The Zeus Raid Part 2

by SassyScot

Begins immediately following the Zeus Raid. The Rats need a better distraction for Dietrich as they photograph secret plans.

I guess I'm supposed to state I don't own the Rat Patrol characters except the ones I created and have not received any payment for my stories. I've tried to upload additional chapters to my original, The Zeus Raid story but can't seem to get it to publish so I'm going to try doing a separate sequel. Hope it works. Thanks for your support.

The Zeus Raid Part 2

(takes place immediately following The Zeus Raid)

"Please call me, Isla," she corrected Hitch, smiling at his nickname for her.

"This is," Hitch continued the introduction. "Sergeant Troy, Sergeant Moffitt and Private Pettigrew."

"Tully, ma'am," the private corrected. Hitch held the chair for Isla, and they sat down. Remy brought four beers and a glass of wine and lit the candles on the table.

"Remy," she said, "would there be room for my guard detail to sit and share in our dinner?"

"I will take care of it immediately," Remy answered and directed a small table and two chairs set in the corner.

"Mark has told me a great deal about you in his letters. I am so excited to meet you," she said in a melodious voice tinged with a soft Scottish accent. Let me get a good look. Hm, Sergeant Troy: strong, forceful, commanding, devilishly handsome, piercing blue eyes, and very sexy."

"Oh no," Hitch said softly, hanging his head.

"I'll bet you have to beat them off with a stick," she continued.

"No, that would be Hitch," Troy smiled.

"Oh, don't tell me, my boy is still tomcatting about?" she pretended to be shocked, and Hitch hung his head lower, blushing in the process. Troy burst out laughing while Moffitt and Tully choked on their beer.

"Tully," she continued her analysis. "Quiet, wise, rugged country boy good looks, soulful eyes, southern drawl that makes women melt." Tully actually blushed a little and hurriedly sipped his mug of beer.

"And Sergeant Moffitt," she paused and examined him more closely, "Woof," she said sexily, "I say, you are quite scrummy. Dreamy eyes and hair, lovely, British accent that makes a woman shiver inside. Yes, you are indeed a very special group of men, and I am absolutely thrilled to finally meet you."

"You must forgive us, ma'am. Hitch, or Mark, has never even hinted about you. Your presence is a surprise, a very pleasant one, I must say," Troy said.

"He wouldn't," she confirmed, "we're each other's secret in

many ways. Lots of people don't understand how a man and a woman can just be friends."

"Especially when the man is Hitch," Moffitt added.

"So, still the tomcat?" she addressed Mark whose grin was even bigger.

"No more than usual," he kidded. "Maybe a little less, not as many women available."

"Yeah, and he's learned the hard way to leave the native women alone," Tully piped up.

"Well, that sounds like quite a story," she remarked.

"Later," Hitch answered.

"So, when you were wounded," she indicted the gauze bandage, "Did they give you antibiotics for infection?"

"Yeah, both sulfa and penicillin," he said.

"Good, I'm sure that took care of any other nasty little germs you may have swimming about in you," she innocently sipped her wine. Mark dropped his head and shook it gently murmuring "Ah, Zu's" under his breath. The other men cleared their throats, slightly shocked at her candor, and then laughed at Hitch's embarrassment.

"So, how long have you known each other, how did you meet, and all those other informational questions," Moffitt asked.

"We've known each other from birth, I guess," Hitch said. "Our parents are really close friends, and we grew up as family, really."

"We've always had a close relationship and been friends while growing up. He knows everything about me, and I know pretty much everything about him. However, I can't account for his behavior since he enlisted," Isla explained.

"When I was in high school and college, she would write fake steamy love letters that I could show to the guys in my dorm, it really increased my reputation." Hitch smiled.

"And he would do the same for me. I was highly regarded as an expert in boys," she laughed. "He helped me through every higher math class I ever had and taught me a bit of self-defense in case I ever dated someone like him."

"She lived a year in France, so she got me through French," Hitch admitted, "and taught me to dance and how to talk to girls."

"I also taught you how to treat them well and respectfully," she interrupted. "I hope you are heeding my teachings."

"For the most part," Hitch teased. "She got me started with archery and listened when I would rant about my father."

"He taught me how to drive, change a flat tire, check the oil and radiator and how to remove the rotor so I could fake a car that wouldn't start."

"And that's important, how?" Troy was enjoying the conversation.

"Whenever I wanted to stay out beyond my curfew, I would remove a rotor and call my dad to say my car wouldn't start. He knows nothing about mechanics. He would say he was coming to get me, and I would say, 'it's okay Dad, Mark's here. I'll have him fix it and I was free to stay out as late as I wanted."

"But that eventually backfired," Hitch reminded her, and she nodded.

"After too many times, my father was concerned I might get stranded somewhere unsavory, so he bought me a new car. I couldn't very well pretend I was having trouble after that."

Two servers came to the table carrying trays of food. They placed plates in front of each one, brought more beers, filled water glasses, and left.

"Wow," Tully was impressed. "I haven't had steak since I left the states," he said. There were baked potatoes with actual butter and sour cream and string beans to go along with the steaks.

"This is my treat," Isla said, "to thank you for taking such good care of my boy."

"He takes good care of us, as well," Moffitt said. They began eating and savoring each bite.

"I don't know how you did this, Isla," Troy said, "but thank you for the best meal we've had in years."

"You are very welcome," she said simply and beamed at them. "So, I know you've all had commando training in addition to your regular instruction. Are there any new skills that my boy has learned while here, other than staying away from the native women?" she asked jokingly.

"He's become our best cook," Troy said.

"You're kidding," she was astonished. "Mark? Cooking? I'm all agog."

"He makes coffee the way Sarge likes it," Tully commented, "Strong enough to walk around on its own." She laughed.

"He's our go-to guy for ordnance and blowing up things," Moffitt added.

"Well, he has lots of experience in that area," she said with a teasing smile and Hitch let out a long sigh and bowed his head again.

"This sounds like a story we have to hear," Troy encouraged her.

"And one she's not obligated to tell," Hitch tried to make light of her statement. "It wasn't that bad."

"I had to wear gloves for a month," she said with mock anger.

"Oh, well, there is that" he said embarrassed.

"Yes, that," she continued. "But my Granny Mac taught you a lesson."

"Yeah, I learned she wasn't the sweet little granny who always had butterscotch candy in her purse like I thought she was," Hitch responded.

"What do you do?" Moffitt was intrigued and Hitch hesitated to reply.

"It was a misunderstanding," he began.

"You blew up her potting shed!" Isla accused.

"What?" the three men said in unison with a laugh.

"We were all at my Granny Mac's house on Cape Cod for the 4th of July weekend. It's a yearly gathering between our families and we have lots of fun. Mark decided he needed more fun than the rest of us and smuggled in a lot of fireworks he had no business having," Isla told the story. "He hid them in Granny's potting shed but couldn't resist setting off some firecrackers before leaving the rest for later. He heard Granny Mac coming and he skedaddled out of the shed, throwing away the lit firecrackers in his haste to get away. They ended up in the shed, setting off his illicit stash. The shed literally blew up and burst into flames."

"And you handle ordnance for us?" Troy looked at his private.

"I was only about 9 years old," Hitch said. "And I learned my lesson. She tanned my backside, good."

"So, you decided to get back at her," Isla continued. "He put some cherry kool-aid in her kitchen sink tap, thinking he would dye her hands. But I'm the one that used the sink first and my hands were turned a lovely shade of red."

"It wore off," Hitch added.

"I wore white gloves for a month!" she was indignant. "It was fine for my dance recital, since my costumes had gloves, but I had a harp recital as well. There I was dressed in my Sunday finest with red hands! It was so embarrassing." She rolled her eyes and smiled.

"They matched your dress," he commented.

"He's pulled that stunt on a number of men here, although he put it in the shower heads," Moffitt shared. "We're always on the alert when these two," he indicated Hitch and Tully, "have free time or get bored. It's certainly never dull."

"So why does Hitch call you, Zu-Zu?" Tully asked nonchalantly, changing the subject.

"My middle name is Susanna, so, Zu-Zu for short. Mark is the only one allowed to call me that," she replied.

"Wait a minute," Tully stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Is he the one you referred to as 'Tadpole?'"

"Yes, he is," she said, and Hitch gave her a warning glance. But I'm the only one allowed to call him that and I hope you will not take that from me."

"No, ma'am," Tully assured her. "Why Tadpole?"

She caught Mark's eye and replied, "That's between Mark and me. It's up to him to share that information when and if he so desires."

"Yes, ma'am," Tully agreed and returned to enjoying his steak while trying to think of a way to tease his friend about being Tadpole.

"So, how long have you known she was coming?" Troy asked.

"I got a letter several weeks ago, the one you all kept teasing me about. She told me she was with the USO show and I was hoping to have the chance for you to meet each other."

"We were all intrigued by your perfume. It quite swept us away with its intoxicating fragrance," Moffitt explained.

"Chanel No. 5," she answered sexily, "my signature scent." Hitch grinned at her response. The pride on his face was inescapable and the three men could see the deep affection between the two, but no sign of any romance.

There was real chocolate cake for dessert, with thick, rich, fudge frosting. It was obvious the patrol was relishing every bite.

"That was smashing," Moffitt said appreciatively as he drank his after-dinner tea. "Thank you so much for such a sumptuous feast."

"I hope we can find a way of showing our appreciation," Troy concurred.

"Well," she said slowly and thoughtfully, "since my boy is injured, I don't think he's up for a Lindy Hop but it would be lovely if some brave soul would ask me to dance."

"Are you sure you're not too tired from all the dancing you did in the show?" Troy questioned.

"She never, ever gets tired of dancing," Hitch remarked. Troy took the hint, stood, and held out his hand to Isla,

"I think I can manage a decent Foxtrot," he said and led her to the dance floor. "I'm a bit nervous having such an accomplished dancer for a partner," he confessed as they began to dance..

"There's nothing to it, Sergeant," she smiled at him.

"Sam. I'm glad Hitch has you as a friend," Troy said. "He's hurting, ma'am."

"From the wound?" she was concerned.

"From how he got it," Troy quickly explained about Meekin, the rescue and ride back to the base, the recent nightmares.

"Do you think it will help if I speak with him, Sam?" she asked.

"Yes," Troy replied. The music stopped and they politely clapped before making their way back to the table. Hitch had started to explain to the others how he and Isla were one another's preferred date to dances and parties.

"We would go out together with the understanding that if we found someone we wanted to spend time with, the other would get lost. It was great," he said.

"My parents trusted Hitch implicitly and knew I would come to no harm if he was with me," Isla added.

"And my parents knew she would watch and keep me out of trouble," Hitch finished. A new record began.

"Oh, a tango," Isla said dreamily. "What a pity I never got around to teaching you," she said to Hitch. Moffitt stood and held out his hand,

"I believe I might be able to fill the bill," he said and the two headed to the dance floor. "I'm happy Hitch has a friend like you, someone he can speak freely with" Moffitt continued. "He's suffering, ma'am."

"Sam told me about Meekin, Sergeant," she said.

"Jack," he insisted. "I hope you will have a chance to talk with him. I think he will listen to you." Their tango was spirited, and Moffitt proved himself to be no slouch. They ended up with a circle of onlookers around them who applauded when they finished.

Once back at the table, Troy asked, "How long will you be on base?"

"The rest of the troupe is heading for Morocco in the morning for a little rest. Then we have performances along the coast before heading to Italy and then back to France. I'm staying behind for a week to rest here and hopefully spend whatever free time Mark has with him.

At that point, Captain Boggs approached their table. The four men leapt to their feet and saluted. Hitch gripped the table and willed himself not to give in to the dizziness and nausea. Boggs returned the salute and said, "As you were," The men sat down and Boggs continued, "Miss MacKenzie, it's good to see you again. I wanted to thank you for your performance and let you know how much I enjoyed it. You're very talented.

"Thank you, Captain, it was an honor. Thank you for your help in arranging all this" she said smiling and indicating the table.

"It was my pleasure," the captain returned her smile then turned to address the men. "Sergeant Troy will you and your men come to my office at 10:00 tomorrow morning. General Gleason would like to speak with Private Hitchcock. Wear your dress uniforms."

"Yes, sir," Troy replied and as the captain walked away, the three Rats turned to their youngest member and said as one, "What did you do, Hitch?"

"Honest, Sarge, I have NO idea," Hitch was genuinely stunned, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "I was in the hospital, under surveillance by dozens of nurses and doctors. I didn't have the opportunity to get into trouble even if I'd tried."

"But you admit you got bored?" Troy said.

"Yeah, but," Hitch began, and Isla interrupted asking,

"What did you do, Mark?"

"I'm telling the truth. I can't imagine why the general wants to speak with me." Hitch was apprehensive just thinking of such a thing. A boogie woogie tune began playing. Tully stood up and offered his hand to Isla,

"Would you care to try a Lindy Hop with me, ma'am? I'll try not to damage your toes too much," Tully decided to take the heat off Hitch. As they made their way to the dance floor, Tully said, "Hitch is like a brother to me. I'm glad he has you as a friend. He's in pain, ma'am," It was hard to have a conversation with the loud music and flying limbs. At the end of the dance, Isla thanked Tully for his concern for Mark and told him she knew about Meekin. She promised to speak with her dear friend, and they returned to the table.

The entire bar suddenly grew silent, and soldiers jumped to their feet. The record player was silenced as Colonel Quint walked through the front door. The Rat Patrol got to their feet, Hitch using caution and standing slowly. The colonel came straight to their table.

"Sergeant Troy," he returned their salute. "Has Captain Boggs told you General Gleason wants to see your patrol in his office at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir," Troy replied, "he said you wished to speak with Private Hitchcock."

"Correct," he glanced at Hitch and turned to address Isla. "I enjoyed your performance very much, Miss MacKenzie. I understand you're going to be with us for a few days. You are a very welcome presence."

"Thank you, colonel, I am truly honored to be here," she flashed him a dazzling smile. The Rats thought there probably wasn't anything she couldn't get a man to do with that smile.

"As you were," the colonel said and walked away. They sat down and turned to look at Hitch who seemed baffled.

"I swear, Sarge, I haven't done anything wrong." Hitch protested. "Who was there, you or me?"

"I guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow and see what unfolds," Moffitt said apprehensively.

"Will you guys bring my uniform to the hospital in the morning," Hitch asked.

"Sure thing," Tully assured him.

"So, tell me," Isla picked up the conversation, "why do you wear such non-regulation headgear?" she indicated their hats on the table. "I would think the brass would frown upon such an infraction."

"We're a commando unit, ma'am, a very well-known commando unit with a reputation for getting the job done," Troy explained. "Other patrols were being targeted because the Germans thought they were us. There's a price on our heads for being good at what we do, and we didn't want anyone else to suffer because of that. Moffitt's beret is from his time with the Scotch Greys. I served with Australian troops for a while and earned the right to wear my slouch hat. Hitch spent some time with the French legion, teaching them how to blow things up," he smiled and looked at his driver. "They gave him the kepi as a reminder. Tully wears a regulation combat helmet. The hats set us apart from other units in an effort to keep them safer."

"I see," she said quietly. Her eyes had grown large, and she looked concerned when Troy mentioned the price on their heads. "Well, I think you all look smashing!"

"Tell us about yourself, Isla," Moffitt encouraged. "How did you come to be here with the USO."

"It's nothing special," she shrugged. "I knew Mark was going to enlist as soon as he turned eighteen. He ran off to boot camp and I ran off to the Rockettes. After Pearl Harbor and the U.S. entering the war, I knew I wanted to do something to help. I did some war bond rallies and then decided to try the USO. Before I was assigned to a performance group, I was entertaining at a party at the home of Mark's parents, to raise money for the war effort.

One of the guests was in the recording business and when he heard me sing, he offered to record a demo. I had the idea to take an upbeat song and sing it slow, and throaty. It was a lark. To my great astonishment, it became a hit and suddenly I had a following and the rest, as they say, is history. It's certainly not a path I ever thought I would go down. I just wanted to dance."

"Which do you prefer," Moffitt asked, "tap or ballet? You did both quite well in the show tonight."

"My heart is in the ballet," she admitted, "but I enjoy tap and I really like being a Rockette."

"Why don't you pursue the ballet?" Moffitt was curious.

"I've been in several productions in New York, usually in the corps de ballet, which is fine. I don't really have any desire to be a prima ballerina. My height works against me. It's hard to find a male partner as tall as I am on pointe," she explained.

"I wish you had done the swan one tonight. I swear, guys, she does this dying swan dance that will practically bring tears to your eyes," Hitch said proudly.

"I hope we will have the opportunity to see it sometime," Troy agreed.

One of Isla's guards stepped forward, looked at his wristwatch and said, "Excuse me, Miss MacKenzie, but our orders are to have you back to your quarters by midnight. It's 11:30 now."

"Thank you, private," she said.

"Hitch is Cinderella tonight, too," Troy added. "Technically, he's still a patient and we have to get him back by midnight."

"Before we leave, I'd like to do one thing," she rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a camera.

"I should have known," Hitch laughed. "I don't think she ever goes anywhere without it."

"I like to preserve memories. Would you mind posing for a photo with me?" she asked. Of course, they agreed, and one of her guards took the picture.

"Where are your quarters, anyway?" Hitch asked.

"Tonight, I'm bunking in with the rest of my troupe in the building next to where we performed. Tomorrow, I'm moving into headquarters as Captain Boggs' guest."

"We'll walk you back, if that's okay?" Hitch said and she took his arm. The two walked ahead of the others and talked softly.

"It's so great seeing you," Hitch said. "I didn't realize how much I've missed you."

"Same here," she agreed. "I'll come visit you in the hospital tomorrow after you meet with the general, that is if you're not locked up in the stockade,"

"I give you my word, Zu-Zu, I can't be in any trouble, I didn't do anything wrong," he insisted.

"I'll say an extra prayer for you," she teased. "I'll be doing my usual warm-ups in the morning, then I'll hunt you down." They reached the door of her makeshift quarters and kissed each other on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Zu-Zu," Hitch said with a huge smile.

"Goodnight, Tadpole," she returned the smile and said goodnight to the other Rats. The guards made sure she entered the building, and the Rats went on their way.

They said goodnight to Hitch at the hospital entrance. Troy looked at his driver and said,

"Hitch, if you ever get the opportunity and she'll have you, you need to marry that girl."

"Hear, Hear," Moffitt agreed.

"Oh, yeah," added Tully.

"Guys," Hitch rolled his eyes in exasperation, "It's not like that at all."

As they walked away, Troy quietly said to Moffitt and Tully, "Yet." They shared a smile and walked to their quarters.

Chapter 2

The next morning, they had a quick breakfast in the mess hall before getting cleaned up and into their dress uniforms. They gathered Hitch's gear and set off for the hospital. Hitch was pacing and furiously chewing his gum. Tully grabbed his friend's boots and gave them a quick shine while Hitch changed.

"Why would the general want to see me?" Hitch asked, his hands shaking as he tried to tie his tie.

"Here, let me help," Moffat stepped in.

"No idea," Troy said, "Guess we'll find out soon enough." Hitch tucked his shirt into his pants and ran his belt through the loops. He sat down on the bed to put on his boots.

"Take it easy, Hitch," you're making me nervous just watching you," Tully slapped his friend on the back. Hitch sat up straight and began to cough.

"What's wrong," Moffat asked, reaching for the water jug on the bedside table. He handed a cup to Hitch who took a drink and sputtered,

"I swallowed my gum." He put on his jacket, took the garrison cap in his hands and they left the hospital together.

They were ushered into Captain Boggs' office where they faced their commander, Colonel Quint, General Gleason, an unfamiliar British officer and surprisingly, Isla who sat to the side. The men saluted and were told to be "at ease." General Gleason stood and spoke,

"Sergeant Troy, I confess I look forward to reading your reports as they are passed to me. I find your exploits read like an action novel. Your unit has exhibited great cunning, superb skill, undaunting courage and a determination to successfully complete your missions. You are, without a doubt, the best patrol we have in action and the most effective weapon we have in our armory. I am proud to have you under my command. The four officers came to the front of the desk, standing in front of the four rats. Each held a box in their hand.

"Sergeant Troy, Private Hitchcock. and Private Pettigrew, each of you have already been awarded the Bronze Star for your units' actions in previous campaigns and assignments. Sergeant Moffitt has received the Distinguished Service Medal. It is my honor today, on behalf of the United States Army, to present you with the Silver Star for meritorious service." The three American officers pinned the medals on the three American soldiers.

"On behalf of his majesty, King George VI and the British Army, it is my honor and privilege to present you with the Distinguished Conduct Medal," the British officer, Major Atkins, pinned the award on Moffitt's uniform.

The men saluted the officers and tried to keep the astonishment and discomfort off their faces. The Silver Star was the highest honor the Army could bestow, second only to the Medal of Honor. The officers returned to chairs behind the desk and the soldiers were told to take a seat. They sat, wondering what was coming next. They didn't have long to wait. General Gleason again spoke,

"Private Hitchcock," Hitch stood at attention. "I understand that you are particularly opposed to being promoted, even to Corporal."

"Yes, sir," Hitch responded.

"Even though, with your college education, you could have entered the Army as an officer," the general continued.

"That is correct, sir," Hitch affirmed.

"Can you tell me why?" the general asked.

"Yes, sir." Hitch spoke firmly. "I am very content doing what I do, sir. We are a good team and I believe my skills are put to good use. We work together well, and it is my belief a promotion would upset the balance we have worked hard to develop. I have no wish to be an officer."

"I respect your wishes, Private, even though I feel you would make an outstanding officer. I would like to give you a promotion for what you have done for me, personally," the general said, much to Hitch's confusion. "Instead, I am placing a commendation for meritorious service in your file and thank you for saving my son's life."

"Begging your pardon, sir," Hitch was puzzled, "I don't understand. I don't believe I've met your son. How could I have saved his life?"

"You are not aware that Lt. Weatherly is my son?" the general asked.

"No sir, I had no idea," Hitch confessed.

"For personal reasons, he is registered with the Army under his mother's maiden name, to avoid any preferential treatment."

"Excuse me, General," Troy stood and spoke, "May I ask how my private saved your son's life?"

"You are not aware of what Private Hitchcock did while a patient in the hospital?" the general asked.

"No sir, we were on patrol until yesterday afternoon and then we attended the USO show last night. We haven't had a chance to hear about Private Hitchcock's actions."

"Both of you, take your seats," the general responded. "You should be very proud of your man, Sergeant Troy. My son was gravely wounded and had great difficulty breathing. When Private Hitchcock discovered this, he designed and built an iron lung to breathe for my son while he heals." Troy, Moffitt, and Tully were surprised and visibly impressed with what Hitch had accomplished. In her chair, Isla was practically bursting with pride.

"I am eternally grateful to you Private Hitchcock and I believe the doctor is going to release you from the hospital when you return. I understand you have a friend visiting the base at this time," he glanced at Isla. "I am granting each of you a 72-hour leave. and I hope you use it well." The four rats stood and saluted the officers. General Gleason shook Hitch's hand and thanked him again. A photographer from Stars and Stripes entered the office and took several posed photographs of the men receiving their medals and immediately left.

Troy, Moffitt, Hitch, Tully, and Isla walked out of headquarters and Isla gave them each a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I am so proud of each of you, and you," she hugged Hitch tighter, "most of all. I forgive you for turning my hands red," she was glowing. Her bodyguards joined them as they walked to the hospital.

They checked out Hitch's creation and congratulated him on a job well done. The doctor approached when they returned to Hitch's bed, and informed them, "I'm releasing him into your care and clearing him for very light work. He's still running a low-grade fever, so I want you to monitor him and if it rises, bring him back," he handed a thermometer to Troy. "He's to take these antibiotics four times a day; make sure he gets lots of rest and doesn't overdo. As soon as the fever is gone and he no longer gets dizzy, I'll approve him for active duty."

"Thanks, Doc," Hitch shook hands with the doctor.

"Thank you for what you did for Lt. Weatherly," the doctor said, "He's doing quite well thanks to your ingenuity."

"I'm glad I could help," Hitch said modestly. "I'll come back later and visit with him," The friends helped him gather his belongings to take back to their shared quarters.

"Well, I don't know about you guys," Hitch said, "but I'm starving. I was too nervous to eat breakfast."

"Would you like to join us in the mess hall for some lunch?" Tully asked Isla.

"Lunch would be grand," she replied. I'll run change and meet you outside the mess hall.

Chapter 3

Twenty minutes later, dressed in their usual wrinkled, faded uniforms, they waited outside the mess hall doors. Soon they heard whistles and catcalls coming from the street and saw Isla, bodyguards in tow, walking towards them. She was dressed in a sleeveless, floral, cotton dress with a wide-brimmed straw hat, bag, and sandals. A long-sleeved, lightweight cotton sweater hung from her shoulders for when she needed protection from the sun.

"Thank you for waiting," she smiled. "We could eat in the mess hall as you suggested, or I have become best friends with Cookie who has helped me arrange a picnic lunch. Would you care to join me in a shady spot?"

"As you said, that would be grand," Moffitt spoke for the rest of them, and they walked around to the kitchen back door. Cookie had a large picnic hamper ready and she thanked him for his help.

"There's a nice shady spot by the motor pool," Tully said, "and we can get some blankets from the jeeps to sit on." They quickly reached the motor pool, and she was introduced to Bertha and Olive. They spread two blankets and made themselves comfortable beneath several sparse trees.

"I've got chicken salad," she began to remove items from the basket. Both Tully and Hitch glanced at each other and looked a bit queasy. Troy and Moffitt grinned at their uneasiness.

"Is it fresh chicken or from a can?" Tully asked, rubbing his hand over his stomach as he recalled a time when the two privates dealt with food poisoning.

"Unfortunately, it's from a can, but I'm sure it will taste just fine," she answered observing their discomfort.

"Canned is good," Hitch assured her as he and Tully relaxed. "We've both taken a vow that we won't eat any chicken unless it comes from a can until we're back home."

"That sounds like another story I need to hear, she said, removing plates, silverware, and paper napkins. "But perhaps not while we're eating." Both privates nodded in agreement. "And these, my dear boy, are for you," she held out a covered basket to Hitch.

He folded back the cloth and grinned broadly. He held the basket to his nose and breathed deeply."

"How did you manage this?" Hitch revealed fresh baked scones and quickly passed them around.

"Oh, Tadpole, how many times do I have to remind you to never underestimate what I can accomplish when I set my mind to it," she remarked. "After I said goodbye to my troupe and did my morning warm-up routine, I introduced myself to Cookie who let me bake a batch of scones and invited me to use his kitchen anytime I wished. Of course, I left a dozen for him and his crew. He also allowed me some items from the officers' supplies."

Moffitt was savoring the smell and pinched off a bite to taste. "This reminds me of my mother's kitchen at home," he said.

"We have jam but alas, no clotted cream," she replied as she pulled out corn salad, fresh sliced tomatoes, dates, sliced melon, macaroni salad, canned peaches, cheese, and nuts. There were cold bottles of beer and Coca-Cola.

"So, what are you men going to do on your 72-hour leaves? Do you have special girls to spend time with or maybe you'd like me to find some companions for you," she asked as they filled plates and ate.

"We haven't really thought about it much," Troy answered. "Unfortunately, we almost never get to complete a leave before we're sent out on a mission."

"Well, that's not very fair," she remarked.

"No, just the ways of war," Moffitt added. "Troy and I have certain women that we see on a somewhat regular basis, and Tully and Hitch don't usually have any difficulty finding a companion, so you don't have to talk some poor unsuspecting souls into joining us." She laughed.

"Then you should ask them to do something special during whatever time you have," she told them. "How about, you, Mark?"

"I'll just hang with you, if that's okay," Hitch took a long swallow of Coke. "Unless you've found someone you want to spend time with."

"No, I'm content catching up with you," she answered.

"The movie tonight is The 39 Steps, and we could head to the beach tomorrow?" Tully suggested.

"That sounds wonderful," Isla said, adding more food to their plates. The charms on her bracelet tinkled and Hitch took her wrist in his hands to examine it.

"You've added a few more, since I last saw this," he commented looking at each charm.

"Well, I've added a few more life experiences since I last saw you," she said. Noticing the others looking, she explained, "My life is recorded in this bracelet. My hope is that it is filled and then some before my life ends. Every milestone of my life is represented in these charms."

"What will you add to remember your time in Africa?" Hitch asked.

"Maybe I could add a little bottle and fill it with desert sand, if I could find a bottle small enough," she suggested. "I don't know how you guys get anything done in this heat," She dabbed at her forehead with a lace edged handkerchief.

"We're used to it," Troy said, "you haven't been here long enough."

"So, do your two guards have to follow you around all the time?" Tully asked.

"According to Captain Boggs they do," Isla answered. "I feel bad taking them away from other work and it can't be very exciting for them. I'll have to speak with him."

"If Captain Boggs thinks you need them, I don't think he'll change his mind," Moffitt said.

"I don't see any of the female clerks or medical staff needing protection. I can take care of myself," she responded.

"She can," Hitch agreed, "Just in case any of you were getting ideas."

"Well, I have an appointment with the captain this afternoon, so I'll see if we can't modify the arrangement," she said, pulling out a peach pie from the basket. "Baked just for you, Tadpole,"

"Peach?" Hitch was amazed, "My favorite." She sliced and served the pie.

"One thing's for sure, Isla," Troy remarked, "when you're around, we sure eat well."

"Hear, hear," they agreed.

"Will you marry me?" Tully asked, "And bake me a pie like this every day?" They laughed and finished dessert before repacking the hamper with the dirty dishes, bottles and leftovers and returned it to the kitchen.

"Troy and I have to meet with Captain Boggs," Moffitt said, "So, shall we meet you for dinner in the mess hall before the movie?"

"Of course," she replied. "And please bring your lady friends."

"I've got some work to do on Olive," Tully announced and headed to the motor pool.

"How about a walk?" Hitch suggested and she put her arm in his. "I'd like to do a thorough check on the iron lung and make sure everything is still working as it should. I've got another book for him too." She had been impressed with the jury-rigged iron lung and even prouder of her friend for putting it together. They visited with the lieutenant, and she stopped to speak with the doctor about performing for the patients while she was on base.

They made their way to the motor pool but didn't see Tully anywhere. They sat in Bertha's seats and continued to catch up with each other's lives. The two bodyguards were told to sit in the shade a distance away and relax. At three o'clock, she said she needed to go meet with Captain Boggs and Hitch walked her to the captain's office.

Chapter 4

Troy and Moffitt were in their quarters when Tully walked in. His eyes were glazed over, and he seemed almost shell-shocked. Troy was lighting a cigarette and Tully said,

"Could I have one of those, Sarge?" He reached for the cigarette with shaking hands and accepted Troy's light before plopping down on a lower bunk.

"You don't smoke, Tully," Moffitt committed, "what's the matter?" Tully took several long drags on the cigarette before answering.

"I could really use a stiff drink, but this will have to do. When Hitch says they talk about everything, he's not kidding," Tully shook his head. "I was underneath Olive doing some work when they came into the motor pool." He sucked on the cigarette. "I didn't realize they were there until they started talking. They were sitting in Bertha, and I heard things I really wish I could forget. I couldn't figure out a way to let them know I was there without embarrassing them," Tully deeply inhaled the cigarette.

"I think Hitch told her about every girl he has been with since he's been in the Army, in detail, including his run-ins with the native women that didn't end so well. He even told her about Marianne, the French girl who died." Tully took a deep breath. "I already knew about his conquests, but she told him he needed to make sure he always used protection so he wouldn't contract any venereal diseases or have any little Hitchcock Juniors running around. That was bad enough, but then, they talked about her sex life, or lack thereof and how she's still waiting for the right one cause she's so particular. If I could have dug an escape tunnel from beneath Olive, I would have. I can't even imagine talking about such things with a girl." He stubbed out the cigarette butt in a makeshift ashtray. Troy and Moffitt listened, equally amused and aghast. Moffitt rummaged in his footlocker while Tully continued.

"Somehow the conversation got around to what was referred to as her small bustline, and Hitch made a comment that made me blush. I just wanted the earth to swallow me up. Then he said it didn't matter if the sand in her hourglass figure had shifted a bit to the bottom, she still had the best legs and derriere," Tully trailed off.

"Here," Moffitt handed Tully a bottle of brandy. The private removed the top and took a long swallow, waited a moment, and took another.

"Thanks," he said appreciatively, handing the bottle back to the sergeant.

"Then she brought up Meekin and Hitch told her everything, including his nightmares and how he was feeling. I really think he felt better after talking about it with her."

"Well, that's one good thing that came out it," Troy commented.

"Thankfully she had an appointment with Captain Boggs and the two of them left so I could come out of my hidey hole," Tully said. "I don't know if I can look Hitch in the face again." The door opened and Hitch walked into the room. He was confused by his three friends looking at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Tully replied heading for the door. "I'm going to go check with Lorraine about the movie."

"And we have sergeant stuff to do," Troy made an excuse, and they followed Tully out the door.

At 6:00 they met Isla at the mess hall doors. Her bodyguard was still present, and Hitch teased,

"Couldn't talk the captain out of it, huh?"

"Oh, ye of little faith," she smiled and waved as the guards left. "I got Boggs to agree that I would be safe with any member of your patrol, so I only need the guards when you aren't around." They entered the mess hall, and everyone present stood and applauded.

"Wow, you can't go anywhere without recognition," Hitch remarked to Isla.

"I think it's for you four," she replied. "Perhaps for your Silver Stars," she suggested.

"Oh man," Hitch sighed. "We don't need any acknowledgement." The four men were embarrassed as they made their way to the chow line, and everyone went back to eating their dinner. Throughout the meal, they were continually interrupted by soldiers congratulating them on a job well done; thanking Hitch for his contraption and telling Isla how much they enjoyed her performance.

Tully reached for a cream-filled sandwich cookie for dessert. He was about to take a bite when several soldiers around the mess hall spit out the cookies they were eating and cursed indignantly.

"It's toothpaste!" they exclaimed trying to get the taste out of their mouths. "Who's the joker?" The rest of the room laughed, and everyone avoided the cookies.

"Did you do this?" Troy asked Tully who protested his innocence.

"I've either been with you or at the motor pool. When would I have had the time?"

"Well, I know it wasn't you," Troy said to Hitch, "you've been with Isla all day." Tully noticed Hitch and Isla exchange a brief glance of innocence.

After eating, they escaped to Remy's for a beer where they were joined by Troy's friend, Linda, Moffitt's date, Carol, and Lorraine. They enjoyed the movie and afterwards the three older rats disappeared with their dates and Hitch walked Isla to headquarters where she was now staying.

"How's your head?" Isla asked.

"It's much better," Hitch admitted. "I haven't had any dizziness today."

"And the fever?" she was concerned.

"Still the same. Not up or down," Hitch wasn't happy.

"You want to be out on patrol again," she said.

"It's become a part of me," Hitch replied. "I feel useless when I can't do my job."

"It won't be long," she consoled him. "Besides, you still have two days leave and we're going to have a wonderful time tomorrow at the beach." They said goodnight and Hitch headed back to his quarters. He undressed in the dark and climbed into his bunk, knowing his roommates wouldn't be back for hours.

The following morning, Hitch rose while his three friends were still snoring. He showered, shaved, and dressed before calling for Isla at headquarters. She wore another sleeveless, cotton, printed A-line dress with the cotton sweater around her shoulders. It was accessorized with the same wide brimmed, straw hat, bag, gloves and sandals. A matching scarf was tied to her bag. Together they attended the Protestant church service before heading to breakfast. They found the other three Rats finishing their meal and Troy broke the bad news,

"The beach will have to wait," he said. "We're being sent on patrol. Unfortunately, you're still not cleared for duty, so you have to stay here. Your leave is still intact so enjoy yourselves. Maybe we can make the beach when we return."

"Andy driving?" Hitch asked, slightly miffed he wasn't going along.

"Yeah," Tully replied. "I'll keep an eye on Bertha for you."

"Take care, Hitch," Moffitt added, draining his mug of tea. "I leave him in your capable hands, Isla." They set out leaving Hitch and Isla to their breakfast.

"I guess you'll have to settle for me," she said, trying to make him smile.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I've been out of action for a week, and I miss it. That doesn't mean I'm not happy to spend my time with you," he assured her. "What should we do today?"

"Well," she said, "I thought you could help me entertain the guys in the hospital. I need someone to handle my accompaniment records."

"I can do that," he added taking a deep drink of coffee.

"And maybe, you could teach me how to drive a jeep?" she suggested giving him her best smile. He looked at her and smiled back,

"Maybe," he said, "if they'll let me check one out of the motor pool."

They spent most of the morning visiting the hospital patients. She sang several songs for each ward and Lt. Weatherly in the isolation room. The staff was very appreciative, and she met several of the nurses who had briefly dated Hitch. They were curious about this "outside" woman who apparently didn't have any romantic designs on one of the best-looking men on the base.

Hitch noticed Beverly, the nurse he had struck, and took Isla to meet her.

"Your eye looks much better, and the facial bruising seems to be clearing up," he said.

"You're looking better yourself," she replied. "How's the fever?"

"Still there," he said with a sigh and introduced her to Isla, explaining what had happened between him and the nurse.

"He owes me a piano solo and a Lindy Hop," Beverly told her, "But not until that fever is gone."

"Don't worry, he always keeps his word," Isla assured her.

"Thanks for what you did today," Beverly was grateful. "The men really enjoyed it."

"I'll be sure to come back before I leave," Isla assured her as she and Hitch said goodbye. They headed to the motor pool where Hitch spoke with one of the men who handed him several items.

"My buddy's letting me use a jeep for a couple of hours," he said with a wide grin. "We're going to go outside the gate into the desert a bit so you can practice without danger of hitting anything."

"How wonderful," she was excited.

"I got you these to put on over your dress, so you won't get dirty," he said, as she removed her sweater and gloves. He helped her into some coveralls and suggested, "You might want to put a scarf around your face. "Otherwise, you'll be tasting sand." He handed her a pair of goggles to wear and put another pair over his kepi. He got into the driver's seat, and they headed out the gates.

For the next hour and a half, he taught her how to drive in the sand. She ground the gears a number of times and he was glad it wasn't Bertha who was being abused. He had brought some K-rations so she could experience what they ate when in the field. She was less that impressed and wondered how they managed to get anything done with such terrible food. They returned to the motor pool with her driving the jeep. Both were sweaty, dusty, and covered with sand.

"How do you stand this every day?" she asked. "My deodorant failed long ago, and I feel so sticky and nasty," She returned the goggles to him along with the coveralls. He took off his kepi and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

"You get used to it," he said. "It's still miserable but you learn to tolerate it." He thanked his friend for the loan and returned the borrowed items.

"I'm ready for a shower," she said as they walked to headquarters. "I have an appointment with Captain Boggs at 4:00. Maybe you could get some rest and we'll meet at dinner?"

"What are these meetings with Captain Boggs about?" Hitch was curious.

"Would you believe, we're playing bridge?" she asked with a grin.

"Really?" He wasn't sure if she was kidding or not.

"No, we're just plotting how to drive the Nazis from North Africa," she teased, and he grinned back at her. They agreed to meet for dinner, and she went to clean up, and get to her meeting.

Chapter 5

The conference with the captain lasted longer than expected so she was late meeting up with Hitch. He was waiting patiently by the doors to the mess hall, reading a letter that he stuffed into his pocket as she approached.

"I don't smell any perfume?" she commented, "Is it a letter from your folks?"

"No, nothing like that, I'll show you at the table," he said as they filled their trays, and found a place to sit. He handed her the letter and her face lit up.

"Oh, Mark," she said thrilled for her friend, "You've been recommended to join the Army Corps of Engineers? What are you going to do?"

"There's no way I'd leave the patrol," he said, tentatively tasting the mystery meat. "I'm honored, but I'm not qualified. I think this is a result of General Gleason. As I told him, I like what I'm doing, and I think it's a good use of my skills and training."

"You have become such an amazing young man, Tadpole. I am prouder of you each day," her eyes were shining with tears that didn't spill down her cheeks.

"Who would have thought such a thing when I was blowing up Granny Mac's potting shed," he remarked playfully.

"It was an auspicious beginning," she agreed. They were soon surrounded by other soldiers trying to get to know Isla better, so they didn't have much opportunity to speak until the meal was finished and they walked outside. They found a shady spot as the sun was slowly beginning to set and continued catching up.

"So, tell me about the Rockettes," Hitch said, "How did your parents react when you decided against the debutante route?"

"My mother was disappointed, but I think she knew it just wasn't what I wanted to do. I think they were more disappointed that I put off college, especially after being accepted into Radcliffe. I can go to college anytime, but I only have a few years to dance before my muscles rebel. They came to see me perform several times and bragged about having a daughter as a Rockette, so I guess that's a good thing," she replied. "I'm glad you were able to see a show before you shipped out."

"I was the envy of every soldier I knew," he said, "and when I pulled out a picture of us from my wallet, I was treated like royalty."

"Glad to be of help," she affirmed. "I brought some new publicity shots with me, so I'll be sure to give them to you before I leave."

"Not pin-up shots?" Hitch was surprised.

"With my bustline, or lack thereof?" she scoffed.

"You know what I always say about small-busted women," he teased.

"Don't you dare, repeat that disgusting line to me, Mark Hitchcock," she protested, pretending to be angry, which made him laugh.

"How are you getting to Morocco? Surely, you don't have to cross the desert in a convoy?" he was concerned.

"I believe I'm flying," she answered. "I kind of wish I was going by jeep. Maybe they'd let me drive part of the way."

"I doubt that" he laughed, "and you'd be several nights in the desert. You don't like the heat or all the sand unless it's a beach, so I think you'd be pretty miserable."

"You're probably right," she agreed, "But I would really enjoy driving the jeep. Thanks for teaching me. Captain Boggs said he didn't think the desert fighting would go on much longer. What do you think will happen when it ends. Will they split up your unit? Will you be sent to Europe?"

"I agree the end is coming for the desert campaign," Hitch remarked. "I don't know what they'll do with us. I hope we get to stay together since we work well as a team. I worry the British army will reclaim Moffitt since he was assigned to us because of his knowledge of the desert. I'm thinking I might be sent to France because of my knowing French but I hope whatever happens, we'll be able to stay united."

"In that case, we should work on your accent," she said and immediately switched the conversation to French. As they spoke, she would occasionally correct his pronunciation or grammar. Two hours later, she confessed she was tired, and he walked her to her quarters.

"When do you think the guys will return?" she asked.

"No idea. I kind of thought they'd be back tonight," he answered.

"Since I chose what we did today, why don't you pick what to do tomorrow?" she suggested. "It might be our last day before you go back on duty."

"Not if this fever doesn't go away," Hitch was frustrated. "I hope we still have time together. You choose, Zu-Zu, I can't decide."

"Well, you can join me at 5:30 for my daily workout if you'd like and then I'll talk to Cookie about letting me bake you some muffins for breakfast," she said. "Afterward, we can decide what to do and spend some more time with that accent of yours."

"Sounds like a plan," Hitch hugged her and kissed her cheek at the door of headquarters.

Chapter 6

The following morning at 5:30, he walked her to the warehouse where the stage had been erected. He carried the phonograph and a stack of records. She was dressed in a sleeveless leotard, tights, and short sheer, dance skirt with a regular skirt wrapped around her waist. A portable ballet barre had been rigged for her use and, removing the outer skirt, she began to warm up her muscles.

"Why don't you play for me, until I'm ready to dance," she suggested. Hitch seated himself on the piano stool and placed his hands on the keys. He played a variety of popular music and classical pieces as she stretched her muscles more and more. He loved watching her move, even if it was just her warm-up routine. She continued to stretch and perform ballet moves at the barre. This was followed by pointe work and leaps. She took a short break for water and to wipe the perspiration from her face and neck.

"Do you remember Claire de Lune?" she asked, and he nodded. He began playing the poignant number and she moved to center stage and began to dance a ballet of her own making. He was so proud and amazed at her grace and control. When she had finished, he applauded, and she paused to catch her breath and drink some water.

"Would you do the swan for me?" he asked, and she gave him a smile.

"Anytime for you, Tadpole," she replied. "It should be in the stack." He found the accompaniment record and she got into position. He placed the needle on the record and turned up the sound. The haunting melody of The Swan by Saint-Saens filled the air, and she began floating across the stage on pointe. He watched entranced at her arm movements and the graceful way she portrayed the last moments of a dying swan. As always, the beauty of her dancing brought a lump to his throat. When she completed the dance, he couldn't bring himself to applaud.

"You are stunningly beautiful when you perform," he choked out and removed the needle from the record.

"You are my most appreciative audience," she again wiped her face and neck and swallowed some water. "Now for the fun stuff," her eyes were twinkling, "come join me," she held out her hand.

"Aw, no, Zu-Zu," he protested.

"Come on, just a few lifts, and spins, if you're up to it," she wheedled. "No one will see you. Come on." Reluctantly he climbed the steps to the stage.

"They'd better not," he said petulantly.

"Do you remember what I taught you?" she asked, and he nodded. For the next several minutes he held her as she pirouetted and turned. He caught her as she leapt into his arms and lifted her above his head.

"Thank you, Mark," she kissed his cheek. "I really appreciate it." She untied her pointe shoes, pulled on a pair of bobby socks, and tied her tap shoes. The next 30 minutes she went through several tap numbers before ending her morning routine. He gathered the albums and record player, and they returned to headquarters where she showered and changed into a pair of khaki slacks and long-sleeved yellow blouse. A yellow and navy scarf was tied around her neck and her braided hair was hidden beneath the wide-brimmed straw hat.

She talked Cookie into letting her make some cinnamon muffins and soon they were seated in the shade enjoying them with coffee. They returned to the hospital where they visited with patients and helped them write letters home. Lt. Weatherly was greatly improved and hoped to be out of the iron lung in a day or two.

As they prepared to leave, the doctor spotted Hitch and asked about his fever. Before waiting for an answer, he stuck a thermometer in the private's mouth. "How's the dizziness?" he asked.

"It seems to be gone," Hitch mumbled.

"Good," the doctor responded. "How's your eyesight? Any problems?" Hitch slightly shook his head. The doctor removed the bandage from Hitch's forehead then took the thermometer from the blonde's mouth. He announced Hitch's temperature was normal, "I'll send your paperwork to Sergeant Troy and Captain Boggs."

"Thank you, sir," Hitch was thrilled.

The rest of the morning was spent walking about the base and reviewing Hitch's French. She asked questions about what they did when on patrol and he glossed over the dangers they faced, making it sound like they did mostly recon and occasionally blew ammo dumps. She could tell he was being evasive but didn't press him. She knew there was a lot more to it if the team had all earned Bronze and Silver Stars. She had also noticed the purple hearts on their dress uniforms among other medals but didn't ask questions.

They were having lunch in the mess hall with Isla surrounded by admirers when the Rat Patrol came in trailing dust and sand. The soldiers around Isla quickly relocated to make room for the desert rats. Isla was introduced to Andy who said hello and quickly went off to join his usual unit.

"What's wrong with him?" Hitch asked and Tully avoided the blonde's eyes.

"He's afraid to face you," Moffitt said.

"What did he do to Bertha?" Hitch was suspicious.

"It's not too bad," Tully said, "It'll just take a bit of work to get her back in shape," They hurried through their meal then headed to the showers and some rest. Hitch and Isla walked to the motor pool where Hitch went to work checking out Bertha. Isla handed him tools as they were needed and kept up the conversation in French. Occasionally, Hitch would mutter some profanities under his breath, which didn't sound as bad in French. He was definitely going to have a talk with Andy and the proper way to treat a jeep.

A few hours later Tully ambled into the motor pool and began working on Olive. At his arrival, they switched from French to English, and he was very glad they weren't discussing anything personal. They filled him in on the driving lesson and he was impressed to hear how well she did.

"Sarge and Doc are writing out their reports. They'll be glad to know you've been cleared for duty."

"Not as glad as I am," Hitch said lowering Bertha's hood and tying down the windshield.

"They wondered if you two would like to join us for a beer before dinner?"

"Sure," Hitch answered and looked at Isla.

"I'm afraid I have to meet with Captain Boggs," she said,
Perhaps later?"

"I'll walk you back," Hitch said, wiping his hands on a rag and throwing it into a barrel.

The evening did not go as planned. The Rat Patrol was summoned to Captain Boggs' office.

Chapter 7

"Sit down, gentlemen," the captain said, indicating the chairs before his desk.

"GQ has an assignment for your unit that's going to require several days of preparation. It's more like an assignment within an assignment as it has several parts," the captain paused before continuing. "Some vital plans regarding German offenses will be delivered to Captain Dietrich's base three days from now by several upper echelon officers who will confer together before returning to their own bases. We need to find out what those plans are without them knowing we know."

"So, we can't just go in and take them?" Troy commented.

"No, and security has already been doubled.

"So, GQ wants us to somehow get past the additional security, photograph the plans and get away without the Germans being any wiser?" Moffitt asked.

"And our usual diversionary tactics will be useless, since any explosion would announce our presence."

"Exactly," Boggs continued, "that's why we've arranged for a different type of distraction." The captain seemed a bit nervous and briefly glanced at Hitch before proceeding. "Tomorrow morning, a group of specially selected men will be arriving on base to help with the diversion. They will be traveling under the auspices of the International Red Cross and one of your men will be going undercover with them. Part of the plan will depend upon the relationship you have with Captain Dietrich," he looked at Troy, "and the times you have entered into a truce. Do you believe Captain Dietrich to be a man of his word?"

"Yes, sir," Troy replied. "When he gives his word, you can depend on him to keep it."

"Do you think he would be open to entering into a truce with you to protect a neutral non-combatant?"

"I don't know, sir." Troy spoke the truth. "Under the right circumstances, I believe he would. He has done so in the past." The captain nodded and turned to address another member of the patrol.

"Private Hitchcock, I understand you are quite an accomplished piano player," he said.

Hitch's head snapped up when the captain said his name. "I play the piano, captain, but I don't know if I would say I am accomplished," he said.

"I've heard him play," Troy spoke up. "He is quite good."

"So, I've been led to believe," the captain agreed. "I also believe you can speak French?"

"I can read and write it better than speaking but, yes, sir, I know French," Hitch was curious why he was being singled out.

"Good. We have a civilian volunteer who is going to help us keep the Germans busy so you can photograph their plans," the captain nodded to his aide who opened the hallway door. As Isla entered the room, Hitch leapt to his feet.

"No!" he exclaimed, "You can't even think of doing this," he addressed Isla.

"Sit down, Hitch," Troy ordered.

"But, Sarge," he began but stopped at the look on Troy's face. He slowly took his seat. "I apologize for my outburst, sir," he addressed the captain but locked eyes with Isla. He clearly was against any plan that involved her participation.

"It's alright, Mark," she assured him. "I volunteered to do this." He started to answer but Troy's glare stopped him.

"The men arriving tomorrow are musicians who will be serving as the band and stage crew. Private Hitchcock will join them along with Miss MacKenzie as a non-partisan performance group heading for the Allied hospital in Benghazi. Our plan is to have Captain Dietrich provide an escort for Miss MacKenzie and her group. In return, they will provide entertainment for the captain, and his base personnel." Boggs explained.

"Excuse me, sir," Troy interrupted, "but Private Hitchcock is well-known to Captain Dietrich."

"Which is why the private will be heavily disguised," Boggs continued and outlined the rest of the plan.

"I have one question for Miss MacKenzie," Moffitt said before they were dismissed. "Isla, are you certain about this?"

"Yes, Jack, if I can help end this war in any way, then it's my duty to do so, and as long as Mark is with me, I know it will be alright," she replied with a ready smile.

Hitch managed to control himself until they reached the street. "You cannot do this," he said, taking Isla by her arms.

"It's not your decision, Tadpole," she said firmly.

"None of this Tadpole stuff," he was growing angry. "I can't let you do this. It's too dangerous."

"As I said, it's not your decision. I understand what is involved and I'm willing to take the risk. I have faith in you and your patrol. If I have the ability and skills to help with this assignment, then I will gladly do what I can to make it successful," she was calm. Mark looked mad enough to punch someone or something. He kept shaking his head and trying to understand.

"She's right," Tully spoke softly. "It is her decision and there's nothing you can do about it so get over yourself." Hitch looked at him with murder in his steely blue eyes. "Now, I could use some chow," Tully held his arm out for Isla to take and they started for the mess hall. Hitch didn't follow, "I'm not hungry," he said.

"Hitch, you're always hungry," Troy said. "Come on, let's talk this through." Reluctantly, Hitch followed but continued to raise his protests as they went over the mission and began working out details. When they finished, he walked Isla back to her quarters, arguing the entire way. Her mind was made up and he was unable to persuade her to change her decision.

The next morning Hitch was ordered to the converted warehouse performance area. There he met the musicians who had been selected for the mission: 2 Australians, 2 Belgians, a Greek, an American of Chinese descent, 2 Canadians and a Sikh. Hitch noticed that several of the men had noticeable disabilities: two had obvious limps, one wore a hearing aid, one wore dark glasses and used a white cane, one was missing a leg, and one was missing several fingers.

One of the Canadians introduced himself as Lt. Davidson, stating he was in charge of the musical combo. He presented Hitch to Corporal Bonet, one of the Belgians, who was serving as the musical arranger. He handed Hitch a stack of musical arrangements and told him to start practicing. He was halfway through the stack of music when Isla and Captain Boogs approached him with one of the Australians.

"Mark, this is Sergeant Thackery, he's the costumer who will be working on your disguise," Isla introduced them. The sergeant removed a measuring tape from around his neck and began to take Hitch's measurements, calling them out to Isla who wrote them on a notepad.

"I trust, Private Hitchcock," the captain said, "that you've overcome your personal feelings about Miss MacKenzie taking part in the mission."

"Yes, sir," Hitch spoke with his eyes downcast and not sounding at all convincing.

"For this assignment, you will have a Canadian passport and be known as Tad Winstead. None of you will have military ID's. You are a non-partisan civilian group. You will accompany Miss McKenzie as she sings and if needed, as she dances. She will be performing under the name of Zu-Zu Gordon."

"Your mom's maiden name," Hitch said to her, and she nodded. He bit his lip to keep from speaking but his entire attitude was of disapproval and anger.

Later that day, Hitch began rehearsing with the other musicians. In spite of their disabilities, they were quite accomplished. He found himself enjoying being in the combo. They accompanied Isla with at least a dozen songs, including Lili Marlene. Each of the musicians had specialty solos or duets and Hitch showed off his Boogie Woogie and Ragtime skills. Isla ran through 6 dance numbers, including the ballet to Claire de Lune, the Dying Swan, and the comedy routine to The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy. Her three tap numbers did not include the one on pointe.

Late afternoon, they worked on their background stories and Hitch was told he couldn't chew bubblegum while undercover in case the familiar habit would catch Dietrich's eye. The dangers involved in being in disguise for this mission began to sink in, making him even angrier that Isla was involved.

Chapter 8

That evening the Rat Patrol gathered at Remy's to drink and discuss the mission. Isla had excused herself after dinner, saying she was tired and needed to rest. Hitch was sullen as he sipped his beer. Moffitt was studying the younger man and said,

"I gather from your demeanor, that you are still not onboard with Isla being a part of this mission."

"She can't be allowed to do this. It's too dangerous." Hitch was adamant.

"And you're an expert on what she can do and can't do?" Troy asked quietly.

"Sarge, she's a civilian. She's not used to the desert. She doesn't know what could happen," Hitch protested.

"She seems to know her abilities as far as I can tell," Tully added, "Do you think she's a coward?"

"Of course not," Hitch said dismissively, "but she doesn't understand the dangers."

"Seems to me, she understood the dangers when she joined the USO." Troy commented.

"It's not the same," Hitch continued. "They aren't on the front lines. They're pretty well protected from the enemy."

"But not always," Moffitt joined in, "Tell me, Hitch, are you afraid you won't be able to fulfill your assignment with her along—that she will distract you from your duty?"

Absolutely not!" Hitch was incensed at the thought.

"Maybe you're more worried about yourself instead of her," Moffit continued. "Maybe you're afraid you won't be able to perform as you should because you'll be too worried about her. Why don't you think she can handle it?"

"She's a girl," Hitch was even angrier at the thought he might shirk his duty. "She's just not prepared for all of this."

"Neither were you when you first arrived in Africa. Sure, you'd had extra training about desert survival along with your commando training, but you were still green until you actually got into the field. You learned quickly enough," it was a long speech for Tully.

"But I'm a soldier, it's my job," Hitch began but was cut off by Troy.

"You see her as your childhood friend. She's not a girl, Hitch. She's twenty years old, the same age as you. We may sometimes call you 'kid," but we don't treat you as one. We respect you as the man you are. You've proven yourself over and over again. She's a woman who knows her own mind and who can make her own decisions. You need to stop thinking about her as Zu-Zu and think of her as Isla."

"Tell me, Hitch," Moffitt asked, "who helped you when you first became a part of this patrol?"

"Sarge," Hitch was still ill-humored. "He taught me a lot about desert fighting and survival, and how to better control my impulsiveness. Tully and Cotter helped too, and you've taught me a whole lot about the desert in general. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you guys."

"Then perhaps, you should stop being so angry and teach Isla what she needs to know for this mission," Moffitt suggested, and the other two men nodded in agreement.

"You say the two of you have always told each other everything and know everything about each other," Tully continued. "She needs you to listen and respect her decision. She needs you to treat her as an adult, with the same regard you would give anyone else assigned to help us with a mission." Hitch had grown silent and seemed to be thinking about what they were saying.

"Maybe you need to teach her what you think she needs to know about being in the desert so she can be better prepared," Troy said quietly.

"I hadn't thought of that," Hitch spoke grudgingly.

"You need to put yourself in her place," Moffit suggested. "Like us, she's willing to put her talents and skills to work in helping us fulfill this assignment. I know what it's like to be the new guy on the team, having to prove myself and gain your confidence. She trusts us enough to go into the lion's den of Dietrich's base. She must have concerns, even fears, about Dietrich and putting herself into his hands on our recommendation that he will be honorable. She agreed to do this as long as you were with her. That says a lot about her trust in you. As her friend, don't you trust her as well?"

Hitch seemed thoughtful and put his head in his hands with his elbows on the table. He scrubbed his hands across his face and said, "I feel like I've been verbally spanked by Granny Mac." The others smiled. He looked up, "I'm still not thrilled about the situation but you're right, I need to focus on how best to help her than stew in my own feelings. I just keep thinking on what I would say to her parents and mine if something were to happen to her," Hitch admitted. "And God knows, Granny Mac would literally skin me alive. Thanks for helping me realize how stupid I've been."

"Foolish, maybe," Tully drawled and finished his beer.

"Or thoughtless," Troy chimed in.

"Or imprudent," added Moffitt before calling for another round. After a day and a half of sulking, Hitch finally half-smiled.

The next morning, Hitch apologized to Isla and again rehearsed with the musical group. They ran through the entire program with Isla. Shortly before noon, Captain Boggs appeared with Troy, Moffitt, and half a dozen blond, blue-eyed soldiers. All wore wire-rimmed glasses and chewed bubble gum. They lined up on stage next to Hitch who was asked to give his kepi to Troy. Sargent Thackery and Isla joined the captain and Rats to evaluate the individuals vying to impersonate Hitch. They scrutinized each of the blonds, had them blow bubbles, smile broadly, and stand next to Hitch.

"I think the second from the left, looks best," Isla said thoughtfully. "His dimple is the closest to Mark's and he seems to have a little more arrogance."

"Thanks a lot," Hitch responded sarcastically.

"I agree," Sargent Thackery said, "The body proportions are better, too. Corporal Jenkins, try this on and stand next to Private Hitchcock," he tossed the kepi to the bewildered Corporal.

Jenkins put the kepi on his head and moved next to Hitch who readjusted the legion hat at a better angle.

"Corporal, looks like you have a new assignment, please go with Sergeants Troy and Moffitt who will fill you in," Captain Boggs said. "The rest of you may return to your duties."

Hitch reclaimed his kepi and walked with Isla to the mess hall while Moffitt and Troy escorted Jenkins to the motor pool where they handed him over to Tully for training. After lunch, Hitch and Isla went to the motor pool. They noticed one of the patrol's jeeps was missing. Hitch began to teach Isla what he thought she should know about desert survival until it was time to return to the rehearsal hall. Her reward was being allowed to drive the remaining jeep around the streets of the base.

They stopped by the hospital where Lt. Weatherly was about to be taken from the iron lung for the final time.

"You do the honors," the doctor said to Hitch who switched off the machine. Once removed, Lt. Weatherly's breathing was evaluated, and he was judged to be well enough to go into a regular hospital ward.

"Thanks for your help, Private. I don't think I would have made it without you," he shook hands.

"Glad I could help," Hitch replied. "Take care of yourself."

At dinner, Hitch and Isla were missing but Jenkins and Tully had returned covered in sand.

"How'd he do?" Troy asked, enjoying his ham and lima beans.

"Not too bad," Tully commented. "He needs to blow bigger bubbles and chomp harder on his gum."

"Do you guys really drive like this all the time?" Jenkins was skeptical he would be able to keep up.

"All the time," Troy grinned.

"My back and arms feel like I went several rounds with Joe Louis," Jenkins rubbed his left shoulder.

"You'll get used to it," Moffitt assured him. "Soon, it will seem like a piece of cake." A private stopped at their table with a message & package for Troy who read the note and announced, "Isla asked us to join her at Remy's at 8:00 for a drink. She says to bring the faux Hitch and have him wear these," he opened the package to reveal the red kepi and the signet ring that had belonged to Hitch's grandfather.

"Intriguing," Moffitt commented. "Wonder if she'd like another tango?"

"I'd like to show her how I can Fox Trot better than Sarge," Tully drawled.

"Who is Isla, and can I put in for a swing dance?" Jenkins asked.

"You'll have to stand in line," Troy smiled.

Chapter 9

At 8:00 that evening, the Rat Patrol, with their substitute Hitchcock were seated at a table in Remy's bar. The record player was continuously in use and the dance floor was busy. They were enjoying a beer when Isla walked in, escorted by two members of the musical troupe. She claimed her spot with the Rats and the two musicians grabbed a large table for themselves.

"It's good to get out of that rehearsal hall," she said ordering a beer from Remy who immediately appeared at her side.

"Where's Hitch?" Troy asked, "Or should I say Tad Winstead?"

"He's working on some arrangements and hopes to join us later," she replied. Jenkins blew a large bubble and popped it loudly while giving Isla the once over.

"What do you think of our replacement?" Tully spoke, moving his matchstick from one corner of his mouth to another.

"Mark is more handsome," she admitted, thanking Remy for the beer. "No offense, Jenkins but I do think you'll be good in the role."

"None taken," Jenkins replied, "If I can claim you for a dance."

"Now, that was very Hitch-like," Moffitt laughed. The door to the bar opened and several of the handicapped musicians entered, joining the two already present. All wore civilian clothing. The record changed to a tango and Moffitt held out his hand to Isla, saying, "I believe this is our dance." She followed him to the dance floor, and they enjoyed a deeply sensual tango together. Moffitt was captivated by her perfume and wondered if it might be acceptable for him to ask her out.

As they were dancing, the door again opened, and several soldiers entered along with several of the civilian musicians. The blind one was being guided by a brown-haired man wearing a leg brace. They joined their friends at their table, ordered beers and were soon in rapt discussion.

Moffitt returned to the table with Isla who was immediately claimed by Tully. Considering everything Tully had overheard of her conversation with Hitch, he seemed to be at ease and deeply breathed in her perfume. He didn't think Hitch would mind if he was to ask her out on a date. They were good friends after all. He escorted Isla back to the table when the song ended, and Jenkins was quick to ask for a turn.

"Of course, private," she smiled, "Just give me a moment to catch my breath," she sipped her beer.

"Actually, I'm a corporal, ma'am," Jenkins corrected her.

"Not for this assignment," Troy reminded him.

"Don't pout, private," Isla chided him. "You'll get your stripe back when we've completed our mission. She looked up as more musicians joined their comrades at the table. "Let's go," she took Jenkins by the hand as a Benny Goodman song began. "I warn you; Mark is a very good swing dancer."

"I think I'm up for the challenge," Jenkins answered and away they went.

Tully kept staring at the group of musicians and seemed lost in thought. Both Moffitt and Troy turned to see what had grabbed his attention.

"What is it?" Troy asked.

"I'm not sure," Tully replied, "I keep thinking I've seen one of those guys before," he indicated the musicians.

"They stand out a bit, don't they," Moffitt commented. "What with all the disabilities."

"I just keep thinking I know that guy in the brown fedora," Tully took a deep swallow of his beer. The sergeants glanced at the man Tully indicated. Medium brown hair peaked out beneath the fedora, and they noticed a gold tooth when he spoke. His eyes were a deep hazel, and he wore a leg brace buckled over his pants from his mid-thigh to ankle, perhaps from a bout with polio. He wore dark pleated pants, a tan jacket belted over a slight pot belly and tan desert boots.

"Where do you think you've seen him before?" Troy asked.

"I don't know. It may just be my imagination." Tully admitted. Jenkins and Isla were back and took their seats.

"Isla," Moffitt asked. "Can you tell us about the members of your musical group?"

"Actually, I'm not supposed to say anything about them," she confessed. "Why do you ask?"

"The guy in the brown fedora. Tully thinks he's seen him somewhere before," Troy answered.

"I know he's Canadian," Isla said, "but this is the first time any of these guys have played together. Most were honorably discharged when they were wounded but they're still allowed to play in military bands to entertain the troops."

"It'll come to me," Tully spoke with certainty. Troy used this moment to ask Isla to dance and they disappeared into the crowd. When the dance ended, they made their way back to the table. They noticed several of the musicians were gone, including the man in the brown fedora.

"Do you have an assignment tomorrow?" Isla asked as they walked her to her quarters.

"Moffitt and I will be with Captain Boggs most of the day going over the mission details. Tully will be teaching Hitch how to better handle the jeep."

"I hope you've warned him not to let anything happen to Bertha or there will be hell to pay," she teased.

"So, I've been told," Jenkins commented.

"Well, if you're around at 2:00 tomorrow afternoon, we're doing a dress rehearsal before packing up to leave the following morning."

"Will you be doing that dying swan thing Hitch told us about?" Tully asked.

"Yes, I will."

"We'll be there," Tully assured her.

The following day at 2:00 the Rats joined an off-duty crowd to watch the performance. Tully was again trying to place the guy in the fedora who was arguing in French with one of the Belgian musicians. When the man sat down at the piano, Tully, Moffitt, and Troy looked at one another in disbelief. The man in the fedora was Hitch!

The performance began and they enjoyed listening to Isla sing and watching her dance. The musicians were very good and played in between Isla's performances. At the end of the Swan, most of the audience had tears in their eyes.

"I think that's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Tully said.

"She really is amazing," Moffitt wiped away a tear.

"Hitch is a fool," Troy growled.

Loud applause followed the closing number, and the audience began filing out. The rats, plus Jenkins, made their way backstage to congratulate Isla and get a closer look at Tad Winstead.

"Hey guys, what did you think?" Hitch was unbuckling the leg brace. They watched as he removed the wig, tinted contact lenses and a dental prosthesis with a gold tooth.

"I knew I knew you," Tully said, "but you fooled us, at least from a distance." He poked Hitch in the stomach. "This is a nice touch." Hitch grinned and removed his shirt revealing his padded belly.

"It's hot as blazes," he commented as he removed his paunch and reached for his uniform. He was putting on his shirt when Isla appeared in a bathrobe and her hair about her shoulders. She was still wearing the stage make-up. The three men immediately commented on her talent and raved about the Swan. She thanked them and then glanced at Hitch.

"So, did he fool you?" she asked.

"It was quite convincing," Moffitt admitted. "Troy told me you could play piano, Hitch, but I didn't realize how well."

"Thanks," Hitch was pleased.

"Are you ready for this?" Troy asked Isla who took a deep breath and released it.

"Yes. Mark has been instructing me about desert survival and I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"You don't have to do this," Moffitt added.

"Yes, I do," she quietly insisted. "I have to do it for myself if no one else." One of the men called to her in French and she responded.

"We're packing the trucks now, how about we have dinner together and go over everything one last time before tomorrow's departure," she said to her Rat friends who agreed.

"We've got a few hours," Tully said, "come on Hitch, you can get in some more practice." The two left for the motor pool while Moffitt and Troy returned to Captain Boggs' office. Hitch and Isla finished loading the trucks and made sure everything was ready for departure. They walked towards the motor pool as Hitch reviewed the survival information he had shared. Jenkins and Tully were still out with Bertha, so Mark removed a blanket from Olive and spread it on the ground beneath the shade of some palm trees. He lay down with his head in her lap while she sat with her back against a palm tree.

"Are you sure you're ready?" he asked.

"Definitely yes," she replied stroking his silky, blond hair. "Thank you for not fighting me about my decision."

"I've always trusted your judgment. I respect you for your courage and willingness to put yourself in danger," he said, looking up at her.

"Just how much danger do you think it will be?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" He needed clarification.

"I guess, I just need reassurance that this Captain Dietrich is as honorable as all of you say. Will I be safe with him? Will the other guys?"

"Dietrich has always kept his word and honored the truces we've made together. I think you'll have him eating out of your hand in no time," Hitch reassured her.

"Is it alright to feel a little nervous?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Hitch replied.

"Thanks, Tadpole," she smiled down at him.

"Anytime." Hitch closed his eyes and relaxed as she continued to stroke his hair. "How about singing to me like you used to—the old Scottish songs." She began singing softly,

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,

Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond.

After finishing Loch Lomond, she sang Annie Laurie, The Flower of Scotland, and Auld Lang Syne. Hitch drifted off to sleep and she continued singing to him. She was in the middle of The Skye Boat Song when a jeep roared into the motor pool and pulled in next to Olive. Tully and Jenkins got out and shook the sand from their uniforms.

"This is a pretty picture," Tully commented looking down at Hitch with his head in Isla's lap.

"Shh," she whispered, "He's asleep."

"No, he's not. He's faking it. There's no way he would have slept through a jeep coming so close," Tully prodded Hitch with his booted toe. A large grin spread over Hitch's face, and he opened one eye.

"Spoil sport," he said. "You sure know how to ruin a good time."

"Wait a minute," Jenkins interrupted. "Since I'm supposed to be Hitch, shouldn't we change places."

"Not a chance," Hitch said sitting up. "Remember, she and I are just friends, so as Hitch, there can be nothing more between the two of you."

"That's just so wrong," Jenkins commented. "How am I supposed to get into character. Hitch is quite the ladies' man."

"Not with this lady," Isla was emphatic as she stood, "and to me, he is Mark, not Hitch."

"Well, Mark/Hitch/fake Hitch, you can all help get these jeeps ready for tomorrow's mission," Tully ordered, and they set about servicing and stocking Bertha and Olive.

They met Troy and Moffitt for dinner in the mess hall and reviewed the mission plans.

"And this," Troy said, "Is a special gift for you with orders from Captain Boggs that it be worn at all times." He handed her a combat helmet with a large red cross painted on the front.

"You're kidding," she was less than impressed.

"It's a direct order," Troy insisted.

"It's not very attractive," she was not pleased.

"Sorry, Paris fashion shows have been shut down due to the war," Hitch kidded.

"Thanks," she said unenthusiastically. After a drink, they went to their respective quarters for the night.

Chapter 10

At 6:00 the next morning, two Red Cross trucks and two jeeps drove through the gates headed into the desert. Isla was seated between two men in the front seat of the first truck carrying instruments, costumes, sound and lighting equipment and several musicians. Hitch, in disguise, sat in the middle of the front seat in the second truck containing supplies, rations, extra gas and water and the remaining musicians.

The performing group was dressed in khaki slacks with matching tunic length, multi-pocketed, belted jackets with pale gold ascots at their throats. In addition, they wore Red Cross armbands, and combat helmets. Isla had replaced her ascot with a bright blue & gold silk scarf and decorated her helmet with a matching blue ribbon and some silk flowers.

Several hours later they stopped to cool the engines and refill the tanks. Moffitt took watch duty until Jenkins and Tully had finished resupplying the jeeps and trucks. Jenkins relieved Moffitt so the sergeants could discuss their position, and everyone sipped water from the canteens. Several of the men walked away from the trucks and turned their backs to relieve themselves where Isla couldn't see.

"Tad," she said quietly to Hitch, "Could you assist me?"

"What do you need?" He was having some difficulty with walking in the leg brace on the sand.

"I need a little privacy so I can answer the call of nature," she replied, taking something out of the back of the truck. He tried not to grin as he saw the object in her hand but thought it was a good indication that she was prepared for some situations that hadn't occurred to him. In her hands, she carried a folding square stool with the center cut out. He took a blanket from the back of the jeep and walked away from the men. He held the blanket as a privacy curtain, and she made use of her "toilet seat." She covered her business with sand, replaced the seat in the back of the truck and they continued on their way.

They stopped again after 2:00 in the protection of a wadi to care for the vehicles and eat a K-ration lunch. Tully was on watch and called down that an LRDG truck was approaching.

"Right on time," Moffitt approved and watched the British group pull in next to the jeeps.

"We've been watching Captain Dietrich's base for the past three days. The officers arrived two days ago, and they convened in Dietrich's office until yesterday. This morning they left at different times and took off in different directions back to their own bases," a British sergeant reported. We've made a sketch of the base and indicated where guards are stationed. They are very methodical with their shifts changing every two hours on the half-hour."

"Thanks," Troy said, "We appreciate your help."

"We'll be in the general area for the next day or so, if you need us," he replied, and the British patrol sped away. The jeeps continued on until they were about 20 miles from Dietrich's base. They pulled in behind the protection of several sand dunes.

"Time to contact our favorite German officer and get things rolling," Troy sounded almost gleeful. He picked up the radio microphone and began calling for Dietrich. Several minutes passed before the base responded and a nervous sounding German soldier answered in halting English that the Hauptman was coming.

When Dietrich answered Troy said, "Captain, if you are willing to enter into a truce with us, I can make it worth your while."

"Indeed, Sergeant Troy, you must know that I have far more important things to do than helping you do your job. Just what are you proposing?"

"We are escorting a non-partisan, civilian, non-combatant, performing group to Benghazi. We had an accident and one of my men needs medical attention. We need to get him to a field hospital not far from our location. The civilian leader is very adamant that they get to Benghazi on time, or their schedule will fall apart. She is quite insistent."

"She?" Captain Dietrich said.

"She," Troy continued. "She's an entertainer. She sings and dances and has a back-up band that accompanies her. I have assured her that you are a gentleman in every sense of the word and someone who is honorable and ethical."

"I am flattered, Sergeant," Dietrich said sarcastically.

"They need to be escorted the rest of the way to Benghazi arriving tomorrow afternoon. To show their appreciation, they would be willing to perform for you and your men tonight." There was silence while Dietrich considered the offer.

"I am willing to meet with you and the group leader to discuss this matter under a white flag. I assume this is not some elaborate charade to entrap my men?"

"You have my word, Captain. Here are the coordinates." Troy gave the information and turned off the radio. "Now, Moffitt, ready to have an accident?" Moffitt smiled in return.

An hour and a half later, Dietrich arrived in his kubelwagen with two halftracks at the designated coordinates. Troy walked ahead with a white flag, meeting the captain in between the two groups. Dietrich noticed Private Pettigrew behind the 50 in one jeep, the ever-present matchstick between his teeth. Private Hitchcock was behind the wheel, goggles protecting his eyes from the sand and blowing those incessant bubbles.

He couldn't understand how a man with such a disciplined mind like Troy could tolerate the two younger men and their annoying, disrespectful habits. He saw Sergeant Moffitt with his leg splinted and propped up on the jeep dashboard. It looked like there was a bone protruding from his leg and the bandages were stained with blood. Dietrich winced when he saw it.

"I'm sorry for your injury, Sergeant Moffit," he called, and Moffitt nodded an acknowledgement, his face lined with pain.

Next, Dietrich noticed some of the men sitting and standing next to the trucks. He quickly observed their disabilities and looked back to Troy who said, "They look like a bunch of misfits, but they performed for our base yesterday and are actually quite talented. Miss Gordon would like to meet you."

"She is the group leader?" Dietrich asked.

"Yes," Troy replied, "and I warn you, she can be quite persistent." He motioned for Isla to join them. She had removed her helmet and untied the scarf from her hair, so it fell about her shoulders before stepping out of the truck and approaching Dietrich.

"It is an honor to meet you, Herr Hauptman," she said with a ready smile and an outstretched hand. "Sergeant Troy has told me you might be willing to help us keep to our schedule. He says you are an honorable man of unimpeachable integrity and that I may trust you as I do him."

"Fraulein Gordon," the captain inclined his head and bowed to her.

"Please, call me Zu-Zu," she replied.

"Zu-Zu?" Dietrich was surprised.

"A nickname for Susanna," she smiled again. "I do hope you can assist us. We have engagements at hospitals all along the coast and if we miss one, our plans fall like dominoes. I have ten men with me, all musicians, most conscientious objectors, and all civilian neutrals from several countries," she explained. Looking into Dietrich's eyes, she said softly, "Many of them have disabilities but it doesn't interfere with their musical ability."

"Sergeant Troy has said you would be willing to perform for my men this evening. You would not object to performing for Germans? Do you not consider us to be enemies?" Dietrich's piercing dark brown eyes looked deeply into hers.

"Not at all, Hauptman. I have no enemies and neither do my men," she answered with sincerity. "We would be honored to perform for you."

"I can vouch for Miss Gordon and her men," Troy inserted. "If you are unable to escort them the rest of the way, they will have to return with us and break their schedule."

"Oh please, Herr Hauptman," she pleaded, "If you are as honorable as Sergeant Troy has described, please, help us so Sergeant Moffitt can get the care he needs, and we can keep our obligations."

"And you would not be afraid to enter a German base and be at my mercy?" Dietrich asked.

She studied his eyes for several moments before answering, "Are you a decent and honorable man?"

"I like to think so, Fraulein," he replied.

"I can see it in your eyes, Herr Hauptman, and I have Sergeant Troy's word. Yes, I will entrust my safety and that of my men into your care, if you are willing to come to our aid."

"Tell me, Fraulein, do you know any German songs?" Dietrich asked with a smile. Isla flashed her irresistible smile and responded,

"Yes, Hauptman Dietrich, I can sing Lili Marlene in German and my band can play several German marches," she replied. "So do we have a deal?"

"You will give me your word, Sergeant Troy, that they are what you proport them to be?" Dietrich looked at Troy.

"You have my word, captain," Troy assured him. "I have a manifest of their equipment in the trucks and a list of their performers. I can personally guarantee they carry no weapons but will understand if you wish to conduct a search."

"Of course, captain," Isla agreed. "Search if you think it is necessary. We have nothing to hide. I would only ask that you be respectful of our instruments and equipment, so they don't come to harm."

"We have a truce, Sergeant," Dietrich spoke to Troy. "I will be responsible for Fraulein Gordon's safety and that of her men, if they are what you say they are."

"Thank you, Hauptman Dietrich. I am so pleased," Isla beamed.

"Would you care to ride with me, or would you prefer to ride with your men?" Dietrich asked.

"If I ride with you, we can discuss the program for tonight and get better acquainted," she smiled in return. Troy told the musicians to return to their trucks.

"Thank you, Sergeant Troy, for your hospitality and help in making this possible," she shook hands with the sergeant. "I hope your leg is soon better, Sergeant Moffitt. Thank you for everything." Dietrich and Troy saluted one another, and Troy returned to the jeeps. She slipped her hand through Dietrich's arm and allowed him to help her into his kubelwagen.

The Rat Patrol watched them pull away before leaving in the opposite direction. They pulled into the protection of a wadi several miles later and began unbandaging Moffitt's "broken" leg.

"You really outdid yourself with the goat bone, Tully," Moffitt said. "At times, I thought I actually had a compound fracture."

"It was using the actual blood that sold it," Tully acknowledged as he unwrapped Moffitt's leg.

"Now we wait," Troy said. "I feel like a heel letting her go off like that."

"We're all uneasy about it, Sarge," Tully remarked. "But I think she'll be okay. I just hope Hitch can keep his cool."

"Yeah," Troy agreed. "Let's go over the plans for tonight."

Chapter 11

Isla and her musicians reached Dietrich's base. He had radioed ahead to have an outdoor performance area cleared, a temporary stage built, and several men were standing by to help unload the trucks and set up equipment. He had found Isla's company delightful and found her perfume rather enticing.

"How long will it take you to prepare for your performance?" Dietrich asked.

"With your men helping, we could be ready in about four hours. Shall we say 8:00? That will give me the time necessary to stretch and warm up my muscles for the ballet."

"Ballet?" Dietrich was surprised. "I haven't seen a ballet for years. I will look forward to watching you."

"It's only a few dance solos but I do so enjoy it," Isla said. "It helps when there is an appreciative audience."

"I believe you will considerably boost morale among my men, Fraulein," Dietrich gave a rare smile. "I have had quarters arranged for you and your group. Would you care to join me for dinner?"

"That would be lovely, Captain. However, I don't usually eat before a performance. Could we dine afterwards?"

"I will make the necessary arrangements. Now, I will leave you to prepare." Dietrich bowed and walked away.

By 8:00 p.m., most of the base personnel had gathered to watch. Those who were left on guard strained to hear the music and tried to get a glimpse of the show. Captain Dietrich and his officers were seated at a table close to the front of the stage. The band had changed into civilian clothing and Mark was wearing the battered fedora as he took his place on the piano stool.

The entertainment began with the band playing, Die Wacht am Rhein which got the audience on its feet singing along. Then Isla took the stage with an energetic tap dance that was greeted favorably by loud whistles, catcalls, and applause.

When the music began, the Rat Patrol slipped over the wall into the German base. They quickly and quietly made their way towards Dietrich's office. The guards on duty were often distracted by the sounds coming from the stage area. Using alleys and staying close to the buildings, the Americans made their way towards headquarters. A guard was posted outside the building, so they made their way to the one next door and climbed the side stairs to the roof. They climbed onto the roof of the headquarters building and prepared to lower themselves into Dietrich's office.

Tully used his long knife to open the window so Troy, Moffitt and Jenkins could enter. Tully remained on the roof to watch for trouble. Troy pulled the blackout curtains over the windows before turning on a small flashlight.

"Okay Jenkins, here's where your special talents come into play." The corporal knelt down in front of the safe and using a stethoscope, began to turn the dial. In a few minutes, he opened the door.

"Piece of cake, as Moffitt says," he remarked with a grin. Moffitt moved to the safe and found the plans. Spreading them on the desk, he quickly photographed the pages. Placing them back in the envelope, they returned them to the safe exactly how they had been found.

Uncovering the windows, they made their way out the same way they had entered. Tully again used his knife, this time restoring the latch into place, and they made their way to the wall. Twice they ducked back into the alley when a guard came into view. They could hear Isla singing and then the Germans were singing along while the band played several German popular songs. The guards were neglecting their posts as they sang along as well. Reaching the wall, they scurried over and made their way to where the jeeps were hidden. They could hear Isla singing Lili Marlene in the distance.

They stayed close by until the end of the concert.

The concert went very smoothly, and Dietrich was entranced watching Isla perform. He was appreciative of the German music they had included, and the men seemed to be inspired by singing together. The crowd grew quiet as the final song was announced in honor of Captain Dietrich.

As a cello and the piano began to play, a spotlight hit the stage. Slowly entering from the side, dancing quietly and gracefully, the light revealed Isla dressed in a white, feathered tutu and headpiece. The audience, especially Dietrich, was mesmerized as they watched her portray the last moments of a dying swan. When the dance was completed, there was silence as the men struggled with their emotions and the beauty they had witnessed. Dietrich absently brushed away a tear before standing and applauding. As the silence was broken, the men followed suit with loud applause and a standing ovation.

Isla took her bow and indicated applause for her musicians. When she was able to be heard, she thanked them all for attending and allowing them to perform. She gave special thanks to Captain Dietrich for making it possible. The men applauded their commanding officer before dispersing to return to their duties.

In the cover of a wadi not far from the German camp, the Rat Patrol made camp for the night. The film of the German plans would be given to the commanding officer at Benghazi when they arrived the next day. Their thoughts were with Isla's safety and the hope their youngest Rat was keeping his cover.

Captain Dietrich stepped onto the stage where the musicians were busy packing away their instruments and Isla was speaking to the pianist in French. She was still in the swan costume.

"I must congratulate you on your beautiful performance, Fraulein," he said, kissing her hand.

"Thank you, so much, Captain, I'm glad you enjoyed it," she beamed at him. The pianist said something to her in French and she quickly cut him off. Turning back to Dietrich she said, "Please give me a few minutes to get out of this and I will join you for dinner."

"Take all the time you need, I will wait here," he replied. He didn't notice the dirty look made by the pianist.

While he waited, the musicians and the soldiers assigned to help them began loading equipment and instruments into the trucks. The captain's aide approached to tell him the dinner preparations were ready. He reported all was well except for an altercation between two of the men over not being able to see the show.

Within fifteen minutes, Isla appeared looking fresh and vibrant in a flowing deep blue evening gown and long white gloves.

"You look lovely, Fraulein," Dietrich complimented her, and she took his arm.

"Thank you, Captain," she smiled and told her crew she would see them later. They wished her well, except for the pianist who stumbled and dropped a pile of musical arrangements.

Dietrich led her to a small private dining room where a candlelight table for two had been set with linens, china, crystal, and silver. A small fire burned in the fireplace against the chill of the desert evening.

"Why, Captain, this is delightful," she exclaimed.

"I am glad it pleases you, Fraulein," he held her chair while she sat.

"Zu-Zu," she reminded him.

"Zu-Zu," he repeated. A private waited at table, and soft classical music played in the background, courtesy of a phonograph and record collection.

Over dinner they discussed her musical and dance training and how she came to entertain soldiers in North Africa. She discovered he had spent time in his youth growing up in Africa where he learned to speak Arabic.

"Tell me, Zu-Zu, how did Sergeant Moffitt injure his leg? It appeared to be quite severe," he asked as he refilled her wine glass.

"Oh captain, it was terrible," she said and her face paled. "I've never seen anything so horrific. He was on top of a rocky dune keeping watch. When he stepped back, the rocks shifted and came tumbling down. He came with them. They had to dig to get him out and when I saw that bone sticking out of his leg and the blood, I fainted. By the time I came to, they had him bandaged and in the jeep. The bloody bandage almost made me pass out again. I would never make a good nurse," she said sipping her wine.

"I imagine he will be quite some time in his recovery," Dietrich remarked. "It's rather a shame, I shall miss his presence however, his absence might enable me to finally capture Sergeant Troy's unit."

"I wasn't with Sergeant Troy for very long, but I have to say you remind me of him. I'm no expert, of course, but you both seem to share certain qualities and personality traits," she said observing him. "Both of you command the respect of your men and are very committed to your duty. You are both honorable and conscientious with strong moral values. In other circumstances I could see you being friends."

"I must confess, I have sometimes thought it would be nice to share a beer and not be trying to kill one another," Dietrich smiled.

"I don't understand war and why it is necessary," she said pensively. "I don't see the need for all the death and destruction. I guess I'm naïve, I believe everything can be talked out and middle ground discovered so people don't have to die."

"And yet," Dietrich said quietly, "If it weren't for this war, I would never have had the opportunity for such a delightful evening with you."

"Now you're sounding more like Private Hitchcock," she laughed, "although you are far more suave and debonair."

"I take that as a compliment," he joined her laugh.

"Most definitely," she agreed. The private changed the record on the phonograph and a piece by Richard Strauss filled the air.

"Oh, a waltz," Isla closed her eyes and said longingly, "I haven't waltzed in so long." Dietrich stood and held out his hand to her.

"Would you allow me a dance?" he asked. Her face brightened and she placed her hand in his. They danced together and when the record ended, Dietrich commanded the private to put on another. The sexual tension between them was almost palpable and Isla felt herself deeply drawn to the handsome captain. She could tell he felt likewise and with an effort was keeping his actions in check. At the end of several dances, he stroked her cheek and leaned in for a deep kiss which she gladly gave. They broke apart somewhat embarrassed and returned to the table.

"Somehow I don't think Sergeant Troy would think I was keeping my part of the bargain. I apologize for my ungentlemanly behavior," he said, clearing his throat.

"We must share in the blame," she blushed lightly. "I promise to keep better rein on my actions. I do thank you, captain, for the dances." You waltz like a dream. You're very light on your feet."

"It was entirely due to my partner," he raised his glass to her. "I must say you surprise me, Fraulein, pardon me, Zu-Zu."

"In what way?" She was curious.

"It has always been very difficult for me to understand those who claim to be neutral. I tend to think in more concrete terms: black or white, yes or no, right or wrong. I can't understand having such control of my thoughts and feelings to not be involved," he struggled to explain.

"But I am involved, captain," she remarked. "Just on my own terms."

"Yes, I was very moved by your program tonight, the way you included German songs and allowed my men to sing along. It made me realize you were exactly what you presented yourselves to be and on behalf of my men, I am extremely grateful."

"Thank you, captain, for your warm reception, the dinner and conversation, the waltzes, and your protection. You are everything Sergeant Troy said and more. It has been an honor and a privilege for me to be with you and your men," she said sincerely. "And now, I'm afraid, I must get some rest so we can leave early in the morning."

"Of course," he said and escorted her to a guest room in the same building. At the door he kissed her hand and bid her goodnight.

Closing the door, she bolted it and walked to the window. As she gazed out she noticed a small light blink once and go dark. She drew the curtains and smiled to herself. Hitch had seen that she was safe in her room and gone to bunk down for the night with the rest of the band.

Isla sat on the edge of the bed and began to tremble as she relaxed from the ordeal of the day. So far, Sergeant Troy had been correct about Dietrich, except for that kiss, and it was comforting to know Mark was close by. Then she was overcome by feelings of betraying her country and everything she believed in. It made her stomach turn over just thinking about the German music they had performed and their inclusion of the soldiers in singing. And that kiss. She had kissed a German officer; an enemy; and she had enjoyed it. Someone in fact who had injured her best friend and his patrol on numerous occasions. They hadn't said as much but she could tell. Dietrich had caused much pain among them, in spite of his honor.

Slowly she undressed and got ready for bed. She kept reminding herself that it was all a farce to create a necessary diversion for Sergeant Troy and his men to complete their mission. She assumed it was successful since there had been no gunfire or reports to Captain Dietrich.

The captain was a greater surprise than she had imagined. He was handsome, charming, and danced divinely. Yet, he was the enemy. She felt so ashamed of how she had used him. She had never liked subterfuge or deception and here she was up to her eyeballs in both. She worried for the men in the band. If their real identities were discovered, she could be responsible for putting them in danger. After much tossing and turning, she finally fell asleep, hopeful of reaching the safety of Benghazi the next day.

Dietrich entered his office before retiring for the night. He couldn't shake the feeling that the Rat Patrol had somehow heard of the military conference and made a trip to discover their plans. He checked his safe, noticing the dial was still set in the same position in which it had been left. The envelope with the plans were exactly as they had been placed in the safe.

Usually, a trip from the desert rats involved a lot of chaos and explosions but nothing of that sort had happened. Perhaps he was just jumpy from his meeting with the other officers. Surely Sergeant Troy wouldn't place a civilian woman in such danger and where would they have found such a talent in North Africa, especially on such short notice.

He poured himself a drink and drank it slowly as he remembered how she felt in his arms as they danced and the beauty of her portrayal of the swan. She was a unique talent indeed and he found himself wishing there was no war, so he could spend more time with her. He would savor the memory of their shared kiss for a long time to come.

Chapter 12

In the morning she dressed in her "uniform" and packed her bags in preparation for departure. Her hair was braided about her head, and she carried her combat helmet as she met Captain Dietrich for a quick breakfast. The sun was just beginning to rise as the two Red Cross trucks pulled up to the headquarters building accompanied by two halftracks and their crews. Dietrich's kubelwagen was in front. While Dietrich gave final orders to the officer he was leaving in charge, Isla said good morning to her men. Hitch, in disguise, came forward and took her bags, giving her a wink, before stowing them in the back of the truck.

Dietrich assisted Isla into the back seat of the Kubelwagen then took his seat beside her. Giving an order to proceed, they moved out across the desert. Keeping out of sight, two jeeps followed at a distance to make sure all was well.

Around two in the afternoon, three miles from the British base at Benghazi, Dietrich had his men stop. A British LRDG unit and a Crusader tank were waiting for them under a white flag. The British sergeant met with Dietrich and Isla halfway between their vehicles. The two soldiers saluted one another while the two Red Cross trucks continued toward the base. Isla turned to Dietrich and offered her hand.

"I am so very grateful to you, Captain, for coming to our aid. I have so enjoyed our time together and I thank you for your hospitality," she said with a wide smile. Dietrich kissed her hand and replied,

"It is I who is grateful, Fraulein. It has been a great pleasure meeting you and I cannot thank you enough for what you did for my men. I will carry the memory of your swan with me always."

"Then I shall leave you with this, not in the traditional sense of cowardice, but as a small token of remembrance," she gave him a white feather from her swan tutu. She again thanked him and kissed him lightly on the cheek before allowing the British sergeant to assist her into the LRDG truck. With a sigh, Dietrich took his place in the kubelwagen and returned to his duty.

Once safely in the British base, the Red Cross trucks parked near the recreation hall which was being transformed into a performance area. Lt. Davidson and Isla reported to Major Lawrence, the base commander to make their report. The musicians got their room assignments, then began to unload the trucks and prepare for the next day's performance. Isla went to her assigned room in the guest quarters to freshen up.

Her feelings of betrayal and self-recrimination returned more deeply than the night before. She felt nauseated and the nervous shuddering returned. She fought back tears and tried to calm herself. Someone knocked on the door and she wobbly went to open it.

Hitch, minus his disguise, was still dressed in the performer's "uniform."

"You did GREAT," he said enthusiastically entering the room. "I brought your luggage," he placed two suitcases on the floor and a cosmetic case on a table. She moved to him and placed her arms around him with her head on his shoulder.

"What's all this?" he asked, "You're trembling."

"I'll be okay," she whispered, "just hold me for a bit."

"Sure," Hitch kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. "You're fine," he said soothingly, stroking her hair. "It's just the adrenaline wearing off. I've got you. You're okay." At this she began to quietly cry. "Hey, Zu-Zu, this isn't like you," he was growing concerned. "Did something happen with Dietrich? He didn't try anything, did he?" Hitch was becoming alarmed. She shook her head and pulled away.

"No," she said softly, reaching for a handkerchief tucked into her jacket pocket. "He was every bit the gentlemen you and Sam said he was," she dabbed at her eyes and quietly blew her nose. Haltingly she explained her thoughts and feelings.

"I feel like I've betrayed everything I hold dear," she began, and he led her to a small sofa in the room. They sat together with him cradling her against his chest. "I'm so ashamed from all the deception. I thought I was doing my duty to my country, but I feel like I've aided and abetted the enemy. And Dietrich was so nice, and I couldn't help but like him but he's the enemy and I performed for him and his men. I ate dinner with him, and we danced, and I kissed him" she took a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes again. "And I sang those Nazi songs with them. I feel like a traitor."

"Shh," he quietened her. "You are none of those things and what you did was in service to your country and the war effort. We couldn't have gotten those plans without your help. All of us have had to do things in this war that we never thought we would ever be called upon to do, but we did it because it was our duty. You're a hero and I'm so proud of how you handled everything. I was so stupid for thinking you shouldn't get involved."

"Do you really believe that or are you just trying to make me feel better," she looked up at him.

"I mean every word," he assured her, and she dried her eyes on her handkerchief. "I think you could use a strong cup of tea," he said standing up. "Would you like to find the mess hall with me and see if we can find one? Or maybe a shot of bourbon?" She managed a small smile and nodded her head,

"Let me fix my face. I must look a mess," she opened her cosmetic case and tended to her make-up.

"Zu-Zu, there is never a time when you aren't beautiful," he smiled back.

"Thanks, Tadpole," she replied, squeezing his hand, and looking into his eyes. She kissed his cheek, and they went to find the mess hall.

They were drinking cups of strong tea and coffee while eating English muffins in the near empty mess hall when the Rat Patrol arrived. The four men grabbed the beverage of their choice and some doughnuts before joining them at the table. They were enthusiastic in their praise for Isla's part in the mission.

"You were wonderful, Isla," Moffitt said enjoying a deep drink of tea.

"You really were," Troy agreed, "We couldn't have done it without you." She bit her lip to keep from crying again. They noticed her eyes were red and became worried.

"Are you alright, Isla?" Tully was concerned.

"She's fine," Hitch assured them, "Just coming down from the adrenaline and feeling a bit conflicted about the deception."

"You should be very proud," Troy said confidently. She took a deep breath and tremulously replied,

"I hope to be at some point. I'm just processing everything that happened. Did you get the photographs you needed?"

"Thanks to you, we did with very little trouble," Moffitt answered. "They've been given to Major Lawrence for developing. What did you think of Captain Dietrich?" She closed her eyes, bit her lip again, and took a deep breath.

"Later," Hitch said protectively. "She's not much in the mood for talking right now."

"Nothing like a good bracing cup of tea to make things tickety-boo," Moffitt pronounced, "And if I'm not mistaken, I'm getting a whiff of whiskey."

"Only in hers. We found a very understanding cook," Hitch indicated Isla's cup.

"Tickety-boo?" Troy and Tully said together.

"Perfectly good phrase for getting things back in order," Moffitt sipped his tea with a smile.

Turning to Jenkins, Hitch said, "I'll take those back," he reached for his kepi and ring.

"You are welcome to them. I don't ever want to ride with your group again. You do some crazy stuff," Jenkins responded and Hitch grinned.

"And we didn't even engage with the Germans," Tully commented.

"How's my jeep?" Hitch tried to be stern.

"She's fine and she's all yours," Jenkins said taking a drink of his coffee. Hitch looked at Tully for confirmation.

"He did okay," Tully nodded. "But I'm glad to have you back."

"Since everything went well, I guess I'll have to commend you, Hitch, and say I'm proud of you for not blowing your cover," Troy told his driver.

"It wasn't easy," Hitch remarked. Noticing Isla had grown quieter, he stood up and said, "I think Isla needs to get some rest. It's been a trying couple of days for her and she can't hold her whiskey. Puts her right to sleep. I'm going to walk her back to her quarters and then head to the motor pool to check on Bertha."

"I need to take care of Olive. I'll meet you there," Tully said draining his cup of tea.

She joined the four rats for breakfast the next morning and Troy asked, "Are you feeling better?"

"I'm getting there," she said quietly with a brief smile. "Not quite tickety-boo, but better." Troy returned the smile and shook his head at the quaint and oh-so-terribly British phrase.

"So," she said when they finished eating. "The powers in charge have decided we should do a show tonight in case word gets back to Captain Dietrich." She removed a clipboard with papers from her bag. "What do you think we should include." They were each quick to request certain songs and dances.

"I was thinking of omitting the swan," she suggested.

"No!" they were quick to disagree.

"I think you'll find a most appreciative audience among the Brits," Moffitt assured her. "That is, if you feel up to it."

"How can I say no to you guys?" she relented. "I'll keep it in the program, but Mark knows my price."

"Massage your ugly feet?" he said with a smirk.

"Exactly," she returned the grin.

"Hitch," Moffit was shocked, "that's not very nice. I'm sure your feet are lovely, Isla, like the rest of you."

"Thank you, Jack, but actually I believe my feet are ugly. Dancers work them too hard and ask them to do too many unnatural things," she answered. "Mark, we're going to have a quick rehearsal at five o'clock and perform at 7:00."

Jenkins joined them at the table and wished them a good morning.

"It feels good to be myself, again," he said, and they noticed his hair had been cut shorter and combed differently than when he was doubling for Hitch. His corporal stripes were back in place on his sleeve."

"What's going to happen with you, now?" Troy asked.

"I'm heading out in the morning with the convoy taking your musicians back to their bases. I'm looking forward to the show tonight since I was busy when you last performed."

"We're grateful for your help and wish you the best," Tully said. "Hope you'll remember what you learned about driving."

"You were a good teacher," Jenkins admitted. "Maybe we'll meet up again, sometime."

"Look forward to it," Tully agreed.

"Now, Isla," Troy announced as they exited the mess hall. "We have a little surprise for you in appreciation for all you did."

"Oh, Sam, it's not necessary," she began but was cut off.

"No, No," Troy continued. "We promised you a day at the beach so grab your swimsuit and meet us at the motor pool in 30 minutes."

"Seriously?" she was excited.

"Most definitely," Moffitt assured her.

"Do I get to drive?" she asked mischievously.

"We'll see," Troy laughed.

They spent several hours swimming in the Mediterranean Sea and Isla took pictures with her camera. A friend of Troy's stationed in Benghazi came along and Isla was introduced to the lovely, British Sergeant Victoria "Vixen" Moore who had brought 2 friends along for Moffitt and Tully. Isla got her foot massage from Hitch, and the guys noticed her feet weren't quite as grotesque as she had implied. They returned to the base in time for her to warm up and prepare for the performance which was greatly appreciated by the British soldiers.

Afterward, Hitch walked her to her quarters. "So, now that you've been on an actual mission, I guess you're an honorary member of the Rat Patrol," he said.

"That's very flattering, but I think I'll stick with dancing. I don't think I could do this on a regular basis. I'm so impressed by how you and your friends handle this as if it was nothing. You're all extremely brave and clever. I can see why Captain Dietrich both admires you and wants to put an end to your interference," she replied.

"We feel the same way," Hitch assured her. "Thanks for your help Zu-Zu. We couldn't have done it without you. If there were medals for civilians for meritorious service, you would definitely qualify."

They reached her room and Hitch kissed her on the cheek. "Goodnight, Zu-Zu and thanks again. Are you feeling better?" She smiled and likewise kissed him.

"Tickety-boo, Tadpole," she replied.

Still more to come.