August 20, 1952
The 4077th, Korea to Boston

Dearest Trapper,

Now that the unusual attacks here have ceased and we're back to normal, things have been quieter, even here in the Swamp. We've had days and days of endless fighting near and in the camp (even the Chinese and North Koreans were here a few times), rain and wind, more and more wounded soldiers and even supplies that always ran out (the gloves have finally come in today, by the way). Finally, after days and days of locals fighting, battles coming closer and closer, the peace talks starting and stopping again and again and victories being recorded (Hill 122 has been taken by the Marines finally), we have some quiet here at the 4077th. Save for the visit from Colonel Flagg, we've been a happier unit altogether.

There is always more good news, save for Colonel Flagg (naturally). Colonel Coner has been recalled to Seoul to answer for his actions, we didn't have to bug out of here a few days ago and we didn't lose a person in the unit, save for a few men from the 43rd. Dean is in charge of his men for the time being and they're still here, safe and sound. Rosie's Bar is back up as well and you know where they are!

I did say that Colonel Flagg was here, right? Well, he came here especially for me. His face had been redone perfectly well because of his meeting with the pavement a few months previously (reconstruction surgery, although fairly new, does a lot of wonders sometimes). His legs were not quite healed, so he limped a lot and he did not bother to have crutches to carry himself more properly. He came into camp without permission anyway, walking here and there and even everywhere. All the while, his main hiding spot turned out to be in a trashcan, the perfect position for seeing everything in the camp.

Other interesting things went on while our lovely colonel was here too and it didn't even have to involve me. More on that in a later letter though. However, what I can say is that the best parts were always the funniest. After Flagg was tricked by Charles into thinking that there was a secret meeting in the Swamp (where the chief of police and mayor of Uijongbu were playing poker with Colonel Potter and company), he also met up with me before he left the camp. And what an interesting offer he had to give to me and I knew about it before he could tell me!

I passed Flagg while he was sitting in Radar's space. I had walked into Post-Op on my free time, asking BJ about some of Dean's men and how they were doing before going to lunch, so exited using that office space. However, seeing randomly Flagg there, fiddling with the PA system and the newly-fixed phone, all in thanks to Sergeant Rizzo and Klinger (a whiz at electric things when he put his fingers on it and not his skirts), startled me. I nearly jumped up a mile when I saw him there, trying and expecting to find strange wires and microphones.

"I guess being a CIA agent has its quirks," I said out loud, trying to get his attention. "You always think that somebody is watching and listening to you."

"No, no, Iréne, but that is something the FBI does, not us. J. Edgar Hoover has made enemies that way." Flagg turned to face me. "They need support, as much as they can. The CIA does not."

"Yes, yes, I know. And you're not doing me a favor me being here. Now, what do you want?" I tapped my foot in impatience and crossed my arms diagonally my chest.

"I have an offer for you, Iréne."

"So?"

"I believe you would like this offer. It's something you cannot refuse."

"That much is certain, Colonel. Now, are you going to offer me a position in the United States or what? I've been in this hellhole for two years now and have yet to see an ending to the Korean conflict or to the Army career I am aiming to finalize. When can I go home, if not at the end of the war? Or do you have as much power as you think you do?"

Flagg, for the first time ever that I'd known him, looked surprised and was even shocked that I knew the nature of his visit to me (other than thinking Hawkeye was playing footsie with the enemy and fooling around with Charles). Apparently, he doesn't know that I have spies of my own in Seoul, Pusan, Tokyo and elsewhere and that they used to work for me in West Germany, transferred here on Flagg's sudden whim at the beginning of the war. I knew that it was to wipe them out before anything else happens to his career. Most of them are already dead, much to my regret, and some have been considered insane and locked away in institutions. However, the remaining company left to my devices, four out of the fifteen people I've worked with, is small, but alive and safe.

I continued, regardless of Flagg's reactions. "Flagg, I know that you've been trying to keep me in the Army for the rest of my life and keep me under your thumb. It's beyond your jurisdiction now, according to the new head of the CIA, General Walter Bedell Smith. You can offer me deals all you want, even give my daughter back to me before the war's end so that I can feel more complete, but you can't make me do what you want anymore. I know your game well. General Smith does as well. He has graciously written to me and has upheld your last decision to keep me here in Korea until the war ends, but he also, with others signing the paperwork, has granted me permanent leave of the United States Army when it does finish up here. He gave me the playing card I needed to get out of the Army."

Flagg was about to say something and decided not to. He seemed too enthralled with what I had to say. I would have assumed that the shock had not worn off yet. However, one never knew with the infamous Colonel Flagg.

"Besides that, I'm also free to come and go as I please, Colonel," I declared, feeling liberated as I spoke." I'm a free woman now. I am not a security risk to the United States anymore since I have been proven to be a loyal citizen of the country. I've been cleared of everything that I had done in West Germany, even of your imaginary charges. I can even go to Tokyo without an escort and not be watched constantly, as you like to do."

"General Smith has –" Flagg started.

"No, Colonel, General Smith himself will not speak with you." I almost laughed to see Flagg's face turn red with anger, which was strange for him because he keeps a poker face usually. "He is currently not seeing any visitors or having any meetings, but is busy campaigning, and supporting quietly, as it were, for the Republican candidate for President, the former General Dwight D. Eisenhower. I can't even bother him anymore. I think I've pushed my limits far enough with my letters."

"You can't get away with this," the colonel finally spat out after recovering from his shock, a stoic face back on. It was the mask of a spy and one I knew very well.

"Yes, I can, Flagg," I announced. "I took charge of my own life after my daughter was born. I got tired of her being bounced from one home to the next and that I might not have had a way to see her again. I wanted to ensure that I took charge of her when I come out…as a free woman. Sadly though, she's still in your hands and her custody battle will wage until the father has been proven. You know I'll be working harder to change it permanently, just so that she's in safer hands when I go home."

Flagg grinned. "It's my last gift to you, Iréne. I have yet to show you what's in my sleeve for your daughter."

"I think I can figure it soon enough." I uncrossed my arms, suddenly worried and knowing that it wasn't going to show.

"Not this time. You won't figure this one out until it's too late, Iréne. And when you do, you will find out how much it will cost you and that new little lover of yours."

"You don't scare me, Flagg. You never have."

"I doubt that, Iréne. I have yet to meet a person brave enough to face me."

"You wanna bet?"

"I won't. However, I know this much is true. You are scared, you little harpy. You have too much of a mother's soft touch."

I'll admit it, Trapper, although I was showing a courageous face. Inwardly, I was shaking to the core, worried about my daughter and Hawkeye still and wondering what Flagg wanted to do with them. If he wanted to kill Shannon (or even Hawkeye), he wouldn't have the chance. He'll be a dead man if he tried though, one that I wouldn't even manage to get to. Not to mention, the charges he'll have from the CIA alone wouldn't make him a free man.

"Someday, I will get to you and that won't be pretty." Flagg stood up to face me, a reply on my lips and never to be said.

"I doubt it, but we'll see, Flagg." I shook my head instead, hoping that my thoughts about him being a heartless bastard would never be heard from me. "Now, Colonel, if you would please excuse me, I have some business to attend to. It is called lunch, you see, and I would like to have something that would make my stomach churn with twisted pain and agony. It's worse than your torture methods, you know."

So, Trapper, I turned around on my heels, leaving (hopefully) Flagg for the last time. I had an appointment in the Swamp with Hawkeye and I was running late (a date to lunch, yay). I did think about the offer that Flagg wanted to give to me that I knew about without him saying anything. It was to work with him for the rest of my life (a spy's life is usually short), be watched all the time, be the eyes for Senator McCarthy in the United States and to be with my daughter. It was bittersweet and so tempting. However, there was something wrong with it.

And you know what? It stinks of lies. I cannot live with myself for it. I'd rather be in this hellhole and wait out the end of the war for my freedom than have to have it given to me on a silver platter dripping of innocent blood. It's very tempting, Trapper, but you know that I can't do that and be true to myself. It'll be a larger hell than war-torn Korea and most certainly one for me, leaving Hawkeye and our planned life behind.

Well, Trapper, things seem to be going back to normal almost and it's pretty quiet here. BJ is out fishing with the new chopper pilot, a nice fellow named Scott Baker. Charles is in Post-Op for his shift until evening until Hawkeye and I are scheduled to be on. And there is the Swamp, still full of fleas, rats, dirty clothes and magazines, with Hawkeye in it, privacy for us at last. He's been waiting patiently for me to finish writing. He's also been sleeping until a moment ago, so I must go. A beautiful day is ahead of us, full of peace and quiet with little worries.

Trapper, I've gone from mourning Henry throughout this year and going to the Funny Farm to be Regular Army again. I've played doctor many times over (with more to come) and dealt with pain, death and disgrace. I've been made the happiest woman life, being engaged to the most wonderful man out there, and cried when another nurse married an idiot after an extremely short engagement. I've pined for my daughter and worried about her constantly, wondering when the next day will be my last and that I might never see her again. Finally, I've even finally found some love and respect for my own mother, writing to her more and more about the war and my life and not the Christian words she loved so much. Now, all I want is some peace and silence, after an eventful year so far.

That, Trapper, is the most tempting offer of all. Peace and quiet. Isn't that what anyone would ask for? It's the perfect gift of all.

Give my love to everybody, especially my daughter. Keep her safe!

With lots of love and good cheer from the Korean summer, Jeanie

Many thanks to everyone who has read the stories of Jeanie Morrison so far. There is too much credit to give to these stories so far. However, I would like to thank any reader, reviewer and even contributor to the series. Without all of you, I would be lost still.

THANK YOU!