"That should do the trick," Colonel Potter said kindly, finishing up a bandage on the young woman's ankle. "Just a sprain. You keep that rested for a few days. As for that nasty bruise on your ribs and the scrape on your neck, they should clear up in a week or so. Painful, I know, but at least it's not permanent."
"Thank you sir," she said, wincing as she slid off his desk.
"Now, why don't you take that seat, and this drink," he said, sitting a glass of whisky on the desk in front of her. "And tell me what happened. You look like you've been through hell and back."
There was a long silence. The girl opened her mouth but closed it again quickly.
"Why don't we start with your name?" Potter asked gently.
The girl looked around at the walls for a minute. She shifted in her seat nervously. "Sir, is this the 4077th?"
"You bet. Best Care Anywhere; at least that's what the sign says."
"I'm Lieutenant Amy Clark, Colonel Potter. I'm your new nurse."
Colonel Potter sat forward in his seat and crossed his arms on top of the desk. He stared at her intently for a moment. "New nurse? Singular? That's supposed to be nurses."
"Yes sir, it is supposed to be," she said, biting the inside of her lip and frowning as she stared into her glass.
"And my new nurses, plural, were supposed to arrive on Tuesday at 1600 hours, not on Thursday at 2300 hours. What happened?"
Amy swallowed and continued to stare into her untouched whisky. A couple of times she opened her mouth, but no words came out. All of a sudden, she lifted her glass and downed the whole lot. When she lowered it again, there were tears in her eyes but her jaw was set.
"We didn't make it," she said hoarsely.
