The Faithful, North African and Middle Eastern Islamic nations, are plotting to seize the oil resources of the Middle East. By controlling the earth's oil and its major trade routes, they plan to bring the world to its knees. Then, when the entire world is kneeling, the Faithful of Allah will read to them from the Koran, preaching the message of Islam, the True Faith. The Faithful will stop at nothing to achieve their goal. But how far will they go? And how many lives will it cost?

10 Finale

10.11 Hospital Hospitality

10.11.1 Revolting Hospital

Of all of them, Murphy was the least injured, yet the back of his neck, his ears and arms were an oozing mass of blisters, which itched like fury. In addition, he had a huge goose-egg on his forehead where a spent bullet had pierced his Kevlar helmet, but not his hard head.

Lieutenant Mohammed, in the bed next to him, was in bad shape. Somehow, he had taken a more severe dose of the gas and much of his body was in the same awful condition as Murphy's neck.

All the rest of the American men from his outfit were with Murphy in this large, well lit and spacious room, but Murphy had heard nothing about either Captain Austen or Rachel. He had questioned the doctor several times, receiving only those condescending doctor talks about getting back into bed and getting better. He and LT had talked about it, and both of them were getting concerned. It would be very unlike the Captain not to look in on them, and Murphy was very concerned about Rachel. He was determined to find both his partner and his CO.

As regular as clockwork, the Saudi doctor strolled through the double doors with a stack of clipboards on his arm. Murphy confronted him, blocking his way. "Doc, where's Captain Austen?"

"Ah, Sergeant Murg-free. You are feeling better, I see. Come let me attend to your dressings."

"Doc, where's the Captain?"

"I know of no captain. Now come, I must look at your dressing and those of the others here. You may be feeling better, but they are not, so if you will excuse me, I have patients to attend to," he said, as he tried to side-step the sergeant.

Murphy grabbed the doctor by his arm. The doctor writhed in pain, "Leave me alone, you American heathen. I attend to you, but you will not place your hands upon my person. I shall call the attendants, and they shall deal with you!"

Murphy realized he was dealing with a real asshole. This type was capable of anything and had to be taught a lesson. Murphy seized the doctor by the mouth, inserting his hand within it and grabbing the doctor's jaw firmly. He wriggled the doctor by his jaw like a fisherman wiggling a freshly caught trout.

"Doc, you got one way to keep that filthy mouth of yours attached to your head. We're going to find Captain Austen and Rachel. We're going to bring them back here to visit with the rest of us. Come on, Doc!" Murphy started walking, dragging the doctor by his jaw, while yelling, "Austen! Captain Austen! Rachel!"

They left the beautiful and comfortable fifth floor and went down to the fourth. The moment they exited the elevator, Murphy could see that he had been in the poshest and most expensive portion of the hospital. The rooms down here were all smaller, as were the beds. The floors were not as nice, nor were the general accommodations. As he looked around in each of the wards, he found Saudi officers.

After cruising the fourth floor, they went to the third. Once again, this was a giant step down in terms of the accommodations. There were several large wards with very narrow cots shoved side-by-side. In places the paint was peeling, and there was a distinct off-odor in the air. It didn't take Murphy long to figure out that this was where the Saudi enlisted men had ended up.

Finally, in an incredibly crowded, almost airless room on the first floor he found a group of women. As he yelled into the ward, one of them grunted and waved an arm at him. "Captain?" he yelled again, "That you?"

"Yah, Murph, who'd you expect, your mother? Where you guys been? I've been asking for you. By the way, First Sergeant, is there any reason that fellow is trying to gnaw your hand, or are you two going together?"

"Right, Captain, for that I should leave you here, but I won't. Shit, Penny, we're up on the fifth floor with great accommodations, great food and a view. What the hell you doing down here?"

"Ask him, Al."

"Well, Doc, why's an American officer lying down here while the rest of us are up in the penthouse?"

"She is a woman."

Murphy saw red! If this was how they treated an American, he couldn't imagine where Rachel was. "Doc," he growled, "you got a job. You will push this bed out of this ward and into the elevator. We will then go to the fifth floor. You will push this officer, bed and all into our ward. Then, you will pick her up and gently put her in one of those spare beds. You got it?"

"I shall do nothing of the kind. She is unclean!"

"What the fuck you talking about asshole?"

Penny interjected, "Al, you're a married man, right?"

"Sure, Penny. What's that got to ... Oh, is that all?"

Murphy grabbed the doctor and with one quick flip of his wrist, threw him head first into the heavy, cast iron frame of a roller bed. Before the doctor could move, Murphy picked him up by his head and held him off the ground. "Fella, you just insulted an American officer and my CO. I don't give a sweet shit what you think, or like, or give a damn about. Grab the bed and start pushing." He flung the doctor against the bed.

The doors behind Murphy flapped, and he turned just in time to see two burly bodies racing towards him. He grabbed the first by the wrist, and quickly ducked under him, sending him flying across the room. The second jumped on Murphy's back, punching him in the kidneys.

Murphy heard Penny scream, "Americans to me! Help! Americans to me!" He felt a solid punch to the side of his head. Suddenly, the man screamed and fell to the floor. By that time, the first guy was up and charging Murphy like a bull. Before he could move to defend himself, Penny stepped forward and delivered a tremendous kick. The orderly crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

There was another rumbling at the door. Two women and a man entered. Each was encased in one way or another with dressings, but each had the light of battle in their eyes. Penny shouted, "I'm Austen, Penny Austen, Bravo Company, Twelfth Light." It turned out they were all Americans, including one female lieutenant, a female sergeant, and a Jewish sergeant. All of them had been subjected to the Saudi hospital caste system.

"OK, here's what we do. We'll start by getting ourselves up to the fifth floor. We'll find out who is capable and who isn't. Then, we'll divide up into strike teams. Let's find our people, American and Saudi, male or female and get them upstairs where they belong. The First Sergeant, here, says the beds are soft, the food's a hell of a lot better, and the doctor over there will take good care of us, or Murph will tear his jaw off!"

"Look, Captain," Murphy interjected, "I've searched the upper floors. Rachel ain't there. She's gotta be lower down. There's five of us, and we all seem to be able to move. Let's take a quick recce while we're here."

"No, Murph, just you and me. You three, upstairs to the fifth. Gather the troops and haul their asses down here."

The three of them raced to the elevators, while Murphy and Austen descended the stairs to the basement. They entered a scene out of Dickens. Four huge rooms exited off the central corridor. In each room, the bunks hung five deep from the ceilings with only a foot or so between them. A single bulb lit the otherwise dark caverns.

"Rachel," they both yelled, as they raced into the first ward. She wasn't there. Nor, was she in the second. They found her in the third ward, sixteenth row on the right, top bunk.

Murphy gently lifted her, leaving the doctor in the none-too-tender hands of his captain. Carefully, they brought her to the elevator and pressed the button. The door opened, and a group of ten bandaged patients stormed out, ready to advance into the face of the enemy.

"You Austen?" their leader asked. Penny nodded. "Grimsley, Second Battalion, Ninth Light. Any of mine down here?"

"Dunno, Major, but we're going to have to do something about this. We're going to take this woman upstairs right now and get her comfortable, and then we'll join you."

"Good! I've got patrols on each of the other floors. The natives don't seem to like it, but none of us give a damn about them. If our people are down here we'll find 'em. You have your orders, Captain."

In spite of her bandages, Penny stiffened and saluted. "Yes, Sir! Glad to be aboard." Two minutes later, Rachel was in a large, comfortable bed being greeted by her comrades-in-arms.

Two of the more mobile patients had arranged a couple of the beds as a barricade on the door. "Nobody passes unless we say so, right Captain?"

She gave them a thumbs up, "That's right." She grabbed the First Sergeant by the arm, "Come on, Murph, let’s go." The door wardens let them pass, and then pushed the heavy beds back in position.

It took three hours to sort things out. In the end, they found one Air Force lieutenant colonel, another Army major, a Navy lieutenant, a captain, and two lieutenants who'd been shoved off into the dungeons. They also found over sixty other Americans and Serving Saudis, as they called them, who had been misplaced, displaced, or otherwise ostracized by the hospital staff.

By the time they got back to the fifth floor, it was a lot more crowded and had taken on the appearance of a barracks. Each unit had formed up in adjacent beds within a ward. Adjacent units were all close to each other, and, for the most part, Twelfth was on one side of the wing while Ninth was on the other. Various and sundry Naval, Marine and Air Force types were spread around so they didn't get lonesome. It was turning into quite a party!

Rachel looked up from her bed to see Murphy standing over her, holding the doctor's shoulder in a grip of steel. She smiled weakly, "Murg-free! You have saved me!"

"Yah, partner, just like you saved me a dozen times over. And, this son of a bitch will tend to you, and make sure you recover so that you can rejoin your unit, soldier."

She smiled again, and then drifted off into sleep.

The tender look left Murphy's face, as he grabbed the doctor by his head. Slowly, the sergeant lifted the man until he was standing on his toes. Nose to nose with the doctor, Murphy snarled, "If she dies, I tear you apart one limb at a time. This soldier is my partner, and we take care of each other in this outfit!"

The only comment came from Lieutenant Mohammed, who croaked, "Damn straight!" Everyone else in the room just nodded, glaring angrily at the terror-stricken doctor.

10.11.2 Hospital Party

The hospital administrator complained bitterly about the "Hospital Revolt" to both Saudi and American officials. Since the revolt involved American troops, General Algarro was informed. When he had investigated the particulars of the incident, he called General a-Fayd. The following morning the two of them arrived at the hospital ready to do their duty.

They sat patiently for quite some time as the hospital administrator bemoaned the attack on his personnel. He complained about the unruly behavior of the Americans. He wailed about the unseemly, ungodly, and indecent mixing of the sexes, castes and faiths in his hospital.

General Algarro was boiling mad. His palms itched. He wanted to throttle the stupid bastard, but this was Saudi territory. It wasn't his place to say anything to a Saudi official.

The administrator wanted to go on with his litany, but General a-Fayd curtly interrupted him, "You will come with me. I shall inspect these rooms and this entire hospital." He, Algarro, and a large number of their aides followed the administrator to the rebel's headquarters on the fifth floor.

Upon exiting the elevator, they found themselves in a shallow corral made of tables and benches. A desk blocked their way. A large man with a bandaged head and First Sergeant stripes painted on his heavily gauzed arms sat behind it.

As the generals stepped out of the elevator, the sergeant jumped to attention. "Welcome to the Allied wing, Generals. Is there anyone in particular you would like to visit?"

"What's your name and unit, Sergeant?"

"First Sergeant Aloisis Murphy, Sir. Bravo Company, Second Battalion, Twelfth Light, Sir!"

Algarro shook Murphy's hand. "First Sergeant, I'm damned glad to meet you! Who's in charge around here?"

"Colonel Jefferson Knight, Sir. He's an Air Force puke, but we've taken him under our wing, and he's OK. Take a left out the "door", end of the corridor on the left. Password is "Fuck 'em"! Honest, General, without it they won't let you in. Security and all that, Sir."

Algarro grinned and headed up the corridor, followed by his entourage. As he approached the secured double doors, he shouted, "Fuck 'em." The doors swung open a crack and a slender mass of bandages peered out. In a muted voice, he gasped, "Oh shit!", and then, turning back into the room yelling, "Attention!"

The two generals, their aides, and the hospital administrator entered to view a most unusual hospital scene. Instead of the orderly rows of beds parked against the walls, they were arranged in six groups. Most of the people in each group were heavily bandaged, some with IV's dripping. Within each group one or two were up and about, ministering to their bunkmates. Just as the administrator had said, both men and women were in the ward. Some of them were Americans, some were Saudis, and the rest were just masses of bandages.

"Colonel Knight?"

"Over here, General. Sorry, but I busted both legs -- one when I bailed out and the other when I landed. Welcome to the Ninth Light Composite Division, Air Force Section. May I introduce my staff?"

"We'll get to them all," Algarro said. He motioned to his aide, who rushed forward carrying a large box. Algarro reached in and pulled out an envelope. He opened it, pulling out a couple of flat covered boxes and a letter.

"Colonel Jefferson Knight, for bravery and distinguished service in the air battle over Buqayd, I award you with the Distinguished Flying Cross with the complements of the President of the United States and thanks of a grateful country." He pinned the DFC on the Colonel's bandaged arm. "Now, Colonel, let's meet them all."

Slowly, but at the same time quickly, the two generals moved around the room presenting awards for bravery and meritorious service. The hospital administrator was dismayed. The generals moved to the next room, and the awards continued. They kept it up throughout the morning, except for one break for the mid-morning prayer.

It was after the noon prayer, when Murphy saw the generals come through the double-doors to enter the "Realm of the Twelfth". Murphy, who was now off desk duty, was one of the few who was able to rise to greet the generals. As they worked their way around the room, Murphy was surprised to see that everybody, both men and women, American and Saudis were receiving awards.

Finally, Algarro approached him. "First Sergeant, I looked up your record. General Duncaster says you and Mohammed both earned the Silver Star up in Jubayl. Murphy, I've put you in for the Medal of Honor for what you did out there in that gas attack. From what I've read from your CO and Captain Austen, the only reason any of you survived, and especially these unprotected Saudis here, was your quick thinking and courage in the face of overwhelming odds. I salute you Al Murphy." And, he did!

Then, General a-Fayd stepped forward. "First Sergeant Aloisis Murphy, for services rendered to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, whereby you saved the lives of very many of His Majesty's troops by your heroism and valor, His Majesty has commanded me to raise you to the high rank of the Warrior of the Prophet." The general opened a gilt case and extracted a huge, jeweled brooch hanging from a white ribbon. "I would place this around your neck, but I understand that it would cause you pain. So, I will hand it to you. In our land, you are a knight of the realm. I am honored!" Then, he too stepped back and saluted!

"Holy shit!" Murphy thought to himself, "Sir Aloisis of Buffalo!"

Algarro returned to Murphy's side and pointed to a small waif in a big bed. "Is this the renowned warrior, Rachel of Al-Zahran?"

It took Murphy a second or two to realize what General Algarro had asked. "Yes, Sir. This is my partner, Rachel, and if you’re asking if she's a soldier's soldier, then the answer is yes."

Algarro stepped back, turned towards the room, and bellowed, "Attention! Bravo Company, front and center!" A couple of the guys pushed a few of the beds closer, while the walking wounded gathered around.

General a-Fayd turned so that he could face Rachel, and they could see him at the same time. He smiled as he looked down into Rachel's bandaged face. "For conspicuous gallantry, for valor and for bravery above and beyond the call of duty, the King has commanded me to raise you, Rachel of Al-Zahran, to the exalted rank of Warrior of Allah and Defender of the Faith. You are free of this kingdom. You may travel without hinder or let in the lands of the King and his allies. You are accorded the privileges of the Mosque and The Court of His Majesty.

"In accordance with this High Honor, his Majesty awards you titles, estates, and a pension vested in your name and title. Your name and title, including your estates and pensions, shall be inherited by your heir, who you shall name within your lifetime, and shall be passed on by your family until the end of time."

He took out a great golden box and laid it gently on the bed. From it he pulled a huge star-like jewel and hung it around her bandaged neck. He lifted out a small golden sword and put in her right hand. He placed a gilt-edged scroll in the crook of her left arm and bent to one knee to kiss the bandages of her hand.

"I am honored to be in the presence of a Warrior of Allah. The King sends his greetings and invites you to join him on his pilgrimage to Makkah. I am to await your answer.