Disclaimer – You recognise it, I don't own it.
1234567890
John led them out of the fortress and unerringly towards the garage.
"Does anyone know what a GPS tracking unit looks like?" John quietly addressed the group.
"I do." One stepped forward.
"There should be one under each vehicle." John instructed, "Disable them. We'll need three vehicles."
"Sure thing." The man nodded, "Any idea where on them?"
"Near the front axle?" John suggested, "Sorry, I fix people, not cars."
"And I fix cars not people," The man grinned, "Sure thing, Doc."
He slid under three of the trucks in the garage, while various people tried to find the keys.
"Done!" He dusted his hands off, as he kicked the equipment out of the way.
"Got the keys!" One of the local women held them up victorious.
"Alright." John looked around, "There's a compass in each of the bags. I'm fairly certain that the insurgents want to go their own way. You get one rucksack. There's one for every ten people. Mine contains medications and stuff like that, so it's basically useless. Take a truck and go."
"You won't stop us?" One of them frowned.
"Not you. Nor anyone else who chooses to go with you." John stated, "Though if you take five or more extra, I'll give you an extra rucksack. The injured woman is ours though. We're in no condition to stop you. Go. We won't follow."
"You can't speak for everyone here."
"I'm a Captain. Does anyone out-rank me?" John asked.
There was a long pause.
"I'll take that as a no." John declared, "So yes, I do. I speak for those here. Take yourselves and anyone who wishes to go with you and leave."
"You shouldn't be doing that." Alan pointed out.
"We don't have the men or the weapons to keep them under control." John chided, "And this way? We stand a better chance. We won't all be in the same basket. There's a possibility that they'll only chase one of us. And if they chase both, they'll have to split their forces."
"That's cold." Alan stared.
"It's practical." John countered.
It didn't take long for the insurgents to pick a vehicle from the three and they got in with some of the locals. In total seventeen of them were ready to go. John kept his promise of handing over an extra backpack.
The rest of the prisoners got into one of the two remaining trucks, John making sure that his patient was properly secured. Alan clearly wanted to stay close to John, so he hauled himself up into the passenger seat… John having claimed the driver's seat.
"All set?" John called out.
A round of positive agreements replied to him.
"Good." John chirped, "Here we go!"
He launched the vehicle into gear.
By disabling the tracking on three of the vehicles, John knew that it would cause some confusion if the truck was used. If a Cobra saw a vehicle that wasn't registering on their system's GPS they wouldn't know if it was a prisoner or an ally vehicle.
The insurgents had left the gate open, John drove through and then instructed that the gate should be shut.
No need to point out that the dead bodies were due to a breakout, instead of an invasion. Which was what John was expecting Cobra to think at first.
Of course that would be after they finished breaking out of the dorms.
"Those of you who can, try to sleep." John ordered, "There's some blankets in the rucksacks. Distribute. If you can't sleep just rest. We'll need it later."
"How the hell did you get hold of rucksacks, blankets and compasses?" Alan stared at John as the man drove further and further away from the fortress.
"Blankets were easy." John shrugged, "Space blankets. I put a request in. Managed to convince Cobra that I was preparing emergency kits for soldiers on patrol. Got me the rucksacks that way too… But the compasses would have tipped them off. So I made them."
"You made them? How?"
"I told you, my great uncle was in Colditz. He taught me how to make compasses. I just updated it."
"How?"
"He helped me. Found it amusing. It was a hobby of sorts. Him teaching me every trick and manufacturing skill used in Colditz. Even if he was just a compass maker, he knew the basics. But compasses were our main entertainment."
"You sneaky bastard. You had me completely fooled."
"That was the point. You couldn't tell what you didn't know. Old Gummy taught me that too. Loose lips."
"I'm not sure if I should be angry or impressed as hell, John. Or should I call you Spook?"
"Godammit Alan, I'm a Doctor not a Spook!" John laughed.
"You're crazy as they come, aren't you?" Alan breathed, grinning, "Oh well. I've known worse… I know worse."
For a while they drove in silence.
"Do you want me to take over?" Alan asked after about three hours.
"No time." John replied softly, in deference to the sleeping figures behind them, "Besides, I basically mainlined coffee before I started this escape… And visited the bathroom."
"John, do you have the time now to explain to me about how you kept mentioning your Oath… And yet did all of… All of that?"
"I, John Hamish Watson, swear by Almighty God that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, her heirs and successors and that I will as in duty bound honestly and faithfully defend Her Majesty, her heirs and successors in person, crown and dignity against all enemies and will observe and obey all orders of Her Majesty, her heirs and successors and of the generals and officers set over me."
"You sneaky bastard. I thought you meant the Hippocratic Oath."
"So did everyone." John shrugged, "Look, I try to separate the two parts of me. The Doctor and The Soldier. Most of the time both Oaths run in alignment. The job of a Captain is to bring his men home. The duty of a Doctor is to keep his patients alive. Both coincide with each other."
"And when The Soldier has to shoot someone?" Alan pressed.
"Do no harm." John replied, "The Hippocratic Oath doesn't say I have to treat anyone. It just says I should do no harm. I adapted the Wiccan Rede. 'If it harm none, do as ye will. If it harm some, do as you must.'. The Soldier can only harm to protect."
"You have a complicated mind-set."
"It's the only way I can make all parts of me work together."
"Parts of you? Please don't tell me you have MPD."
"No. I just am different people to different people. Like a brother to my sister. A Doctor to my patients. A soldier to my superiors. You know, standard stuff."
"Ah. The Clover Leaf." Alan nodded.
"Precisely." John agreed, "Any ideas of which way I should be going?"
"Second star to the right and straight on till morning?" Alan suggested.
"And when I want directions from Peter Pan, I'll ask for them." John sighed, "But, better than nothing."
John carried on driving. Slowly Alan started to nod off. Leaving John as the only awake member of the group.
123456789
"End of the line!" John called out, "Everybody out!"
"What?!" Alan jerked awake.
"We're out of gas." John laughed, "It's walking from here. Anyone know where we are? I'm a little lost."
"Men!" One of the local women sighed exaggeratedly, "Never want to stop for directions… There is an oasis that way."
"You're sure?" John pressed, "It all looks the same to me."
"I know the land." She nodded.
"Okay. Lead on." John got out of the truck, "And somebody help me with my patient."
Before long the group were up and ready to travel. It was about mid-afternoon. John wasn't too surprised that everyone had slept so long, they had clearly been worked hard with little sleep for a long time. The local woman, who declared that she wasn't going to give anyone her name, leading the rag-tag band.
However, just as she said, there was an oasis, about half a day's walk from where their fuel gave out.
John was glad to see the water. The coffee had worn off hours ago, pure adrenaline and late nights working shifts being the only thing keeping him going.
At least he could rest for a while… And check on his patient.
"She's starting to come round." John sighed in relief.
"Who is she?" Alan asked, from where he was squatted next to John.
"I don't know." John shrugged, "Important. American. A soldier. Tank Jockey, I heard. All I really know is that the Lieutenant thought she was important enough to ship to the Commander."
"Hey, Doc…" One of the soldiers wandered up to them.
"Call me John." John stated.
"I've never heard of a medic doing what you did. Thought medics were meant to only defend themselves. It's in the Geneva Convention, isn't it?"
"One, I rather doubt Cobra signed the Convention." John countered, "Two, it is also the Duty of every captured Officer to attempt escape. And three, medics are allowed to fight in defence of themselves or their patients. She is my patient. At the time of our escape, I had no other patients under my direct medical care. That is to say, none I was treating at the time. Sending her to Cobra Commander would be harmful to her, in my medical opinion. Everything after that was just attempting to keep my Oaths. And my Rede."
"You're a complicated man, John." The soldier smiled, "I like you. I'm Horatio. Of the 40 Commando."
"Marine, huh?" Alan laughed, "Should have guessed."
"Danny," Another put in, "Sapper. Specialty Bomb Disposal."
"Jack," A new face smiled, "National Gendarmerie."
"Shri. Ghurka."
"Mac. United States SEAL."
"Sansone. Aeronautica Militare."
Later John and Alan would find it highly amusing that although the military members of the group swapped designations and first names… Not one person offered their surname.
At least not then.
"So we're a real mixed bag." Alan snorted, "Military from three different continents."
"Mac, Malvolio, Felip, Adam, Sarah, Rick." John looked around the group, "Do you recognise her? I heard she was American."
"I know the face." Sarah sighed, "But I don't know why."
"She's familiar." Rick agreed, "But I've never met her."
"Well, we're no further forward in identifying her then." John breathed out, "Anyone injured? Anything at all. I'd rather no surprises."
A few of them volunteered minor injuries; sprained ankles, small cuts and the like. John went round treating all of them.
"Hey, looks like the Princess might wake up soon." Mac called out, while John was at the oasis' edge.
A moment later Mac was flat on his back, a black eye starting to develop.
"She hit me!" He yelped.
"And Barbie-girl's still asleep." Jack spoke in awe.
Then he was reeling back clutching his nose.
"Okay, new rule." Alan snorted, "No one nicknames her. She clearly doesn't like it."
"We have rules?" Rick frowned, "No one told me!"
"Yeah, we have rules." Alan nodded, "Rule One, we don't fight each other. Rule Two, John's in charge… Because he is a scary, scary guy."
"Amen!" Sansone agreed.
"Rule Three, no one nicknames Jane Doe." Alan declared.
"Rule Four," John added, "No one hides injuries. If you're hurt I want to know."
"I think I can remember those." Julian nodded, "My superiors usually tell me that I have difficulty remembering rules."
There was a large dose of amusement in Julian's voice, so most of the soldiers took the assumption that the Frenchman was a bit of a maverick.
"John," One of the locals came towards the Doctor, "There is a village not too far from here. I have traded there before. However they are not too friendly to foreigners. Nor do they have the technology to allow you to communicate with your people."
"Do you know where the nearest friendly military unit is?" John asked, "I'd prefer British. American is my next favourite. After that I'll take NATO."
"You would not want the French?" Jack sounded hurt, though whether that was because John was insulting his unit or because John was tending to his probably broken nose, no-one could tell.
"I don't have any influence there." John countered, "I have enough influence to get everyone treated to my standards."
"I do not know of any nearby fixed bases." The man stated, "But there is a city that way. I cannot remember how far. It should not be further than three days walk, though."
"We'll find it." Alan stated, "Will you be okay going to the village?"
"We will be fine… Doctor John?"
"Yes?"
"You have our thanks. And we will remember you. Though I doubt it will be of much use to you in the future, you will always have friends here."
"Even if I cannot find them?" John smiled, "I know what will happen, you'll walk away from here and the desert will swallow you."
"True. But you will still have our friendship."
"Be careful." John instructed, "Cobra will still be looking for us."
"We will."
That was the only reply and goodbye that the soldiers received. The locals picked themselves up and with one rucksack between the eight of them they walked into the evening haze.
The desert swallowed them.
Without chewing.
1234567890
Please Review.
For those of you who don't know about Colditz look it up. The history is highly amusing.
I would like to thank my followers and reviewers. Thank you.
Keltic Cat – Glad you think so. And Yo Joe!
IzzyDelta – Sorry. I like writing cliffies. And thanks for the cookies!
Gowvan – Glad you liked.
YYHfan-KB – Hope this didn't disappoint.
Kaykit – Thanks.
Photo100 – Doctor… Captain… Doesn't really matter. Still John.
Hjohn302 – Hope this was quick enough for you.
Guest – Thanks for the review.
Melrae – Welcome to the story. Thanks for caving.
GabrielsDoubt – You like what you found on Wikipedia?
Johnsarmylady – Thank you.
Once again thank you.