Steve sat on the exam table as Dr. Winston thoroughly examined his right eye. This was the tenth day of his captivity, and Steve was about ready to stage an escape. He could only imagine how restless Oscar must be getting, but his boss remarkably had stayed right with him this entire last week and a half. Winston had said yesterday that he might clear Steve for travel today, and Steve was already packed and had brought his bag to the appointment with them this morning. He was ready to leave this hospital, Luke Air Force Base, and the entire state of Arizona the minute he was able. He had had enough of this.

His vision had continued to improve, and yesterday and today, he felt like his right eye was back to normal sight. In the mirror, it looked almost as usual, the redness mostly gone. The burns on his face were still visible, but they were healing. His left eye remained dead, but the tissues surrounding the eye socket there were looking much better, too.

Oscar had been trying not to let them do too much and also trying to keep Steve inside out of the bright sunlight for the last several days, but yesterday afternoon, he had finally let his friend go visit the Navion. General Hill's plane had been towed to a hanger. It sat there waiting, the remnants of the oil line break washed off the paint by some airman. Steve wondered whom it would be sold to. He felt a kind of closure seeing it again, though, climbing up into the cockpit, looking at the still broken out glass over the gauges, then stepping out to check his blind work on the propeller. It was, as Hill had said, a sweet little plane.

Winston stepped back and lowered his penlight. "Clean bill of health, Colonel," he said. "Thanks to that boy and what he did. Cleansing the eye like that, keeping the light out. You owe your sight to him."

"Yeah, I know that, doc," Steve replied.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you with that left eye, but it's a little out of my line." The doctor still had an edge of curiosity under the words. His interest in Steve's left eye in the last week and a half had been hard to keep a lid on, though he had dutifully tried.

Oscar stepped in. "Thank you, doctor. We have a specialist in mind."

"Thanks again, doc." Steve started for the door, and Oscar, with Steve's small leather suitcase, followed.

As they left the examining area and headed toward a lobby, Steve suddenly recognized Hill up ahead. The General was in a wheelchair, and Greg was seated next to him, both of them bent over a chess board. Steve looked over at Oscar. "How is he?"

"Don't know yet. It is a brain tumor. The doctors haven't determined whether it's malignant or not, but he's not waiting to use it as a cop-out."

"What do you mean?"

"Last week he resigned," Oscar said, "from the Air Force and the Senate."

Steve studied Hill. Yes, it was better that way, better to leave than to be forcibly retired, but still, he knew how hard that had been, especially when Hill had been trying to convince himself for months that he was fine. However, now that convincing himself was no longer possible, he was facing his future squarely. "That's a pretty gutty thing to do," Steve noted.

Oscar nodded. "I think so. Come on." He led the way as they approached the other two men. "Hello, Edward."

Hill looked up at his old friend. "Oscar."

Steve walked up beside them and held out his hand. "Good luck, sir."

Hill looked surprised at first. He recognized by now everything that his bullheadedness had wound up costing others, including Steve personally. "That's very kind of you, Colonel. There are men who wouldn't shake my hand."

"Well, if that's true, General, there are men who don't know you."

Hill slowly began to smile. "Thank you. I'm lucky to be alive. I thank you for that."

Steve indicated Greg. "Thank him."

Hill shook his head. "I've got the rest of my life to thank him. I may not see you again. You're a very special man. The best thing I ever did was get Oscar that six million.

"General," Steve corrected, "the best thing you ever did was raise a son."

Hill chuckled. "You're right."

Steve nodded to him, wishing him the best and letting it show, one pilot to another. "Goodbye, sir. Goodbye, Greg."

Greg reached out to shake his hand. "Goodbye, Colonel."

Oscar handed Steve his bag. "I'll catch up with you."

"All right," Steve agreed. He knew those two were old friends. As for himself, he was perfectly happy getting on out of this hospital and waiting outside.

He exited into the glorious, warm sunlight, letting himself see it, letting himself feel it. Never would he take simple sight for granted again.

"Colonel Austin?" A voice from behind him stopped him in his tracks, and he turned back to see a young airman rushing to catch up. She stopped in front of him, peering at his face. "Colonel Austin?"

"That's right." Steve was used to people recognizing him from the publicity surrounding his astronaut days.

She smiled. "I thought so. I know we've never really met exactly, but I just couldn't pass by without saying hello. Airman Denby." She saluted him.

Steve returned the salute. "Nice to meet you, Airman." Her voice rang a bell somewhere, and he scrambled to sort it out, wondering if she was just wanting to speak to a celebrity or if he had encountered her somewhere before.

"Are you all right now?" she asked, looking at his patched left eye and the healing burns.

"Yeah, I think so. Denby." The name meant nothing to him, but that voice… "Are you sure we haven't met somewhere before?"

"Well, not really. If you'll excuse me, I have to go. I have to get over to the tower." She left, and when she was several feet away, the realization struck.

"The tower? Tower!" Steve spun around. Oscar had never mentioned that air traffic controller's name from last week, but the voice sure matched. "Hey, Denby." He pursued her, catching up easily. "You were the one working the tower last week when I landed."

She nodded. "I was, sir. It was a very impressive landing."

Steve knew that it had in fact been a lousy landing technically, complete with a few bounces, but that wasn't the point right now. This woman on that afternoon had been the glue holding all of it together for him during that approach. He dropped his bag and seized her in a hug, spinning both of them around, having to remind himself not to squeeze too tightly with the right arm. "Thank you. Thank you."

She was startled at first, but her smile would have powered Phoenix when he finally put her down. "You're welcome, sir. Just doing my duty, but I - I'm glad it worked out, Colonel."

"So am I. Now, Denby, if you're heading over to the tower, I'll go along with you. I want to talk to your commanding officer about a commendation for the other day."

Side by side, the two of them headed for the tower.