Thunderbirds and The Tracy Family are the creation of Sylvia and Gerry Anderson

Chapter 74

"Lieutenant Tracy," the woman's voice called.

Scott stirred, flickering his eyes open at the familiar voice. He turned his head and fixed Colonel Lauren Adams with a cold, hard look. She didn't waver for she didn't really expect that he would be pleased to see her.

"Lieutenant Tracy….I can't tell you how glad I am we've got you back with us….both you and Lieutenant Numann," Colonel Adams started and very much aware of the young man's piercing stare. "Lieutenant…I can understand your not being happy with my decision…and I can't tell you how much that has been on my mind since….well….we can't change what has happened….let's just say if I could have made my decision over again I would have done things differently. As it is I can only offer my sincerest apologies for what has happened to you….what has happened to you both. I have been to see Lt Numann of course," she added, feeling it her duty to be honest.

"Well I guess we all have to find some way to live with ourselves...Colonel...Ma'am," Scott stated coldly, though being astute enough to accord the Base Commander her rank and courtesy title. His heavy sarcasm, though, had not gone unnoticed by her but she was more than willingly to let it drop, given his condition and, of course, it was her privilege to treat this as a private visit rather than an official one. She certainly would not have wanted it on his record that he was being insubordinate to a superior officer but then Lt Scott Tracy could not have been accused of that for he had chosen his words very carefully. He turned and stared at the window.

"Yes…I guess we do, Lieutenant," the Colonel agreed. "I also want to say we're very grateful to you for bringing back the assault weapon that you…retrieved…from 'Charlie'…..our intelligence people are very excited to be able to get their hands on one of these weapons at last….that and the bullet that was taken from you, Lieutenant. I have been talking with Lt Numann…..and he has informed me as to how you came by the weapon," she added slowly, having wanted to find some way to carefully broach this subject. Scott turned, slowly closed and opened his eyes to fix her with such a chilling, cold stare it made her feel slightly uncomfortable. "Yes..well...I will need an official report from you, Lieutenant…..but that can obviously wait until you're feeling better.

"If you have the details….then you don't need anything else from me……Ma'am," Scott responded with an equal coldness in his voice.

Colonel Adams winced. She could tell the young Lieutenant was finding it hard to come to terms with what he felt he had to do and sometimes she hated having to enforce the official line. "Unfortunately I need to hear it from you, Lieutenant…..we both know that…..but as I said….I won't ask for a report from you just yet. Lieutenant Tracy….for what it's worth….you were very brave in your actions…you did everything possible to evade capture for both you and your injured colleague….you did what you had to do, Lieutenant and you are a credit to the United States Air Force," she added encouragingly, wanting him to know that no matter what he thought of her she thought highly of him.

Scott stared at the opposite wall as she spoke but gave no response. He had determined in his mind that if they wanted a report then they would get a report, as brief and concise as he could make it, that he retrieved a weapon from the enemy by taking out said enemy and so evading capture.

"I have….eh….also sent off your NVS for analysis," the Colonel informed him.

Scott turned again to look at her, his face a blank canvas, devoid of any emotion, though his eyes asked the obvious question. He could see by her expression that she had viewed it for herself and that she was clearly moved by what she had seen but, curiously, he felt nothing for the pain she expressed.

"Yes Lieutenant….I did look at it before I sent it off…..and I can only apologise again for what you had to witness," she began.

"It's not me you need to apologise to...Ma'am," Scott returned coolly, taking care to be polite. In his methodical way of thinking those villagers would not have been tortured had 'Charlie' not been looking for them and 'Charlie' would not have been looking for them had they not been forced down. They wouldn't have been forced down, of course, if they had been able to defend themselves, which all came back to them not being armed, equating what happened in the village solely with her decision.

The young Lieutenant's insinuation was obvious, making her wince. "Lieutenant….I can well understand your feeling powerless to help those people….but you do know there was nothing you could have done…and besides….what happened in that village would probably have happened whether you were there or not," Lauren Adams stated gently, hoping it would alleviate some of the guilt he felt. It was a forlorn hope.

"Well I guess we'll never know that for sure….and that's something else we'll have to live with……Ma'am," Scott responded icily and completely unafraid of speaking his mind. I don't honestly think that Lt Scott Tracy cared, at that point in time, whether he faced a court-martial or not such was the deep agony of soul he was in. Was that what he was trying to achieve, to atone, perhaps in some way, for what he had done or felt he hadn't done? Who knows but Colonel Adams had no intention of giving it to him.

Lauren Adams recognised in Lieutenant Scott Tracy a young man of high ideals and strong moral principle, something very rare in young people and something she saw that should be cherished and nurtured. She hoped she could help him come to terms with things by putting things in perspective and helping him see the bigger picture. "Lieutenant….I don't think you really realise what an important thing you have achieved here…..our intelligence people have been really stirred up…..and…I wish there was a better word for it….but excited…by what you have managed to record. You do realise that no such visual evidence exists of such atrocities….until now….and now it can be presented to the United Nations for all to see. Lieutenant….what you did was truly remarkable and took more guts than you give yourself credit for."

For the briefest of seconds it looked like Scott Tracy's ice wall would crumble as his eyes, heavy with exhaustion and the need for peaceful sleep, glistened with the threat of unshed tears but he would not succumb to the emotion. He shifted to try to make himself more comfortable but only succeeded in sending a wave of pain through his body. He groaned and closed his eyes, trying to focus his way through the pain until it subsided.

Lauren Adams winced, feeling for the young man's agony for she had been informed of his injuries and the surgical procedure he endured and the bruising on his ribs could hardly be ignored. "Would you like me to call Captain Conley for you….get you something for the pain?" she asked sympathetically. He shook his head, telling her he'd already been given something. He could barely keep his eyes open now and Colonel Adams took that as her cue to leave. "I can see you need to rest, Lieutenant so I'll leave….and Lieutenant…..I am glad we got you back."

When it was heard that Lieutenant Scott Tracy had regained consciousness a lighter mood seemed to settle over the base and, of course, all his squadron buddies wanted to go see him. Captain Conley found herself having to be strict since this was only his first waking day, insisting that he needed to rest and limited his visitors to that of Major Hollis. He was sensible enough to keep his visit short, wanting just to content himself that his young Lieutenant was all right. For the rest of the day Scott drifted in and out of consciousness, becoming more and more annoyed at the constant interruptions of the nurses as they busied about him, especially when they moved him to change his dressing, so much so that at one point Sarah Conley thought she had seen one young nurse about to burst into tears when she had almost run into her in the corridor. His body craved sleep, some respite from the pain but when he closed his eyes his mind was tormented by images he could not forget.

Early in the evening a sharp rap on the open door of her office caused Captain Conley to look up from the monitor where she was checking up on the latest patient information. She came instantly to attention as two smart looking gentlemen, both in pristine Air Force dress uniform entered the room, the younger of the two men wearing the insignia of a Silver Leaf, indicating his rank as a Lt Colonel. The other man was slightly older and slightly rounder in shape and face with a distinctly receding hairline, conveying his love of good food and little exercise and his insignia was one Silver Star, indicating a Brigadier General. They may have been strictly military and she nursing staff but Air Force protocol still demanded she salute superior officers. They returned the salute but once protocol had been adhered to Captain Conley was again in charge of her small corner and it was on her say so alone whether any patient was allowed visitors, no matter should he be a four star General. It was something though she never yet had to test, that of refusing a four star General admittance but it made her smile to think she had that ultimate authority.

"Well Colonel….General….what can I do for you gentlemen?" Captain Conley asked politely as she looked from one to the other.

"We understand that Lieutenant Tracy has regained consciousness…..we would like to talk with him, Captain," the Lt Colonel replied simply without giving any explanation.

The Captain studied the two officious looking men for a moment and concluding they must be from Intelligence made her decision. "I'm sorry, gentlemen……Lieutenant Tracy is not up to being interviewed at the moment….he needs complete rest," she stated calmly and professionally.

The two officers looked at each other as though they had never been denied their request before and then the General gave a curt nod to the Colonel. "You don't understand Captain….we're not here to interview Lieutenant Tracy. We have come all the way from the Pentagon to see him…..we're here to give him some good news," the Colonel offered.

Sarah Conley eyed the two men warily and a little curiously. "And just what might that be Colonel…..General? I need to know if Lieutenant Tracy would be up to receiving that news," she explained.

Again the two men looked at each other before finally deciding they weren't going to get past her until they told her what she needed to know. "Like we said, Captain…..we've come from the Pentagon……to tell Lieutenant Tracy…….," the General began to tell her, at which her eyes just got wider and wider.

She couldn't help but smile, feeling more than proud for the young man, even though she was not aware of all the circumstances of his ordeal. She felt he was truly deserving and more than worthy and perhaps it was just what he needed to hear. "If you'll follow me, gentlemen……but I would just ask you to bear in mind that Lt Tracy has only regained consciousness today……he's still in a considerable amount of pain as well as being exhausted and as such…..well…he might be a little less than agreeable!" she warned as she led the two officers to his room.

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant Tracy……you've got a couple of visitors," Sarah Conley called softly.

Scott groaned. Why couldn't they just leave him alone. "Go away….just leave me alone…..why can't you all just leave me the hell alone," he snapped without even opening his eyes.

Captain Conley gave the two officers a sheepish grin and a raise of her eyebrows in a 'Well I did warn you' kind of way. "Well….I'll just leave you two gentlemen to it," she added with almost smug satisfaction and hastily exited the room, though she couldn't help but feel she had just thrown the sheep to the wolves, or should that be, to the wolf. She figured Lt Tracy was more than a match for any high-ranking officer, despite his present condition, though of course, she would keep a discreet eye on the situation.

Left alone the two men looked at each other as if almost unsure of what to do next. The General gave the Colonel a curt nod to proceed; well that is the privilege of rank and the reason for having subordinates. The Colonel then approached Scott's bed and, raising his fist to his mouth, gave a short cough. "Lieutenant Tracy! I am Lieutenant Colonel Kimball….and this is Brigadier General Hansen…..we've come from the Pentagon to see you, Lieutenant," the Colonel began as he introduced them.

Scott slowly opened his heavy eyes, turned and fixed both men with an icy cold, emotionless stare, totally unimpressed with their credentials or where they were from.

Beads of sweat had broken out on the General's rounded face, whether it was not being used to the tropical heat of the place or not it was hard to tell but he found himself running a finger around the inside of his collar as though to loosen it. "Well yes….when it was known what you had brought back for us, Lieutenant….and your courageous actions in rescuing your colleague…..and in successfully evading capture…..and very impressively I have to say…..that's what we need…young men with guts and backbone who are not afraid to get the job done," the General said, all but gushing with admiration and not taking one minute to think how Scott might be affected by it. "….well I just wanted to salute the young man in person who's to receive the Medal of Honor for his gallantry…..that's right son…we're here to inform you that you are to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor…..to be presented by the President himself," the General stated proudly. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Tracy. It's an honor to have young men like yourself serving in the United States Air Force."

There are actually three versions of the Medal of Honor, one for each of the Services, Navy, Army and the one Scott would receive, of course, the Air Force, which had, appropriately, the word Valor added to it.

Scott said nothing, only turned to look at the blank wall in front of him. Both men again looked at each other, slightly puzzled. They were used to a mixture of emotions on the few occasions that they had performed this task, from tears welling up in eyes and feeling unworthy to being stunned, overwhelmed but rarely had they encountered the attitude of this young man who seemed to feel…..nothing.

"Didn't you hear what was said, Lieutenant? You are to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor….the highest honor our country can bestow…..for gallant action above and beyond the call of duty," the Colonel stated with pride.

So, he was to be awarded a medal. For what! For ending a young boy's life and snapping another man's neck and watching villagers be tortured. Scott turned to look at the Colonel with an impassive stare. "I heard you…..and the people of that village…they get a medal!" he inquired coldly, knowing already what the answer would be.

The two officers shifted uncomfortably. "Well no, of course not……em…I mean….the Medal of Honor is not awarded to groups of people but to individuals who it is deemed have carried out exceptional feats of bravery and courage…..who have went above and beyond the call of duty in defence of their country…..and these people….well..these people…..," General Hansen had started to explain to him.

"……are innocent people," Scott responded immediately, fixing him with a challenging stare.

The General coughed to clear his throat. "Ahhmm…..of course they are, Lieutenant…..but they just aren't ….American citizens," he replied, as though that should have been obvious and giving a nervous little laugh.

"And what if I don't want it," Scott stated bluntly. After all, he didn't ask to be awarded anything for saving his friend's life.

For a moment there was stunned silence. "We can well understand how you must be feeling, Lieutenant Tracy…..and, of course, you're still in some discomfort but…..," the Colonel had started to say and thinking it had accounted for Scott's attitude.

Scott drew in a breath as his face grimaced with the next wave of pain. "You have no gawd damn idea what I feel…..Colonel," he responded wearily.

"You're right….and I apologize…..but there's something you need to understand here, Lieutenant…..morale back home is on the wane…..people need to feel….well….that we're doing some good here….that we're needed here….and of course with the evidence that you have provided us with it proves just that," Colonel Kimball went on to explain, as Scott eyed the two men with a heavy frown of wary suspicion.

"Yes….and the President….needs….to give this medal. The country needs a hero…..and that hero is you, Lieutenant Tracy…..so you see…..it is your duty to accept this medal," General Hansen added on.

Scott let out a contemptuous laugh. So that was it. His duty! They played dirty. How dare they question his duty to his country. It seemed that even in the awarding of a medal power politics came into play and now he was trapped. He would accept the medal, as his bounden duty but they couldn't order him to like it. Scott closed and opened his eyes slowly, letting out a deep sigh of resignation as he turned to stare at the wall. The two officers let out a sigh of relief.

Now that that little problem had been averted the General gave a curt cough, prompting the Colonel to return to the next task in hand. He gave a brief nod at which Colonel Kimball started fumbling in the briefcase he had set at his feet. Scott turned, puzzled at this flurry of activity, thinking they had done what they came to do. Colonel Kimball pulled out a small black box, opened it and passed it to the General who lifted out its contents.

"While we are here, Lieutenant Tracy, we've also been instructed to award you with your Purple Heart medal…..for your wound received in action," General Hansen stated. He stepped forward with the medal in hand and then realised, embarrassingly, there was nowhere to actually pin it since Scott was devoid of any clothes. He placed it in Scott's open left hand as it lay on the bedsheet.

Scott stared at the heart-shaped medal, emblazoned with a cameo picture of George Washington, and felt...nothing. "And Jez gets one of these too?" he asked, to which the two officers looked blankly at each other. "Lt Numann…..does he get one of these too?" Scott repeated.

"Yes, of course Lt Numann gets a Purple Heart…..his injury was caused by direct enemy fire forcing him to eject the aircraft…..he will be given that by Colonel Adams," Colonel Kimball assured him. Scott nodded.

"And the people of that village….do they get one of these too…..do they get a Purple Heart for their wounds!" Scott asked directly, knowing very well what the answer was.

"Well no, Lieutenant. The Purple Heart can only be awarded to members of the American Armed Forces, as I'm sure you're well aware," the Colonel responded with a wince, knowing Scott was emphazing a moral point.

"Then you can give them mine…..since it is mine," Scott insisted defiantly and challenging the Colonel on a point of principle.

The Colonel looked apprehensively to his senior officer. "I'm afraid we can't do that, Lieutenant Tracy …..this medal is yours by right…for wounds that you have received……and you more than deserve it," he said understandingly. They had seen it before. It wasn't uncommon for such young men to feel ill-deserving in the face of someone else's greater injury or indeed, that because the medal was handed out for even minor injuries that little value was placed on it.

"Are you going to tell me it's my bounden duty to accept this too," Scott responded with just a little touch of sarcasm, as he fixed the two men with a cold, hard stare.

"Be very careful, Lieutenant….let me remind you that you are addressing senior officers," the Brigadier General warned.

Scott was not in the mood to be threatened, which was how he saw it. "Or what! That I face a court-martial. And just how would that look for your Medal of Honor winner….for your national hero," he replied, his voice as icy as his look. It seemed Lieutenant Tracy was prepared to risk all and play them at their own game but in truth, he couldn't have cared less.

The Colonel gave a nervous laugh. "I'm sure there's no need for all this," he assured all concerned for he could well see the PR on this one: 'United States Air Force court-martials its Medal of Honour recipient while he lies ill and gravely injured from bravely rescuing his wounded colleague and after having been shot down while in the execution of his duty'. "We can see you're obviously still in some discomfort from your wound, Lieutenant….and that you're still exhausted from your ordeal….isn't that right, General," Colonel Kimball pointed out diplomatically.

The same thoughts had been going through the General's mind for these men were well used to dealing with image and public relations. "Yes of course, Colonel," he agreed immediately then gave Scott a reassuring smile. "There's no question of a court-martial here, son…good heavens no…..we can't be giving a court-martial to our Medal of Honor hero….and like the Colonel said…we can see you are exhausted….this has all been a bit much for you to take in, I'm sure, so we'll leave you to get your rest, Lieutenant."

The two officers came smartly to attention and gave an equally smart salute. Scott's natural instinct was to return the salute. His right hand trembled and quivered with the effort it was taking him to raise it, his face contorted in agony but he couldn't lift it very far before it fell back onto the bed. The Colonel was visibly moved and winced in sympathy at the pain the effort was causing him. "It's all right, son…you are not required to return this salute….it is our privilege to honor you as the Medal of Honor recipient and you can expect a lot of more of that in the future, Lieutenant," he added with an understanding smile and explaining the protocol to him. "Once gain... congratulations son."

The two men left him while Scott sank back onto the pillows and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, though trying not to, as he took in the news. A few moments later he opened his eyes and stared impassively at the heart-shaped medal, reminding him of what he was suffering and reminding him of what those people suffered. Scott closed his hand around it and, with an effort, flung it as far as he could. The medal went skidding across the floor, out through the open door and into the corridor where it came to a stop against the shoe of the nurse who was standing at the Nursing Station. She was discussing with the nurse behind the desk the topic that had become the main source of gossip around the ward. Speculation and rumour had been running rife ever since the two senior officers arrived and Captain Conley had shown them into Lieutenant Tracy's room. Curious she bent down and picked it up and was surprised to see it was the medal. Puzzled, she looked around to see where it could have come from and on seeing the open door almost opposite the Nursing Station, surmised it had to have come from there.

"You seem to have lost something, Lieutenant Tracy…..I take it this is yours," the nurse said with a wry smile. Scott stared at her blankly and said nothing. She opened the black box on top of his locker and saw that it was empty. "Would you like to have it….or will I put it away for you?" she asked.

"Just…..leave me alone," Scott sighed with a heavy weariness. It seemed he couldn't even throw the medal away.

As she put the medal in the box and into the drawer she couldn't help but let her curiosity get the better of her. "Oh Lieutenant…..we were just wondering…..well…is it true?" the nurse asked, barely able to keep the excitement from her voice.

Scott frowned. "Is what true?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well…those two officers….someone said they're from the Pentagon….and rumour says that they were here to tell you, you're to get the Medal of Honor…..is that true, Lieutenant…..are you getting the Medal of Honor?" she continued excitedly.

Everyone knew what a high honor it was to be awarded such a medal and because the medal was awarded to so few, for exceptional courage, those who received it were held in something of a celebrity status. It was an aspect of being awarded the medal that Scott was not relishing at all, knowing already what it was to have to carry the burden of being Jefferson Tracy's eldest son and heir. He had never made known that fact, although it was known to his closest friends and colleagues and was one of the reasons he enjoyed his Air Force career because he could make his own way and just be Scott Tracy. Now, if this became public knowledge, he would have to endure a lot of unwelcome attention, something he could well do without right now, in his present condition.

"Leave me alone," Scott responded coldly and turned to face the window.

The nurse left the room and returned to the Nursing Station. "So…..was it his!" the nurse behind the desk asked, trying not to sound too interested to which her colleague nodded. "And did you ask him about the...other medal?" she added eagerly. "What did he say?"

The nurse shrugged her shoulders. "He wouldn't say anything….just wanted to be left alone," she said sadly.

"Gee…poor guy…..makes you wonder what happened to him out there…doesn't it," the nurse behind the desk mused.

"Yeah…..it's so sad…..and he's such a hunk too," her colleague added dreamily.

"Yeah," the nurse at the desk responded equally as dreamy. "Say…that reminds me. I'm on duty in the morning and I know who I'm gonna get to wash first," she added with a grin.

"Oh…just hold on a minute. I'm on duty too…and I seem to remember I'm down to do the single rooms and you're doing Bay 1," the other nurse reminded her with a teasing laugh.

Her friend behind the desk frowned and then smiled, an idea having come to her. "You're down to do a cath tomorrow, aren't you? Well…you let me take care of Lieutenant Tracy and I'll do your cath," she offered with a wide-eyed grin.

"You're really…that…desperate. OK, it's a deal," the other nurse accepted and feeling almost a little guilty, for if Lt Tracy was in the same mood in the morning as he was in just now then her colleague might not have as pleasant an experience as she hoped for and she gets let off doing the cath job. And just what was this little job the nurses were willing to trade off? It was that 'very popular' and unavoidable procedure of inserting a catheter and if there was a way of avoiding it then it was to be seized at all costs.

"Well gee…let me think….Lieutenant Tracy for the cath job," the desk nurse mused in the pretence of weighing up the deal and thinking she was definitely getting the better part. "Come on…you've only gotta look at the guy. What I wouldn't give to run my fingers through his hair."

Her colleague had to agree that the young Lieutenant was certainly worth looking at but Lieutenant Tracy in a foul mood for the cath job might not be such a good bargain after all and she couldn't help but smile and think, 'On your head be it'.

I wonder what Lieutenant Tracy would have made, though, of being traded off like a prize stallion!

That night as Scott tried to sleep he was aware of a presence in his room. He turned with the feeling of being in slow motion and saw that Colonel Kimball and General Hansen were standing by his bed.

"There was something we should have insisted on earlier, Lieutenant," the Colonel said smiling.

"Yes Lieutenant Tracy….you must wear your Purple Heart," General Hansen added with the same fixed smile.

Scott looked from one to the other in bewildered confusion and then down at himself. "But….but there's nowhere to pin it."

The two officers smiled at each other. "Oh come now, Lieutenant…..you're being too modest….of course there is. Here…let me," the General replied in a sinister tone.

Scott watched as General Hansen turned to the Colonel who was holding the black box, watched as the General lifted out the medal and undid the clasp. He felt his heart rate climb and his breathing deepen as he watched the General come towards him and bend forward and watched horrified as the General pushed the pin in through the skin of his chest above his heart, out the other side and fasten the clasp, leaving the medal now pinned to his bare chest. Scott drew in a gasp, held it and let out his breath in a deep groan, his mind in total confusion. He felt himself then gasping and panting for air.

The General straightened up. "There…..wear your Purple Heart with pride, Lieutenant Tracy……it is your duty," he said, his voice becoming more dark and sinister.

"Yes…it is your bounden duty, Lieutenant," the Colonel added with the same sinister inflection.

With his face contorting in anguish Scott looked down at his chest to see blood trickling down from the puncture wounds then he turned to look at the two men, not understanding why they would do this, only to see them recede into the distance. The words echoed in his head. 'Wear your Purple Heart with pride, Lieutenant Tracy….it is your duty……wear your Purple Heart….it is your duty……your duty……'

The nurse on night duty came rushing into Scott's room, having been alerted to his climbing heart rate on her bank of monitors at the Nursing Station. She found him perspiring heavily and deeply distressed.

"No….no….take it off….take it off…..get it off…..no…..take it off…..," he kept repeating as he tossed and turned and tried to claw at his chest with his left hand.

She could see his eyes were wide open in panic and something was obviously distressing him. "Lieutenant! What's wrong……what is it?" she called gently while she dabbed at his face with a towel but he just kept repeating the same thing. "Lieutenant! Lieutenant Tracy…take what off….there's nothing there….you're having a nightmare," she assured him.

Although his eyes were open he wasn't seeing her and as soon as she placed her cool hand on his forehead Scott startled awake. "The…the medal….the medal….take it out," he gasped, taking in deep breaths.

The nurse winced, unable to imagine what must have been going through his tortured mind; she only knew it was something deeply disturbing to him. She opened the drawer. "Is this what you mean, Lieutenant? Your Purple Heart! It's right here….do you want it?" she asked gently as she showed him the medal she had taken from its box in the drawer.

It took Scott a few moments to realise where he was. He looked at her, looked at the medal and then down at his chest. There was nothing there, no medal, no blood and no puncture wounds. He fell back on the pillows knowing he had experienced a very vivid and disturbing nightmare. "No. Take it away…..take it outta my sight," he groaned, the pain now engulfing him as he tried to take more shallow breaths.

The night nurse put the medal back in its box and out of sight in the drawer. "I'll get you something to help you sleep," she said understandingly, knowing his lack of peaceful sleep wasn't helping his mood any. She left the room and came back within minutes.

"Can't sleep…..don't wanna sleep…..need….need to sleep," Scott moaned, his mind crying out for one thing while his body cried out for another.

"It's all right, Lieutenant Tracy…..you've had a long day…..these will help," she assured him gently, moved by his pitiful pleas. She pushed a couple of pills into his mouth and gave him a drink from the spouted cup.

Scott swallowed and within a short while he felt himself drifting into a deeper, though still restless sleep. The nurse stayed, keeping an eye on him until he was finally under, as she added the incident, time and what she had given him to his datafile at the end of the bed.

Earlier that evening on a small island in the South Pacific the vid-screen came, once more, to life with the face ofMajor General Steve Ryder. "Jeff….that's wonderful news about Scott…..that he's regained consciousness…..I hear he's going to pull through," he began, more than happy for his friend.

"Yes Steve….we're all mighty relieved…..we were informed this morning that he came too," Jeff responded and getting a distinct feeling that Steve Ryder hadn't just called to offer his relief.

"Jeff…there's something I thought you might like to know. Because of Scott's brave and courageous actions he is to be awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor…..I can't tell you how pleased I am for him, Jeff…..and for you…..I know you must be very proud of him," Steve said warmly.

This was indeed a proud moment for any father. He felt a well of emotion rise up in him at hearing the news. His eldest son, who was gravely wounded as he bravely and gallantly rescued his colleague was to be awarded his country's highest honor; just because he chose to live on a Pacific island Jefferson Tracy still considered himself very much an American citizen. What father wouldn't be proud?

"Steve…I can hardly believe this. Yes, of course, I'm proud of my son….I was proud of him without the medal but I'm happy that he's getting the recognition for his actions," Jeff replied, stoically trying to remain composed in the face of his overwhelming emotion. "Does Scott know of this yet, Steve?" he asked, wondering how his son would take the news for although his son was a single, carefree and popular young man he also knew him to be modest, willing to carry out his duty without any thought of reward and not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Two of our people went out there yesterday, Jeff…..so I would think they're telling him right about now," General Ryder replied.

Jeff nodded. Something, though, was sitting decidedly uneasy with his friend. "Steve…..there's something you're not telling me," he observed, seeing his friend become troubled, as though he wasn't sure how to tell him.

"Jeff….there are things that have come to light about Scott's ordeal in the jungle……things which were taken into consideration in the awarding of this medal," Steve Ryder began carefully.

This was all beginning to sound a bit mysterious. "Things! What things, Steve?" Jeff asked worriedly.

"Jeff…you must understand….that what Scott had to do…well it was taken entirely out of his hands….what Scott did he had to do to save his colleague and himself….he did what he did in the execution of his duty….to evade capture…as he had been taught to do," Steve explained in order to prepare him.

Now this was sounding even more mysterious and worrying. "Just tell me, Steve….what happened to my son out there?" Jeff asked, feeling again that cold chill grip his heart.

General Ryder leaned forward to the vid-screen as though about to impart some great national secret. "Jeff…are you alone?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes I'm alone, Steve. Virgil is….elsewhere in the house. Now just what in the hell is all this about? Tell me what happened to my son," Jeff replied, his anxiety spilling out and no longer able to contain his irritability at the 'cloak and dagger' response from his friend.

"All right, Jeff. In order to evade capture Scott was forced to………"