Feeling as though his legs had been filled with lead, Moffitt managed to make his way back to the infirmary.
Dr. Somme was waiting for him. So, it seemed, was Dietrich.
Dietrich raised his eyebrows at Moffitt. Moffitt nodded. Dietrich returned the nod and settled back against on his pillow.
If Somme noticed the exchange, he gave no hint. He took Moffitt's arm. "Sergeant, Dr. Knight is in the final stages of the disease.''
Moffitt remembered what Hitch had told him about the man whose blood could have saved MJ's life. "Hitch let me know that the donor should be here within the hour.''
Removing his glasses, Somme put one of the earpieces in his mouth and appeared to think. Finally, he looked up at Moffitt. He shook his head. "I am not sure that it's going to be of any consequence.''
Tenacity came to Moffitt out of sheer habit. "She's still alive, isn't she?''
"True enough. But the old adage of while there is life there is hope is not always true, Sergeant.''
Moffitt felt the reality of the room around him slipping away. He put out a hand and steadied himself against a gurney. "Why was her illness so much more aggressive? Than ever Bader's?''
"Oh. I did not share with you how Dr. Knight became infected, did I?'' Somme looked in the direction of where MJ lay. "I did determine the cause. It explains much.''
"How? Did she finally tell you?''
"No, not really. She told me that same thing that she told you. That she did not know how her exposure occurred.''
"Go on, Dr. Somme. You seem to have figured it out. Am I right?''
"Dr. Knight also shared with me that she was testing a potential vaccine that she had believed to be successful.''
"I see. And you believe that her illness is related to the vaccine?'' Moffitt was not quite sure why he was bothering to have the conversation with Somme. What he was telling him was not hardly unexpected, nor did it seem as if it was of any use.
"Yes. The vaccine has a live sample of the disease in it. If the concentration is not correct, it will result in illness. Ironically, the vaccination will do the opposite of what it should.''
"I would hazard a guess that injecting the virus into your bloodstream would cause the infection to progress very rapidly.''
"Yes. The odd thing is, Dr. Knight maintained that her infection was coincidental and not related to the vaccine. Of course, it was not.'' Somme shook his head. "I do not really believe she had any idea that the vaccination would kill instead of save. But it is quite clear where she went wrong if you review her notes.''
"Of course. If you could read them.'' Moffitt remembered the scrawling that he had reviewed a few afternoons earlier. "And you shared your findings with her?'' Moffitt nodded, as he knew that the answer had to be an affirmative.
"Yes, she was conscious for a bit while you were having dinner. I shared with her that she had made a mistake.''
Moffitt thought about that. "In the end, you must have gotten through to her,'' he said, thinking about MJ's confession to him.
''I am not sure.'' Dr. Somme looked rueful. "I do not think that Dr. Knight is acquainted with making many mistakes. Arrogance of that type, even when founded, is dangerous. This could have resulted in the infection of hundreds of thousands of people. But, it is only Dr. Knight that is paying the price.''
"Another hard lesson to be learned here, certainly. Even if Dr. Knight did not know, I think that someone else knew that the vaccine was deadly.'' When Somme had turned a puzzled face to him, Moffitt continued. "I believe that Dr. LeFeurve also knew that the vaccine that was created here was dangerous.''
"How?''
"They were working together at one point, before he died. On the vaccine and what we know now to be the non-existent cure.''
Somme looked surprised. "Dr. LeFeurve would have realized that yes, just as he would have known that there was no cure,'' he finally said. "It is same mistake that I made when we were first testing the vaccine. The danger of the vaccine is hard to detect in any testing other than through actually administering it. But, Dr. LeFeurve would have easily recognized it the second time around.''
Even at the end of all of it, even when Moffitt thought that he had it all figured out, there were still enough dangling loose ends to give him pause.
Moffitt asked himself if LeFeurve had helped MJ created the vaccine in hopes that she would take his work and give it to the Germans. Or, perhaps LeFeurve had hoped that it would kill MJ even before she had had the opportunity to do so.
Knowing LeFeurve, Moffitt realized that the man had probably been hoping for both. Rubbing his head, Moffitt sighed. "How much longer does she have?''
"It is hard to say.'' Somme's expression indicated to Moffitt that it was likely not long.
"May I see her? Is she conscious?''
"Yes. The patients often are in the final stages. It is one of the cruelest things about the virus.''
Moffitt turned to go and Somme put a hand out to stop him. "Sergeant, I will warn you that if you are with her when the end comes, it will be quick and it will not be pleasant.''
"Well, this whole thing has been less than pleasant, so that's hardly a surprise.'' While Somme's words were well meaning, Moffitt wasn't about to let the warning put him off.
After all, MJ likely had enough things on her conscious to regret. If he could allow her to ease her burden by one, Moffitt felt that he could endure.
When Moffitt saw MJ, he fully understood why Somme had warned him.
She was deathly pale and every gasp sounded like the rattle that would indicate that she had taken her last breath. The pillow on which her head rested was covered with blood and more continued to pool under her nose and at the corners of her mouth.
With an unsteady hand, Moffitt pulled the chair over and sat down by MJ's bed. After a moment, he took her hand.
"MJ, can you hear me?''
A frown passed across her face. She tried to speak and while no words passed her lips, a bubble of bloody froth formed. An inward breath caused it to break.
Swallowing his queasiness, Moffitt leaned closer to her. "MJ, I wanted to tell you, I delivered your message to the Germans. They know that the vaccine would cause the illness instead of prevent it.''
MJ frowned and then nodded. "So that was the right decision?''
As more often than not, as he talked with MJ Moffitt felt his frustration rise. "What's that supposed to mean? Of course it was.''
"Jack, each side of that decision had consequences.'' The words were spoken so softly that Moffitt may have missed them if he had not been so close.
"What?'' Moffitt tried to make sense of her enigmatic reply.
"There are so many evils in this world and some will survive.''
Moffitt suddenly wondered what exactly he had chosen. "You knew that vaccine would cause the illness, didn't you, MJ?''
"I knew that it was a possibility. And then, after I got sick, I was sure.''
"Hang on.'' Moffitt remembered the sequence of events. "You knew that you were sick before you planted the vaccine for the Germans.''
MJ looked at him and blinked. "Of course I did.''
Any surprise that Moffitt would have felt the MJ would have lied to Somme was long gone, but still, he found her response shocking. "But why would you have given it to them? If you knew that it was deadly?'' Moffitt found himself wondering just exactly how mad the world had gone.
''Some live so that others may die. Some die so that others may live. It was a hard decision to make. But I made it. And then, you made another one. Probably a better one.''
"Allowing people to become infected after taking the vaccine would have killed thousands of innocent people.'' Moffitt shook his head. "It was one of the easiest decisions of my life.''
"Was it? The vaccine would have killed more than one not so innocent person.'' MJ sighed. "That's the hard question, or at least it was for me. How many deaths are worth the death of a few men?''
"None,'' Moffitt said with conviction.
"A lesser man might have come to another conclusion." MJ's lips twitched. "There was a chance that virus could have ended the war, Jack. Pretty quickly, too. You know that they would have given it to their highest ranking officials first.''
Moffitt had thought about that before he had made his transmission to the Germans. "Yes, I'm sure. From Hitler on down. But there's no guarantee that it would have killed any of them, is there? They would have surely tested it first, surely, before giving it to anyone of any importance.''
"I'd guess that would be true. But even in that process we could have rid the world with of some evil.''
There was something about the way that MJ responded that gave Moffitt pause. "It sounds like you had someone particular in mind.''
"I did. I wish that I had the time to tell you everything. There's so much more that you should have known, Jack.''
Feeling as if he knew more than he'd ever wish that he'd had to discover, Moffitt shook his head. "About what?''
"About me and about everything else. You think that you understand, but really, you're only getting the tip of the iceberg, Jack."
"Well, if you can tell me only one thing, who were you working for MJ? The Allies or the Germans? I thought that I knew, now I'm not so sure.''
"I was working for myself, Jack. Everything else was just collateral damage.''
Moffitt heard a new voice exchanging words with Dr. Somme and Henri. "We can continue this conversation later. You did promise me some whiskey, you know.'' Moffitt tried and failed at both sounding positive and smiling. "Your donor is here.''
"Too late for me, Jack. I know that you don't have much trust left in me at all, but trust me in that.''
"You're not always right about everything, you know.''
"You'd be surprised. I am sorry about the whiskey. And everything else.'' Again, MJ started to cough. The sound was liquid and it did not stop, nor did the profusion of bright red blood that began pouring from MJ's lips.
Moffitt jumped up so quickly that his vision dimmed. "Oh God!'' Uselessly, he tried to clear her mouth. MJ appeared to be choking and there was nothing that Moffitt could do. "Dr. Somme! Please hurry!''
In a moment, Somme and Henri had slipped behind the screens.
Moffitt stood as if he was rooted to the spot. Henri moved Moffitt none too gently out of the way.
On the bed, MJ convulsed briefly and then was still. Her head was at an angle that made it look to Moffitt as if her now lifeless eyes were staring into his.
Somme turned to say something to Moffitt.
The man's mouth moved but the rushing in Moffitt's ears did not allow him to hear the words.
When his world began to tilt, Moffitt felt Henri's big arms go around him, likely keeping him from crashing to the floor.
However, it did not stop the darkness from closing around Moffitt with a blessed quickness.
When Moffitt opened his eyes, he realized that he had no idea where he was.
Gradually, it became obvious that he was in MJ's old lab. Looking around, it looked just as he had recalled, but it was empty. He listened and heard nothing.
"What the bloody hell?'' Frowning, Moffitt pulled himself up. "Did the war end and someone forgot to tell me?" he muttered to himself.
"If only.'' The voice came from the opening of tent and there was no mistaking it as Troy's.
"Troy.'' Moffitt was relieved to see the familiar face.
"Moffitt.''
Pausing for a moment, Moffitt took stock of his physical condition. Other than being slightly groggy and having a needle inserted in his arm, he could not find anything amiss physically. He seemed to be whole, alive, and well.
Troy settled into the chair beside of Moffitt's bed. A grin spread across his face. "Well, this is a change of pace, isn't it? Me sitting by your bedside?''
Moffitt sighed. "Actually, in the grand scheme of things, it's more normal than not. I am glad to see you up and around, Troy. That is what I would call a nice change. Has Dr. Somme given you a clean bill of health?''
"Yeah. A day ago. Somme is still around though, and he's been keeping us all on a pretty short leash.'' Troy looked fed up with his convalescence and everything that went along with it, including the care of the doctor.
Moffitt smiled. From experience, he didn't envy Somme his task of trying to keep Troy in check.
''But you know how it is. Just getting being able to get out of bed is an accomplishment, so a short leash on a long run is better than nothing at all.'' Troy cast an eye at the entrance of the tent for a moment and then pulled a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. He lit one and gingerly inhaled.
Watching as Troy grimaced, Moffitt voiced his rather obvious observation. "Lungs still a bit sore?''
Troy exhaled and took another hit from the cigarette. "The first drag is always the roughest. Once you get past that, it's not so bad.''
Briefly, Moffitt wondered why Troy had picked the habit up again after so many days of abstaining, but he didn't bother to ask. After all, smoking was as much a part of Troy as were his bush hat and his sometimes prickly attitude.
"You're sure that you're all right?'' Moffitt asked instead, fully remembering to how close Troy had come to dying just a few days earlier.
"Right as rain.'' Troy coughed slightly and put his hand to his chest. "Almost, anyway."
"Excellent.''
"And I know that you'll ask, so I'll go ahead and tell you. Dietrich and Bader are in pretty good shape. They were itching to get out of here, so Hitch found a ride for them. A couple of their medical corps came and picked them up today. Dietrich was throwing a fit in German when they tried to take him out on a stretcher. '' Troy chuckled at the memory. "Do you know this means? Ich brauche nicht Ihre Sorge, ihr Idioten. Sind Sie blind? I got the last part, all by myself."
"Yes, I do. I would translate it into 'get your hands off of me you, bloody idiots, as I don't need your help.' Very good pronunciation, Troy.''
"Yeah, he said it so many times, that I had no problem picking it up.''
"You've obviously learned German the Dietrich way. Lots of yelling and self righteous indignation when it seems like things are not going the way that he thinks that they should.''
"Yeah, he was hot all right. He was in the best shape of all of us, throughout the entire thing.'' Troy considered what he had just said. "I guess Dietrich is pretty good at getting knocked down and then getting back up again.''
"Well, he's had plenty of practice, courtesy of you.'' Moffitt grinned faintly. "Best news in the world though that you all came through this all right. Even Dietrich and Bader.''
All of them, thought Moffitt, had survived. Except for MJ.
Obviously, Troy's mind had gone to the same place even if he wasn't saying it. "Yeah.'' He shook his head. "Tully and Hitch made it through okay, too. Never did get sick. Thank God."
"Are they still here?''
"Tully is, somewhere. I gave Hitch permission to go back into the town. It was to take Henri back, but really, I think that he met a girl there at some point. Don't ask me how."
"It's Hitch, Troy. Do you really need to ask?''
"Yeah, that's true. Can't take that kid anywhere.'' Troy's gaze had moved to study his cigarette. Finally, he looked over at Moffitt and squinted at him through the veil of smoke. "How are you?''
"Well, I think. Speaking of which, why am I laid up?''
Troy appeared to think hard about what he wanted to say. "I think that the official opinion of the doc was that you were exhausted, dehydrated, and underfed.''
Despite himself, Moffitt gave Troy a lopsided grin. "So only a little worse off than normal, then?''
"Yeah.'' Tory laughed, his eyes crinkling.
''So, if I'm well, why this?'' Moffitt lifted his arm and pointed at the catheter and the tubing that led to an IV bag. "This is usually a very good sign that I'm not well.''
"Dr. Somme sedated you.''
Moffitt narrowed his eyes. "I am assuming that you knew nothing about that, did you Troy?''
"Well,'' Troy said, drawing the word out and ducking his head, "he did ask me before he did it. And I told him to go ahead."
Moffitt ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the growth there. "How long?'' he asked, feeling suddenly like Rip Van Winkle.
"Three days, I guess. A little more, maybe.'' Troy met Moffitt's glare. "Look, Moffitt, it was for the best.''
"I see. May I ask why?''
Troy hesitated, appearing to think about what he wanted to say. "I think . . . that at the end it was all just too much. Would've been too much for anyone. You know?''
Even though Troy couldn't know the full truth of his assessment as he had not watched MJ's gruesome last moments, Moffitt realized how just accurate Troy's words were. "You might be right at that, Troy.''
Troy put out his cigarette and then made a show of waving the smoke away. Moffitt knew that Somme would likely give Troy quite the tongue lashing if he knew that he had been smoking. The idea that Troy would go out of his way to avoid conflict with the little Frenchman was, despite everything, amusing.
Moffitt couldn't help but to snicker.
"What?'' Troy asked, giving Moffitt a look that he didn't think that he would ever be happy to see.
But seeing it made Moffitt very glad indeed, as it meant that things were nearer to normal than they had been for a long time. "Oh, nothing, Troy.''
"I'll let the doc know that you're awake. He'll probably want to check you out before he lets you up and around again. I don't think that they'll be much to it.''
Moffitt suddenly felt ashamed. After all, Troy had almost died and he seemed mostly fine. Moffitt himself hadn't even been sick and was now laid up.
It was, he thought, typical.
Troy, as if he was reading Moffitt's mind or at least deciphering his expression, made a dismissive gesture in response. "Don't worry about it. And besides, we're all grounded for at least another week, maybe more. Boggs'orders. So it's not like we would have been doing anything else.'' Troy waited a beat before he showed Moffitt a mouthful of even white teeth.
"Thanks, Troy.''
Once again, Troy looked serious. "Moffitt, I know this whole thing was rough. And I'm sorry about MJ. We all are. Damned shame. And I'm sorry that you had to deal with it all alone, from beginning to end.''
"Yes." For once, Moffitt was reluctant to say too much. The situation seemed difficult enough without talking it to death.
Troy nodded again before disappearing out the tent flap.
Alone again, Moffitt leaned back and closed his eyes. Thinking back to his string of nightmarish memories of the last fortnight, it almost seemed to him as if they had happened to someone else.
If only, Moffitt thought, that it had.
Not only had his trust in MJ been completely shattered, but then there was MJ's admission that Troy and the rest had been allowed to suffer much longer than had been needed. Moffitt again wondered who had made that decision. He realized that it was unlikely that he would ever know. What he did know was that all signs pointed to the fact that it was someone in whom they had trusted. If not Boggs, then to someone else even higher ranking.
It was a heavy blow to Moffitt, one even more disturbing to him than finding that out MJ's true motives had been less than pure. Motives which had led MJ to use the Rat Patrol to further her own ends, to murder LeFeurve, and to work for the Germans and the Allies. And in addition, it had almost led her to endanger innocent lives through a faulty iteration of the vaccine.
God only knew, thought Moffitt, what else Dr. MJ Knight had had up her sleeve or in her past. And he supposed that he would never know, though he had a hard time accepting that.
What he did know was that the entire situation amounted to a string of lessons learned for him. For once, Moffitt knew, he would not be sharing his knowledge with the others.
"Sarge?''
Moffitt looked up. Despite his dark thoughts, the smile that he gave his visitor was genuine. "Tully! It's absolutely fantastic to see you!''
Tully nodded, standing shyly in the tent opening.
Moffitt sat up straighter. ''Come in and take a seat. ''
Tully came over to sit in the chair that Troy had vacated. "Awful quiet without you around, you know.''
If anyone but Tully had made the statement, Moffitt would have thought that it was a thinly veiled jab at his tendency to ramble on more than was sometimes needed. Instead, coming from Tully, it was simply just the truth.
That made Moffitt smile again. "It's good to be missed. Whatever the reason.''
"Yeah.'' Tully settled back and looked at Moffitt, willing to acknowledge head on what Troy had been reluctant to mention. "I'm real sorry about Dr. Knight."
"Damned shame,'' Moffitt said, repeating Troy's earlier sentiment because he found that he had no words of his own that could describe everything that had occurred.
"Yep.''
Moffitt let out a deep breath.
Tully raised an eyebrow.
Leaning back against his pillow, Moffitt thought of again of everything that had happened and what he knew that the others did not. "I should have never have trusted her, Tully. All the signs were there. But I chose not to see them until it was almost too late.''
"The way I see it, trusting her was the only thing that you could do. Just like trusting you was the only thing that we could all do.''
Once again, if it hadn't been Tully, Moffitt might have questioned the true meaning behind the statement. But as it was Tully, Moffitt merely nodded.
Silence fell. Tully sucked on a matchstick and Moffitt brooded.
"You okay?'' Tully asked, finally.
"Yes, I think so. I will be, at least. This particular situation has left me with more than a few regrets, I'm afraid.''
Tully nodded. ''It's hard when folks that you know die.''
"You're right, Tully,'' Moffitt acknowledged, though MJ's death was certainly not his only regret. "And I think that it's worse when you find, that in the end, you really didn't know anything at all.''
"Huh?'' Tully looked at Moffitt with interest. "You still talking about Dr. Knight?''
"So many things were not as we thought, Tully. Not about any of this. Certainly not about MJ Knight. And I can't help to think that there was even more to it. And now, we'll never know.''
Tully raised his hand, stopping any further elaboration from Moffitt. "Not much use to dwell on that now. You don't always need to know everything. There's no harm in remembering things, or folks, to be a little bit better than they might actually have been, is there?''
Moffitt was dumbfounded for a moment at Tully's simple wisdom. "I hope Tully, that one day, someone finds me worthy of that same courtesy.''
Tully examined his matchstick and then met Moffitt's eyes. "I don't think that you're going to have to worry about that at all.''