TEN

Jan. 10th: 0900 hours

Captain Sterling, on his daily visit to the 4077th, brought a large stack of reports for Colonel MacAllister to review. The frown on the officer's face grew deeper as he read each page. Shaking his head in disbelief, the Texan muttered something, in Spanish, under his breath.

His assistant nodded in agreement, "I can't believe they're lowering the level of surveillance. You called it right, sir."

"Unfortunately, yes," the senior officer shrugged. "Sterling, Fannin and I will be flying out of here after this briefing. We'll start reorganizing as soon as I get back."

"Yes, sir." The man grinned at his commanding officer, "I take it you haven't told your sister you're leaving yet."

"Nope," the man replied with a grin of his own. "Care to stick around for the fireworks?"

After his assistant left with his latest instructions, Colonel MacAllister requested a meeting with the medical commander and the senior members of his staff. The others were already waiting inside as he was wheeled into the outer office.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Sarabeth asked in concern.

"I'm up to this," the man answered. "But, I sure wish you would give me back my pants!" Annoyed, he indicated the hospital pajamas and bathrobe that had been issued to him.

"When you're released as ambulatory; I'll find something long enough for you to wear. In the meantime, you'll just have to give your briefing in your briefs," his sister snickered.

"At least he's ready for night maneuvers," Fannin added. Wearing his uniform, he grinned broadly as his older brother glared at him.

With an exasperated sigh, the Texan shook his head. "Let's just get this over with," he stated seriously as he pulled himself out of the wheelchair.

"Y'all need to be informed about some recent events," the Army Intelligence officer surveyed the medical personnel who were crowded into the commander's office. "I admit that I feel silly conducting a military briefing while wearing pajamas, a bathrobe and slippers," Crockett MacAllister grimaced slightly. "However, I reckon I'll just have to ride the horse I draw."

The man returned his attention to the people who were waiting, "A little background information is necessary. For several months now, we have been monitoring the career advancements of a man in the Chinese Army...Zheng He."

"We always find it interesting whenever a minor official experiences a rapid rise in rank---all the way up to General---especially when his commanding officers and political opponents begin experiencing inexplicable accidents at the same time."

MacAllister continued his explanation, "Now, the original Zheng He was a 15th century explorer with a thirst for adventure. This modern day namesake only has a thirst for blood. Like every successful despot, he is charismatic. And, he has won the support of the majority of the Chinese rabble by providing appealing scapegoats: 'the evil, treacherous round-eyes who have invaded the territory of the Glorious Regime'. He has ordered his troops to win this fight against the 'round-eyes' by any means possible."

"Y'all have seen the results of his encouragement. So have other medical and combat units in the U. N. peace keeping forces: the increased brutality on the battlefields, the vicious maiming of men who are already injured...men who have already surrendered...men who are shown no-quarter."

Major Houlihan nodded in understanding, "You're right, sir. The injuries we've been seeing recently are far more extensive... and more malicious...than usual."

"Yes, they are," the red-haired man commented. "Back in September, we began hearing disturbing rumors. In December, those rumors changed into disturbing truths. Zheng He has been increasing his standing within the Chinese Army by sharpening his focus. In addition to the excessive cruelty already being shown, his soldiers have been ordered to destroy the 'demons' who walk with the 'round-eyes'."

"Demons? What demons?" Captain Pierce wanted to know. "It sounds like he's been drinking too much rice wine."

"Even if that were the case, Captain," MacAllister replied, "the results are still reprehensible. The majority of the common soldiers in the Chinese Army---and the North Korean Army, for that matter---are conscripted farm workers and day laborers. They are illiterate and superstitious. Many of them believe in evil spirits who roam the earth spreading destruction and death."

"Zheng He has convinced them that the only way to cleanse the land of these evil spirits is to get rid of their demonic representatives...the people who are the most obviously non-Asian...fair-haired or darker skinned people."

"That explains the hair concealed within a hat order," Major Winchester ventured.

"Anyone...and everyone...who stand out are possible targets," the senior MacAllister confirmed. "The opinion of most of the people assigned to monitor this general was that he would limit his actions to fighting units." Crockett said, "I didn't happen to agree with that consensus. So, when the situation escalated, military and medical outfits in my sector were put on full alert."

Colonel MacAllister, who was leaning against a file cabinet, walked over to the window. For a few moments, he stood and stared at the view outside. Rubbing his injured shoulder, he turned to face the group, "I would like to say that my assessment of the situation was wrong. It wasn't."

"And, speaking as a brother, I would like for the ladies to leave the room before I go any further." He permitted himself a small grin when he noticed the women's reactions to his words, "However, speaking as a colonel, I'm not going to order them to leave."

Neither nurse left her seat.

"Your response doesn't surprise me any. However, what I have to say is very unsettling," the man warned.

"We're prepared, Colonel," the head nurse asserted.

"I doubt it," he muttered, grimly. "Nevertheless..." The officer addressed the group, "Most of y'all lack the security clearance to hear this; so I would prefer that this story remains inside this office. It will soon be common knowledge, however."

"On December 26th, we received an urgent request for assistance from British Army Intelligence. One of their jeeps was missing. They had found the bodies of the driver and the guard. They had been slaughtered. But the two passengers were gone. They were a couple of nurses who were on their way to a Christmas Eve outing. They were both young, pretty...blondes."

"Oh, no!" Houlihan exclaimed.

Turning pale, Captain Hunnicutt whispered, "Colonel, I have the feeling I'm going to wish you had ordered all of us out of the room."

"It is not a pleasant topic," MacAllister agreed. "They had been missing for nearly two days by the time we were notified. We have been conducting a very extensive search for those women ever since."

"You have found them, haven't you?" Hesitantly, Father Mulcahy asked.

"It was extremely difficult to track them down. But, yes. We finally located them. Deep inside North Korean territory---in one of Zheng He's special camps. They were being used as...as...rewards...for his soldiers," the Texan spat out the words in angry distaste. "In fact, their presence was confirmed by one of those brutes when he bragged about what he done to the 'straw-haired demons' they had captured."

Glancing at the horrified expressions on the faces of the people in Potter's office, the soldier continued his account, "The day after that confirmation, on January 4th, a joint rescue mission was initiated. My squad was to go in first...eliminate any sentries we might encounter...and free those women. We had also discovered they were holding five men prisoners. We were to get all of the captives safely away before the main attack on the camp began."

"However; 'the best-laid schemes o' Mice an' Men gang aft agley.' (Robert Burns)", the man quoted. "Anyway, we managed to get them all out---with only minor injuries."

"Your definition of minor is different than mine," Sarabeth observed softly.

"Will they be all right?" Mulcahy asked.

"All of them required hospitalization. The men will probably recover. The women..." the soldier sighed, "The women are going to need more than just a medical doctor's help."

"I know a good psychiatrist...Major Sidney Freedman," Colonel Potter offered.

"Yes, he's already been contacted," MacAllister stated. "He was hopeful for their recovery."

"Now, the question is: What will Zheng He do next? He was wounded in that attack. He lost his...play toys. He lost several of his loyal officers. He lost his base and all of the weapons he had stockpiled there. And, perhaps the most important...he lost face. To the Chinese, that is one of the worst possible things that can happen to someone."

With a knowing grin, Fannin commented, "He did gain a new nightmare, however."

"Yes. I sincerely hope he finds his slumber haunted," Crockett returned with his own wolfish grin.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that---after the alarm was sounded and while you were covering the retreat of your men---you were, very bravely and very brazenly, cussing out him out in Chinese, would it?" Sarabeth MacAllister questioned mildly.

Instead of responding, Crockett glared at Fannin, angrily. His brother shrugged and remained silent.

"Answer my question, big brother," the woman warned. "You were not wearing your helmet, either, were you?"

The Texan replied, laconically, "Nope."

"And all this time I've been thinking that my Mama hadn't raised any stupid children."

"I know it was stupid, Sarabeth," Crockett MacAllister admitted. "But it was also a very good psychological weapon. Zheng He has been using the threat of 'demons' to gain his position. And, he has been butchering our people with impunity. I wanted him...and his men...to realize that THE biggest, meanest, maddest, most dangerous 'fire-haired demon' they could ever possibly imagine was after all of them...and after Zheng He in particular."

The youngest MacAllister asked, "And not even bullets will stop this 'demon'?"

"That's right. I told Zheng He I'd be back for him. And I told him that his men would hear his screams for the next 1,000 years."

"I especially liked it," the pilot offered, "when you told him you were going to pull his intestines out through his eye sockets and then make him eat them."

Sarabeth nodded, "I reckon he should sleep soundly after all that."

"I reckon so," the colonel agreed.

"Wait a minute," Pierce interrupted. "Listen to yourselves! You're casually talking about eviscerating people. And, earlier, you said you eliminated the sentries. How? I'm sure it wasn't by merely tying them up. How did you eliminate them?"

"Do you really want to know?" MacAllister asked.

"Yes," Pierce insisted.

"We killed them," the soldier stated matter-of-factly.

"Just like that: we killed them. Why doesn't that bother you?" The doctor demanded. "They're brutal. So you have to be brutal, too?"

"Doc, I reckon you'd better stick to medicine," Fannin MacAllister growled.

"Pierce, you're out of line!" Colonel Potter spoke at the same time.

"No. I want to know," the man persisted. "Why does that give you the right to kill someone else in return? Don't you understand? The killings have to stop somewhere."

"Look, Pierce; you're a surgeon," MacAllister tried to explain. "When you have a patient with cancer, do you just leave the tumor alone and hope it will go away? Or do you remove the diseased tissue to preserve the healthy?"

"You're talking about cells. I'm talking about people."

"These are the same sadistic people who continually tortured their prisoners and repeatedly raped those women! What the hell did you want me to do!" Colonel MacAllister responded angrily. All the rage he had been suppressing, ever since he learned of the missing women, erupted. "Knock on their god-blasted door and ask them to return our people to us!"

"Or maybe you wanted me to just wait around until the thrice-damned bastards got tired of torturing them and then pick up the remains after they tossed them out!"

"You weren't there, Pierce!" MacAllister exclaimed furiously. "You didn't have to go into that filthy hovel and find those women chained to a post! You didn't have to look into their disfigured faces and realize that there was nothing left alive behind those vacant eyes!"

"Damn it, man! You...!" Crockett struggled to regain control of his anger. "Anyway," he took a deep breath and grew calmer---overlooking Pierce's outburst---and his own, "what we think is going to happen next..."

The company clerk knocked at the door and entered, "Excuse the interruption. Colonel MacAllister, there's a call for you. He says it's urgent."

Looking tired, Crockett said in an undertone, "It always is." Resolutely, he squared his shoulders, "On my way, Corporal. Fannin," MacAllister ordered as he left the office, "finish up in here."

"Yes, sir," his younger brother acknowledged, "In deference to the ladies, I'm going to assume that he meant finish the briefing. Not finish the cussing out which is so richly deserved." He stared, infuriated, at the Chief Surgeon.

"I still say..." the doctor began.

"Pierce!" Potter raised his voice. "You've said enough."

"Get on with it, big brother," Sarabeth added.

"All right. Some people in Army Intelligence think that, with his camp destroyed and his troops demoralized, Zheng He won't be a threat to us any longer. Crockett doesn't agree with that. He says he's acquired a taste for power. And he's not going to give it up so easily. That he's going to crawl into a hole somewhere, lick his wounds and emerge again…soon."