Starlight, always so bright, spilled abundantly through the small window, as if God had sent them some message that things would be ok, as if all of their prayers had been answered and people freed, like the Israelites from Egypt's rule. However, for Father Mulcahy and his new companion in their prison, Major Margaret Houlihan, he knew that things weren't going to be as good as he thought they would. He only had been in the major's tent for an hour now, but had spoken nothing and pretended to sleep, as if wearied from the ordeals that God had given him. He had closed his eyes and listened to Margaret's fast breathing for that hour, hearing one so anxious to know her fate.
If only she had more faith, then I could help her. Oh, if Major Houlihan had more faith like I did, then my job would be easier…
It could be worse for the unlikely duo. Both were uncomfortably chained to the other on the same bunk. No matter the jokes that Major Floyd had been saying around the camp about Hot Lips and the lonely priest, the two were obviously very miserable, but not in each other's company. In that one hour alone, though, the two realized that the stakes had gone up and they had to bet or lose the games. Interrogations had been tougher, they both knew. Rules had been stricter, especially with the guards. Worst of all, life and death seemed to be more than a pastime, but a reality to them. Russian Roulette, most certainly, had been the start, but was never the finish. Floyd had played more than that, but as always, God had provided and allowed the two to live.
And yet, the two also had one day left with the 4077th M*A*S*H. Major Floyd had deemed the two of them the leaders in the ring to kill off US spies and to bring back an un-American way of life, one containing Nazism or Communism, depending on the minute (and Floyd). That, Margaret, on the other side of the cot, knew, was treason and was punishable by death, as if the murder charges weren't under the same punishment. In Seoul, they can be easily convicted and shot in front of a firing squad within a few days.
And it had only been three days after Margaret's arrest still. She thought she had more time in the camp, but Floyd had cut it down from three days to one. It means that he was desperate to get the trial and execution going, intent to destroying her and the camp altogether.
We can't allow it to happen, but what else we can do? Oh, God, help me and Father Mulcahy get out of here before Seoul!
Margaret then saw that Father Mulcahy was awake in a way, but stiff from sitting up in the cot like she was, chained together as they were. Nighttime had given them more fears, she saw, but it was the one about them leaving for Seoul that had her dizzy with fear mostly. Even she saw that in Father Mulcahy's eyes when he saw her blue eyes running straight in to his. However, she also had an inkling, one that told her that he had also been praying just as much as she had, if not more so.
"Well, Major, I can't say I enjoy the situation we are in now, but I most certainly can say that the night is hot, although a little beautiful up there," Father Mulcahy started, to ease the tension a little as he pointed upward to the skies, his hand shaking as he did.
"What news do you have of the camp?" Margaret then asked, eager to know more about the outside world she was no longer a part of instead of how beautiful it was outside the plastic panes. "Father, I need to know, not stare outside and wish God would help us. I've prayed and contemplated and I need to take some action now. It's the only way I can help myself and the others. What's going on in the camp? What are the plans everyone seems to be making without consulting the other? I've heard nothing except what Major Floyd tells me or what I hear him tell his guards."
"There isn't a lot," Father Mulcahy revealed, seeking to comfort the major with the truth and not the lies he was ready to say. "A lot of people have been accused, along with us."
"That much I can heard already now, Father. But what else?"
"Well, did you hear about Hawkeye and Klinger?"
"Yes, yes, they've been captured by Floyd's men. What else, Father, what else?"
"BJ, Nurse Kellye and Major Winchester seem to have escaped."
Margaret made an impatient gesture with her hands, the chains shaking along with her. "Yes, yes, I know that, Father. Anything else?"
"Well, no. There hasn't been a lot of news lately. The war goes on, the wounded are gone and this camp has been turned into a no-go zone. Nobody is allowed in or out without Major Floyd's special permission."
"And the war news hasn't been good, has it?"
"We might be mobile soon, Major, but it won't bother us if we're going to Seoul the day after tomorrow. Or is it tomorrow?"
Margaret gulped audibly, visibly on the verge of tears.
"Now, now, Major, things will be fine." Father Mulcahy strained his arms and reached out to pat Margaret's hands, hers wringing each other tightly. "You know that we always survived trips like this. Surely, Major Floyd would allow us to go along if Colonel Potter had to move the camp? Surely, he would think of our safety, if we were prisoners?"
Margaret almost laughed at Father's Mulcahy's naivety and his constant hope in human nature, but kept her mouth trembling, showing fear instead of insane laughter or looking away, like she wanted to. "Perhaps, Father, but I doubt it. Major Floyd would rather take us to Seoul than bother Colonel Potter to build us a prison. We do have a court date, remember?"
"Oh, dear, you are right, Major. We have a date with the judge quite soon, don't we?"
"You aren't scared of that, are you, Father? Don't you think your own life would be ruined by an accusation like this?"
Hands still in Margaret's, Father Mulcahy looked quite honestly into his companion's eyes once more. "No, I am afraid of that. Of course, no human would admit to not feeling fear about their lives seeming to end, would they?"
"A fool," Margaret agreed.
"However, you know we have one judge," Father Mulcahy continued, looking up and then back to Margaret. "And I don't fear Him, Major. He is all that matters in our lives."
Margaret nodded, seeing the logic Father Mulcahy had, even if she didn't quite agree with it. Yes, she believed in God and that somehow, somewhere, that omnipresent presence would help people. However, having prayed for help and received nothing, Margaret was running out of energy to plead for something that would not happen, especially since the only person who believed in helping her was captured himself, last she heard. And she had so much depending on Hawkeye.
For all I know, Hawkeye and Klinger could be trapped in a prison and tortured. We, as a country, are not above doing that, especially when it concerns murder.
"I don't know if I am as reverent as you are in your prayers, Father, but you are a joy to have in this darkened world already," Margaret admitted, finally gripping the Padre's hands back.
"You have asked for help from Him?" Father Mulcahy again inclined his eyes upward.
"In a manner of speaking, yes, I did ask for some help." Margaret seemed a little embarrassed to admit it, but she knew that, in order to be helped by someone, even from a person could not offer a hand, she had to be truthful. "I have to believe in something, Father. We all do, I guess."
Before Father Mulcahy could reply, there was some noise outside and then a friendly knock on the door, a familiar, young voice behind it. "Message for Major Houlihan and Father Mulcahy."
Margaret sighed and raised her eyebrows as she quickly disengaged her hands from Father Mulcahy's before calling out. "Come in, if you dare."
Immediately, Radar came in as the guards admitted him, beaming with pride. Carrying some paperwork, he appeared to be the normal clerk everyone sees him as. However, he also appeared like something good had happened for once and that something was about to happen in their favor.
"Radar, what's the matter?" Father Mulcahy asked incredulously, seeing the happiness in the young man's face. "Has something happened?"
"Father, Major, I don't know how to say this, but I think we have something to help us," Radar began in a whisper, breathless with anticipation and enthusiastic to tell the two about what he and Colonel Potter had found. "We – well, me and Colonel Potter, but mostly Colonel Potter calling around – did some digging and we found Major Floyd's file and –"
"Radar, you know you can't do that," Margaret interrupted rudely, but quietly. "It's against Army regulations."
"For once, Major, I think we should let Radar finish, regulations or not," Father Mulcahy said, nodding to Radar. "Go ahead, Radar. Tell us what's going on."
"Well, we found out something about Major Floyd that we didn't expect really," Radar replied softly, suddenly interested about the guards at the door and who was listening and not.
"And what's that?" Margaret then asked, inpatient to know what they had on Floyd that was suddenly so interesting.
"Major Floyd was originally named Major Ploid," Radar revealed, becoming more excited as he spilled the news. "His dad was shot for being a spy in Europe and was blamed by Nurse Curtis' dad, who was also blamed for being a…traitor, I think Colonel Potter said it was."
"And?" Margaret almost yelled, calmed down by Father Mulcahy.
"The person who found out about it was your dad, Major," Radar added. "Your dad accused Nurse Curtis' dad of treason – or, that's what Colonel Potter called it – and then he accused Major Floyd's dad and he was shot."
"Major Floyd changed his name?" Father Mulcahy mused out loud. "He changed his name after a disastrous personal event in his life and has been plotting some revenge?"
"Perhaps for years," Margaret added, disheartened as she sank further into her cot with shame at the truth. "Major Floyd was planning his revenge on my family for years for what my father and Nurse Curtis' father did to his."