Flashes, Eyes and Pain & Political Chess

Twelve Days After Rescue – Base Hospital Afghanistan – Sam's Room – 0900

He was getting depressed sitting in the dark doing nothing and still not knowing who he was. The omelet he was eating was runny and tasteless. He mostly pushed it around the plate as he did with most every meal. He briefly thought he could make a better omelet maybe with jalapenos to give it some kick.

Then he wondered if he even made omelets. He tried one more bite, nope, done, hospital food was gross. What he wouldn't give for something that tasted good. A fleeting flash of orange and green and then lasagna and fresh bread crossed his mind and made his mouth water.

Sam wanted to leave so badly. He had an urgent sense of uneasiness that constantly gnawed at him about being in a hospital. But leave to where? In his present state of mind he really wanted to go somewhere safe, warm and comforting.

As he absently pushed the yellow egg around the plate he had a flash to fast to retain much detail of a light yellow kitchen full of laughter. It gave him the sense that he knew of a safe place like that where he would always be welcomed. That tiny thought left him feeling slightly better.

The past few days the guys called Zach, Winds and Mason had shared so much of the history of the man he was supposed to be. Some of it was unbelievable and he thought they were pulling his leg. Who the hell would throw themselves off a cliff to catch someone else? Or any number of the other risky acts he was supposed to have done to save others.

He wondered if the Sam man they described had a death wish but he didn't say that out loud. They seemed to admire, admonish and find humor in the actions all at the same time.

These guys laughed a lot. He found himself laughing with them sometimes. They lifted his spirits a little bit with their antics. He could tell they really cared for the Sam/Blondie guy.

Other things they told him about his supposed life were just so sad. Losing a sister so young right in front of you, man that had to hurt. When he asked why he had left JTF2 and gone to SRU then back they all went silent. Winds had gently told him why he left then told him about his life with SRU. Finally he told him why he had rejoined.

A small part of him was glad he couldn't remember all those things. Killing your best friend had to hurt a lot. The re-upping to save a son the man never knew he had seemed honorable to him. But then Winds and Mason told him about his last mission when the Zach guy was not in the room. They told him he could not tell anyone about it, top secret and all. Overall it seemed unfair one person should have to endure all that the Blondie/Sam guy did.

The guys had shared tons of happy, sad, horrific, unbelievable, raunchy and humorous memories all in the hope something would spark him on an emotional level to remember who he was. They really truly tried. All three of them were a bit hoarse for all the talking they did. Unfortunately nothing clicked. It was still a black box to him.

When they recounted the stories it was actually like hearing about the life of someone else or a character in a book. The only potential positive to come from it was as he got more information about that life, strange feelings and fleeting images were now happening more frequently while he was awake.

They occurred randomly. They were always nothing he could easily describe or fully grasp and were gone an instant later. Most didn't even stay with him afterwards either, like it never happened. But he knew it happened because in the instant they occurred it felt familiar somehow and left him feeling soothed like getting a hug from someone who cared.

What bothered him most though was that his eye sight had not cleared yet. All was still blurry and unfocused. However, the sensitivity was decreasing a little bit. He could now stand very low and dim light but anything more sent shards of pain to his head.

He thought how useless a sniper without eyesight would be. He could tell from the tone and inflections of the three they were getting more worried the longer his sight didn't clear and memory didn't come back.

They also wanted the General, apparently his father, to return and were wondering why he was gone so long. Two of them were very protective. Zach, his cousin, usually ran all the errands and left to sleep somewhere else. But Winds and Mason never left him.

Mason and Winds slept on a cot that was brought into the room. One was always awake as far as he could tell. Once there was a little light in the room he noticed they were always armed too. He was unsure why. Things just didn't make sense to him. He was so utterly confused and lost most of the time.

He overheard Zach, talking on a phone and kept hearing him say no change. Sam knew he was talking about him. He could tell Zach was avoiding telling whoever he was talking to his real condition. He would hate to be in Zach's position.

What should he tell? Body beat to hell. Couldn't stand light, can't see. No memory. It was better people didn't know, there was nothing they could do about it. Why worry them when they were so far away?

He had found out he was currently in Afghanistan. His home was in Toronto or was it Ottawa? He couldn't remember. But either one was so very far away.

Sam pushed the rolling table with awful omelet on it away from him and closed his eyes. He was so tired. He should try to sleep, but sleep brought its own problems.

Fragmented, elusive images haunted his sleep. Eyes. Mostly he saw eyes. But sometimes they were in disjointed faces. Maybe his mind was just playing a sick joke on him. He couldn't see and all he dreamed about were eyes.

Eyes that showed so many emotions but usually focused on negative ones. He felt the emotions intensely; every single one of them, like they were real and he experienced them before. Maybe he had from the stories Winds and Mason told of what he did as a soldier.

Most of the eyes reflected death in a myriad of ways. The eyes staring at nothing tore him to pieces. These were usually the sources of his nightmares. Less frequently he dreamed of blue and brown eyes that echoed raw grief and was usually accompanied by ungodly screams of grief.

He wished it was more often but occasionally he dreamed of eyes of various colors that made him want to laugh or smile. One set in particular made him feel a sense of deep longing. He liked dreaming of those brown eyes, he could get lost in them and never care.

Then there were a two sets of green eyes alike but different, one boy, one girl. The green one shined with the joyful innocence of small children and left him with a sense of hope.

Eyes, so many eyes, but none that helped him see who he was.

There was a knock on the door. Sam put the blackout cloth over his head. Winds called out it was okay to enter. The door open and closed quickly.

Dr. Nettle said "Good Morning Sam. How are you today?"

Sam knew the voice and as he pulled the cloth off said "Bout the same Dr. Nettle."

The doctor asked "Nightmares still happening?"

Sam nodded yes. There was no denying it. At least two of the three were always here and saw how he woke almost every time he slept. Drenched in sweat and crying out. They would talk softly to him and made sure he had that stuffed duck.

At first he thought it a strange thing for a grown man to have. When he finally asked why he had it Winds had explained it to him and why it was important to him. Somehow it just helped. Holding it didn't so much reduce the terror and fear feelings from the nightmares but brought happier and nicer feelings to the forefront. It was tucked under his pillow right now.

"Anything that sparks even a slight memory?" Nettle inquired.

Sam considered this. Not that he wanted too but he tried to think about last night's nightmares searching for anything. As he thought the smell of coffee tempted him. The doctor must have carried in a cup with him. Something familiar and important niggled at the back of his mind just out of reach as he inhaled the rich scent of coffee.

"Can I have coffee yet?" Sam asked, it almost sounded like begging.

Dr. Nettle looked at his cup. He wished he remembered to leave it outside. Sam was always asking for coffee. "No sorry. No coffee yet."

He heard Sam mutter dammit under his breath. Nettle felt bad but his patient was having enough trouble sleeping that he did not need to add caffeine to the mix. "Anything at all you recall?"

Eyes. It was always eyes. Sam decided to share; maybe they had information that might help it make sense to him. "It makes no sense to me, not really a memory, nothing concrete. It is so disjointed, but eyes. Last night I dreamed of four pairs of eyes."

"One pair seemed to belong to an older man they are icy blue that command obedience. Another comes with a man's face and they are wide open brown eyes with a weird mix of childlike innocence but full of grief. The third usually flashes briefly with a woman's face and are beautiful sable brown; they are downright captivating and sexy. The last are of a very young boy, soft green eyes full of courage and joy. I have no idea what it all means or who they belong to if anyone specific."

The doctor looked to the three for help interpreting.

Winds listened closely to the descriptions. He was pretty sure he knew the answer. "Blondie. I believe I know who those eyes belong to. All four are descriptions of people that are very important to you."

He moved closer as he said "The icy blue commanding eyes can be no one other than your dad's, the General. I think you would know him when you saw him from the eyes alone. The male brown eyes sound like they belong to Spike on your SRU team. He can act so much like a kid and a few months ago you all lost Lou another SRU officer to a landmine. Spike and Lou were best friends."

Sam interrupted "Did I hear you right, a landmine with SRU? What the hell, landmines in Toronto?"

Winds continued "Don't know all the details, but yeah SRU isn't for sissies, that's for sure. You get into lots of dangerous situations with SRU. Spike was not able to re-pin the mine, the bastard that set it glued the hole. Lou stepped off to save Spike. He was devastated as you all were watching him die before your eyes. You have been helping Spike bounce back. Both of you losing a best friend tragically, you can relate to what he was going through. So the brown ones are probably Spike."

"And the woman and boy?" Sam asked saddened to hear that someone had died and his friends had to stand by and watch it happen unable to do anything to help. That had to be hard on them all. He thought quickly, he still had empathy even if he didn't have memory.

A lightness entered Winds voice when he said "The woman's eyes are definitely Jules Callaghan who is a teammate and very close friend of yours in SRU. You and she dated for a bit but decided to be just friends so you could remain on the same team. Stupid kid, you should have dropped the team in an instant for that one. She's a keeper."

Laughing Winds continued "Hell the first time you met her you called her a sexy sniper chick and she and the rest of Team One drew down on you thinking you had a gun and were a threat to Jules."

"I did what?" Sam asked incredulously, this Sam guy was a cocky bastard.

It was still hard to think of Sam as him, nothing fit. Winds, Mason and Zach had a great time razzing him completely as they described how he had first met Team One and his first call with them when Ed went all coffee shop on his ass.

He then asked them how they knew so much about the SRU team and they told him about how the team and unit met in the waiting room after the gang war. Which lead into a whole explanation of the gang war and the entire aftermath down to how his cousins helped him return to SRU.

When they were done, he wasn't so sure if they were pulling his leg or not. Who the hell was this Sam/Blondie guy? He sounded like a trouble magnet and so screwed up. Who wouldn't be after all the terrible things that happened to the guy and to people he cared about. Did he really want to remember him or just create a new simpler life moving forward?

Getting back to the eyes, Winds said "I think the last ones, the little boy. I think those belong to Ben. You two only spent a short time together but Daphne could not stop talking about how deep a connection you and Ben established in such a short time."

Winds sighed as he said "Little Ben is the spitting image of Matt, especially the eyes. You and Matt had a very deep brotherly connection. You two were always there for each other. Never failed one another. Also, all of this stemmed from you giving up the life you wanted to try to save Ben, which you did. Ben is happy, healthy and safe because of you. Before we left to find you he constantly asked when he gets to see his Unca Sam."

It was quiet for some time allowing Sam to digest all the information. After the last bit he decided he definitely wanted to remember. All the good, bad, horrific and wonderful things. Yes he desperately wanted to remember.

Sam wanted his fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional life back. He didn't want to be lost and alone. As screwed up as the stories made him sound, he could tell people cared about him and he really care about them. He must be worth knowing.

Mason finally said "Does any of that help, trigger something, ring any bells?"

Sam thought stupid choice of words. Never did he ever want to hear another damned bell ringing. But the names and information connecting with images? Sadly no help, not the tiniest hint even with all the intense emotional components they shared in connection with them.

"No nothing" he responded despondently as he wiped a tear away.

It was quickly followed by more. He tried to stop them but it was too overwhelming. He didn't want to be lost. He didn't want to be alone. Everything he was was just gone, taken from him. It hurt so much.

Mason patted his shoulder but said not a word as the tears started to slip from Blondie. Winds was on the other side and did likewise. Zach was near the middle of his bed and simply put his hand on top of Sam's. All three felt close to doing the same seeing the hopeless lost and lonely look in his eyes.

Winds thought back to the blank look just after they brought him in. He never dreamed just how lost Blondie could be.

Dr. Nettle observed the tears and feeling himself moved emotionally shifted a little and looked down at his clipboard and cleared his throat to cover his feelings.

Quickly getting himself under control Sam looked toward the shadow of the doctor and asked in the same depressed voice "Doc is it possible that my memory never comes back?"

"Sam, like I said. The brain is mostly a mystery to us. It may take a long time, it may be instant. But from what I see in your scans I'm hopeful it will return. There was swelling but no damage I can see. I just can't tell you when or how it will return."

"I had one patient that when he saw his dog the memories came back in a rush. Others have reported triggers that range from kissing their wives to holding their children to driving their car to even cleaning a toilet. Usually it is something that evokes a strong memory. The memory might be happy, sad or just unique or special. All I can say is try to stay positive. Depression can suppress memories" Dr. Nettle told Sam in a reassuring voice.

The doctor lifted the papers on the clipboards smiled and said "I do have some very good news for you though. Given your latest scans yesterday they show only a very, very small amount of swelling left. Down enough that it may be safe for air travel, just have to validate with the ophthalmoscope. If it all checks out it looks like we will be able to send you home soon. Being home may help with the memory."

Home? Would he even know his home? He was uneasy in the hospital and wanted to leave but to where?

Sam still couldn't see. How would he take care of himself if he could not see? Sam's mind wandered a bit and thought maybe he dreams about eyes because his were worthless right now. If he was a sniper as Winds said he was, if they didn't get better he would never be a sniper again.

What would he do to support himself? He could never be a burden on anyone. Would life be worth living without his eyes?His emotions rushed around his head so mixed up not settling on one for long but always coming back to fear; confusion, fear, anger, fear, despondency, fear, frustration, fear, grief, fear, on and on it went.

The wealth of mixed emotions inflected every word but fear was clearly heard by all as Sam asked "What about my eyes?"

With that one question Dr. Nettle realized that the loss of sight scared this young man more than the loss of his memory. He knew he was a long distance marksman and understood his concern. Without eyesight he could no longer do his job. Hell the soldier's nightmares were all about eyes too.

Nettle sighed wishing he could promise it would come back and said "Again the same thing Sam. Same answer as yesterday. You are making progress. You can now handle low light. Time. Time is what is needed."

He saw Sam's discouraged and fearful look. Reassuringly he stated "Light sensitivity is very common with concussions and it goes away in time. You had two serious ones and a lot of blunt force trauma in a short span of time. Your body has a lot of healing to do. Most would not have survived what you have. I've reviewed your entire medical history. Based on what you have recovered from in the past, I say give it time to come back. You're a hard man to take down Samuel Braddock."

The doctor noticed the partially eaten breakfast. At least he was eating a bit more now. That was one challenge down. He moved closer then asked "Done with breakfast?" Sam nodded yes. "Okay good."

Winds, Mason and Zach all noted the grimace that fell into place on the doctor's face. It conflicted with his previous positive statements. But the source became clear as the doctor spoke to Sam.

He cleared his throat then said "So, it's time I got to what I came in here for this morning. I need to do a thorough examination of all your injuries today. Need a complete injury status report with the possibility of sending you home soon."

"This will not be just a cursory check like we've done the last few days. I'm very sorry but it's going to cause you a lot of pain. I wouldn't do it if it were not necessary. I need you to take a dose of pain meds now. I'll wait a moment while it takes effect. If during or after the assessment the pain becomes unmanageable just let me know and I'll give you an override dose."

Dr. Nettle had been happy to read about the pain med pump in his records and how useful it was for Sam to manage his own pain. When Sam could hear again he had ordered one immediately. Sam did so much better being in control. No extreme highs and lows, he maintained a more even level by not having to ask. Sam may not know who he is but some behaviors are innate and this man definitely did not ask for pain meds unless the pain was unbearable.

Sam leaned back and took a deep cleansing breath before he nodded yes and pressed his pain meds pump to release the small dose. He felt it enter his blood stream. It was very fast acting.

"Ready?" the doctor asked.

Sam nodded not looking forward to the pain he knew was coming.

The doctor started with the ankle moving it gently but testing the full range-of-motion. The ankle was still very swollen. His whole foot and leg up to the lower part of the calf were completely black, blue and purple. Mason and Winds deduced from the times Ali supplied to the blast that Blondie he had run for four nights.

Sam had done the entire mission in the tunnels on an ankle that most people would not have been able to bear weight on. He was damned lucky the tendon did not rupture completely. They watched as Blondie grimaced and heard the slight hiss in pain as the doctor moved it. Sam leaned back and breathed slowly he could manage this pain.

Next the doctor needed to check his legs. Moving to remove the sweat pants hurt his chest, abdomen, and ankle but mostly it hurt his pride as he could not do it himself. Mason lifted him gently from the bed as Winds helped the doctor to carefully remove them. Mason lowered him then the doctor checked the multitude of cuts and bruises that covered his legs.

Many were caused when he was slammed to the rocky ground after the blast. Others were from all falling and crawling he did as he tried to make his way to safety after the explosion. The raw, sliced up and previously infected knees were a direct result of the crawling. But none of them really knew how he had sustained those injuries.

Luckily, they were healing nicely with mostly tender pink skin now. When the doctor was done checking the legs the guys helped him dress again and position him on the bed.

Nettle gave Sam a moment to settle back and recompose as he made his notes. Then he explored his abdomen to ensure no new internal bleeding had started. It had stopped on its own and they did not have to go in surgically to stop it. But his abdomen was still very tender due to all the kicks he had received there.

Unfortunately, the doctor had to push hard in some spots to properly evaluate his condition. Winds saw the beads of sweat forming on Blondie's brow as he closed his eyes, clenched his jaw and concentrated on breathing slow and deep through his nose as Nettle probed deeply.

Sam blew out a deep breath when the doctor finally stopped.

Removing the bandage over the wound in his side caused him to flinch slightly as the tape pulled off of tender skin. The wound had gotten badly infected from all the dirt embed. Mason said it probably happened during the beatings he received and laying on the ground for eight days. Six days ago under local anesthesia the doctor had to incise the wound and go deep to clean it out and debride the infected tissue then stitch it closed.

Dr. Nettle was now removing the sutures. The little tugs as they were removed didn't bother Sam at all. Nettle then assessed the myriad of other cuts and abrasions covering the front side his upper body and arms; most of which had scabbed over or healed already. This part of the examination was a small reprieve from pain.

Next, Sam had to sit up and swing his legs off the bed. Mason helped steady him until he had his balance, which was a bit off with his unfocused eye sight. The doctor needed him fully upright while he checked all the cracked and broken ribs. His ankle throbbed hanging down. The doctor first checked all the bruising and cuts on his back.

Then he started checking the ribs. Pain shot deep with each probe of ribs and took Sam to the edge of his ability to control as small groans escaped. The doctor apologized for causing pain as he continued to examine the ribs.

When Nettle was finally done Sam was sweating, his breathing was short pants and he was teetering sitting up. Mason and Winds gently helped him lie back and Zach propped his ankle on the pillows again. Dr. Nettle gave him a several minutes to regroup as he made more notes.

Dr. Nettle set down his clipboard "How's the pain? What level?"

Sam indicated level eight through clenched teeth.

"I'm going to override." the doctor stated and Sam only nodded.

The doctor dialed in the dosage, entered the override passcode and administered the meds. He waited a few minutes for it to enter Sam's system.

He referred to his notes "Everything is healing nicely. I can clear you for travel for those injuries. I have one important examination left to do. Need to make sure there is no swelling on the optic nerve. I can't release you for travel if there is any swelling left. We both know this gonna hurt like hell and I'm truly sorry but it is necessary and unavoidable. I need you awake otherwise I'd just sedate you to do the examination."

Sam nodded fortifying himself for the onslaught of pain he was about to feel.

"Alright, here we go" Nettle said then pulled out his ophthalmoscope.

He held one eye open as he aimed the bright light of the scope into Sam's eye checking for swelling of the optical nerve where it inserts at the back of the eye. Sam's eye instantly tried to close. Lightning flashes seared and stabbed into his head as the doctor held his eye open and checked one then the other of his eyes with the scope.

Sam tried to hold back the screams but they came out as mangled sounds of intense pain. He held on for as long as he could, knowing the exam was important but this was beyond his control even with the extra meds given. His eyes rolled back as Sam slipped away from the pain into the comfort of darkness.

Nettle whispered to an unconscious Sam "I'm truly sorry for the pain that caused you. You did good, rest well now soldier."

He considered his patient a bit longer then dialed in another larger dose to keep his patient in a drug induced sleep because he truly needed the rest to heal. As he finished, he began thinking of which specialist he would refer Sam to when he got back to Ottawa. Dr. Blue he was the best ophthalmologist he knew there. He wished they had a good one here but sadly they didn't.

Looking at the three men positioned close to the bed Dr. Nettle saw their worry and he said "No swelling. All looks good for travel. Just need an hour or so for paperwork then whenever the General decides to move Sam all will be ready. We can deal with the light sensitivity in a variety of ways for travel. But he needs rest right now and he'll be out for at least a good five hours with the dose I just gave him. I'll be back to check on him in two hours. If he wakes or seems to be in pain before then have the nurse get me."

The three nodded and the doctor left the room.

Winds just barely registered the doctor's comments. He was stuck in a horrible loop hearing the mangled screams and the look on Blondie's face just before he went unconscious. He wished it didn't hurt him so badly. He hoped the doctor was right about his eyes healing in time.

If he wasn't, it meant an end to both military and SRU careers. Blondie would need a lot of support from all his family to make a new life. They would all be here for him. They would not leave him all alone.

Angry over his inability to stop what was happening to Blondie, Winds turned to Zach and asked heatedly "When is the General due back? He's been gone for six days now. What the hell is he doing anyhow? Blondie needs him here."

Mason saw the storm brewing in Winds and needed to head it off before it blew at Zach who in no way deserved it. He put a large hand on each of Winds shoulders and made eye contact then said in a deep bass calming voice "Relax Winds. Your anger won't help Blondie right now. Your anger is displaced. It's not Zach's fault the General is not here. Probably not the General's fault either. You know how he feels about his son."

Zach was angry too for the same reason, seeing Sam in such pain. He understood Winds anger was not directed at him.

He answered anyway "All Uncle Will told me was he had some important meetings or conference he had to attend. Something called by the Commander-in-Chief. I called my dad and other uncles and even Scott and Jeff but no one has seen or talked to him since he has been back home. We all know he would be here if he could. As instructed I leave a message daily on his encrypted line letting him know Sam's condition. He never returns my calls, so it must be big."

Zach let his own anger loose as he kicked the poor undeserving chair again knocking it clear across the room this time and slamming into the wall.

Angrily and loudly he said "I just wish he would let me tell the others Sam's true condition. It is getting so hard to keep quiet. They are all so worried. I hear it in all their voices every time they call. They are going to be so mad that we kept this from them. It's not fair to keep them in the dark even if there is nothing they can do about it right now they care too and should know."

Mason looked at Zach steadily and said questioningly "Kid, you do understand why the General doesn't want the information out. Right?"

Zach just looked at him confused, thinking why can't family know, the blackout was over.

Mason saw he didn't comprehend the situation so he asked "Do you ever wonder why Winds and I are always armed and never leave Blondie? That one of us is always awake with him?"

Zach looked at Mason's and then Winds' holsters. No he hadn't really wondered about them being armed. They are military. But now to think on it, in a hospital it was strange. Them always with Sam he had chalked up to the brotherhood they shared.

Again the look was one of confusion. At first Mason couldn't believe he didn't grasp the situation. But then he just assumed as a Braddock he would know and forgot about his age. Zach was still very young and inexperienced. Never actually been in a combat position and he was not in SF. He may or may not know all the details of things Blondie did and the impact of the investigation on a number of people's careers.

Mason sighed then explained "Blondie's SF JTF2 as a result he has a potential for lots of enemies, especially here of all places. Hell, he probably still has some in SF from the fall-out of the investigation into his service. It would put him at great risk if people knew his condition. He's an easy target right now. In his current state Blondie wouldn't know friend from foe."

Mason pointed to Blondie "We all just witnessed how bad-off he is physically, can't even sit without help to steady himself. With these injuries and lack of vision he cannot even protect himself. Keeping quiet is for his safety."

He moved toward Zach whose mouth was starting to hang open and finished "Just one wrong word by someone in an innocuous situation could spell trouble for Blondie if people who wanted to do him harm found out. Blondie's safety is more important to the General than the hurt feelings or worry of family and friends."

"My god, I never thought of it that way. I understand now. Christ I should have thought of that. I feel so freaking stupid right now. My brother Adam would have my head for being such a dumbass" Zach breathed out as he sat down overwhelmed at the thought of the risks Sam's condition would pose to him.

Zach looked up at Mason and Winds "Would one of you just hit me for being such a god damned idiot?"

Mason gave him a quick playful shove backwards with only a small amount of his strength. It knocked Zach over in the chair and he landed on his ass.

Winds laughed out loud "Christ Mason, the kid was only being rhetorical. Better be careful or you'll have to explain to the General why his nephew is hurt."

"Sorry didn't mean to knock him over. He must be a lightweight like you I guess" Mason said chuckling.

All three laughed and Mason reached out to pull Zach up.

Smiling Zach said "Lightweight my ass. You're just the size of a damned grizzly bear and just as powerful. Glad Sam has you protecting his six."

Mason's stomach growled loudly. Zach stared at him "Christ you even growl like one. Hungry I take it?"

Mason nodded.

"I'll be back in a bit with food. Gonna run to the PX and grab a few things for Sam too. He's gonna need a shirt for travel. I think he's not eating cause the food is crap here. Did you see that omelet he tried to eat? Gross. Last time I was there I saw they had some of his favorite power bars. Anything in particular you guys want?" Zach asked.

Winds and Mason provided Zach a list of things.

Zach left reviewing his mental list of items to get them. He still felt like a complete idiot for not recognizing the risk to Sam. He was a Braddock. He should have known better.

He had started feeling like the lackey last few days when he was the one always sent to get stuff. Thought they were pulling rank. But Zach understood now and felt like even more of an ass.

Zach was just glad the rest of the cousins didn't know how clueless he had been. Otherwise he would never, ever live the razzing down. He looked at his watch 1030. He did the mental time shift calculation 0200 in Ottawa and Toronto.

At least four hours of peace before calls and texts would start again. He now had the resolve to answer 'no change' without feeling guilty. Well maybe just a small twinge of guilt, but knowing it was for Sam's protection made it okay.

Twelve Days After Rescue – Special Forces Base – General's Office – 0115 (1:15 am)

Stretched out on his office couch, General Braddock was making plans for tomorrow in his head. He was obstinate and he would eventually succeed. This he knew for a fact because he would not accept failure on this mission. It was just maddening at the moment. One god damned capricious hold out. He needed unanimous agreement, not majority agreement.

He sometimes truly hated the politics that had to be played at this level. It was an arduous, twisted, interwoven political chess game. But his son's future was held in the balance not some benign plastic chess piece. He hated that Samuel's life was being treated like that of a god damned disposable pawn. To him Samuel was the most important piece on the chess board and had to be protected at all costs.

He had called Commander-in-Chief Jerrell James McFergus, James to his longtime friends when not in formal settings, for help. His request for assistance had been answered with more help than he could have imagined. James had arranged for him to meet separately with all committee members. He and James had met to discuss tactics and had devised a plan on how to approach each member individually.

The Commander supplied him with some information on the investigation into Samuel's service that even he had not been privy too that would add power to his case with some members. He had to carefully choose the points of the case he presented to each committee member depending on their security level, personal biases and political agendas. That had been tricky. The last holdout, number sixteen, only has a level three security clearance so he could not share the most compelling reasons with her, making this even more difficult.

The last six days he had drawn on his formidable strength to bulldoze through and attain his goal. Going from one committee member to another had tapped almost every artful skill he had cultivated over the years in service. Laying out his case over and over in various ways had required every ounce of his focus. Sixteen damned committee members, sixteen different presentations.

Five had capitulated easily and agreed it was the right thing to do, all of them either were current or had military experience and understood. Seven had taken a little effort to swing to his position; this was a mix of military and two civilians. Three more all civilian career politicians had been a very hard sell but eventually agreed. Tonight he had gotten number fifteen to finally agree.

But number sixteen refused to budge. She clearly had her own closeted agenda. He just needed to figure out what it was to determine how to proceed in order to get her to agree. She was a calculating and callous career politician with sights on moving from the House of Commons to the Senate.

McFergus had also suggested another line of attack that might completely circumvent the committee decision. He assigned a JAG lawyer to investigate the binding legality of Samuel's contract, being that it did not follow the normal terms of early release. But all this was taking so much time. He was still waiting for the JAG findings. Although preliminary reports indicated it was binding even though unique.

He had been very happy to hear the report from Zach that Samuel got his hearing back. Samuel's condition worried him so much and he wished he could be there. But at the moment this was far more important. This was Samuel's future he was working diligently to make happen.

Poor Zach was getting impatient wanting to tell the others Samuel's full condition. He knew that Zach was beleaguered with calls and texts, the boy could handle it but it would be tough. He should have told Zach why they couldn't give out more information before he left but some of the reasons were so highly classified that Zach did not have the necessary security level and he was not in SF.

The best he could come up with at the time with his sleep deprived mind was to simply order Zach not to communicate anything so as to not worry the family and friends because the condition was likely temporary and they were too far away to do anything but worry.

He hadn't expected to leave Samuel so soon. It had been very hard to do. Samuel had just woken up and he was in such a bad state with the light sensitivity and ringing in his ears. He couldn't even tell Samuel he was there or he would be back as soon as possible.

The C-in-C McFergus had arranged the meetings so expeditiously. When he got the call from McFergus he had to have the air controllers hold the departing plane on the tarmac for fifteen minutes until he could arrive in order to make it back in time to make the first meeting.

The General had wanted Mason, Winds and Zach to maintain a low profile but didn't have time to give instructions. He wanted them to stay well below the radar until Samuel could be transferred home. It had bothered him when Zach told him MPs were guarding outside the room. That could draw unwanted attention.

Samuel had enemies both terrorists in Afghanistan and still likely a few in SF. They had cleaned house in SF and JTF2 but there were always tentacles unseen.

William had learned his lesson well in that department with Corporal Merrill. That still stuck in his craw that the man had been so close to him and almost killed his son with no compunction at all. There were days he still wished he could pop off Merrill's head; prison was too good for him.

Christ he wished Samuel was able to travel right now. He desperately wanted to move him to a more secure location. But he wasn't able to fly due to the swelling. The doctor had said something about the pressure could cause more swelling and potentially permanent damage, something he could not risk. So he left him in the care of Mason, Winds and Zach.

He was glad that Winds and Mason were with him now, they would protect him. William knew they clearly understood without being told they were Samuel's first line of defense and he was placing him in their care when he left. He trusted them to keep him safe and they knew it.

So far so good. No threats had risen up yet. His analysts kept him apprised that there was no chatter in the back channels or the dark net on Samuel. Now if he could only sway this last member he could return to Samuel.

Then he could focus on getting him well enough to travel home. Please fate, don't be cruel to him now. Let me get this done for him and get him home safely.

William checked his watch 0130. Enough time to get four hours of sleep then back at it. He closed his eyes and fell into a light sleep.