After fleeing the wadi, the rats had sought the nearest cover among the low hills that pockmarked the area. The hill they chose was crusted with boulders like barnacles on a ship, providing plenty of places for the men to conceal themselves; as well as an uninterrupted view down the wadi alley. Troy wasn't worried about Jaeger coming to find them, because Jaeger himself didn't seem too anxious to sniff them out. In the wadi, he set the rules of engagement; in the desert, all bets were off. He had been dealt a good hand by Chance, and he wasn't going to jeopardize it by going after these commandoes.

Troy studied the German position carefully through his field glasses. He was careful to avoid dwelling on the dark figure in the middle of the wadi road, that would only provoke him. Exactly what the Major wanted. They had to stay cool and rational, their very lives depended on it.

The convoy they had been baited with earlier was picking itself up and getting ready to move out. Both of the sandy colored tanks were likewise preparing to move. That still left two halftracks, a troop transport, and twenty men in the pass, against three men and a jeep.

"Troy, there's something happening down there," Moffitt hissed. Troy swiveled his glasses to see.

Two Germans were approaching Tully's still form. One of them, loosely holding his MP 40, kicked Tully in his middle rolling him onto his back. The second soldier unscrewed a water canteen and poured a little into Tully's mouth, and most of it over his face. He choked and spluttered the water, becoming conscious again.

"Jaeger is wiggling the bait."

"Obviously," Moffitt agreed. "It's good you sent Hitch away." Troy didn't answer that remark, but he suspected its truth. This wasn't easy to watch.

Hitch was fuming after Jaeger's stunt; Troy had sent him back to guard the jeep and cool off. He wouldn't have done anything stupid, but his volatile nature was his greatest weakness. Their emotions were Jaeger's strength.

"Troy, the convoy is moving out." The rumble of the mighty engines filled the pass. "What do you think of our chances in a rear attack?"

"Not good."

"I was afraid you'd do that," Moffitt sighed.

Troy lowered his glasses, "Do what?"

"Say what I was thinking," he afforded a wry smile. "Jaeger is more secure than the Crown Jewels at the moment."

"Maybe he could be lured on a chase?"

Moffitt looked askance at Troy's proposal, "Perhaps over Tully's dead body." He shook his head, "No, Herr Major would see through such an obvious ploy."

"Shh, Moffitt-do you hear that?" Both sergeants sat poised, not even breathing. A familiar voice was shouting, but the sound was quickly soaked up by the desert sand.

"-Jaeger!! You're a bloody fool, they're...long gone..." the voice trailed off, too quiet for them to hear.

A slow smile thawed Troy's frown, "That dumb kid."

"Americans. It's never the wrong time to shoot off your mouths," Moffitt growled worriedly.

Both sergeants jumped at the sound of crunching rocks behind them. Hitch inched up to the hill crest on his stomach, sans kepi and glasses.

"You were told to stay with the jeep," Troy hissed.

"I heard the trucks leaving, what's happened?" Troy handed over his glasses and rubbed his aching eyes. An argument now wouldn't help anything.

"It's a pity we couldn't destroy that convoy," Moffitt watched the last trucks in the train shift into gear and drive away.

"It's a non-priority at the moment," Troy snapped.

"Only wishful thinking, old boy."

Hitch turned his back to the scene and avoided looking Troy in the eyes as he handed back the field glasses, "I've got a few wishes of my own."


The afternoon advanced incredibly fast and impossibly slowly. Their only proof that time was still moving was the sun overhead and the dropping water levels in their canteens. The seconds ticked away like sand in an hourglass until Troy was buried beneath them. He thought he would suffocate before much longer. The heat and the silence settled on their shoulders like rucksacks they couldn't run from.

Jaeger's soldiers periodically left the herd to punch and kick Tully awake whenever he passed out. Which seemed to be happening with greater frequency. Troy watched through the binoculars as they kicked him and jabbed him in the leg with their rifles, and as soon as they left, the southerner would roll onto his side with his back to the sun. At first they gave him water to keep him awake, but soon the water stopped coming. The sand and his pant leg were stained red.

At first they had heard him shouting at Jaeger; telling him the Rats were long gone, that he was a fool to be sitting in the desert while the Rat Patrol ran free. After an hour his jeers turned into moans. After another hour, they heard his dry, cracked voice again when he shouted their names to the sky. He called to each one of his teammates by name. No message, just their name.

None of the three men could stand it for much longer.

"Troy, we've got to do something, anything!"

"You're going to call me crazy... but I have a plan."


"Troy, you're crazy." Moffitt whispered as the three Rats walked into the wadi with their hands up. Troy never had a chance to answer.

"HALT!! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" Moffitt and Troy undid their gun-belts and let them fall with weighty thuds.

Major Jaeger shouted from the safety of the second halftrack

"I am pleased you made the intelligent choice, Sergeant. Approach slowly and bring your wounded comrade." He added sarcastically, "Be grateful your part in the war is over."

The three rats approached Tully's deathly still form. Jaeger studied their every move through field glasses. He noticed the young blond soldier's hands shaking slightly, though it didn't seem to be fear. Sunlight glinted off two rings on his middle fingers; twin, thin, silver rings. Jaeger lowered the glasses.

"Troy, I only count nine men, what happened to the other eleven??" Moffitt hissed. A warning shout rang out from above and behind the rats,

"HERR MAJOR!" The jig was up.

Troy dove across Tully, covering him with his body. Hitch flicked his hand and, like a grim magic trick, a green oval appeared in his hand, attached to the silver ring on his finger. Hitch pulled the pin and lobbed his grenade in a graceful arch like a rainbow. But there was no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow, only a pot of death.

Hitch and Moffitt hit the ground a split second before the first halftrack exploded sending up a pillar of fire from the burning husk. Luckily trapping the second halftrack behind the mangled corpse of his brother.

Bullets were already starting to rain down all around them, lying in the dirt. Moffitt and Troy pulled their pistols from behind, where they'd been stashed in their belts. They had correctly guessed a holster full of sand acts the same as a holster full of gun.

Moffitt flipped onto his back and began firing at the wadi walls. Bodies came sprawling over the edge like Wermacht dolls falling off a shelf.

Troy focused on picking off any jerrys who dared to poke their heads out from behind the vehicles.

Pulling the pin of the second grenade, Hitch popped up long enough to let it fly. In a pitch Robinson would envy, the grenade hit the ground and skittered under the belly of the second halftrack where it detonated, disabling it completely.

Troy tossed his pistol to Hitch, and gathering an unconcious Tully into his arms, ran back out of the wadi. Moffitt and Hitch followed, covering his retreat.


"He's coming around!" Moffitt's excited voice brought Hitch and Troy to the makeshift bed in the jeep.

"Who?..Wha-?.." was all the groggy voice could say. Moffitt poured a little water between Tully's pale lips and patted his clammy forehead with a rag.

"You went into neurogenic shock today, don't try to move or speak." Moffitt himself had a bandage on his cheek and wrapped around his left forearm from strays in the crossfire.

Hitch gently rested his hand on Tully's shoulder, "We're only cooling the engine, and then we're gonna floor it all the way back to base." Hitch's right arm hung in a sling, the result of a pulled muscle from overextending his baseball skills.

Tully looked blankly from Moffitt to Hitch, like he'd never heard english spoken before. Troy stared him in the eye and, using all the authority he could muster gave him one order,

"Rest." Whether Tully recognized that word, the tone of voice, or Sam, the other two rats could never agree. But Tully did drift back to sleep soon after that. And not long after, the lone olive jeep was speeding back to base across the sunset sands.