moffitt shrugged. ''Not even him, sometimes. Drives Troy around the bend.''
''I'm sure. I've already been witness to what happens when someone questions his plans. Doesn't seem to like it, does he?''
''No, not at all. He also doesn't like it when something is represented to him wasn't true. That's where we're going here, isn't it?'' Moffitt stood up and took MJ's arms. ''LeFeurve knows something about you that makes you not as quite as perfect as you seem.''
''Really? You think that I'm perfect?'' MJ's eyes narrowed and she smirked as she put her hands on his shoulders. "What a lovely thing to say, Jack.''
''Too good to be true, perhaps.'' Moffitt thought again of Tully's assessment of MJ. ''What are you hiding, Dr. Knight?''
''What are you hiding, Sergeant Moffitt? After all, everyone is hiding something,'' MJ countered, her arms now looped around Moffitt's neck.
''I'm not hiding much. I find that it's hardly worth the effort.''
MJ pressed closer to Moffitt. "Perhaps you'd like me to be the judge of that, Jack? I think that maybe it's you that isn't being truthful now."
When he got her double meaning, Moffitt felt the heat start in his cheeks and move to his hairline. He was not at the moment hiding very well that he didn't have nearly enough opportunity to spend time in the close proximity of an attractive woman.
''I suppose it all depends on what you're hiding and why you're hiding it, right?'' MJ's hands slid up the back of his neck.
''Touché. Which is likely why you should tell me what your secret is.'' Moffitt took in a deep breath as her fingers threaded themselves into his hair. He looked up at the tent's ceiling. ''I certainly hope that you don't think that you're distracting me from my train of thought, Dr. Knight.''
A wicked look crossed her face. ''Oh, I think that I probably am. But, something does tell me that no matter what I do, what we do, you're not going to let this go, are you?''
''No. And even if I was willing to, trust me, Troy won't let it go. He's not easily distracted by any stretch of the imagination.''
''Yes, I've found that out. And it wasn't from lack of trying,'' Moffitt thought he heard MJ mutter.
He blinked at her, still not quite certain what she had said. "Pardon?''
Suddenly, MJ pulled away from Moffitt. Moffitt's body mourned the loss but his brain told him that it was for the best. He waited.
''I met LeFeurve a year ago. I took something from him. Something that he'd worked very hard on. He wasn't very pleased about it. I imagine that's what he told Troy.'' MJ sat down on the stool and looked up at Moffitt. "But he had even bigger plans for this virus, Jack. Huge, far reaching plans, and I, we, wrecked them. I imagine that he's angry enough to say anything right now.''
''And so we took LeFeurve's work. And if your earlier story still holds true, then he was working with the virus to make it a deadly weapon. Which, I'm sure that he promised to the German war effort.''
''Yes, he did a lot of work on it to make it more deadly. It would be a very effective weapon. It's hardy, highly contagious. It has an excellent survival rate without a host and has high radius of penetration. And then, under the right conditions, the pure form of the spores like the one specimen that we took today can travel a distance to infect a victim. Which makes it deadlier yet if released in any kind of populated area.''
The idea of releasing a virus to kill one's enemy was repugnant to Moffitt. Weren't guns and bombs damaging enough, he wondered, without having to resort to biology? ''LeFeurve is working for the Nazis, then?'' After the man had run straight for them, hadn't he, with the samples that MJ had collected. Moffitt didn't need much more convincing than that of on which side the good doctor's loyalties fell.
MJ shook her head. "Actually, no, he's not.''
Moffitt looked at her sharply, positive that he'd heard her wrong. "What?''
'He's working for the Free French.'' MJ smiled faintly. ''LeFeurve hates Nazis. I'm sure that his hatred of Germans is going to make things interesting with him and Dietrich and Bader in the same small space. We'll probably want to watch that.''
Holding up a hand, Moffitt stopped the conversation. ''Wait just a moment! We blew up a research facility that wasn't associated with the Nazis? But instead, the Free French? '' Moffitt's head was aching again, though he wasn't really certain that it had ever stopped.
''Yes, that's effectively what we did. You were there.''
''So, let me get this straight. He ran towards the Germans out in the desert because he hates them? That makes no sense.''
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Moffitt suddenly got it. Troy said the LeFeurve had dropped the virus spores, though he hadn't said how or why. Moffitt had assumed that it had been an accident. Now he began to suspect that it was not. It had been a willful act and the intended target of infection wasn't Troy, it was Dietrich and his men. Tory merely happened to be collateral damage.
''Oh, '' Moffitt said. "I think that I see.''
MJ nodded. "Suicidal, but sacrificing one's self to rid the world of several dozen of Bosch is likely considered to be a hero's death. Especially if they could spread the virus to more Germans.''
Something else also suddenly occurred to Moffitt. He rounded on MJ and looked at her hard. ''And what about you, Dr. Knight? Are you working for the Germans?'' Moffitt's hand went as imperceptibly as possible towards his gun holster.
''Not today, Sergeant Moffitt.'' MJ gave Moffitt an odd look before her eyes came to focus on the new position of his right hand. ''Don't get excited and jump to any conclusions which might result in you shooting me. I'm here at the request of Winston Churchill himself. That's what impressed your Captain Boggs so much. And that's why your patrol was assigned to help me. You came very highly recommended, you know. You four have certainly built up quite the reputation for yourselves. You should be proud.''
Moffitt ignored the compliment with little effort, his mind still trying to work out why MJ thought that all of this should make sense. ''But, the Free French would be considered our Allies. Why would the English government ask you, us, to attack them?''
''Some of the Free French are crazy, Jack. Especially one particular arm of them, they're radicals. DeGaul encourages them, brags about them to the other Allied leaders. Though, why he's proud of them, I'm not sure. They'd kill twenty innocent people to kill five Germans.''
''Vive la France,'' Moffitt muttered. He'd seen some of the more radical French forces when the French underground had helped him to get back to England after Dunkirk. They had made him nervous.
''LeFeurve is Free French, one of their most radical members. He created this virus in order to attack the Germans with it in France,'' MJ said.
''That hardly sounds prudent. Effective, yes, prudent, no. Wouldn't that have the potential to kill innocent people? The Allies or even French civilians?'' Moffitt's head was throbbing by this point.
''Exactly. This virus has an incubation period of a few days at the longest. Then, it continues to be contagious while the infected have the fever. People move around a lot in a war, Jack, from town to town, from country to country. The penetration range of the virus could be incredible.''
Moffitt tried to imagine what would happen if the deadly disease was unleashed in the wrong place and within a large enough population. He quickly realized that it wasn't anything that he really wanted to picture. It would likely make the Black Plague pale in comparison, spreading across Europe like wildfire. And with air travel, it would likely move to infect the Americas, Africa and everywhere in between with the same quickness.
"'Not to mention that LeFeurve managed to create the virus, but not a cure or a vaccine. He has a very bad habit of that, which is how I ended up meeting him the first time.'' MJ frowned. ''The Allied powers that be, especially Churchill as France is your neighbor, weren't interested at all in leaving anything to chance. They support Free France, but not at the risk of the loss of Allied lives.''
''And you were to take the virus to find a cure?'' Moffitt felt that certain things that had seemed like truths previously now needed restating.
''I was to destroy LeFeurve's work. Which we did a very nice job of, by the way. But I was also asked to take a sample of the virus just in case he'd managed to send his work to the Resistance in France, cure or no cure, with or without the foresight to create a vaccine. There were rumors that DeGaul had a sample that he was bragging about to some of the other Allied leaders. Called it his 'Bosch Extermination Plan.'''
''And Winnie head that and didn't care much for it, I imagine.''
''Yep, that's right. I do really think that there are more samples of the virus and spores out there. If not, I don't think that LeFeurve would have wasted the last known sample on Hauptmann Dietrich and his men. '' MJ looked around her make shift laboratory. "This makes finding a vaccine and a cure even more important. With that sample, I was going to work to find just that. Which in turn, I'd provide to the Allies.'' She looked around them in disbelief. "I never dreamed that it would be in these circumstances, though.''
''Yes, it's a bit do or die now, isn't it?'' After the words had left his mouth, Moffitt regretted his own unfortunate turn of phrase.
''Exactly. Speaking of which . . .'' MJ turned and put on another pair of gloves and picked up a band of tubing.
Moffitt watched as MJ rolled up her sleeve and wrapped the length of rubber around her bicep. She caught the one end in her teeth and pulled it to tighten it. Picking up some gauze, she dampened it in iodine and swabbed the crook of her arm. Moffitt was shocked when MJ picked up a syringe. He tried not to be squeamish as she plunged the needle into the crook of her arm. The syringe filled quickly with bright red blood.
''You're doing that to yourself?'' Moffitt asked her, incredulously.
Withdrawing the needle and then quickly removing the tubing, MJ looked at him. ''You would have done it?'' She cocked her head at him before reaching for a piece of cotton wool and a plaster. ''Actually, you look a little pale, Jack. Don't like the sight of blood?''
''Bothers me more to see it when it's someone else's.''
MJ stripped off one pair of gloves and put on another. She picked up another syringe. ''Well, I'm glad that it won't bother you when I take yours.'' Reaching for the iodine and the gauze again, she turned her back to Moffitt. ''Roll up your sleeve, Jack.'' She waited while Moffitt did as he was told. MJ prepared his arm and then slid the needle into the vein. ''I need a sample of your blood. I want to see if you're infected. I'll get Hitch and Tully and the others when they come back.''
''You'll be able to tell now? That quickly?''
"Yes, the virus is very aggressive.''
Moffitt watched as MJ withdrew a tube of blood and then was done with him as quickly as she had started. ''You're very good at that you know, I barely felt anything.''
''Thanks, in my line of work, I've had lots of practice. And you're a good bleeder.''
Moffitt pulled a face. ''Thanks. In my line of work, I've had lots of practice.''
''Well, that's unfortunate, but not surprising.'' MJ applied a plaster and a gob of cotton wool to the crook of Moffitt's arm. She pushed his forearm up and parallel to his upper arm. ''Hold that there for a while.''
Moffitt once again did as he was directed and watched MJ smear something from a vial and then her own blood on a slide. He watched as she covered the slide and then put it under a microscope. She nodded her head and then repeated the actions again, this time with Moffitt's blood.
Moffitt again found himself holding his breath. When she looked up, he exhaled. ''Well?'' he asked her, not sure if he wanted to know the diagnosis.
''So far, so good, Jack. I'd say that you're going to be fine. Make sure that if you go around Sam and the others that you wear your mask and gloves. I'll get another sample from you in 24 hours, just to be sure.''
Relief washed over Moffitt before he squashed it. A feeling of guilt replaced the relief. ''And you?'' he asked MJ.
''I'm fine, as well.''
When Moffitt had radioed out and given Troy the order to strip and wash, Troy had sounded less than enthusiastic about the instructions.
When Troy had relayed the message about burning the Kubelwagon to Dietrich, Moffitt could tell that Dietrich had been even less pleased. He had no trouble hearing and understanding the string of German curses in the background. But, as they had arrived back to their make shift camp in the second jeep and in their ill fitting clothing, they had all obviously complied with MJ's orders.
When the new arrivals had settled into their tent, MJ had come in with Moffitt as her aide to draw blood from Troy, Bader, Dietrich and LeFeurve. It had initially made Moffitt's stomach flip a bit, but, by the time that she had finished with the first man, he found that it hardly bothered him. With a strange detachment, Moffitt labeled each of the vials of the blood with the name of a man that he knew, like he was labeling bits of pottery uncovered at a dig.
Science, Moffitt supposed, was science no matter what the discipline.
Finished, MJ had taken the vials of neatly labeled blood back to the other tent. Moffitt had stayed behind.
For men that could be facing death, Moffitt thought that they all seemed rather calm. Troy had lain back on his bunk, smoking. Dietrich was lamenting, in German, to Bader about all of the paperwork that was going to be involved in getting yet another Kubelwagon. LeFeurve had appeared to be taking a nap.
Perhaps, Moffitt thought, it just hadn't sunk in as of yet for them that their lives were in real danger. He wondered what would happen when, and if, the disease began to set in. Shaking his head, he put the thoughts out of his mind. With a hope that he knew was likely over optimistic, he found himself thinking that maybe none of them would have caught the virus. After all, he and MJ had been lucky and she had made the same pronouncement of Hitch and Tully. The difference, Moffitt knew all too well, was that they had been farther away when LeFeurve had released the virus spores.
''What happened out there, Troy?'' Moffitt asked.
Troy eyed him through the thin shroud of smoke that had enveloped them. ''You mean what happened that LeFeurve decided to expose us all to the virus?''
''Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking. Did he drop the vial? Was it an accident?'' Moffitt thought of the realization that had come to light when he was speaking with MJ. It was so unbelievable that he still wanted confirmation from Troy.
''It was no accident.'' Troy looked daggers at LeFeurve. ''LeFeurve opened up the case, took out the vial with the spores in it, calmly opened it, and then threw it at our feet.''
"Insanity. The man is stark raving mad.'' Moffitt was still open mouthed at the idea that the man would so easily sign his own death warrant and that of three, potentially seven, other people. Countless more if one was to consider Dietrich's column. Likely, only the wind blowing the wrong way had saved the German soldiers.
''Yeah, he's not quite right, that's for sure.'' Troy shook his head. ''It was all pretty normal up to that point. Dietrich drove up, got out of the wagon, you guys were coming for us, and we put our hands up. You know how it goes.''
Moffitt nodded. He was familiar with the act of standing in front of Dietrich with his hands up while waiting for rescue.
''And then LeFeurve starts in on Dietrich in French. And don't ask me what the guy said, I have no idea.''
''Did Dietrich understand him?''
''Yeah, apparently Dietrich and Bader both understood him. Bader told LeFeurve not to be stupid.'' Troy chuckled. ''From what I've seen of Lieutenant Bader, LeFeurve must have been saying something really dumb if Bader thought that it was stupid.''
Despite himself, Moffitt smiled. In his past interactions with the young man, Bader did indeed seem to have a talent for making unwise choices, much to Dietrich's frustration.
Troy snuck another look at LeFeurve. ''Did you know that LeFeurve is Free French? That he's with the Resistance?''
Moffitt nodded. "Yes, MJ told me.''
''When?'' Troy's face went hard. "When did she tell you that?''
''Here. In the camp.''
Troy banged his head back against the wall in frustration. ''Would it have killed her to tell us that before? I can't imagine that Boggs is going to be very happy to hear that we blew up a building that belonged to the French Resistance.''
Moffitt thought that Boggs might be very happy to hear it, if what MJ had told him previously was true. However, if Troy had known who occupied their target, it was unlikely that he would have agreed to the attack. It occurred to Moffitt that Boggs' and MJ's omission around the ownership of the building had been on purpose to achieve the desired outcome.
''I don't guess that you'd like to hear what LeFeurve told us about our friend Dr. Knight, would you?'' Troy stubbed his cigarette out.
'''Very much. I asked her the same question, but I didn't really get much of an answer.''
''He claims that she's working for the Germans.''
Thinking back to when he asked MJ if she was working for the Germans and her response, Moffitt began to wonder if MJ wasn't playing both sides of the fence. ''What did Dietrich say about that?'' Moffitt asked.
''He explained to Dr. LeFeurve in lots of detail about how MJ shot two of his men and hurt two others. One of which, apparently was Bader. Seems Bader got some broken ribs out of his last encounter with Dr. Knight.''
''I see. MJ did share that she had had a previous run in with LeFeurve. Apparently, he likes to play with dangerous things for dangerous purposes,'' Moffitt said, finally. "I don't think that either side would really like it if his projects were allowed to come to fruition.''
''No, can't imagine that anyone would. But he said that the last time he had seen her, she took his work and the Germans ended up with it. For a guy with some limitation in his English skills, he did a good job of telling Dietrich that he wanted the Germans out of France at any cost and in about a dozen different ways. Each statement, nastier than the last.''
''So, we've established that LeFeurve hates Nazis.'' Moffitt looked at Dietrich and Bader. He looked back at Troy. ''Normally, I'd like that about someone.''
''Yeah, me too. But this guy, he seems to not like anyone. And I really don't like him.''
''I'm sure that the fact that we helped MJ to blow his work sky high, take him prisoner, and take the virus hasn't exactly endeared us to him.'' Moffitt thought about it. ''And really, I don't think that it was unnatural for him reach the conclusion that if he's making something to kill Germans and then someone takes it, that person must be working for the Germans. It's a valid syllogism.''
Moffitt noticed the frown that settled on Troy's face. He easily recognized the expression. ''Logical conclusion,'' Moffitt defined.
''Ah. The ally of my enemy is my enemy, right?''
"That's a very good way to sum it up.''
''Got it. Yeah, I guess so. I like that idea better than just thinking that all of Allied high command and us were just suckered by a pretty face and a lot of medical mumbo jumbo into believing that the Germans were behind the whole thing.''
Moffitt nodded. He couldn't agree more, but he also knew the Troy wished that his leaders had just been honest with him from the beginning.
''But,'' said Troy, his tone resigned as he settled back in his bunk, ''I guess that it doesn't really matter now, does it? We all have a common enemy. So now, the enemy of my enemy is my ally.''
''And regardless of whether we trust her or not, Dr. Knight is our only hope.''
''Yep.'' Troy smoked in silence until only the butt of his cigarette remained. He stubbed it out and then looked at Moffitt, as if seeing him for the first time. ''Are you okay?'' His eyes came to rest on Moffitt's head wound. ''Looks like you needed some patching up.''
''Yes, but I'm absolutely fine. And my scratch is not nearly as impressive as your black eye, old man.''
Troy put a hand to his face. ''I'd forgotten all about that. Looks pretty rough?''
''Yes, it does.'' Moffitt grinned. ''Both injuries, courtesy of Dr. LeFeurve. He has had quite a day today. No wonder he needs a nap.'' Moffitt's smile faded as he recalled LeFeurve's greatest blow of the day. Their other injuries paled by comparison.
''Bastard. I should have left him in that building,'' Troy said softly. He looked up at Moffitt. ''Are you sick? Can Dr. Knight tell?''
''No, I'm not.'' Moffitt felt guilty again as he said it.
''Should you be in here?'' Troy asked. "You know, with us?''
There was a worry and concern in Troy's eyes, that despite everything, Moffitt found ridiculously touching. Looking away, Moffitt fingered his mask. ''Nothing to worry about, Dr. Knight says, as long as I wear this.''
''Good. And Hitch and Tully?''
''They're fine, as well,'' Moffitt reassured him. He grinned. "'Also wearing masks. They're not pleased about it.''
"Moffitt.'' Troy reached out and caught Moffitt's arm. ''Will you promise me, mask or no mask, no matter what happens, that you won't let Tully and Hitch anywhere near us if we get sick?''
''I'd already given them the same orders. They were predictably not very pleased by those, either.'' Both Tully and Hitch had protested violently, but in the end Moffitt had stood his ground. He was glad. If it would give Troy some small feeling of comfort and keep them safe as well, the boys would live with being unhappy.
Troy let his hand fall back against the bed. ''Good. Thanks, Moffitt.''
''No worries.'' Moffitt studied Troy. Just like all the other men, he looked the same as normal. ''And how are you, Troy? Do you feel all right?''
''Yeah. Maybe a little tired, but that's not unusual. We haven't exactly gotten a lot of sleep in the past few days, right?'' Troy suddenly yawned.
Moffitt nodded. Their late night wakeup call two nights prior seemed like it happened years ago. It was true that they'd had any quality rest since then.
''Well, you should get some sleep, then.'' Moffitt put his hand on Troy's shoulder. ''I'll go back and see what I can do to help Dr. Knight.''
Troy smiled at him. ''Ph.D. and now you're working on your MD?''
''Doubtful. I'm sure I'll be little more than a nuisance to her.'' Moffitt quirked his mouth up. ''You'll likely be able to sympathize with her.''
Looking up at him from under heavy lids, Troy grinned. ''You haven't been a nuisance for a long time, Doctor.''
As Troy yawned again and then closed his eyes, Moffitt got up and went over to Dietrich and Bader. They seemed to be involved in a game of cards.
''Guten abend, mien Herrs,'' Moffitt said, with a salute.
Dietrich didn't bother to return the salute. ''If you say so, Sergeant.'' He played a card off of one of Bader's before digging a cigarette and a lighter out of his shirt pocket.
''Hungry?'' Moffitt asked.
Bader nodded. "Yes, starving.''
''I have heard that Allied field rations are better than ours. I wouldn't mind to try some,'' Dietrich said.
''Well, then yours must be bloody awful then,'' Moffitt said cheerfully. ''Anything else that you need? More cigarettes?''
Bader played a card and Moffitt watched as Dietrich soundly trumped him. Dietrich sighed. ''A new partner in the game?''
Bader looked hurt. ''I am trying my very best, Herr Hauptmann.''
''I'd be pleased to play with you later. If you like, that is.'' Moffitt remembered something that might be of interest to Dietrich. ''Also, I think that I also saw a chessboard in some of the things that we were unpacking. Do you play, Herr Hauptmann? I don't know about you, but I far prefer chess to cards.''
''Of course I play and I don't disagree with you, Sergeant.'' Dietrich appeared to think about it. ''Why not? I think that we will likely have time on our hands while Dr. Knight sorts this out. More than enough time for a game or two between us.'' Dietrich's eyes darkened. "All things considered, I'm sure that you will be a very worthy opponent, Sergeant.''
Moffitt realized that Dietrich was no doubt thinking about the circumstances that led him to be playing games of strategy with his enemy on a board instead of in the desert.
''Hitch, get dinner started, will you?'' Moffitt asked as he walked past where Hitch and Tully were playing catch.
Hitch and Tully were at the minimum prescribed distance from the quarantine tent. Moffitt was pleased to note that they were both wearing their masks.
Their situation was doing little to make Hitch affable and his mask did little to hide his displeasure. ''Ah, gee, Sarge, do I have to?''
''And why don't you make some coffee while you're at it, too?'' Moffitt asked, feeling a bit more than just a little of the devil.
Tully snickered. Hitch glared at Moffitt. Pretending not to notice, Moffitt continued to walk towards MJ's tent.
''Hey, Sarge?'' Tully called after him.
Moffitt turned. "Yes, Tully?''
''Well . . . I was just wondering.'' Tully looked down. When he looked back up, he looked worried. "How are they?''
''They all seem fine. I'm going to see Dr. Knight now to see if she knows for certain how they are. She can tell by analyzing their blood. Just as she did ours.''
''What if they're not fine? What if they're sick?'' Hitch asked. His at pique over being asked to cook and make coffee had apparently been forgotten.
Moffitt sighed. ''Well, if they're sick, then Dr. Knight will just have to find a way to cure them.''
Tully looked skeptical. ''And you think that she can?''
''Have you seen anything yet that she couldn't do?'' Moffitt nodded his heads towards where the jeeps were parked. ''Go get dinner started, will you, Hitch? And use some of those spices that Dr. Knight used, if you can find them.''
''Sure. But I'm not sure that my food is going to taste as good as hers did,'' Hitch said, doubtfully.
''Well, give it your best go, will you, Hitch? It's not likely that you're going to make it taste any worse than it does normally.''