'Almeida' he answered the ringing phone, rubbing himself dry after his shower. He had returned from patrolling a largely uninhabited piece of desert an hour ago, and still hadn't managed to wash all the sand out of his hair. It had to have something weird in it, he decided, it stuck to his scalp and had to be literally scratched off. He gazed at his fingernails, not surprised to see them all caked with the same coarse sand.

'Lieutenant Almeida, you have a visitor. A civilian. He's waiting for you at the main gate.'

'What's his name?' Tony inquired, unaware of any acquaintance in the country.

'He won't say – he says it's a surprise. He's American.'

Intrigued, he dressed and hurried to the gate. A familiar grin met him. 'John' he cried, surprised, shaking his hand. 'What are you doing out here? I'd have thought you'd be watching the US Open now.'

John shook his head with a semi-exasperated expression. 'You can't get it straight, can you, Tony? It starts next week!'

Tony cleared him through security and got him a visitor's pass. He took John to the officers' mess hall and they settled at a table near an open window. 'What will you have?'

'Not orange juice,' John replied, with feeling. 'I've spent three days waiting for you to return, Tony.'

Tony grinned. 'A Lemonade, then!' He laughed at his friend's expression and ordered two whiskeys. 'You haven't answered my letters or emails for nearly two years, and now you just show up! How did you know I'd even be here?'

'I asked' John said, mysteriously. They sipped their drinks in silence, each taking in the other. 'You got promoted?'

'Yeah, I'm a first lieutenant now' Tony replied. 'They liked some stuff I did.' He regarded his old friend carefully. 'So what's new with you?'

'I moved back to L.A. two years ago now. I figured it was time to start something of my own. Tony, I opened a tennis school! It's already fully booked. Good business, ah?'

'It's great,' he answered, smiling. 'Any girl friend on the horizon?'

'I'm engaged, Tony. That's what I came to talk to you about. You deserve to be the first to know.'

Tony stared at him amazed. 'Congratulations, I guess, but don't you have dozens of other friends to celebrate with?'

John swirled the drink round his glass. 'Yep, but they don't really know her. She's got thick brown hair, brown eyes, and she can play tennis reasonably well. She's cool, she makes me laugh, and……… you know her.'

Tony searched his brains, unable to remember John going out with any brown haired girls. As far as he could remember his friend had preferred blondes, though none of his relationships had lasted long. He shook his head. 'I must have had too much sun, John. I don't remember any dark haired girl.'

Once again John swirled his drink around. 'We met again at the tennis courts, after I moved back. You really can't guess, can you?'

Tony shook his head, perplexed.

'Your sister, Anna,' John said nervously.

'What?' Tony gasped. 'She's just a kid.'

'She's twenty-one now, she's finished college, and we've been seeing each other for two years. Why do you think I settled back in L.A.? Tony, don't look at me like that, she likes me too.'

Tony got up. 'Let's go for a walk' he said, needing a little space to think. They left the mess hall and wandered outside. 'I know she always liked you, but – it wouldn't work out. Jane married one of our classmates and I don't think she's all that happy.' He paced back and forth briskly, whilst John leaned against the building and watched him.

'I know you hate him,' John finally spoke again, 'but I'm not Robert, Tony. We've always been friends. Have I ever insulted you? Have I ever got you into trouble?' Tony paused to stare at him in amazement. 'Well, ok, so I did, but you were also responsible for loads of my detentions. We're friends, right? Hell, I gave Anna her first tennis lessons when we were in school, remember?'

Tony nodded grimly. 'I do. John, I want her to stay the way she is now, carefree. I've seen Jane change, she doesn't really smile anymore.' He slammed his fist into the wall beside his friend. 'If that bastard ever makes her unhappy, I'll put a bullet through his brain!'

'You sure you should be telling me this?' John asked, grinning nervously. 'Coz I am going to marry Anna, and well, married couples do argue, occasionally.'

Tony turned to face him, letting out a deep breath. 'You won't change your mind, will you?' John shook his head. 'Oh well, I guess I should say "congratulations". You guys spoken to my parents yet?'

John shook his head. 'I wanted to tell you first. Tony, I'm heading home tomorrow. Wish me luck.'

He clasped John's shoulder. 'Come inside and let's celebrate.' They returned to the mess hall, and Tony ordered another round of drinks, as well as dinner. During their meal John entertained him with stories of tournaments all round the world.

'I ran into Dennis at Wimbledon, I mean, in London, during Wimbledon,' John told him. 'You know he inherited everything from his father. He's based there now.'

'Good,' Tony replied. 'That's about the right distance between us! You know who I ran into last year at home?' He related his comments to their headmaster, causing his friend to choke on his dinner. It felt good to laugh after his last few missions. He felt sad later watching John leave.

Too restless to sleep he decided to call Anna to discuss John's visit. Rita answered, delighted to hear from him. 'Hi, Tony, congratulate me quickly!'

He laughed. 'Why, what have you done?'

'I've been accepted into the Masters program. I've even got enough saved up from working in Spain last year to pay for half of it.'

'Hey, that's great,' he said, genuinely pleased to hear of her success. 'Who'll pay for the other half?' She fell silent. 'Papa will, I suppose,' he told her.

'Well, I don't think he can right now. He's still paying for Joey and Maria's schools. And there's really nothing left after he put Bobby through school. I'll be ok, I'll think of something by then.'

'Didn't Joey win a scholarship?' Tony asked, puzzled. 'He gets A's for everything, always did. How much better can anyone do?'

'I thought you knew,' Rita replied. Tony was reminded yet again of just how far he was from his family, how removed from their everyday lives. 'The headmaster wouldn't give another scholarship to our family. Mom and Papa are paying.'

Tony scratched the side of his face, running figures through his head. 'Listen, Rita, I'll pay the second half.' Rita protested vehemently, eventually agreeing to repay every cent. 'You're the best, Tony!'

He laughed, enjoying her pleasure. 'Absolutely,' he agreed. 'How is everyone else?'

'Oh, I got a secret, too,' Rita continued. 'Guess who's pregnant? Janey! We've been shopping for baby outfits yesterday. Mom's thrilled.'

'Hey, that's great,' Tony exclaimed. 'It's been too long without a baby. Does she know what it will be yet?'

'Not yet,' Rita told him. 'But it better be a girl, coz I saw this most gorgeous pink outfit, and I bought it!' Tony laughed heartily. 'Maria's already bought her a doll.'

'Well, if not for this baby, then for the next,' Tony said cheerfully. He longed to see them all again. 'How are the boys?'

Presently he hung up, returning to his room. He had to get another trip home, and soon! The next morning, after handing in a report, he went shopping, to the same modern mall he'd taken his mother to. He selected several gifts for the baby, placing them in his suitcase. He was going to be an uncle!

Anderson summoned him into his office for his next mission briefing the following afternoon. Tony was given another desert patrol, a boring several days but usually peaceful enough. He was relieved to be spared yet another covert mission.

It took the entire day to drive there. In the evening they pitched their tents in the shelter of a large sand dune. Dinner was prepared and warmed on a gas cooker. Tony settled into his tent after he'd assigned someone to clean up, and read a few chapters of a novel his mother had left. He could hear his men playing ball outside. After while he became more absorbed in his novel, and when he next went outside the sight paused him in his tracks. His men had climbed the top of the sand dune and were taking it in turns to slide down on a body board! Judging by the amount of laughter, it was an incredible ride. Tony momentarily regretted being their C.O. – he would have enjoyed trying it himself. He assigned a few of them to sentry duty and returned to his tent, gazing again at the stars through the mosquito netting. The night was calm and still, refreshingly cool after the heat of the day. He really didn't feel tired at all. A walk might use up some of his remaining energy, he reflected.

He pulled his boots on and left the tent, telling the sentry he was going for a short walk. Peters stared at him in amazement. 'Don't worry, I won't get lost,' Tony told him, amused, and set off, heading towards the largest sand dune in the area. It might be interesting to see how large it was up close, he reflected, and anyway, there was no better landmark anywhere in sight. He walked into the breeze, senses fully alert, rifle in his belt. His mind replayed the phone call with Rita, and John's visit. Once Anna got married the house would really start getting quiet. He sighed softly. Who would remain by the time he left the army? Only Joey and Maria, he supposed.

Without being aware of it, he had arrived at the sand dune. It was about twice as high as the surrounding ones, towering far above him. There would be an incredible view from the top. Was it worth the trouble of such a climb? Was he tired yet? No, he wasn't, so he would attempt it. He set off along the side facing the tents, his boots digging into the sand as he climbed. Occasionally the breeze lifted bits of loose surface sand he had disturbed and swirled it about him. Hopefully he wouldn't start a landslide.

Hot and sweaty, he reached the top, sinking down to get his breath back. Several minutes later he raised his head, enjoying the view. Sand stretched as far as he could see in any direction, shining in the moonlight. The road they had arrived on snaked between some dunes to his right. In the distance was his own tent, obscured by shadow. Peters would be wandering what had happened to him by now. Tony knew he should start heading back, but the climb had tired him, he really needed a few more quiet minutes. He imagined describing the scene in his next letter home.

Distant lights caught his eyes, winding along the road. Was it a car or a truck, he wandered, and where could it be heading this late? He strained his eyes, cursing himself for having left his binoculars behind. Definitely a military transport of their own, he decided, watching it speed along the road. A flash distracted him. Seconds later the vehicle exploded, burning in the darkness. Flames lit the sky. Shadows moved inside them. Tony leapt to his feet, racing down the opposite side of the dune, towards the vehicle. He slipped, tumbling down several yards before he could pause long enough to get to his feet.

The military transport burned fiercely as he approached it at a run. A few soldiers lay outside the flames, severely burned, beside a few blown up bodies. Tony fought down his nausea and attempted to reach the front of the vehicle, to get to the radio. His efforts were in vain, the radio was a charred ruin. Faint screams reached his ears, through the crackling fire. A shudder rushed through him. Someone was trapped inside the back, burning. Tony scooped sand inside the engine, hoping to prevent any further explosions, then removed his jacket and pushed his way through the flames. A body lay under a seat, a bit of roof on its chest. Its arm moved. He pushed off the wreckage, hauling the person out behind him. He rolled in the sand to put out the fires on his own uniform before turning his attention to the injured man beside him.

'Where did you put your first aid kit?' he questioned urgently, seeing the agony of the survivors around him.

The man blinked several times. Tony poured a little of his water onto his face, hoping to revive him long enough to get a coherent answer. 'Come on, where's your first aid kit?' he demanded.

'In the cab, under the driver's seat,' choked the man. Tony nodded and hurried back to the vehicle, poking through the scorched twisted ruins for the box. It should have survived the blast, he thought. Hearing the moans from outside forced him to hurry. Eventually his hand closed upon what felt like a box shape, trapped beneath twisted metal. Tony pulled with all his strength, lifting the seat enough to dislodge the box. He jumped to the ground, bending down to his first patient. He forced the kit open, searching for burn cream or spray. He sprayed the man's injuries, wrapping the wound with gauze, before heading to the next man. 'Careful with the gauze, Almeida,' he told himself, 'there's not as much as you need.' Seeing "his" patients' agony, he located the morphine, read the instructions by the fire, and filled the syringe, breaking open a packet of needles.

Tony's hands shook as he bent towards the man he had pulled from the fire. 'Go on, give me a shot,' the man ordered him. Still he hesitated, not wishing to cause unnecessary pain. 'On the double, lieutenant,' ordered the man. Tony administered the morphine, changed the needle, and headed to the other men.

'Lieutenant, it is imperative that you locate our attackers,' ordered the injured captain. 'We've been tracking them for days.'

'Well sir, it looks like they're heading this way,' Tony told him, seeing lights in the distance. 'They're coming to finish you off. I'll take them out, before they get here.' The injured men were too weak to be moved, he would have to eliminate their attackers before they could arrive to complete their job. He hurried along the road, sheltering behind a knee high bush. Carefully he knelt on the ground, sighting his primary target, the driver, and pulled the trigger. Seconds later he took out the man beside him, shooting through glass, before firing a volley of shots at the back of the vehicle. The vehicle ran off the road, overturning. Tony approached it cautiously, crawling forward. He had no idea how many men had sat in the back, or what kind of weapons they had. Certainly they were equipped with grenades. A shot fired from the car. Instantly he fired a salvo of shots into that exact location, and surrounding areas. All fell silent. He crept up to the door, making certain all inside were dead.

'I got them, sir' he reported to the injured captain, checking the men. 'Sir, I'm going to need to find my own men and radio base to send a chopper for you. I'll be back within the hour. Some of your weapons are damaged; I got you theirs.' He handed over the weapons he had stripped from the dead hostiles.

The captain nodded his permission, and Tony sped away along the road. 'Who were these soldiers?' he wandered. 'What were they doing over the border? Why hadn't he been notified of their presence? Another undercover operation,' he concluded.

Fortunately he saw Koskinen driving their armored personnel carrier before he had been gone more than ten minutes. Tony waved him down, climbing inside. He briefed the sergeant on what had taken place; enjoying the looks of admiration his men cast him. He radioed base, asking for an evacuation of the injured, giving the exact location.

'Sir, if you'd let me see your hands,' Koskinen told him, once they had arrived. Tony stared at his own injuries which were only now beginning to sting – the slight burns he had received and the cuts from fumbling in the cab's wreckage. He held them out, watching Koskinen spray a little burn cream on them and clean up a cut. 'I'd let the medics take a look at them,' the sergeant told him.

The helicopter landed, whipping up an entire cloud of sand, covering the injured. The door was thrown open and a colonel leapt out, followed by several medics. 'Where's the captain?' he demanded of Tony. Tony led him towards the captain and withdrew, allowing them to debrief. He watched the medics work on the soldiers instead. Soon they were laid on stretchers and loaded into the helicopter. The officers still spoke in urgent whispers, so he felt less guilty showing his own small injuries to a medic.

He was given a shot for the pain; had his cut cleaned out properly, more cream applied, and gauze wrapped securely round them. 'Avoid water,' the medic told him. 'Keep them clean – call us if the pain gets worse. Otherwise you should be able to remain here.'

'I must remain here,' Tony said, firmly. 'I won't abandon my men!'

'Now, one last thing, I'll just give you a tetanus booster to be safe, and you're done,' the medic told him, opening up his box. Tony shook his head firmly, insisting he was well up with ALL his shots, but the medic told him if he refused he would have to return to base right away, and have one there. He gave up, turning away to avoid watching the needle.

Back at the base Tony was summoned to see the general. He dressed as neatly as he could and waited outside with a rapid heartbeat. Had the general been impressed or annoyed by his rescue? Should he have left the injured and hunted down their attackers sooner? Fortunately the general proved to be impressed. Tony was given a citation for bravery, and told he would receive a medal within the next few weeks, at a short ceremony. He left the office with a huge grin he was unable to hide.

He never did receive the medal, however, as his actions next week were not met with the same approval. Tony sighed, regretting not having received the medal. It would have been something to show off to his family. Fortunately he had forced himself to wait till he received it before he let them know about it, otherwise Marco would feel guilty, and the kidnapping wasn't his fault.

Marco and Bobby were both currently serving in the Gulf. He prayed for their safety, remembering Marco's condition when he finally located him.

He turned over in bed, sickened by the memory that emerged from the furthest recess of his mind. Now he would be unable to sleep, that was certain!