FACT CHECK ALERT: I have been informed that Hirohito is the name of the late emperor of Japan ONLY. I looked it up, and The people's Sgt is correct - not that I ever doubted it or anything! I did look up the name of the head bad dude on this episode, and I think it's Sakuchi. Guess I should've done that before I wrote this thing, huh (wink, wink)? Just wanted you to know! Keep me on my toes, folks :-)

But, Boyington didn't have time to do a thing.

The minute Hirohito hit the ground, the little creep Min was in there, waving his rifle at everyone and yelling in a language they couldn't understand.

Three guards pulled Abby off Hirohito, and he was helped to his feet by his minions, brushing at his rumpled uniform as he steadied himself.

The soldiers held her firmly, but it didn't keep her from trying. She struggled in their grasp, but they didn't ease up.

Abby had never felt so helpless in her life.

Breathing heavily, she took a moment to glance around the room now that her eyes had adjusted. There were more soldiers with guns in here, so obviously, the pilots could do nothing when she attacked Hirohito.

Great job, Reilly. All you did was piss him off. She blew a strand of hair out of her face, still trying to pull her wrists out of their grasp. Although they might win, she sure wasn't going to go passively into the night.

"Captain Reilly." Hirohito had lost all amusement in his tone. Abby stopped struggling and looked at him. She knew that tone. She'd heard it from her father many times.

Hirohito put his finger underneath his chin to get a look at her, although she tried to snap her head away from him. "Reilly, Reilly, Reilly – ah! I remember now! Your father is Admiral Marvin Reilly, currently stationed on the USS Vanderbilt, isn't he? I heard he had a daughter stationed somewhere in the Pacific."

Abby paled. "What do you know about my father?"

"Don't worry, my dear, he's small potatoes, as you American's say." He moved closer, brushing the same strand of hair off her forehead as she watched warily, still firmly held by the guards. "But, I think we could use this little gift. Admiral Reilly just might turn over some highly sought-after property to us in exchange for his daughter. Unharmed or harmed."

Min leered at her from over his boss's shoulder. He knew what Hirohito was suggesting.

And that was just what Abby was afraid of.

Every nerve in Bobby's body was taunt, waiting. Mentally, he was wondering how many of these guys he could take out before he was taken out himself.

Gutterman kept whispering from nearby that he needed to calm down, and at first, it was working. He couldn't take everyone in this room. Even with all of them fighting, they still couldn't take them.

But, when that Hirohito creep started making suggestive threats towards her, something inside him snapped.

He lunged.

One of the guards shouted, and before Bobby knew what happened, he was face down on the floor, two guys on top of him.

Didn't stop him from fighting, though.

Abby saw him out the corner of her eyes, saw one of the Japanese catch him upside the head with his rifle. He went down fighting and was dragged to his feet.

Hirohito barked orders, and she heard several rifles cock.

"No!" she yelled. Immediately her head yanked back by her hair to silence her.

Hirohito glanced at her as her eyes pled with him.

"Please, just leave him alone! I . . . won't fight anymore. I swear!"

Hirohito glanced at Bobby, his barely controlled rage not even thwarted by the blow to the head, then back at her.

His face broke into a smile. "I see, Captain, I see. We won't hurt him. Yet. Lieutenant?"

It took Bobby a moment to realize Hirohito was addressing him, so intent was he on Abby. "What?" he said in a clipped voice.

"You make one more move like that, and you're dead. No matter how much this mere woman pleads for your life. Now, sit."

For a moment, Bobby looked as if he would pounce again, and Abby held her breath.

But, he sat back down next to Gutterman, a hateful look on his face.

Hirohito returned his gaze to her and said something to the guards. The soldiers holding her let her go. She didn't realize how weak-in-the-knees she was until she almost hit the floor. All she could do was stand there unsteadily, wondering what would happen to them all.

"Captain, look after that man over there," he motioned near the door, and Abby looked. It was French, his head in his hands and what looked like an extremely nasty blow to his forehead.

"What about the doctor?" She motioned towards Dr. Reese who had struggled to a sitting position, a glazed expression on his face.

"Take the bullet out. Wrap him up."

"Take the . . . I can't do that here! It's not sterile, and there's no equipment and . . ." And I might screw it up, and he won't be able to operate ever again . . .

"We'll get equipment."

"But . . ."

Abby didn't have time to protest. After barking some more orders, Hirohito started towards the door.

Min gave her a leer before he followed.

"Major Boyington," Hirohito paused before he exited the building, "we had an agreement. That man gets treated, and you do as I say."

Abby glared at Boyington.

"I swear, I didn't think it would turn out this way," he hissed at her with a warning look from one of the guards. To Hirohito he said, "Yes, you have my word."

T.J. wanted to take them on himself, but Casey stopped him. "Look, you can't go out there. We've got to figure something out to them all, not just the ones after Abby!"

They watched helplessly as Abby was led inside, fighting all the way.

"I guess that's where the rest of them are," Casey muttered.

T.J. jumped at the sound of his voice. "Picked one helluva day to go fishing, didn't we?"

They both sat on the ground, out of sight from the guards roaming what had been their camp.

"So, now what?" T.J. asked.

"We heard what that Japanese major said. They're after McArthur. McArthur, of all people!"

"Can we even do anything? We're way outnumbered here," T.J. mumbled.

"Someone's got to get to a plane and put out a mayday."

"You know if they have this sort of ground coverage, they have air coverage, too. They'll shoot us down before we get far!"

Casey was intense. "It's the only thing we got. Listen, you do some sort of diversion, while I sprint across the field and . . ."

"Wait a minute! Who says you get to do the dangerous stuff? Why can't I sprint across the field to the planes?"

"Because I was the star field and track runner back home, that's why!" Casey hissed.

"Well, who says I can't run as fast as you?" T.J. wasn't going to back down.

"Fine! Let's settle this. 'Rock, Paper, Scissors.'"

"What . . . are you kidding me?"

Casey held out his hand on his fist. He was not kidding.

Shaking his head, T.J. followed suit.

And soon found himself trying to figure out what kind of diversion he could manage.

It helped when he remembered the hand grenades that were still in crates near the air field.

Abby did the best she could for French with what supplies she had in the medical bag in the jeep that one of the Japanese soldiers so thoughtfully fetched for her.

He followed her finger when she asked him to. "How're you feeling, Don?"

"I've had better days," he muttered, flinching when she dabbed at the cut with a cloth.

"Me, too," Abby muttered. "I think you just have a concussion, but there's no way to tell. Here, take these." She pushed the few aspirin that were in her bag towards him and he swallowed them down.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

She put her hands on the table in front of her when she was done, just how she was instructed to do by Hirohito. And dared to glance towards the back of the room at Bobby.

He was watching her intently, almost as if she would disappear if he took his eyes off her.

She looked away, ignoring the lump in her throat.

Abby thought maybe Hirohito forgot about making her 'operate' on Dr. Reese. She was allowed to inspect his wound and clean it up the best she could, but then she was made to sit on the floor next to him and wait.

She couldn't see Bobby from where she sat. That was probably a good thing. It was going to take some sort of divine intervention to get her out of this alive, and she needed to stay on her A-game and look for an opening. Any opening. She didn't need whatever it was she felt for Bobby, or for any of the other men in this room, to get in her way.

Easier said than done.

Her mantra kept running through her head.

I won't die here I won't die here I won't die here . . .

Hirohito strolled into the room and tossed the little knife at her feet.

Her heart sank.

She looked up at the man and his unreadable expression. "Why are you doing this? Why save this man when you're just going to kill us all, anyway?"

She wasn't the only one in the room wanting to know the answer to that question. She could feel the silence pressing around all of them.

"Maybe I just want to see how useful you can be to us," he gave her a smug smile before backing into a corner.

"Come on, Hirohito!" Boyington spoke up. "There's no need in this. She's not a surgeon. Just leave her alone and do whatever it is you came to do."

Hirohito didn't acknowledge Boyington even spoke, and Abby's heart sank even further.

She stared at the little knife sitting on the filthy floor. "I . . . I'll need something to use for an antiseptic."

With a short bark, she soon had two bottles of scotch in front of her.

Panic almost seized her then. She had to do this, whether she wanted to or not. If Hirohito liked what he saw, he'd keep her hostage for God knows how long. If she did a poor job, Dr. Reese could lose his arm. Or his life. And they could still kill her.

With a far steadier hand than she felt, she reached for the knife to sterilize it.

Maybe she could use it against these cretins . . .

"Oh, my dear, I should mention something," Hirohito's voice cut through her thoughts. He said something in Japanese, and before she knew what was happening, they had Bobby, two rifles pointed at his head.

Boyington was on his feet instantly.

"Sit down, Major," Hirohito ordered.

After a moment, Boyington complied.

"It's all up to Captain Reilly."

Abby jerked her eyes away from Bobby's.

"Captain Reilly, if you make one false move with that knife, the Lieutenant here will be shot. And his blood will be on your hands. Understood?"

Abby nodded once, clenching the knife in her hand.

"He's not serious, is he, Abby?" Dr. Reese asked weakly as she positioned him on the filthy floor.

"'Fraid so. Now, just lie back here, and let's see about this." She tried to sound confident. Nothing worse than a nervous surgeon.

Abby got him settled, feeling all eyes on her. She tore what was left of his bloody uniform away to expose the wound. It already had angry streaks of red spiraling along the skin. Great. Infection.

"Now, this might sting a little." She poured a liberal amount of scotch on the open wound, wishing like hell she had something better to use. He jumped, but didn't make a noise.

Next, she pressed along it with her fingers, trying her best to focus on what she had to do. She thought she felt something hard just beneath the surface and squinted at the wound to see through the blood.

Dr. Reese jumped when she squeezed too hard, and she removed her hands. "Sorry."

"Dammit, I'm sorry. I know I can't move, but it hurt like hell," he rasped. "Is it bad?"

"Looks routine. Except for the fact we're surrounded by Japanese with guns, and all I have to use is this little knife."

He shut his eyes and tried to relax. "Just get it over with."

"Here. Drink some of this." Abby helped him hold his head up and allowed him several liberal swallows from the bottle. Anything to help him through how bad this would be.

Abby stared at the knife in her hand after dousing it and her hands, too, with the booze. She glanced at his wound, then back at the knife.

"I'm going to have to have help holding him down."

Reese shuttered at the thought, but kept his eyes shut.

Hirohito nodded, then pointed at Jerry and Gutterman. "You two."

Glad to have something to do but watch their lives end around them, they both did as they were told.

"OK, guys, one of you hold each shoulder, but easy! Don't get close to the wound." The reek of scotch was going to make her sick as it wafted around them.

Uncertain with her own abilities, she wanted to turn back and look at Bobby just once. But, she could feel his eyes on her back.

I will not die here I will not die here I will not die here . . .

"You'll do fine," Gutterman whispered. "You're all he's got."

She didn't know if he meant Dr. Reese or Bobby. For a moment, tears blinded her vision.

But, only for a moment. Squaring her jaw and wiping the sweat from her forehead with her arm, she got down to business.