"Arab attack?" Hitch whispered across the floor.
"Those were German rifles." Troy answered. He carefully eased himself to his knees, and back onto his haunches. He cocked his head and froze.
"Those halftracks are a long ways away by now."
Hitch began tearing at the ropes around his wrists. He soon gave that up, and began scraping it savagely on the edge of the seat above him. After a moment, Troy heard a loud snap. Hitch was sitting up, rubbing his wrists, shedding the frayed cord. Worming over, he began untying his sergeant.
"Careful," Troy hissed, "we don't know how many there are-" a deep voice cut through the shoddy canvas flap.
"Sergeant Troy, if you would be so kind as to step out of the truck."
Hitch started and looked up at Troy in confusion.
"Maybe Dietrich doesn't want to wait for dawn, Sarge."
"Sam! Come out, it's alright. Are the lads with you?" Hitch and Troy shouted in unison,
"Moffitt!!" In a flash, they were out of the truck and rushing at Moffitt.
"Geez, Doc, where ya been? I was beginning to think we'd never see ya again!"
"Thinking, or hoping?" Moffitt smiled. It turned quickly into a frown. "Where's Tully?"
"Here, Sarge." The Kentuckian slipped weakly out of the truck to the ground, his knees buckled and he grabbed at the frame for support. Hitch's bandage job was all but gone, and the bleeding had started again; spilling down his neck.
Shoving the rifle into Hitch's hands, Moffitt bolted at the truck, close on Troy's heels; taking Tully by the arm, and doing a quick scan for injuries. Troy hastily untied the private's hands.
"The cut must've reopened when we hit the dirt."
Tully's thick lashes fluttered. His eyes traveled up Moffitt's arm and tried to focus on Moffitt's face.
"Doc?"
"Don't talk, it's okay. I'm back and we're going get out of here. Rest easy." Soothed by the voice of his sergeant, Tully closed his eyes. His breathing still came in ragged stretches.
"A bandage won't be enough. He'll need stitches."
Dietrich came as close as Hitch would allow, observing. Something inside seemed to compel him, and he spoke up.
"Under the passenger seat, sergeant. A kit with sulfa and bandages. It is not hard to find." Troy stared at him, and nodded his thanks.
"Alright. Jack, you can fix him up before we head out."
"It's no use, Troy. I can't do it."
"Why not?" In answer, Moffitt held up his hand. It trembled like a leaf in the cold night wind.
With Hitch re-bandaging Tully's cut, and Moffitt offering critique, the job was wrapped up in minutes. None were happy, with situation, but it would have to be enough for now.
Dietrich stood by, patiently. Keeping a wary eye on Troy's gun, and another on the medical kit lying on the ground. He watched Hitch repacking the contents, almost hungrily. Troy noticed.
"Hitch. Bring me the medkit." The blond did as he was told, eyeing first his sergeant, then the captain. Dietrich's carefully schooled expression betrayed nothing.
Troy took the kit and offered it.
"Go take care of your man, Captain." Dietrich accepted it graciously, allowing a curt nod of thanks; but his eyes were far more grateful.
Troy turned to his men, reunited. Hitch stood at his side. Moffitt hovered close to Tully, who was sitting up; leaning against a rock. He decided it was time for answers.
"Alright, Doctor. Your back, now how about some details. Why'd you go silent last night? What happened to you?"
"I can answer those questions with one name. Abu Al-Fazil." Troy was getting a little tired of that name.
"Abu? Where does he figure into this?"
"He was my contact. He claimed to have valuable information, and G2 scheduled a relay. Abu insisted it take place in this pass." His hand began pulling at his already open collar.
"When i got here, he was waiting for me We began talking, until..." he put his hand to his temple. "I heard someone behind me... and they got me from behind. Before I had a prayer to react."
"Were you bleeding? There was blood all over the jeep, and on your ascot too." Moffitt shook his head.
"Must've brought their own. I checked myself when I woke up."
"So where were you?"
"They stowed me in one of those caves." He made a general gesture further into the canyon." Hitch snapped his fingers.
"Oh, I get it. He planned on using you to stiff-arm the Germans into upping the bounty?"
"Yes Hitch, something like that." Troy interrupted,
"Did you hear us when we got here?"
"I couldn't. I only woke up about an hour ago."
"An hour?! You've been radio-silent since last night. How hard were you hit?" Troy asked suspiciously.
"It's not that, Troy. This is why." He reached clumsily into his pocket and pulled out an empty phial. Troy took it and studied it carefully in the silver white moonlight.
"He nearly killed me with a dose of morphine to keep me quiet." Troy gaped at his second. "I'm lucky to be standing here."
Hitch jumped in,
"You'll be okay? Right, Doc?" Moffitt pulled his collar again, and tried to clear his throat.
"I'll be fine. Just need some time for the morphine to work out of my system." He cleared his throat again. "Breathing is a little harder." Moffitt shivered visibly.
"Comforting." Troy commented drily.
"Hey, come to think of it, where is Abu?" Hitch asked the open air.
"Not far enough to suit me, wherever he is." Tully remarked.
"It doesn't matter," Troy cut in, "we need to get out of here before those halftracks turn around, or we're sunk. Will your friends be able to keep the Germans busy?"
He said the last bit to Moffitt. To which the Brit only replied,
"What friends."
"The ones who were attacking earlier, the ones who-" he broke off when the full meaning of the rhetorical question dawned. Hitch gaped. The only sounds were sand wisps on the ground.
"You came in alone??" Tully was indignant.
"Wasn't much of a choice." The Brit shrugged.
"It was a brilliant maneuver, sergeant, i must admit." Dietrich stopped next to Troy. "The echoes worked perfectly. Sergeant Troy, I think you should take this. It is a long drive back to your lines." He proffered the metal kit, the Red Cross glinted in the bright moonlight.
"Thank you, Captain. I'm sure the Major will return for you soon, which is why we need to move."
"The truck has more than enough petrol to reach your lines, and there is a can of water up front, under the seats." Troy paused and fully faced the German.
"You're feeling very helpful. Why, Captain?"
"Perhaps I want the credit for your death for myself, not Major Jäger." Troy wore a perceptive smile
"Perhaps." He echoed. "A'ight, let's shake it." And turned to leave.
Tully was standing without help, that was a relief. Moffitt hovered at his side, despite his own weakness. Hitch watched Dietrich's every move like a cougar, ready to strike. At his signal, they moved to the transport truck.
A strangled cry cut through the night.
"Hauptmann!! Handgranate!!!"