After eating lunch on the day of their departure to Seoul, Margaret turned around and kept staring out of her window, possibly the last she would see of it. Even though she could barely see anything now, since Major Floyd had put in more plastic on the windowpanes themselves, she could make out figures and barely make out faces. It was useless, she knew this whole time, but it passed the time, especially since she too sensed a change in the air. And it wasn't for the worst, she thought. Life in camp had seemed to have stopped while she was in captivity. Now, on this hotter afternoon, it was getting back to normal almost.

"Father, do you see this?" Margaret asked, excited for the first time in days. "Do you see this?"

"What is it, Major?" Father Mulcahy looked up from his private meditations, the Bible that was left to him this morning (by Sergeant Gaines, of all people), and smiled. "What do you see?"

"Look! The camp! It's almost as if nothing had happened. Things are going back to what they're supposed to be, except I don't see any wounded."

"Let me have a glimpse." Father Mulcahy shuffled his chains and handcuffs around with Margaret and exchanged places with her. Adjusting his glasses and squinting, he saw that, for the first time since Major Floyd had been in the camp, people were walking with confidence and talking with each other.

"I do see a noted dissimilarity from days passed," Father Mulcahy conceded, "but I don't know why."

"Faith?" Margaret suggested, which seemed to be the word of the day.

"Perhaps, Major, but don't be so hasty. It could be because we are leaving soon."

Margaret's shoulders drooped in despair, tears threatening to come down her cheeks. She was hoping, so hoping for a last minute rescue…

Father Mulcahy soon saw this and managed to crisscross around the bed and sit down next to Margaret. "There, there now, Major. Have a little more faith."

"With what?" Margaret asked bitterly. "I had some when I woke up this morning. I had some when I saw what was outside. Now, you're dashing it!"

"Not on purpose, no," Father Mulcahy soothed. "I was thinking of…other possibilities. I'm sure that this will be straightened out, like I said. I'm sure many people will come through for us."

"You say that like it's going to be happen soon, Father."

"Because He is always telling me to have it." Father Mulcahy pointed to the tent ceiling.

Margaret wanted to roll her eyes, blame God in front of the priest, but denied her eyes and her tongue the chance to lash out its whip. She was tired of hearing about faith, tired of being hopeful, but to hear that perhaps the camp was getting back to normal was because of their leaving was a blow to her heart. She thought that Hawkeye and Klinger would have been here by now. Sure, they had been captured, but escape was always the key (in Klinger's case, of course). Where were they and what was taking them so long?

Why do I feel like a princess, caught in a castle and guarded by dragons? Would it take so many years just to find me? Am I to sleep for a hundred years, waiting for a kiss that would never come? Or am I to linger in a deathly sleep until I am truly dead?

Suddenly, the door opened. The two had stopped being so close, showing their guards their mutual respect and space, but Margaret truly rolled her eyes when she saw Sergeants Gaines and Pyle, the two disrespectful ones she had heard. It had seemed more than a century ago, she thought, when she heard their conversations with themselves and Major Floyd, when she started to pray for some help, some sort of mercy. They were the ones who were so keen on mocking the people on the front lines.

"Major, Father, good afternoon," Pyle began in a deferential sort of way.

"What do you want?" Margaret sneered, gaining a warning hand to her arm by Father Mulcahy.

Gaines looked left and right and then opened the door, as if to check for something outside. Then, he closed the door slowly and looked at the two prisoners. He was not sure of what to say, or how to say it, so he nudged Pyle with his elbow. Pyle, in turn, rubbed the arm that Gaines had decided to poke, and only would look at the two with some pity, a lot of sympathy. Then, before Margaret could get into another tirade, he started to speak.

"Look, we don't have much time here," Pyle began. "You both are going to be heading to Seoul with Major Floyd within half an hour. It's sixteen hundred hours right now. Men are on their way."

"For what, Sergeant?" Father Mulcahy asked, confused by the worried faces the two sergeants had been wearing.

"Major Floyd has made a grave mistake," Pyle continued as a reply. "We found the evidence to convict him of murder himself. If the men would get here in time, everyone here would be freed."

Margaret would only gape in astonishment. It would only take moments really, but she could be liberated today, even without Hawkeye and Klinger being there. She would be cleared of all charges and continue her career as an Army officer. Life would go on, without a conviction over her head or her life ruined. This would be erased from her records, like it all never happened.

Like these days will be erased. They will never see a history log or book ever.

"Major Floyd…murdered those people?" Father Mulcahy asked slowly, to clarify what was going on and what Radar had told them both beforehand. "He framed us?"

"Yes, and he is willing to kill more," Gaines confirmed. "He tried getting to the company clerk there, after he found out what Colonel Potter had him do. And he has a list of more people to take with him to Seoul. More likely, he would kill you all before getting to Seoul or rejoice in a show trial."

Margaret gasped in horror, more angry than surprised or upset. "I'll get him myself!" she promised, making both Gaines and Pyle believe that she was more than willing to murder.

"Hold it, Major," Pyle said. "The men from Seoul should be here soon. Calm down now. I'm sure we can delay Major Floyd before they get there. I'm positive you will be free no later than dinner tonight."

Gaines then tapped on his watch on his wrist. "We better get going. Major Floyd is going to be here soon to get them ready for Seoul."

"Then, how do you propose to delay this?" Margaret asked sarcastically.

"Gaines, Pyle, are you in there?" Floyd's voice was heard outside the door. When he opened it, he saw everyone inside that he needed to see. "Good, good. Now, Wellington and Wright are readying the jeeps now. We don't need the camp MP's. It'll be enough to have the four of you guard the new prisoners."

"And when are we going?" Gaines asked, playing stupid and gaining more time. "I thought we had to wait until dinnertime to go."

"We have new prisoners to round up, Sergeant," Floyd growled, making Margaret cringe when remembering her interrogations with him. "I still have not heard back yet from that kitchen assistant, so you, Pyle, can check in on him please. Gaines, get the rest of them. You know who they are. Wright will assist you. Wellington will watch the priest when we leave. I'll take Major Houlihan myself."

Margaret was confused until she quickly understood the meaning behind his words. He's going to kill me. He's going to get me someplace remote, claim I was attacking him in a fit of rage, and kill me in self-defense.

Major Floyd then unlocked Margaret from Father Mulcahy and quickly dragged her up by the chains, taking her outside by holding her by the middle of her handcuffs. While some in the camp took some time to gape at the major getting dragged to a jeep by the Motor Pool, Major Floyd had other plans. While he motioned that everyone move on and to not avoid Army business, he directed Margaret to another jeep she saw in the distance, towards the back of the camp.

It was near the woods where Nurse Curtis' bloody trail led the searchers to her body.

"You murdered them," Margaret said, gritting her teeth in pain as Floyd pulled her harder and she put her heels into the ground in a fight to the death. "You blamed me."

"What would make you think a thing like that, Major Houlihan?" Floyd asked her as he pulled harder on the chains, indifferent to her procrastinating attitude as they swung around his wrists. "You've been accused of murder and conspiracy with others in the camp. You tell me how I supposedly murdered a nurse, and perhaps an orderly, and blamed you."

"You have a vendetta against my family," Margaret spat out, spinning Floyd in circles with her chains as she too pulled harder to be free from the tyranny. "Your daddy got in trouble for some reason because of mine and now, you're after me. After years of madness, you finally got me, pinned a murder on me that I did not commit and blamed conspiracy on a camp with a good reputation. Where do you come off blaming an Army career woman like that, Major? What balls do you have on keeping this one locked up?"

After twisting and turning for five seconds more, Margaret liberated herself from Floyd and ran to the only place she could feel safe. The doors to Colonel Potter's office were close, but yet so far away. With her running that small distance, she knew she could make it without Floyd catching up to her. She was going to be in the most neutral zone she'll ever be in and then have a chance to reinstate her rights as an officer. She had the ability to not be a frightened prisoner anymore.

Angry and sputtering out curses as his hand spun red welts, Floyd saw where Margaret was going and quickly took out a gun, aiming at the back of her head. He knew that this was somehow going to end this way, but not the way he intended it to. Already, the camp was now watching him with colder eyes now, closing in on him even though orders were said to keep away. Nurses coming out of the shower, orderlies with now nothing to do, no wounded men from the front on his orders…it was all because of him. And now, he was pulling out a gun and aiming it at the woman who accused him of the murder committed and of the disappearance of another.

"Get away, all of you!" Floyd yelled. "There is a dangerous woman over there, a murderess!"

Before anyone could do anything, a gunshot was suddenly fired.