I didn't know all this. I could hear the roaring engine and the storm of firing that followed. It would be suicide to attack the tank cars in full view, I thought. Better first dispose of the three that lay in the bottom of the ravine. I nodded to Lim and we started down. It was slow work at the bottom. In places the river ran right to the edge of the cliff and we had to scramble around on the big boulders or climb up and down the rough rock face, but we made progress and eventually we stood under the shattered bridge. Down here the light was dimmer and the sound of water washing around the wreckage deadened the noise of the sporadic firing above. In mid-stream the rearmost tank car lay on its side, split open by the fall. The other two, though buckled, were intact. They had toppled off to the side of the bridge and now lay across the big rocks on our side of the river in the shape of a twisted Z. Lim laid down his gun and started to work. His lungs heaving in his poor sick chest, he scrambled over the rocks and then disappeared under the middle tank car. He came back up dripping wet and motioned for a demolition charge. I crawled to him and gave him one. Between gasps for breath and above the noise of the water and the echoing battle he shouted in my ear.
"I'm going to blow this one from underneath, at the lowest point above the water, so all the stuff will drain out."
I nodded in approval and he disappeared again. In a couple of minutes he was back. "We have about five minutes," he cried, his voice shaky with fatigue. "Let's get the other one."
I pulled him to his feet, where he stood shivering with cold and exhaustion, and picked up the guns and charges. We moved to the second car. This one was propped up at an angle with the low end dug into a patch of sand, easy to get at. I handed him another explosive and he jammed it against the steel, in the sand. He was about to activate the fuse when suddenly he straightened, twisted half around to face me and fell forward. The echoes of the shot ricochetted off the walls of the gorge. I estimated it came from across the water and in the same instant made a diving run for cover. I hit hard and rolled behind a small boulder as another shot hit it and whined away into the air. I was thinking fast. Some of the Reds must have been trying a sneak attack across the bottom of the gorge and had seen us at work. In spite of our uniforms it was obvious from what we were doing that we weren't friendly. I'd be marked down and shot if I tried to get back and ignite the last fuse. And there wasn't time now. I had to get out of there! The first charge might explode that full car like a can of tomato juice, spraying death in all directions. I was trying to get up the nerve to dash for safety when the shouts came from behind me. It was Makstutis, with Kang and Hip Sing. They had crawled up close to me when the fighting started.
"Doc! Doc!" Makstutis was yelling, "Get that last fuse started. We'll keep their heads down."
"Get back!" I screamed frantically. "The other tank is gonna explode. It'll cover you with virus."
"That's rough, Doc," Makstutis called back calmly, "but what's four men compared to millions. Better get cracking."
I felt ashamed, physically sick and disgusted. I had a chance and they had none and yet, facing that death, they could still think of others while all I wanted to do was to lie there, afraid even to run. Oh, I could blame my sick mind or my weakened physical state. They would excuse it on those grounds and never say a word to me no matter what I did. But I knew better. Today I was beaten down while better men than I were still fighting.
I was up and running with the nausea of moral defeat rising in my guts. Quitter! The one word I feared above all ... and it applied to me. Better to die now than have to live the rest of my miserable life with it. I felt a heavy blow on my back that threw me off stride. At the same time I heard the crack of a small mortar shell behind me and something sharp and stinging penetrated my right hip. They must be lobbing them across at extremely short range, trying to drop in behind the rocks and get my riflemen. A burp gun gnattered and chewed up the sand beside me as I reached the tank car but stopped abruptly as somebody blasted back. I stooped down and activated the fuse. I was halfway back across the open sandy patch when the first tanker blew up.
CHAPTER 15
There was a faint smell of decay, of cold moist flesh, in the air. I shoved up from the sand and rose wearily to my feet. I looked down and saw the wet stain spreading over me from the back. My legs felt damp. I was too tired to care. The odor of the virus culture, of the bleeding death, was in my nose and mouth and I was too tired to care. I staggered past a rocky outcrop and almost fell. Sergeant Kang reached for me from cover.
"Don't touch me," I protested weakly. "The stuff's all over me."
"Some of it got us too, Doc. Better let me help you get away before the next one goes up."
We advanced cautiously up the ravine away from the bridge. The second tank car had blown and there was no pursuit. Apparently our men on the rim of the gorge had pinned down the attackers or else the horror of the bleeding death had driven them away. Now that my aching chest had eased a bit I could think again. We went around a couple of bends and the sound of firing died away.
"We've got to get this virus off, it's our only hope," I said.
"OK Doc," Makstutis was agreeable. "Whatever you say. The damn stuff stinks like a frightened polecat."
I led the way along the stream and found a chest-deep pool with a fast water flow. I walked right in, gun, helmet, jack boots and all, and thrashed around for a moment under water.
"Now you do the same," I said when I came out.
I had some soap in my pocket and Hip Sing produced another bar. With one man standing guard, we undressed and scrubbed ourselves and then our clothes and weapons as thoroughly as possible while the light faded. Numbly I noticed a large hole in my jacket and a ragged tear in the plastic suit. I shook the suit and a piece of iron two inches square fell out. No wonder my ribs were sore and my chest ached! Makstutis saw it fall and grinned at me crookedly.
"Your lucky day, ain't it, Doc?"
"Yeah, out of the frying pan, now into the fire. Wait until tomorrow."
He shrugged. "That's the way the rocket roars."
We wrung out the water as best we could and wiped it off the guns. I felt better from the cold bath though I was weary to the crying stage. The wound in my thigh was small and not troubling me much so I let it alone.
"That should help a little," I surmised when we were dressed again. "At least it may protect the others from the disease."
We were starting to climb back up the side of the gorge when an ear-battering crash rolled up the river to meet us. Then there was silence.
I don't remember too much about that climb back up the gorge. I know I fell often and always there was a helping hand, a quiet word. We got back to the bridge in darkness and were stopped by Kim's guards. The fight was over. They had been waiting for us. Four men were dead, three in the fight for the train and Lim in the river bed. Two more were wounded in the arm and head but could walk. One man had a broken leg. I vaguely remembered telling Kim how to splint it with poles cut from brush and giving him some morphine. I didn't like the risk of exposing any of them to the bleeding death but there wasn't much I could do about it right then except try not to touch anyone. Makstutis, the two NCO's and I, kept apart from everyone else and waited for the fever to strike. We kept going in the darkness, a darkness that became a dream world to me except for the steady support of hands at my elbows and the slow dragging of my feet as I lifted them and put them forward. Just one more step; one step more; one more step; one step more. We stopped and the hands released me. I crumpled where I stood and slept.
I woke to a pattern of shifting light and shade beyond my closed eyelids and a cool wind that blew across my face. I opened my eyes and slowly they focused on the leaves that rustled above me. The aching misery of my legs and body forced itself into my brain and carefully, deliberately, I sat up. We were in a thickly wooded valley. A tiny clearing opened from where I sat, bisected by a narrow stream. On the other side, about ten yards away, Kim and his men moved about quietly, cooking the last of their rice on a dry wood fire that gave no smoke. I stood up for a moment while specks whirled before my eyes as my blood pressure dropped. The feeling passed. I was still damnably weak but better than yesterday. I looked around for my companions in isolation and saw them squatting close to their own fire. They seemed normal. So far so good! We might have another twelve to twenty-four hours before the hemorrhagic fever started to raise hell with us. By that time, with luck, we could be holed up in our refuge. Maybe Anders would be able to help us. At the worst, as he was immune, he could take care of us and feed us.
I was still not completely aroused when Makstutis came over with a mixed mess of hot rice and kimchi in a ration can.
"Here's your bacon and eggs, Colonel," he grinned irrepressibly. The man just wouldn't give in, I thought. "How do you feel this morning?"
"Pretty good, considering," I replied.
I finished eating and walked down to the stream to splash some water on my face. Kim was there, washing up. I kept down-stream from him.
"How are you feeling, sir?" he said, towelling his face with his undershirt.
"OK so far, Kim. I need a cigarette. Have you got any? No, not your packet! Just one. I'll ask again if I need it." I caught the black Russian weed he threw at me and dragged gratefully. "I didn't see much of the fighting at the bridge after Makstutis threw the switch," I said, sitting down on a boulder. "I was down in the bottom of the gorge most of the time. Clue me in on what happened."
He squatted comfortably on his heels, oriental style, and I was momentarily amused at how quickly he had reverted from his western training.
"When the bridge fell down," he began, "the boys along the canyon rim all fired on the coach stuck in the approaches across the way. A lot of the Reds were hit getting out of it but a lot more made it and started a firefight across the canyon with us. That lasted quite a while."
"I saw the beginning of it," I said.
"I heard from Makstutis that some of them got down in the bottom and shot at you and you were hit."
"That's true, but I was hit by mortar fragments. Did he tell you that I'd never have got out if it hadn't been for him and his two men?"
"No, he didn't. He did tell me you all got splashed with that virus stuff."
"We sure did, and nobody except Anders is to come near us until we find out if we're going to get the fever or not. But what happened to you?"
"While the fight was going on back and forth across the canyon," he began again, "the engineer tried to take off with what was left of his train ... it broke apart just ahead of the first tank car. He almost did it too! The two men I had posted up above, on either side of the cutting, couldn't do much as they were firing down at too steep an angle. They did manage to keep the Commies' heads inside the coach, however, and, when the train started up the grade, five of us were able to scramble up on the flat cars, leaving the other six guys to finish the fight at the bridge. Two of them were killed later on by an unlucky mortar shell burst.
"As soon as we got on the flat car I put a half a dozen burp gun pellets straight down the middle of the passenger coach and while they were wondering what to do about it, Tommy Lin sneaked up close and threw a grenade through the glass of the back door. But he didn't hold it long enough. Somebody fielded it and threw it right back before it could explode. Lucky for us he was too strong. It bounced out past the door and rolled over the side just as it went off. About that time I figured we had to stop the train or they'd take us to Vladivostok, so Tommy and little Rhee Sung boosted me up on the roof.... It took both of them to do it ... while the other guys gave the Reds a few rounds to keep their heads down. I hauled my two buddies up with me and we pussyfooted over the top, hoping the Commies wouldn't try to shoot up through the roof. It was steel anyway. That helped! We jumped down on the coal tender and the fireman saw us. Boy! Did he yell! He dropped that shovel and dived out the side like a frightened frog. The engineer took to the other door.
"By now the train was out of the grade and in open country, really travelling. I sent Rhee back over the top to warn the others, before the Reds got wise, and when I figured they were set I put on the emergency brake ... it's a good thing I learned about engines on the pineapple plantations back in Hawaii ..." he laughed. "Well, sir, that damned train just about stood on its nose and jack-knifed. I'll bet the gooks really got thrown about. Then I put her in reverse. The wheels were screeching like a drunk wahine at a hula, and slipping and sliding like crazy until they caught a hold. When she stopped and began to back up a lot of the Reds made a break for it. We got a few but most of them got away. When they saw we were going back towards the bridge a gang of those left tried to rush the cab. Tommy was waiting on the coal pile and mowed them down but a wild shot downed him when he tried to get back to me. I wanted to stop the train but he yelled at me to go on. I tied down the whistle as the signal and the other guys jumped. Then I gave her full throttle and I jumped too. Tommy stayed on. I guess he figured he was finished and he might as well take some of the Reds with him. Anyway they never got into the cab to stop the engine. It must have barrelled down that grade at a hundred miles an hour. It smashed those two tank cars to glory and pushed the whole damn lot into the canyon."
"That was the big explosion I heard?"
"That was it," Kim agreed and added, "That broke up the fight. Good boy, that Tommy. He went out the right way for a soldier."
We set out for the rendezvous about midmorning. It would have been safer to wait for night but I was afraid the virus would knock us out and Kim agreed. The scouts reported no signs of life ahead so we marched in our two groups, a prudent interval of twenty-five yards between. The day was warm later on. About sixteen hundred hours I started to sweat a bit and I noticed beads of perspiration on Makstutis' forehead and a large drop forming on the end of his nose. He smiled weakly when he caught my eye.
"Guess I'm starting to get that fever, Doc," he said. "The other two guys have it too. How're you doing?"
I wasn't too bad and said so. The protection Dr. Anders said I'd get from the Songho Fever must be working. We went up on top of a steep ridge and I noticed Hip Sing was unsteady on his feet. I went over to him.
"How are you making out, boy?"
"I ..." he swayed slightly and licked his lips.... "I don't feel so good, sir."
"Sit down, son. Let's have a look at you."
His head was scorching hot and his cheeks flushed like an inebriated Japanese. I felt his pulse. Even after a rest it was over one hundred and forty. At a rough guess he must have been running a fever of one hundred and three degrees. I let him rest for a bit and then, with Makstutis on one side and I on the other, we stumbled on down the trail into the valley. He collapsed a couple of times before we got to the bottom and finally we were dragging him along, his arms over our shoulders, toes catching in the dust. Sergeant Kang followed reeling in semi-delirium but still carrying our weapons. Somehow he reached almost to the bottom of the slope, right behind us, and then pitched forward on his face. The guns clattered and rolled down ahead of him. His arms, outstretched as he fell, caught my legs and tripped me. I went down on one knee, Hip Sing crazily over me, while Makstutis struggled to keep his balance and pull us up again. We got Sing over to the narrow brook that tumbled along the valley floor and there Makstutis' knees buckled under him and he sat down. I was feeling rough myself, but not that rough.
"Get Hip Sing's clothes off him if you can, Mak," I said, and went back for Kang. He was still comatose so I grabbed his arms and jerked him down the slope to level ground. I couldn't drag him any more, I hadn't the strength. I got down on my knees and rolled him over to the water's edge. I stripped him to his undershirt and poured water over him with his helmet. His pulse was almost impossible to count, it was beating so fast, but it was still surprisingly strong. That fever had to be brought down before it fried his brains! No man can live long at a body temperature over 105° and I knew his must be at least that. Even if he recovered his brain could be permanently damaged by the intense heat inside his skull. I got him into the water with his head and shoulders on the bank. It was cold but there was no time for gentler measures. The exertion made the swirling come back in my head and I lay down beside him until the world came to rest again.
About five minutes later I heard gasping sounds and looked up. I had forgotten Makstutis and Hip Sing. The Mak was still fumbling with Sing's clothes but in his delirium he would forget and sit there, muttering to himself, while his fingers fluttered uselessly at the buttons. He was doing that now. The sounds were coming from Hip Sing. As I watched, he started to retch, his face was a sweaty grey-green. A great gush of dark brown blood came up and flowed away from the side of his mouth. He sank back and was still. I crawled over to feel his pulse but he was dead. Makstutis sat there and whispered. Somewhere above I heard a shout. Under the weary haze that covered my mind I knew I had to act but it was so much trouble.
"Doc ... Doc ..." I heard it again and looked up. Kim, watching back on the trail, had seen that we were not following. Now, heedless of the danger, he was coming to help us.
"Don't come any nearer!" I forced the words through the dry lining of my throat. He was perilously close already if this virus was transmissible through the air, as Anders claimed.
"But I can't just leave you there," he pleaded from the other side of the water.
"We'll all die if you catch it too," I croaked, and rallied my wits. "Kim, Anders may be at the farmhouse waiting for us. Get there as fast as you can. Tell him the bleeding death has got us. Maybe he can still help. And don't let anybody touch us, no matter what happens, until he gives the order." I heard no more. Forcing the last bit of strength from my aching muscles I turned back to Makstutis and pulled off his outer clothes. He lay there mumbling and rambling like a Yogi in a trance, the foam drying on his cracked lips. He was too big to roll into the water so I poured it on him from his helmet. The cold seemed to restore his sanity for a moment ... his eyes opened. The whites were gone and, from the center of those bright red bleeding spheres, the blue irises flickered as he tried to focus on me. He smiled.
"Good old Doc," he said feebly.
It was too much. I crouched there and sobbed, the aching tightness blocking my throat as I shakily poured water over him.
The light kept bobbing about in the strangest way. It couldn't be a firefly, too big. It was up high on the slope at first but soon it dropped down, wavering back and forth. I knew then it was a shaded flashlight and I heard the sliding of boots on the rocky path.
"That's close enough." The voice was strange at first and then I remembered that was how Anders sounded.
Until the darkness and rising fever stopped me I had kept pouring the water over Makstutis where he lay, unconscious and unmoving on the ground. Kang floated low and lifeless in the water like a beached log. I checked him once. His pulse was still there but slow and almost imperceptible. As the fearful heat rose within me I lay down in the stream beside him and shivered there as long as I could endure. Then I would get out again and return to my work. Finally, too sick and dizzy to do any more, I crawled to the bank and lay down on my back with my legs in the water to cool off the blood steaming inside me. Then I passed out.
The light flickered closer and waved about over my companions. It came to me and I squinted up feebly, trying to avoid the glare.
"How are they, Dr. Anders?" The voice came from the slope.
"One of them is dead ... a corporal. The Russian and the Sergeant are very bad, unconscious. Dr. Macdonald is awake," Anders said and then, to me, "Do you understand me?"
"Yes, I do," I whispered.
"I am going to inject some serum." He was busy tying a tourniquet of rubber tubing above my elbow to bring out the veins. I felt the needle probing for the collapsed tissues and later the pressure as he pulled it out and stopped the bleeding. He jabbed me again in the biceps.
"You have had your anti-serum and a sedative," he said, leaning close to be sure I heard. "Now you must relax and concentrate on getting well."
With that thought in my mind I went to sleep.
Three days later I was over the worst of it. I had bled again from the kidneys but fortunately the disease had not been severe enough to cause a massive internal hemorrhage that would have choked their filtering mechanism and killed me.
"How do I look?" I said to Anders that morning as he examined me where I lay, in the dappled shade of the clearing.
"Your eyes are very red, of course," he smiled, "and you have purpuric spots ... what your laymen call bruising, isn't it ... in the creases of your elbows and thighs, but I think you have been fortunate."
"I agree with that statement, Doctor," I said as I looked over at his other patients, lying there so quietly beside me. A horse fly lit on Kang's nose. Feebly his face twitched, trying to dislodge it. He lifted his right hand, bending the arm from the elbow. It stayed there, too weak to go farther. Anders shooed the fly. Kang's hand, poised uncertainly for a time, slowly fell back to his side. To all appearances he was lifeless.
"They're in bad shape, aren't they?" I asked.
"Yes, but they should recover. You saved their lives, you know."
"I did? How?"
"By using that cold water. When I checked them, their temperatures were very low, especially Kang. You might say you had put them into artificial hibernation. They were both in shock but, with the low body temperatures reducing their metabolism during the crucial stage, I am sure they have a much better chance of returning to normal. I maintained their low temperatures with one of our new hypothermic drugs for the first two days. Now they have returned to a more normal state except that they are still asleep."
"They look more dead than asleep," I said and raised myself up to sit. Even that was an effort as my swimming head and pounding heart warned me. In a moment or two I felt better. I inched over to a tree and used it as a back rest. Soaking in the friendly warmth of the sun like a cat on a garden wall, I dozed off.
"Take this, Colonel." Anders' face was close to mine as he woke me gently and held out a bowl of warm rice. The sparse light-colored stubble on his unshaven chin stood out like the tattered wheat stalks on a dustbowl farm. Gaunt with fatigue, bleary-eyed and scruffy though he was, his red-rimmed eyes shone with a fierce determination to pull us through and cheat his former masters of at least three victims. I ate and watched as he gently spooned a thin paste of rice into the cracked and crusted mouths of his patients. As it touched their tongues, they swallowed automatically like patients under anaesthesia, which, in a way, I suppose they were.
"Have you had any sleep at all?" I said, watching him.
"Not much. An hour here and there. I was afraid to sleep."
"Then why don't you sleep now while I watch. I can wake you easily if you lie down here."
"Thank you. I will do that. I am very tired."
I let him sleep six hours. The sun was low over the ridges and Kim and his men were preparing the evening meal when he awoke. Renewed vigor showed in all his actions as he moved about lighting a fire and preparing our rice gruel. This time I crawled over to help him with the patients. As we dripped the thick rice soup into those impassive faces and later washed the dry drum-tight skin stretched over bare bones, I asked about our plans.
"Yesterday," he said, "Lieutenant Pak On took a small party down to the coast, to Wongpo. They are to find Lee Sung and tell him that there will be a delay until you are well enough to travel. They also must try to get more food. It will be at least three days before they are back. I have vaccinated all your men against the bleeding death and we must wait until you are no longer infectious and I am sure they are immune before we escape. We cannot risk spreading the disease in the western democracies."
"Do you think it got spread when the tank cars were blown up?" I asked.
"It is quite possible. The concentration of virus in that river must have been very high. Unfortunately there are still villages down its course and along the Imjin where people live, and they may get it. For that reason we must move as soon as it is safe. If disease breaks out near the coast we will never be able to get a boat to take us off."
The thought worried me. Suppose Lee Sung died? Only he could make the contacts to get us away, I supposed, by small fishing boat out to sea where a submarine, or perhaps a destroyer, could pick us up outside the territorial limits. We had to avoid the coastal patrols too and only Sung could help us there.
By the end of that week, May was two thirds gone and we were all recovering slowly. Pak came back and the news was bad. Lee Sung and Blackie had come with him. I met them as I strolled along the trail and went back with them to our camp for a conference. Before it began, Anders got out his syringe and inoculated Lee Sung.
"We can't afford to lose our only contact with freedom," he said.
"I appreciate your kindness, even if it is somewhat self-centered," Lee replied, with a disarming smile.
"Let's have it," I said to Pak when all the officers were gathered in the glade. Makstutis, too weak as yet to participate actively, was lying quietly taking in all that was said.
"We got into Wongpo without too much trouble," he began. "We kept away from any signs of people on the way. It wasn't too hard to locate Lee Sung either when I walked into the little town; several people knew him and I pretended the North Korean Army had business with him. I found him down at the wharf where his boat is moored and he took me aboard. I was alone of course," he said, as an afterthought. "The men stayed back in the hills."
"Is that the boat you mentioned when we first met?" I interrupted to ask Lee.
"Yes. Actually it belongs to the United States," Lee Sung said. "It is fitted as a deep sea fishing or trading junk. It has souped up engines that look ordinary and a false bottom where I hide guns or radio or anything we need to smuggle into or out of North Korea. The boat is registered in my name of course. I'm supposed to be a part-time fisherman and local cargo carrier, as well as a merchant. I have a small store in Wongpo. The Reds used to wink their eyes at my activities because I smuggled things they wanted from Hong Kong or South Korea."
"Sorry to interrupt," I said to Pak. "I wanted to get the background straight."
"That's all right, sir," he replied. "Now, where was I?"
"You'd got to Lee's boat," I said.
"Oh yes. We had to get some food so that's the first thing we talked about. Lee had bags of rice in his store so we went there and loaded up a mule cart he borrowed. We were going to drive it as far as we could to where our men could get the rice and pack the sacks on A-frames back over the trail to the farmhouse. We thought it would be less noticeable if we did it that night. In the meantime Lee went out to get some vegetables and see if he could scrounge any meat. That's when the trouble started." He turned to Lee Sung. "Maybe you'd better tell the rest of it."
"I went to the house of a farmer, an old friend of mine, who lives on the edge of the village, to bargain for some vegetables and perhaps a pig," Lee said. "I was still there, drinking tea to conclude the transaction, as is our custom, when a detachment of about fifty North Korean soldiers in three trucks rolled along the coast road into the village. I finished my business as rapidly as possible, and, with the help of the farmers' sons, brought the food down to my store. Then I walked out around the village seeking information. Lieutenant Pak stayed with the supplies. I was afraid someone would have told the detachment commander of the presence of another North Korean officer but fortunately he was so busy and the people so frightened that no one remembered Lieutenant Pak."
"That evening the commander called an open meeting in the village and announced there was to be curfew for everyone beginning that night. Anyone who disobeyed would be shot. He also announced that nobody could enter or leave the village by land or sea and he has seized the fishing vessels, including mine."
"Oh, my God!" I said. "Why did he do that?"
"Apparently a new epidemic of some sort has broken out at several villages along the Imjin River."
I looked across at Anders and shook my head. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug of resignation.
Lee Sung continued. "There is a great search being made for American bandits of oriental descent masquerading as soldiers of the Peoples Army who attacked the virus factory. You will be interested to know that it was a large and heavily armed force of capitalist reactionaries which was driven off with very heavy losses."
"Losses to whom?" Blackie asked with a grin.
"To the Americans of course. The virus factory was not damaged."
"At least that's the truth; we got the powerhouse," Pak laughed.
"The moment he made the announcement about American soldiers I left the meeting quietly and went back to my store. Somebody was going to wake up, perhaps soon. I told Pak and we decided to risk it as the soldiers were still moving into the police barracks and getting set up. We drove the mule cart quickly out the back end of the village and got away without being challenged. In fact we didn't see anyone at all until we met our own people."
"It looks like we've stirred up the whole country," I said. "They certainly seem frightened."
"I'm not surprised," Anders broke in. "When I left the factory, besides the virus cultures, my rucksack was full of bottles of vaccine against the bleeding death and as much of the anti-serum as I could carry. I expected we might need it. I destroyed all I could of what I had to leave behind and the papers too. The Communists have very little left."
"A fine piece of work, Doctor," I said. "You saved our lives and deprived the Reds of their protection, all at the same time." I turned back to Lee Sung. "I wonder how they figured we were Americans. All our papers were in order. There wasn't a thing to show we weren't native guerrillas, admittedly in the service of an unfriendly power. Why not think we were from South Korea?"
"Possibly some of the men we left in the factory lived long enough to talk," Blackie said, "put I doubt it very much. Of course seeing the white officers would give them grounds for suspicion."
"Suspicion, yes, but not fact," I said.
"The radio has been talking mysterious explosions and guerrilla warfare in Siberia and parts of China recently," Lee Sung reported.
"That's it, by Golly!" Blackie burst out. "The raids on the nerve gas centers must have started. It could be somebody has been captured and brainwashed."
"Could be," I said, "and if so, we'd better get home. If the Reds can suppress news of how successful the raids are, they may still bluff the democracies, with threats of nerve gas and CBR warfare, into giving them more food and a good settlement of the war, but if we get home with our story then they'll realize they are licked and maybe quit."
The following day we set out to do the last few miles to the farmhouse. The Reds didn't have enough men to search the hills and the wilder the area the safer we'd be. Our trouble would be to break through the barrier at the coast. With one wounded man and two sick ones on litters we were heavily loaded and could make only slow time. I had all I could do to carry my own weight and when we got to the house late that night I collapsed on a pile of straw and stayed there for the whole of the next day.
CHAPTER 16
We stayed in the village for three weeks. Each day Makstutis and Kang were a little better.
"We have to get out of here," I said to Anders one day in the last week, after we had examined our patients. "The A-bomb carrier is probably on its way right now."
"They can't march all the way to the coast," Anders said dubiously. "If we must go, we shall have to carry them."
Blackie and Kim had been watching us with interest. Now Kim spoke up.
"We've got some real husky boys in the unit, Doc. How about fixing up seats on a couple of A-frames. Then we couldchogithem up the hills and they could maybe make it down the other side."
"It's a good idea, sir," Blackie agreed. "Those back trails are too narrow for litters. We can changechogibearers frequently."
"What about Yip Kee?" Kim said. "Can he travel the same way?"
I looked at Anders. "What do you say, Doctor? It's a month since his leg was fractured. I think we could take a chance on it provided he is carried all the way."
"I see no alternative," Anders agreed.
We borrowed the A-frames from the farmhouse and Pak wove basket seats across the carrying prongs. With wider shoulder straps and some padding our men could carry the patients quite well, changing frequently. We assigned two bearers to each A-frame; it was all we could spare. The first time we tried it, Makstutis, irrepressible as ever, cracked, "This'll be the first time I ever went into action sitting on my ass. I feel like a damn tanker." The name stuck; from then on they were called the tank section.
In the first part of June, Lieutenant Pak and Lee Sung made a reconnaissance and came back with an encouraging report. The furor over the raid on the virus factory had died down. Work on the power house had started but in a half-hearted fashion, either from a sense of defeat or perhaps a shortage of supplies and workmen. The bleeding death had hit hard along the Imjin and spread over the watershed to the coastal villages. It continued to spread as the panic-stricken natives, completely out of control after two terrible epidemics, fled from the disease and disseminated it wherever they went. Most of the enemy troops were being used to try to halt the crazy rush away from the death zone but some of them had also become infected, either by contact with refugees or perhaps in the age-old fashion by consorting with prostitutes in the towns. The result was disorganization and a very low morale.
The garrison at Wongpo, still kept at fifty men, was in good health as they had commandeered plentiful food supplies and driven out or killed most of the villagers who had not already died. They held the harbor and the three boats tied up there. One was Lee Sung's, the other two were much smaller fishing boats.
Counting Anders and the three convalescents, we were down to a total strength of twenty-three. It would not be easy to capture the boat unless we could catch the North Koreans by surprise, but we had to try it. We set off over the wildest part of the country, avoiding all villages or farmland that might still be inhabited. By the evening of the third day we lay on a ridge overlooking Wongpo. Shortly after dark, Lee Sung and Pak went down to see what the situation was. The day had been warm but a cool breeze began blowing towards the sea as the land cooled off. I fell asleep, lulled by the quiet murmur of the distant breakers and the rustle of leaves in the steady wind.
"Doc, Doc, wake up! Wake up, Doc," the insistent whisperer was Kim.
"Yeah, what, what's that?" I struggled confusedly back to consciousness. Obviously something was wrong the way Kim was still shaking me. "OK Kim ... lay off ... I'm awake," I said crossly. I was still fagged out and hated to come back to reality.
"Sorry sir, there's trouble. Lee Sung has been captured."
"Captured!" I echoed. "How do you know?"
"Pak just came back. He says Lee Sung left him hidden near his store while he tried to sneak back on board the junk. He could see Lee go aboard but he never came on deck again. A few minutes later a North Korean soldier came off the boat and went to the police barracks. Two officers came back with him and went aboard. Then Pak figured he'd need help and high-tailed it up here."
"OK, get everybody up. We move out right now," I growled and started to put my equipment on. "Where's Blackie?"
"Talking to Pak, Colonel," he said as he moved away.
While the men got ready, the officers gathered around me.
"What's the plan, sir?" Blackie said.
"I'm not absolutely sure," I said, "but I do know this, if we don't rescue Lee Sung and his junk you might as well figure on walking back to the States via Siberia." I thought over the plan of the village for a moment. "The boat is lying alongside the jetty about five hundred yards north of the police barracks. The houses there thin out along the coast road. You, Blackie, take four men. Swing north from here and come in at the jetty as quietly as you can. If it isn't well guarded maybe you can get aboard before they suspect. Then wait for us. Better take Pak with you ... he knows exactly where the boat is in this darkness. Kim, you take five men and surround the police barracks as well as you can. At least try to cover the way north to the boat. Don't do a thing unless you hit trouble or Blackie gets into a fight." I paused, there was some detail I wanted to be sure of. "Oh yes, locate all power and telephone lines you can and cut them the moment shooting starts. Then hold off the Commies as long as possible and withdraw towards the junk. I'll take the tank section and Dr. Anders. We'll go along with Kim as far as seems safe and then make for the boat by way of the beach while he tackles the barracks. The challenge is Pusan ... the answer, Tokyo. One thing more. I don't want to leave without Lee Sung for two reasons. One, we owe our lives to him, and two, without him we'll have one hell of a time running that boat and contacting help. I'm betting he is still held on the junk but there's no guarantee of that. I wouldn't be a damn bit surprised if the Reds were holding him for bait to catch us, so watch yourselves every minute. Is that clear?"
It was. Blackie and his boys moved off first, going north over a trail that would gradually lead them down the slope and north of the village. A few minutes later we followed. Makstutis and Kang were to walk downhill although they were exhausted from the day's march, but Yip Kee had to ride. There was not quite a half moon, enough to see the trail but not enough to make us conspicuous. I looked down to the village. There were no lights. Even in the police barracks there was blackout, either in fear of guerrilla sniping or perhaps waiting for us. In thirty minutes we were on level ground with the beach a quarter of a mile away. There was little wind now and the waves must have been small. I couldn't hear anything but my own breathing and the scuffing of our feet. There were no dogs and I wondered if there ever had been; dog is a tasty meal to some of these people. Tonight certainly it was a blessing.
Kim came back to me quietly, a short strong silhouette against the low moon, and stuck his mouth up close to my ear.
"We go straight from here, Doc. The Police barracks is on the coast road dead ahead. You'd better cut north a bit before you get on the beach. Watch it crossing that road. In this light you'll stand out like a neon sign."
I nodded to him. He and his men moved away, shadows that merely faded until I was not sure they were there at all. I waited a little longer, then I took the lead with Anders next, followed by the three tanks, all the patients now riding, and the three spare men acting as a bodyguard. We walked in a wide arc, going north and finally swinging down a narrow mud lane between thatched houses to come to the coast road. In the moonlight I could see no sign of life, so, one at a time, we skimmed across it as quietly as we could, dodged the fishing net racks that cluttered the soft sand and got out on the tidal area of the beach. I saw at once that I had made a mistake. Kim was right. We were far too conspicuous out there on the hard sand. I led them back close to the nets and we stumbled on, tripping over the rocks and loose stones that thrust up through the sandy patches, tiring ourselves out in that loose shifting footing.
I stopped, trying to breathe silently. Faintly ahead I saw the outlines of the jetty, the masts of the three boats silhouetted above it.
"Let's get back beside the road," I whispered to Anders. "We have to get on it soon anyway, to approach that pier where the boats are. Thechogibearers are about all in, trying to carry the patients in this soft sand."
We had just stumbled and crawled back over the rocks and debris to the side of the road when a light machine gun chittered angrily to the south. I heard the yelling of commands cut short by the quick blasting crack of a hand grenade. For a moment the flame burned a pattern on my retina so I couldn't see clearly. I thought there were figures moving down that way but I wasn't sure. Ahead, where the masts of the junks jousted at the stars, there was a flash of light as a door opened. A man's harsh scream followed it as thunder follows lightning and then there was a splash, shouts, and running feet on the planks of the wharf. The firing at the police barracks was heavier now and I could see rifle flashes that appeared to come from a second floor window. One of our boys must have marked it down too. The rifle cracked once more, followed instantly by a grenade explosion inside the room. It lit up the outline of the window like a furnace door opened in a dark cellar. Something fell out. After that there was a lull behind us. Ahead, sporadic shooting rattled back and forth from boat to jetty to shore, the flashes jerking about like fireflies playing tag.
I could make no sense out of that battle so I gave orders in a low voice.
"Let's stay here right now. Tanks, dismount and cover the rear. Anders, you and the three guards move north twenty-five yards and cover both sides of the road. Stay hidden, halt everybody, and don't forget to give the challenge before you shoot." I returned to Makstutis. "I'll drop back south a bit," I said, "and outflank anybody you stop."
I walked away and hid behind poles supporting one end of a large fishing net that was hung on the long racks to dry. The shadows broke my silhouette but I could see well through the net.
Across the road the low thatched roofs of the houses formed an almost unbroken bar of shadow against the faint light of the moon. I had been looking at it for a long time. I stared at it once more and thought I saw slight movements in the blackness. I looked away and tried the old trick of not staring straight at where I wanted to see, to give my night vision a better chance. There it was again!
"Halt!" Makstutis gave the order in Korean. There was neither movement nor sound now.
"Pusan!" He hissed the word explosively. Still no answer!
The light from his grenade was an instant before the roar. Crouched along the walls of the houses across from me was a group of men, more than five, maybe ten, spread apart for safety. He had caught the first two with the explosion, the grenade right between them. The others opened up, firing generally north and across the road, hoping to catch their assailant.
"Makstutis is smart," I was thinking. "I'd probably have used my gun and given my position away first thing." I marked the approximate area of the flashes and, from my knees, covered it with one swinging burst and then dropped behind the poles. The answering fire went over my head and now our tanks really let go, all six of the men blasting at the black shadow. It was enough. There was no answer. Except for an occasional moan and some dragging and scrabbling in the dirt, I heard only the ringing in my ears. Five minutes later I decided it was safe to go back to my men.
The battle south of us stuttered and chattered as the burp guns spat at each other. Northward it was quiet, too much so. An hour went by. Then I heard the challenge again.
"Halt! Pusan!"... "Tokyo!" came the answer. It was Kim.
"What the Hell's going on?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I think Blackie has the bear by the tail and can't let go. There hasn't been a sound for a long time."
"We've got the Reds bottled up in the barracks," Kim said cheerfully. "All except a patrol of ten that got out and went north. I figured you could hold them while we took care of the rest."
"We cleaned them up. They're lying over there across the road."
"That's real neat work, Doc." I imagined him smiling in the dim light. "Now what do we do?"
"Damned if I know," I admitted. "We'd better try to find Blackie, I guess."
We found him lying behind the heavy timbers of the jetty where it joined the road. He was boiling over with anger and frustration.
"The so-and-so's went back down inside the boat when the fighting started and I don't dare go after them. They've still got Lee Sung there and threaten to kill him if we attack. I told them we'd show them real torture if they hurt him and promised to let them go free if they surrendered but I guess they're counting on being rescued."
"Any of your men ever do any sailing?" I asked.
"I have a couple who know how," said Kim. "What's in your mind?"
"We can't get to the engines of the junk and I'm afraid to stay here." I turned to Kim. "Did you ever get those power and phone lines, by the way?"
"Yeah, I got them; but they could call for help if they have a battery-powered transmitter."
"That's what's worrying me," I said. "The only alternative I can think of is to get on that junk and try to sail the damn thing away. Maybe, when they find out they are at sea, the gooks will surrender. Kim, you go back and hold the fort while we try to get on the boat."
"But sir," Blackie spoke up, "when we go we'll have to take all three boats or the garrison might take after us."
"I forgot about that, Blackie," I said ruefully, and then, as the thought struck me, "Say, maybe one of them has an auxiliary motor and we could tow the whole lot out to sea. Is there anyone on the little boats?"
"I don't think so. I watched for a while when the fight started and didn't see anybody. But they're small," he concluded doubtfully. "I wouldn't bet on any engines."
"Engines or no engines," I decided, "we take all three boats. Can you get aboard them safely?"
"We'll have to rush the big one," Blackie replied. "There's a couple of ports they can fire through that cover most of the wharf except out towards the bow."
"Let's see if we can find a rowboat first, or make a raft from those fish racks," I said. "Then you can row out to the end of the wharf with three or four men and approach the junk head on. While you're about it, check the fishing boats for engines but don't start them up if they have any. Tie all three boats together and find something we can use for paddles or oars too. We'll try to float away with the tide. It seems to be going out now."
Down by the nets we found a long flat-bottomed rowboat that seemed serviceable. It was a struggle to get it to the water but we managed with the help of some choice swearing and rude remarks about Korean fishermen and Marine operations in general. The long sweep oars were stacked by the nets and, in a short time, Blackie and his amateur crew splashed out into the darkness. Some time later he was back with one man.
"We got aboard," he related proudly, "and found the two fishing boats have small motors that might be enough to pull the big junk along for a while. We've got them all tied together and I left three men on the deck of Lee Sung's boat. They can make sure the gooks keep their heads inside but we'll have to ferry everybody out to the small boats first. We still can't risk crossing that wharf."
"OK," I agreed. "Start ferrying the tanks. I'll go and get Kim and his gang."
There was no more firing around the barracks. Either the Reds were waiting for daylight or perhaps for help. The moon had set and in the blackness finally I found Kim and explained the situation. We sent off all the men and together we sat and watched for a surprise sortie from the building. It must have been about two in the morning when Blackie sent back for us. We were the last to leave and, as I passed the racks, I pulled off a fishing net.
"Give me a hand with this, Blackie, I want to take it along with me."
"What on earth for, Colonel?"
"We can't get below decks on the junk. Our food is low. We can try for fish with this. What about water?"
"Everybody filled their canteens with water before starting.
"It's not enough," I complained, "but we can't wait now."
By this time half our men were on the deck of the junk. The sick men stayed in the smaller craft in case of trouble. We filled the rowboat with six of the strongest men and cut loose from shore. With the ebbing tide to help, the rowboat crew pulled slowly away from the wharf, aided by others paddling in the fishing craft. Our prisoners made no noise and we could hear no sounds of pursuit. An hour later we started the small boats' motors.
My first impulse had been to run for the open sea, beyond the territorial limits of North Korea but I reconsidered. The Soviets, if they were looking for us, wouldn't bother about the niceties of international law. We were fair game until picked up. So we putted along the coast, running towards the thirty-eighth parallel. Shortly before dawn we sailed close in to the rugged shoreline and anchored. We loosed the small boats and ran them in to shore behind a rocky headland. Perhaps a reconnaissance plane would miss us in the shelter of the cliffs. We would have to chance the wind and weather in our rather insecure hideout.
Sitting on the pebbly beach beside Anders, I was wondering what to do next when he broke the silence.
"I believe I have a solution, Doctor," he said in his precise manner, "if you will give me permission to try."
"What can we lose?" I said.
Approaching Lee Sung's vessel from dead ahead, we climbed over the bow. Anders leaned over the side and yelled in fluent Korean for the senior officer of the Communist soldiers. After a short silence there was a rough shout from the forward port.
"What do you want with me?"
Anders talked slowly and clearly. "I am Dr. Anders from the virus factory. You know I escaped and that I cannot go back if I want to live. Therefore, if this boat is found by your comrades I will kill you before I die myself."
"You cannot touch us and you cannot sink the boat. Your threat does not scare me." The Red officer did not attempt to conceal his scorn.
"I promise you that if you free Lee Sung we will set you ashore and let you go unharmed."
"I do not trust traitors," yelled the Korean. "We will not surrender. You will be caught soon by our patrols."
"That will do you no good," countered Anders. "Listen to me! I have vials of the bleeding death with me. All of us, including your prisoner, are protected against it. If you do not surrender now I will break the vials and spread the disease through the ship. Even if you are rescued you will still die."
We could hear the angry arguments below deck. All of them had seen death from hemorrhagic disease in its new virulent form. It was a horrible sight even to a physician, and, to the uneducated soldiers, the thought of those purple mottled bodies with blood red eyes, retching and vomiting their lives away, must have been terrifying. The wrangling stopped and the senior officer called out.
"How do you plan to do this if we consent?"
"How many men have you?" Anders asked.
"We are twelve altogether."
"Then send up four men, including the other officer, unarmed. We will put them ashore where you can see them. The second time four more will go. The last time, you will come up and bring Lee Sung. If he is in reasonable condition you too will go. Otherwise you die."
"It is agreed. We come now."
There was no further trouble. Lee Sung had been beaten in the usual Korean fashion but he was so glad to be free he claimed he felt fine. The North Koreans disappeared quickly along the beach as if afraid we might shoot.
"We'd better get out of here right now," said Lee Sung. "They can reach a good sized village north of here in an hour and give the alarm."
"All right," I agreed. "You take over."
He led us below and, after shifting some cargo, opened up a small space under the false deck, forward of the engine room. In it he had a powerful radio transmitter, a case containing two heavy machine guns with ammunition, and a few boxes of burp guns and grenades.
"I used to run guns to the guerrillas," he explained. "These may be very useful."
We set up the machine guns on deck and I felt better. By now we were running south at the full speed of the powerful engines, the two small junks towing behind, still manned and helping with their own engines. Sung had said we might need them when I suggested sinking them before we hauled up our anchor. I steered the course while he worked his radio, trying to raise his contacts and get help to us. It took some time but finally he came on deck smiling.
"I got them," he said. "We rendezvous with a destroyer off the coast tonight. It will escort us to Japan."
"What do we do in the meantime?"
"There is danger that the Communists picked up my signals and got a bearing. If the coast patrol or the jets don't see us we will be OK."
"What about our own jets? Can't we get fighter cover?"
"Only as a last resort ... and it would probably be too late. The Air Force has been warned to avoid all incidents and they do not wish to fly close to the coast."
The sun was almost gone behind the hills of the steep Korean coast when the Red jets found us. They came out of the sun, as experienced fighters do, and the high whistle was already over us before we saw them.
"Migs!" I yelled and ran to the stern. "Cut loose! Spread out and head in to shore."
The little boats swung to starboard almost at once and wavered off like water beetles trying to dodge a dragon fly. Lee Sung was at the wheel again. He spun it sharply and the bow swung towards the shore. There was shelter in a narrow cleft between a rocky pinnacle and the cliffs of the mainland if we could reach it. We would have to chance the depth of the water. By now the jets were around again and peeling off for the attack. They were coming in low from the northwest this time as we were getting some protection from the shoreline. I watched them come, feeling helpless without a weapon, ready to drop behind the mainmast when I saw the angle of flight. At the stern, Makstutis was lying flat, his helmet back on his head and his teeth bared as he squinted over the barrel of the heavy machine gun into the bright light. Beside him Kang was feeding the belts. Propped up against the side, Yip Kee braced his automatic rifle on the wooden rail and waited calmly. I swivelled around. Blackie and two others had the forward gun aimed and waiting. In the little junks, dropping rapidly astern, I saw that Kim and his men were already fighting. Their puny burp guns popped bravely at the two jets which, ignoring them as too small, were concentrating all their attention on us.
The leading jet grew larger, filling the sky with its round open face and stubby wings. The tracers from Makstutis' gun floated lazily upwards and then seemed to snap past, below the airplane, and wink out. Too low, I thought, and dropped flat as the Mig hit out at us. The ship heeled over, sliding like a runner for base as Sung clawed at the wheel. The screaming roar of the jet and the impact of cannon shells and bullets on wood went by me once, and then again as the second Mig swept overhead. I looked back. Makstutis was unhurt but Kang was rolling around clutching at his legs. I got up and ran to him. That last minute swerve and the sight of the tracers coming up had been enough to divert the pilot's aim. Perhaps the bumpy air currents of the cliffs helped. I thanked God as I ran that there were none of the new guided missile planes around. The shells had ploughed through the stern rail and ripped up the port side of the deck, missing the machine gun but catching Kang's legs.
I was down on my knees beside him for ten seconds. Probably fractures of both tibiae I estimated. No time for splints! I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him, moaning with pain, into the companionway where Anders had stuck up his head.
"Compound fractures, both legs," I screamed hoarsely. "Get him below and fix him up. They're coming back."
He scrambled up to the deck, picked up Kang with the broken legs dangling and staggered down the steps. I turned to go out but the roaring chattering horror was back. I dropped and slid down the stairs, careless of the bruises, the violent swerving of the boat throwing me off the companionway to the deck below.
I got back on deck. Makstutis was still at his gun with Yip Kee feeding the belts to him. The forward crew had been hit. Two lay quietly, limbs sprawled out in a grotesque swastika. The third man, dripping blood from one arm, was trying desperately to lift the overturned gun. In the wheelhouse the windows had been shot out but, as I ran forward, I could see Lee Sung, his face bloodied by flying splinters, hunched gamely as he spun the wheel and sideslipped and twisted desperately for shelter. I reached the fallen machine gun and propped it up, the muzzle pointing high. The wounded man was Don Lim, younger brother of the man who had died in the gorge. My throat filled up tight. Blackie was dead!
"Can you feed the belts Don?" I gasped. He nodded and his bloody hands groped painfully for them, laying them flat. There was still a little time. I dragged the bodies of the dead men in front of the gun and piled the heavy fishing net I'd brought on top of them. Blackie wouldn't have minded, I thought ... and it might help some. I dropped down beside him.
We were close in to shore now and the Migs had to come in straight over us from the north. They were very low, trying to get a longer time on the target. I pointed the barrel of the gun straight back towards them and canted it up as high as it would go. There was little hope of aiming at that speed. I ducked low behind the barrier. The roar of the first Mig deafened me as I held the bucking gun, my head almost flat on the deck. Something hit my helmet hard, the jerk knocking it back off my forehead and wrenching my neck. Vaguely I felt a ripping at my left heel and a burning of the flesh. The first roar was gone and then the second. I rolled over. There, shrinking to a toy behind us, the leading Mig was climbing steeply, smoke pouring from it as it tried to gain height. It slowed, stalled, and began to nose over. I saw the pilot bail out, the ejection seat shooting him away from the plane. He dropped and the parachute opened as the Mig, twisting and gliding out of control, smashed into the hillside.
I started to get up, howling with excitement, until I saw Lim slowly fall over beside me on to the smoking fish net. He had fainted from loss of blood, his arm almost amputated by that first wound. Only as I dragged him away from the net did I realize that it had stopped an incendiary shell and saved us both. I took off his belt and tightened it around the arm as a tourniquet. Before I left him I checked, but aside from wood splinters off the deck he seemed to have no other injuries. Back at the stern I could see Anders working over Makstutis. He had fragments through his right arm but was still ready to fight. Yip Kee was exhausted and lame from his efforts but unhurt. I stood up to look for the other Mig. We were very close to shore now. Suddenly the junk lurched, scraped forward and stopped, throwing me against the rail. I pulled myself up again and looked around. We were grounded solidly between the rocky spur and the cliff. At least the Mig couldn't get at us now.
It didn't try. We heard it circle over the fallen parachute and then fly north. Lee Sung came back from the wheelhouse.
"We'll have to get out of here before a patrol boat finds us," he said. "It will be dark in half an hour. We can go in the small boats to find the destroyer."
The light was dim as we lowered the last wounded man into the small junks. We had smashed the radio after sending a final signal and then Lee Sung, his face impassive in the torchlight, placed a demolition charge on the engines and several more along the hull. I took a last look at Blackie and his buddy where we had laid them below decks. We pulled away, the engines chugging steadily. I looked at Makstutis and his face was wet. I was having a hard time myself.
In the afterglow the junk faded into the background as we drove straight away from the coast into a choppy sea, raised by the freshening wind. A momentary flash and a series of dull heavy thuds marked her end. I bent over Makstutis to adjust the bandage on his arm. He peered up at me.
"Doc, you've got holes in the head," he said and grinned.
I pulled off my helmet and looked at the neat bullet marks through the top. "Didn't let any sense in." I rubbed my sore scalp. It was only then I remembered my torn heel. I pulled off my boot and looked at it. It was only a small flesh wound.
"You and Achilles," Anders said and smiled.
"Yes, but he lost the fight. We've won."
CHAPTER 17
"Fasten your seat belts." The light flashed on in the passenger cabin of the Canadian Pacific Airlines jet. We were going down through the overcast. Vancouver was ten minutes away.
"Did you enjoy your flight, Colonel?" the stewardess asked me as she came by for a last minute check.
I smiled up at her. "The best part comes in ten minutes," I said, "but it certainly has been fast."
Ten days previously we had been lifted out of the fishing boats by the crew of a U.S. Navy destroyer and taken to Okinawa. The casualties were admitted to the Army hospital for treatment and the rest of us, also at the hospital for observation, were given baths, clean uniforms and a meal. Everywhere we went we were kept under isolation precautions and we were guarded as carefully as a basket of over-ripe eggs that might break momentarily.
A week in isolation convinced the officials that we were free of the bleeding death. By that time too, we had been drained of our information.
"When can I go home?" I asked, the day we were informed of our release. "I've got a wife due to have a baby anytime. I'd like some emergency leave."
That night they put me on a Military Air Transportation Service flight out of Kadena Air Force Base to Japan where I picked up a seat on the CPA flight recently resumed for military purposes only.
As usual in Vancouver, it was dull, cool and sprinkling light rain, but I didn't care. I was home. I stepped down the ramp, limping slightly, and pushed through the barrier. It didn't take long for Customs to release me and then I was out in the waiting room, looking around for my wife. There was the Chief, coming for me with a big smile. I grabbed his hand, glad to see him.
"Where's Pat?"
"In the hospital, having that baby of yours." He laughed at my startled expression. "There's nothing to worry about."
"Nothing to worry about! My God! Let's get going!"
In the car we didn't talk much. At last he pulled into his own parking space at the Lab and turned to me.
"Get on over to the Labor Room and see Pat. I'll meet you up in my office later."
I almost ran to the big Maternity Building, close by, and stepped into the elevator. At the desk of Delivery, the nurse stood up in protest.
"I'm sorry. You can't come in here."
I explained hurriedly who I was.
"Why of course, Doctor," she said. "Here's a gown and mask ... but hurry ... she's well into the second stage now."
I pushed open the door of Delivery Room number three. The doctor looked around and his eyes widened in surprise above the mask as he recognized me. It was Ray Thorne.
"Pat, look who's here!" he said.
Her hair was wet and her upper lip moist from the strain and the warmth of the room. I bent over her and her eyes were big as she recognized me.
"Darling, you got here! You got here just in time!"
In that highly emotional moment she was not her usual stoical self. She began to cry. I dropped my mask. The hell with so-called sterile technique! These bugs were all in the family. I kissed her. She smiled even though a hard pain was beginning.
"Now it will be all right," she whispered.
I hung on to her hand and looked up at the mirror that pictured the other end of the delivery table.
"Push hard now," Ray said, as the baby's head came down. She strained and gasped, her face reddened with effort.
"OK, I've got it ... easy now ... easy now," Ray was saying.
Her mouth opened as if to scream but no sound came.
"Gently does it. Don't push any more."
She squeezed down on my hand and the nails bit into me. I stroked her head. Her body tensed with one last spasm and then I heard the suction going as the baby gasped. She loosened her grip and went limp.
"It's a boy ... a boy!" Ray shouted, his eyes twinkling with pleasure over the mask as he held the child up by the feet. The sharp wail of my first-born son was loud in the room. I put my face down to Pat as she cried for joy.
Back in the Laboratory I passed by the offices until I came to the electron microscope room. Polly was busy setting up for a picture but turned at the noise.
"John, darling! Oh, I'm so happy to see you." She came over to me, put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me.
"Have you seen Pat yet? But of course you have. How is she? Has she had that baby yet?"
"Yes I have. She's doing fine. It's a boy."
"Wonderful!" she exclaimed, and kissed me again. "That's for good luck," she explained. "You three will make such a nice family." Her smile faded as the sun goes behind a cloud and for an instant her eyes, though still on my face, seemed to look far away beyond me into infinity.
"And what about you Polly?" I said quietly.
"Harry's dead!" she said abruptly, her mouth held firm to still the trembling of her chin.
"God! No!" I reached out and took her hands. "Polly!" I shook my head. I couldn't think of a thing to say. She took a deep breath and tried to relax, to shake off whatever terrible picture she had imagined of his ending.
"Pat tells me she wrote to you about Harry getting to the Chinese mainland," she said at last.
"Yes, I knew he was there but the last word I had before we dropped into Korea was that they were making good progress in their research."
"They were for a while," she said sadly, "but one day the Communists found out about it and threw a surprise attack at them. They were driven back to the beach and Harry was hit in the head with a piece of shrapnel. The Nationalists managed to get them away to Taiwan and they turned him over to the Americans. He died in Taipei."