Disclaimer- Do I look like a millionaire to you? No? Good coz I'm not one, which I would be if I owned these characters!

AN- Wow! You all thought that was evil? Hmmm, ok, at the end of this chapter, please remember flames are for marshmallows of which I have none. Also remember that there are at least two more chapters to go and that even I don't know for sure what's going to happen.

It was late the next morning when the commander allowed Trapper to see to Hawkeye's wounds and Trapper ran out as fast as he could. Before he reached him, he could tell Hawkeye was in a bad way. His breathing was shallow and laboured, his body was continually shaking, and his forehead was beaded with sweat.

he whispered as he started gently cleaning his back.

A small groan told him he was being heard and a few seconds later he sighed in relief as he saw familiar blue eyes open.


The voice was hoarse and weak and Trapper quickly poured some water. After he had drunk his fill Hawkeye's eyes closed again.
Thanks Trap, he whispered, before succumbing to the cool darkness of oblivion once again.

Trapper gave him a dose of morphine and prayed it was enough before continuing to patch up the numerous injuries. The whole time he anxiously scanned the horizon for any sign of a chopper that could mean help, but nothing was forthcoming.
*** *** ***

What do you mean you can't do anything? screamed Frank. This isn't just land we're talking about, there are people at that post!

Please Major calm down, we're rustling up people to go in there as fast as we can. But there's a war on, soldiers are in short supply. Now I promise you I'll let you and your people know as soon as there is anything we can do, but until we get more men I'm afraid your friends are on their own.

Frank stormed out of the Colonel's office, the picture of badly concealed anger. But inwardly he rejoiced. He had had his doubts when he had been told the details of the plan, but now he knew they were unfounded. The M*A*S*H had been invaded, the officers captured, the Allied army was at least four days away and his friends, the Korean soldiers, would soon be marching down towards Tokyo.

If Frank had known that an American battalion was already headed towards the 4077th he might not have been quite so complacent. If he had known that some of the soldiers in the battalion had been saved by the doctors at the 4077th he would have had a panic attack. But he was blissfully unaware of the fact that some of America's best were headed towards his Korean friends.

If had have known, and taken the time to think about it calmly, he would have realised he needn't worry, for the soldiers were operating outside of orders, and until they found some way of knowing how many Koreans there were, they could not risk moving in. But he didn't know, so he didn't worry, and meanwhile, more and more Koreans were marching towards the 4077th, they too unaware of the American soldiers approaching from the opposite direction.
*** *** ***

Margaret was crying. She wasn't sure how long she had been crying, her face, like the rest of her body, was numb. She thought Trapper was holding her, he had been earlier, but now she wasn't sure. All she knew was she had finally realised she was in love with Hawkeye, just to have him ripped away from her by a Korean commander.

It was raining again. She could hear the rain beating down upon the roof. If she looked up she could see the rain trickling down the window. But she didn't look up, he didn't look at anything. Her attention was focused on her memory. Men grabbing her, the commander talking, and Hawkeye jumping up, yelling that he would take her place.

She had wanted to scream at him to sit back down again, but she knew he wouldn't listen. There was a look in his eyes that she had never seen before, and she didn't dare try to interpret it. She was to afraid of what she would find it meant.

And so she sat, crying, wincing every time she thought of Hawkeye, beaten and bleeding, lying in the rain. She knew he was dying. She knew that every drop of rain that fell lowered his chances of survival. She knew she should be trying to prepare herself for the pain that would follow the gently whispered words telling her he was gone.

But she couldn't. She couldn't give up hope. Her hope was all she had. Her hope was all that was keeping her going and she refused to give it up. The stubborn part of her mind piped up and told her that giving up hope was the worst thing she could do, and she knew it was right. The Koreans had already taken Hawkeye, she owed it to him not to give them the hope he had suffered to give her.
*** *** ***

Trapper was working as fast as he could. The commander had allowed him to go back out to Hawkeye, and he was relieved to see his friend seemed slightly better.



Easy Hawk. I think you're getting better, but I can't be sure, you got soaked again last night.

Get away.

I can't get away... Trapper was interrupted before he could carry on.

Hawkeye said, as firmly as he could. I'll get away and get help.

How can you get away? Trapper asked, remembering to whisper, but his disbelief was still clear. A grin crept slowly on to Hawkeye's face, hampered by a fresh wave of pain that forced his mouth in to a grimace.

Would you believe I have a plan?
*** *** ***

All eyes were upon him as he walked back. He swallowed against the fear he felt welling in his stomach. If he didn't pull it off he could say good-bye to his life as well as Hawkeye's. Refusing to look at the guards by the door, he strode directly up to the commander.
I want a shovel.

The Korean looked up with amusement in his eyes.
Are you making a demand?

Trapper forced himself to return the commander's stare.
Hawkeye is dead. Behind him someone gasped and he could feel the shock of his friends, but he carried on, focusing on the look in Hawkeye's eyes when he had last spoken to him.

I'd like to take him to the edge of the woods to bury him, decently.
One of the commander's eyebrows rose in a sardonic look, but he turned to one of the guards and said something in Korean. Then he turned back to face Trapper.

Very well, take your shovel and your friend, and go. With that he turned back to the paper he had been studying, effectively dismissing Trapper and the death of Hawkeye.

A few minutes later saw Trapper walking down the road, carrying a shovel in one hand and Hawkeye over a shoulder. As soon as he was out of sight of the camp he stopped and lowered Hawkeye to the ground as gently as he could. He couldn't bring himself to look at the bruised face of his friend. He turned his attention to digging instead.
*** *** ***

Trapper, he's really gone isn't he? Henry's eyes were so sad Trapper longed to tell him Hawkeye was alive. But he couldn't. He said nothing, and the sadness in Henry's eyes grew even more intense. He looked away, and Trapper could tell he was crying.

Across from them Margaret was sitting in pale faced silence, and Trapper thought she was probably in shock. But he couldn't bring himself to go over and comfort her. He couldn't bring himself to do anything.

*** *** ***



I really am evil aren't I? Tell you what, I'll get the next chapter posted up by Sunday and you can all see I'm not so bad. If you like I'll let you in on a secret, I know what's going to happen now, and, because I love him so much, it involves Hawkeye!