The morning sun had just begun to rise when Vice Admiral Curtis L. Winters, Chief of 7th Fleet Operations, arrived at the base hospital. Weary from a night on the phone with pentagon officials he stifled a yawn as he entered the conference room where Captain Heinriche and Masterchief Floyd Morgan waited. Morgan started to stand but the admiral waved him back down. Heinriche reluctantly got up from his chair and led him to McGarrett's room.

Both men were very subdued from the impact Commander McGarrett's revalation.

Saprestien had assured Captain Heinriche an hour or so earlier that Steve was arouseable. But he had not been able to bring himself to face the man alone. Heinriche held the door for his superior as they slipped in past an exiting lab tech.

Winters studied the man that lay quietly in the darkened room. From what he knew of the commander he was not prone to exaggeration and therefore the wild tale was sadly one hundred percent true. But there was still the possibility that McGarrett had been mistaken and in the back of his mind Winters still clung to this dim hope of averting the upcoming crisis.

Heinriche watched the IV fluid drop into the drip chamber as he tried to figure out what he was going to say.

Winters exhaled forcefully and leaned over the rail to awaken the sleeping man. He stopped abruptly, with his hand hovering over McGarrett's right shoulder, and gave Heinriche a questioning glance.

"Right side Sir." Heinriche clarified.

The admiral nodded and pulled back his hand. "Commander?" He asked as he reached across the bed to shake McGarrett's left shoulder.

At the slight touch Steve jolted awake. "What?" He asked as his eyes darted around the room then focused on Heinriche. A look of panic grew on his face. "Something happen to Glen?"

"Relax." Heinriche reassured. "I saw him not too long ago. He's still dopey but OK."

"Why scare the hell out of me then?" Steve, though still a bit shaken, demanded.

Heinriche looked at McGarrett curiously as he wondered where that reaction had came from. Inwardly he was relieved that Steve hadn't tried to dive underneath anything this time.

Heinriche's thoughts were interrupted as Winters jerked him back towards the door.

"Level with me Al." The admiral asked when they were back in the corridor. "Is he alright?"

As Heinriche looked back into the room he wondered, unlike the previous incident in the office, Steve didn't seem as agitated. Maybe that's an improvement He thought as he watched the man stare into nothingness. Heinriche knew that most of the time it was impossible to tell what McGarrett was thinking anyhow. "I think so Sir." he replied after a moment. "Perhaps last night was just a little too close to what happened to him in Korea."

In agreement Winters sighed and nodded his head slightly.

"That on top of the crash." Heinriche continued in defense of his officer. "Which we didn't allow him to recover from. I wouldn't blame him for being a bit jumpy. In fact, I'd wonder more about him if he wasn't."

Winters thought back to the one-sided conversation he had with Admiral Arleigh Burke that had compelled him to order Captain Heinriche to push Commander McGarrett. "You're probably right Al." He replied in agreement and headed back into the room.

"Commander..." The admiral asked thoughtfully as he walked up to the bed. "Are you alright?"

Steve answered with a slow nod of his head as his mind slowly focused on reality.

"That's one incredible story Son." Winters continued. "Are you sure about this mole business?"

"Yes Sir." Steve replied with certainty.

A wave of fear coursed through Admiral Winters as he stared at the man before him. A traitor is one thing. He thought. Good men do go bad. But deep planted Russian moles... "Sweet Jesus!" The admiral whistled in astonishment. "If it's true the entire military will come to a screeching halt.

"I'm well aware of what it means Sir." Steve retorted. "Just vetting five hundred and twenty three guys is not going to be enough. We are going to have to take their histories back to day one. And if this went on at Lang Bak, Admiral, then who's to say it wasn't happening in the other camps as well. That's another seven thousand plus names."

Heinriche stared out the window.

Admiral Winters shook his head in astonishment. He swallowed hard at the implications of McGarrett's statement and willed himself not to tremble.

"Good Lord." The captain whispered.

"And there's only four of us to conduct the investigation." Steve sighed as he slid down in the bed.

Heinriche paced the room as he tried to assimilate the situation.

As Steve lay in the bed and stared at the ceiling he suddenly remembered the letter from Allied Chemical with Jim Warren's name on it. "It could spread into the civilian sector too Sir." He said.

Heinriche stopped his pacing and raised an eyebrow at McGarrett.

As Steve described the coincidental discovery of his friend's name on the letterhead and how because of the radical difference in backgrounds between the two men he had dismissed the entire scenario.

Winters was even more aghast at the enormity of the situation. The admiral took a few steps away from the side of the bed and began to feel his knees go weak. "Son." He implored as he leaned on the foot of the bed for support and shook his head. "Are you certain this is the man who shot you?"

"Yes Sir." Steve replied with finality. "I got a good look at him six years ago. They intended to kill us and put agents in our places. Ready made covers. Once the war was over they could be reassigned all over the world. New jobs, new friends. Who'd ever question...except for their families." Steve winced as he scooted back up in the bed. "Sir, I remember what it was like when the Freedom Gate came open. It was nuts. People were being reassigned before we could even begin to debrief them. It took over a year to process all the paperwork and try to chase down who had gotten missed." Steve suddenly laughed which caused both men to stare at him curiously. "Four single intelligence officers. Man what a golden opportunity missed. I wonder what they did to Tang for that."

Winters smiled reluctantly.

"If you get the file from DC on Masterchief Garvin, Sir, I guarantee the photo and fingerprints won't match the Ivan we've got here." Swallowing hard Steve stared up at the ceiling. "I wonder who the real Garvin was."

"That's a bad road Son." Heinriche said as he put his hand on Steve's arm in sympathy. "Don't even start down it."

There had been seven thousand four hundred and eighty-one US POW's during the Korean Conflict. Winters was unsure of the totals for England and the rest the NATO countries, but the numbers were probably similar he figured. And each of those men was now a potential spy. The admiral's stomach knotted as his mind recoiled at the thought.

Captain Heinriche did not know what to think as he stood in bewilderment at the side of the bed.

"They are going to want you in the Pentagon." Winters remarked for lack of anything else to say at the moment.

"No way!" McGarrett fumed as he quickly sat up in the bed. He lay back against the pillow when the room started to tilt. "I've been poked, prodded, scanned from top to bottom and swallowed enough pills it's a wonder I don't rattle. Just when I've about had it up to the eyeballs." He made a semi-coordinated gesture over his head and accidentally dislodged the steel IV cannula. "They let me go. Then I chase my tail all over the island trying to find Garvin. The SOB tried to blow me off my deck. Twice! And so far tonight, I've been shot at, run over by my co-worker." Cautiously he turned his head in order to glare at Heinriche. "Even beat up by my boss. Enough is enough!" To punctuate his statement McGarrett threw the needle across the room. "I just want to be left alone. Here!"

Heinriche had learned long ago that reasoning with McGarrett was sometimes impossible. This was one of those times. Winters on the other hand was taken aback by the attitude.

Both men left the room.

"Forceful man isn't he?" Winters observed as the duo rounded the corner into the lobby.

"He can be." Heinriche remarked. "But it's not like him to refuse an order."

"After what he's been through." The admiral pressed the elevator call button. "Can't say that I blame him."

He was relieved that the admiral was not going to file charges. "He'll come around." The captain nodded in agreement.

"The brass really ought to do something here." Winters decided as he turned to face Heinriche. "You know him Al. What does he want?"

"McGarrett doesn't beat around the bush Admiral." Heinriche replied. "You heard him. He wants us to leave him alone."

"Its too bad that's not possible." Winters confessed.

"I know." Heinriche answered as he finally gave voice to the guilt he had been feeling since this had begun. The elevator door opened. "I'm the one who pushed him beyond endurance...."

"Had to be done though Al." Winters consoled as he pushed the captain into the car. "But not in a million years could we have anticipated this."

"As the car began to descend Heinriche had a great idea. "Sir, I'd be willing to bet he could put your barge to good use for a couple of days."

"That's it!?" Winters, somewhat surprised, blurted out. "Heck give it to him for two weeks. Crew included." Then with a wry smile added. "Stiff ocean breeze just might be what it takes to cool him off." Admiral Winters, friend of retired Admiral Tom Hartwell, had been keeping a discreet eye on McGarrett's career since his arrival in Hawaii. After the crash it had been Winters who pulled the strings necessary to transfer the three MDs from Japan. He had tried unsuccessfully to reason with Thirty-knot Burke over forcing McGarrett, but there had never been much tolerance between the two men because of an incident during their Academy days, and the CNO had made up his mind. Winters felt just as guilty as Heinriche.

At the chime the doors slid open and both officers stepped into the ground floor lobby.

"He could probably drive it himself." Heinriche chuckled with delight at McGarrett's upcoming reward. "Your boat's not nearly as big as the Excalibur was."

Winters stopped in mid stride and turned towards Heinriche. "The ship that backed across the East China Sea?" He exclaimed. " THAT WAS MCGARRETT?"

Heinriche nodded. "There's a picture of what was left of the crew and a chunk of the engine on his wall."

"Holy..." Winters whistled.

"Quite a story." Heinriche sighed.

"I was in Tokyo when that happened. Winters said as he recalled the event. "My chef goes with it."

Heinriche grinned as he wondered just how far the admiral was going to go.

That crew was jipped! Winters thought. "You think he wants the band too?" The admiral grinned.

"Now that I don't know." Heinriche replied. "I know he hates parades."

"Really?" Winters replied. "Doesn't strike me as being the shy type."

"Any kind of public speaking engagement." The captain replied. "He tries to get out of it."

Winters laughed as he recalled the fiasco of what he figured was probably the young ensign's, now a full commander, first public address. "The boat and crew, my chef and the band for two weeks as soon as they are healthy enough to enjoy it." Winters ordered as he walked towards the front door of the hospital. "Oh and Al.." He abruptly stopped mid stride and turned toward Heinriche who had stopped to lean against a display case "Tell him I'll throw in some of that new SCUBA stuff if he knows how to use it."

"If he doesn't already." Heinriche thought he had seen a set of tanks in the office on several occasions but had never bothered to find out which officer liked to dive. "I'm sure he'll learn."

Winters chuckled then stated with admiration "This kid keeps it up he's going to be an admiral before he's forty"

Heinriche saluted as the admiral opened the door.

"Get some sleep Al." Winters advised as the two men parted company.

*********

The morning sun streamed in through the open window. Regardless of which way he turned Steve could not avoid the light. Saprestien had just left after lecturing him for tearing out the IV. Of all the men whom had dared to stand up to him, McGarrett mused; the majority of them had been doctors. This one had given him two options, drink what had seemed like a gallon of water or the IV would be restarted and his hands tied down for the duration. The former seemed the best option, so reluctantly he choked down the proffered water.

Now that he was awake McGarrett decided he might as well find out what was going on and tossed back the sheet. Splinting his ribcage he cautiously sat on the edge of the bed and waited for his equilibrium to return then slid out of the bed. Holding on to the furniture he made his way to the closet to retrieve the uniform someone had thoughtfully left for him and returned to the bed.

Clothes on. Shoes tied. Still vertical. Steve grinned in triumph as he lay back on the bed to plot his next move. Based on the view outside the window and the K-shaped crack in the ceiling that he had stared at for two months Steve concluded that he was back in his old room on the fourth floor. His next objective was to locate Glen.

"Morning Sir." Private Jones greeted and hesitantly entered the room.

There was a sling on the marine's right arm and Steve could see part of a dressing underneath the olive drab T-shirt. "What in the world happened to you?" He asked.

"You don't remember Sir?" The marine replied as he sat in the chair beside the bed. "The maintenance man shot me right before you charged out of the fire stairs."

"You were there last night?" Steve ventured. "How did..."

Jones assumed that McGarrett did not remember the events that had landed them both in the hospital and related his part in the situation along with what few pieces of information he had managed to gather.

At Jones expressed wish to know what had started the whole thing Steve filled in most of the holes in the kid's story.

"Wow!" Jones swallowed in astonishment and rubbed his arm.

"Good job private." Steve praised and started to salute before he realized neither of them could complete the gesture. "Congratulations." He smiled. "You just got your first medal."

"Huh Sir?" Jones wondered.

"The spy was Russian that technically makes it a combat related injury." Steve informed.

"Oh yeah." Jones beamed. "Hey! I gotta tell my momma!!"

"Uh..." McGarrett uttered in an effort to rein in the private's enthusiasm. "That's not exactly the kind of thing mothers want to hear over the phone from six thousand miles away."

"Yeah. You're right Sir." The marine agreed and slumped back dejectedly in his chair.

"When's the last time you saw her?" Steve asked when he saw the young man's disappointment.

"At the train station when I left for boot camp Sir."

"Graduation?"

"It was harvest time Sir. Papa couldn't leave the farm just for that. My older sister had a baby that same week so Mamma had to stay with her. And the others are younger than me."

"Everything's West of Parris Island. You could have stopped on your way out here."

"I was going to Sir." Jones replied and slid further down in his chair. "A sergeant came along and shoved my platoon into a transport plane on its way to Korea. We got as far as Tokyo and told we would be reassigned from there. Thirty-six hours later I was here."

"I'll talk to Colonel Abrahms later." Steve promised as he sat up. "You can recover in the states just as well as here."

"Thank you Commander!" Jones replied excitedly.

"But for right now." Steve asked as he stood and hung onto the back of the chair until his balance returned. "Do you know where Lieutenant Anderson is?"

"Sure Sir." Jones replied as he tilted his head up to look at the officer leaning over his shoulder. "Three doors down. But he's still out of it."

Though it had only been a few feet between his room and Glen's Steve felt like he had ran a mile as he pushed open the maple wood door. Anderson appeared to be relaxed McGarrett decided as he watched the rise and fall of his friend's chest. Beneath the white USN lettered blanket Steve could see that Glen's leg was elevated on a pillow. Someone had assured him during the night that Glen's injury was not serious. Even though he was dazed at the time McGarrett remained unconvinced. In the semi-darkness he could see part of the sutures amidst the blood streaked blonde hair on the back of Glen's head. Looks serious enough to me. Steve thought. But the absence, save for the single IV in his left hand, of tubes and wires meant that it was not a critical injury. McGarrett stared at the tiny clear drops of fluid as they fell from the plastic spike into the chamber and counted the rate at twenty-eight per minute. The number seemed low since his had been set at forty drops. Maybe it's a different kind. Steve rationalized as he leaned over to try and read the black lettering on the olive green label that was pasted on the glass IV bottle. He grabbed hold of Glen's bedrail as the room tilted briefly.

The motion of his bed served to arouse Anderson who moaned as his eyes tried to adjust to the dim light.

"Good afternoon." Steve grinned as he looked down at his friend. "About time you joined us. How do you feel?"

"Hey Steve." Glen mumbled as he tried to focus on his fuzzy visitor. "No wonder you didn't want to wake up." The affects of the sedation were just beginning to wear off. "This is pretty OK." He giggled. "I'm way high up someplace but...oh man what a ride!"

Steve shook his head in disbelief. The disconnectedness that had annoyed him was a pleasure for Glen. "Enjoy it while you can then." He explained. "You'll be crashing in a few hours."

"Gee thanks." Glen groaned. He was sorry that his fuzzy pink orbit was going to come to an abrupt and probably painful end.

"I called Ron and Roger." Steve continued as he walked over to the window and sat on the radiator underneath it. "They're on their way here. Garvin's back in surgery."

"Garvin?" Glen mumbled. "I don't remember a Garvin...."

"That's the name The Spy was using." Steve told him.

"You OK?" Anderson slurred as the sedation tried to carry him back into the cloud.

"Yeah." Steve replied rubbing his right arm. "I guess so. Heck there's nothing left on me to break. They want to keep me anyway though. I'm not fighting it. Yet."

"Heaven help us when you do...." Glen teased as he tried to smile.

Steve smiled reluctantly as he slowly stood up. "Admiral Winters is on my back now. We're liable to have to go to DC because of this."

"Nuts!" Glen sighed. "Any other good news..."

"No. That's about it." Steve replied as he walked towards the foot of the bed. "You know." He continued as he dropped into the gray vinyl chair. "For one day I'd like everyone to just leave me alone."

Nurse Parker walked into the room with her usual purposeful gait intent on checking Glen's neurological status. "Commander!" She gasped in surprise and halted abruptly. "What are you doing in here?" She quickly recovered and glared sternly at the visitor.

"Look out Glen." Steve grinned and pointed towards Doris. "It's The Hatchet Lady."

"Back where you belong." She ordered as she moved to chase him out of the room.

"In a few minutes." Steve replied and put his feet up on the corner of Glen's bed. "Garvin out of surgery yet?"

"No." She replied and lifted Glen's arm out from underneath the wool blanket. "Is the grapevine true?" She ventured curiously. "That you put him in that condition? And that he's really a Russian?"

"That's some grapevine." Steve started to laugh but bit his lip as the edges of his rib grated against each other. "How did? Never mind....unofficially....guilty on both counts."

Doris Parker's jaw dropped in response and she let Glen's arm fall back onto the bed.

"You gonna lecture me for that too." Steve teased.

"Yes, I am." She replied as she straightened her posture. "You should have finished the job. Now I have to take care of him."

Despite the agony in his chest Steve couldn't help but laugh at the mischievous look on her face. "Get your needle ready." He choked out between gasps.

"You deserved that." Parker said curtly as she noted Glen's vitals on the flow sheet. "I'm sure I can come up with something better for this scum."

"I'll bet you can." McGarrett winced as he tried to resume a normal breathing pattern.

"Ten minutes Commander." Doris ordered as she snapped the chart closed. "I'd better find you in your room waiting for me." With the ultimatum delivered Nurse Parker turned on her heel and exited the room.

"What'd you do to her?" Glen smirked.

"I don't know exactly." Steve glared at Anderson. "Probably the three months I spent on her ward."

"Well that explains everything." Anderson replied as he rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Just you wait pal." Steve shot him a dirty look. "She'll get you."

Glen was still in another world when he giggled at his friend's warning. "What happens now?" He asked as reality started to set in.

"Till Garvin comes around. You're going to enjoy what's left of your buzz. And I'm going to take a nap." Steve stated as he flexed his knees. "Till the brass finds me anyway." He added with a sigh.

"And when Garvin does...." Glen muttered through his haze.

"You ever do one of those pentathol confessions?" McGarrett, hoping for experience in the procedure, inquired."

"On the giving end. Nope." Glen replied. "You?"

"I saw it done once by an Aussie leftenant."

"You going to do Garvin?" Glen asked with a grin from the impending excitement.

"Try to anyway." Steve sighed in resolution.

"What about Heinriche?" Anderson stated. "That old fart was attached to OSS for a while. Surely he must have done it before."

"He's tied up with the admirals." Steve informed. "That leaves me." Steve put his feet on the floor, grabbed hold of Glen's bedrail and slowly pulled himself to a standing position.

"Don't know if I'll be much help." Glen said. "But come get me before you start."

"Thanks." Steve replied. He was glad that he was not going to do the job alone. "Enjoy your ride." McGarrett grinned as he turned to leave the room.

The bed had been made while he was in Glen's room McGarrett noted before he collapsed on top of it. Steve was asleep when Nurse Parker entered, exactly ten minutes after her departure from Anderson's room. She did not have the heart to wake him up and had quietly shut the blinds and left the room.

Saprestien, on his afternoon rounds, merely looked in the door in order to assure the patient was still breathing.

Admiral Winters had insisted that the other flag officers refrain from disturbing McGarrett.

Late that evening Garvin was brought out of recovery and into the confinement room at the far end of the hall.

Ensign Tomlich had been assigned to watch the prisoner while McAdams was running between the rooms and updating Heinriche on the men's conditions.

Jerry McAdams reluctantly entered the room and saw that someone had put a blanket over McGarrett since his last check. He walked up to the bed and gently tugged on the khaki sleeve. "Sir?" He called out softly.

"Go away." Steve replied groggily and placed his left arm over his eyes.

"I'd like to Commander, believe me." McAdams apologized.

"So.. What's stopping you." Steve's subconscious retorted.

"They're moving the prisoner Sir." Jerry stated as he shook a little bit harder.

"What!" Steve replied as he jolted awake. "Where? Let's go."

McAdams led the way as McGarrett staggered along behind him.

Garvin had just arrived in his room as the pair of officers slipped in unnoticed behind the nurses and waited quietly in the corner for the women to leave.

"What are you going to do Sir?" The Lieutenant asked with trepidation as Steve approached the bed.

McGarrett lifted The Spy's left eyelid and tapped him on the chest. There was no response from underneath the heavy blankets.

"You're about to learn the ugly side of our business." Steve replied as he glared icily at the unconscious Garvin. "We've got a while yet. Go get Glen and the others. Bill! He might have done this before "Fitzsimmons still acting CO?"

McAdams nodded. "He's been going over the Russian's quarters all day Sir. The office is a mess. Chief's got every available man looking for bugs. Nobody's even swept up the glass yet."

"Ask Bill to call me. Oh and while you're at it see if Doc Saprestien is still around." Steve shook the bedrail hard enough to move Garvin's body. " I'd hate to accidentally kill the bastard."

Tomlich sat very quietly in the corner unsure of what to say as Steve stood beside the bed staring at the prisoner.

Doc Saprestien stepped in front of Glen who was being pushed in a wheelchair by Lt. McAdams in order to be the first one in the room. "What's going on here?" The MD demanded. "Who said you could leave your room."

"I did." McGarrett retorted angrily.

Just by being in the same room with one of his former captors Glen could feel his emotions start to rage out of control. By the expression on Steve's face he could tell that his ex-cellmate was riding the same roller coaster. "This is business Steve." Glen reminded.

McGarrett stared out the barred window for several minutes before turning around to face the group. After a brief glance of appreciation at Anderson he turned towards Doc and stated very calmly that Spy was about to confess.

Saprestien looked at the very unconscious man on the bed then stared at Steve in confusion.

"How much pentathol did he get?" McGarrett demanded.

"I don't...." Doc picked up the chart that was lying, courtesy of Ensign Foggarty, on the end of the bed and began to leaf through it. "He didn't. Serepen and Diludad are the only things I see that are even similar. Why?"

Steve wanted to get on with the interrogation.

"Well, does that work the same way?" He demanded.

"You talked your head off." Saprestien retorted as he returned McGarrett's intense glare. "If that's what you are wanting. The effects will be similar." He tossed the chart back on the bed and stood up to his full five foot six inch height. "Just what are you planning on doing to him?"

"Nothing much." Steve replied with a brief predatory smile that scared the life out of Saprestien. "Just convince him that it'd be in his best interest to tell me everything he knows."

Doc returned to his position against the wall and didn't say another word. In the four months that he had known McGarrett, he had never seen this side of him. He had seen McGarrett's emotions run the gamut from elation to depression and just about everything in between. In moments of pain, anger, frustration and even in the midst of delusional rage McGarrett's eyes had not held the fire that they did at this moment. He really didn't know quite how to handle this situation or for that matter, if he should even try to. Deep down he did have reservations on how this would affect the man named Garvin. But since Garvin was not his patient and McGarrett was........

"Perfect." Steve stated as he pushed back Garvin's eyelid and observed the pupil reaction. "OK folks here we go. Foggarty tape the microphone to him."

Steve then bent over the man's bed and whispered "ya telbya lublo meelie" quietly into his ear and ruffled Spy's hair.

"What was that?" Foggarty, ever eager to learn, asked in excitement.

McGarrett turned to face the wide-eyed young man and grinned broadly. "I love you darling."

Foggarty blushed at the statement and wished he could sink into the floor.

"He thinks I'm his girlfriend." Steve explained. "He'll trust me. Everything will be in Russian for a while." He then cautioned the group that that too many interruptions would ruin the effectiveness of the interrogation. McGarrett turned his attention back to the prisoner and began to reassure him in his native language until Spy was visibly relaxed.

"Kooda Ahmerakanetz!" McGarrett yelled abruptly and switched into a KGB colonel persona.

The Soviet agent started to squirm anxiously. "Ya na yeh paneemayoo." He pleaded.

"Stoy! Gavareetyah ahngleeske!" McGarrett ordered the man to speak in English.

"I...do not know...comrade." Garvin pleaded. "They are gone. Escaped from the Korean."

"They were your responsibility!" McGarrett reprimanded.

"No excuse Sir." Garvin said quietly.

Steve laughed to himself at the very familiar statement.

"We must find the Americans." McGarrett ordered. "Tell me what you know."

The Spy (AKA Garvin) in his drugged state believed that he was back in North Korea on that fateful day in June of 1952. He was in very serious trouble with this Colonel from the KGB over the escape of four very important prisoners. Garvin's cloudy mind struggled to form the words to please his superior.

Vasheheeyma?" Steve asked very politely for the spy's given name.

"Alexi Michailivich Gordov, Sir." He answered in confusion. In the back of his mind he wondered why his spymaster did not recall his name.

"I said English!" Steve leaned over the rail and screamed into the man's ear and slapped him across the face. "You are going to be one of the agents Alexi. Do not let this slip up happen again! Now what is your name?"

"Junior Lieutenant Roger Seamus Hennessey, Sir." Garvin beamed.

Steve felt his world tilt at the mention of his fellow prisoner's name and grabbed hold of the rail to keep himself upright. He had questioned himself many times whether the decision to escape at that moment had been correct. When enough intel had been gathered to make the escape possible the plan had been flee into the woods under the cover of darkness. Waiting would have spared them the severe injuries incurred during the escape but could they have withstood the additional captivity. Steve had come to believe that he would never know whether that morning he had saved their lives or pushed the panic button. He was certain that neither Glen nor Ron blamed him for their injuries but could the situation have been avoided if he had not of ordered the abrupt change in plans. Garvin had just laid that dilemma to rest with his assertion that his name was Roger Seamus Hennessey. The North Koreans had indeed planned to kill them that day in order allow Alexi and three others to assume their identities.

Glen started to get up and collapsed back into the chair. His head began to spin and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Ron and most definitely Roger would have to be told about this. How would they take the news Anderson wondered.

McGarrett cautiously shook his head, took several deep breaths and stared out the window. In the back of his mind he wondered how Glen was reacting to this revelation. Steve knew that if he chanced to look at his former cellmate he would loose what little focus he had left.

Several minutes of silence passed as the junior officers exchanged confused looks.

Saprestien was about to inquire if Steve was all right when he saw that he had turned back towards the prisoner.

"Very good Alexi!" Steve praised. "Now tell me what you know of the Americans."

The Russian was convinced that he had pleased his KGB handler and spoke for well over forty-five minutes. He detailed the plan to insert agents into the US military as returning POWs until he was too exhausted to continue and slipped back into unconsciousness.

Steve wearily sat on the end of Garvin's bed, leaned against the footboard and stared at the floor. The interrogation was going far better than he had expected.

Glen propelled the wheelchair next to the end of the bed. "Well, it worked." He stated quietly. "Steve. My God they really were going to kill us weren't they."

"Da drook." McGarrett replied unaware that he was still in his KGB colonel mode.

"Oh man...." Glen sighed.

"Sorry." Steve apologized for the Russian statement and returned to his personality. "Yeah. After they broke us anyhow. That was Tang's job."

McGarrett's energy was drained almost to exhaustion again as he looked up at his friend. Both men were still taken aback by the revelation.

The junior officers still did not understand what was going on between Steve and Glen. Saprestien had just begun to figure it out.

"You OK?" Anderson asked in concern. "Yeah." Steve answered as he sat up straight and rubbed the tense muscles in the back of his neck. "This thing's more mentally tiring than I thought it would be." "Let me have a crack at him then." Anderson offered with an unconscious sneer on his face.

McGarrett considered his options. "No. That'd ruin it." He decided. "He knows me as his friend and his enemy. Right now he's so far off balance that he'll say anything. The introduction of someone else is just too big of a variable." He gave his friend a half-hearted pat on the arm. "I'm Ok Glen, really."

Anderson knew better but let the statement ride. "There's something I have to know...."

Steve raised his eyebrows in expectation of Glen's question.

"Find out if Tang's really dead."

"For you Comrade." McGarrett grinned as he squeezed carefully past Glen's elevated leg and approached the head of the bed.

"Alexi." Steve whispered as he gently shook the Soviet. "Time to wake up darling." He cooed in Russian.

After a few moments Garvin moaned reluctantly.

"The Korean, Tang." McGarrett commanded as he returned to the aggressive persona. "He is responsible for the loss of the Americans. What has been done about that?"

"My friend." Garvin laughed from the sedative. "I killed him myself and hung his body as a warning to the rest of the lazy pigs."

Glen clapped his hands together in relief and let out a deep sigh.

"You fool!" Steve barked as he slapped the prisoner again. "We need him to find the Americans."

"I assure you. They are done for." Garvin quickly replied. "I got two of them from the helicopter. The other one was dying."

"That leaves one unaccounted for." Steve reprimanded.

"The dogs will have him." Garvin spat.

"Then they will have eaten your cover Gordov." Steve said. "We cannot take this risk. Alexi, you would have been an officer. No more. You will be sent for retraining. If you are lucky you will remain in the program. But your chance to be Hennessey just ended."

Glen sat up straight in the wheelchair at the sound of Rogers's name.

"OK Alexi." Steve redirected the Russian. "You are Peter William Garvin now. Tell me how you got to America. How did you pass the debriefing?"

"With all the other prisoners they let go." He answered. "I told the officers I was fine and wanted to get back to work. They were most helpful."

"Through the Freedom Gate?" Steve asked as he strove for clarification.

"Yes. That is what they called it." The Russian said with a smile. "They fed me ice cream till I was sick."

McGarrett's stomach knotted at the thought of the man having been so close to him. "Who was the officer?" He demanded.

"I do not....is it important?"

"Yes!" Steve demanded as he grabbed the spy by his gown.

"Steve." Glen cautioned.

"I...his name was odd....Mick something. Why Comrade?"

"Mc what?" Steve demanded as he grabbed the Soviet by the shoulders.

"Comrade!" Garvin cried out in agony.

"Steve." Glen sternly reminded. "Business first."

"I don't remember Sir." Garvin choked out between sobs. "He was a tall man."

"You had better remember, Comrade." Steve ordered as the anger within him grew.

The Spy lay quietly for several tense seconds. "McAllister." Relieved that he was able to provide the required information, Garvin sighed at length. " Lieutenant Chauncey McAllister."

McGarrett released his grip on the Russian and stepped back from the bed. He grabbed hold of the bedrail with both hands and leaned his upper body forward in relief. Army First Lieutenant Chauncey McAllister had been McGarrett's officemate during those days on the DMZ. He had disappeared on a reconnaissance mission back into North Korea. Chauncey was not missed fondly by any of the officers in his section.

"The intelligence fools." Garvin continued to gloat. "They were debriefing the sick and dying ones first. By the time anyone got to me I was already assigned to a ship. No one ever came after me. Comrade, I have done good for the Motherland?"

"Yes Alexi." Steve reassured the man with a gentle squeeze of the forearm. "You have performed well." Too well He thought to himself. "But you must get the last piece of information to your handlers. "How will you do that?"

"I do not have anything." The prisoner insisted.

"You took it from their safe." Steve reminded. "It is imperative that."

Garvin shook his head.

"You are here." Steve explained in a consoling voice. "Alexi, you may die."

McGarrett walked over to the window and stared unseeingly through the blinds as he considered his next step. Garvin was suddenly not co-operating and Steve wondered what he must do to bring the man back to trusting him. After a few moments he returned to the prisoner and looked down at him. "Damn." He swore under his breath. "He's coming out of it."

Garvin shifted ever so slightly in the bed.

"Doc?" Steve asked. "Can you give him something?"

Saprestien looked up at the mention of his name. He had momentarily drifted from the conversation and had to struggle to recall what Steve had just said to him "Steve I." He hesitated. "He's not my patient. I can't just..."

"He just became your patient." McGarrett informed. "I'll do the paperwork when we get finished. "Come on Doc, I need another twenty minutes at most. Surely you can see how important this is."

Saprestien cringed at the thought of being responsible for this man.

Steve misinterpreted the expression as being reluctant to help.

"Your transfer ought to be completed by the time he's well enough for prison. You'll never have to go back to Japan." Steve bargained. "You can start moving into your own jungle apartment today." He grinned. "Come on. Just a little something to keep him buzzed."

"Well." Saprestien resigned himself to the situation. "If he were in any pain, I could see my way to giving some Demerol. You know what that did for you."

"Deal." Steve stated and promptly punched Alexi in the stomach.

Garvin screamed.

"Shut up." McGarrett yelled in Russian. "This is not your concern." Steve then turned around to face a shocked Saprestien. "Is that enough for the Demerol or should I let Glen hit him too."

"You don't gotta ask me twice." Anderson said as he nearly leaped out of the wheelchair. The pain he felt as he stood on his injured leg served to anger him further as he slugged the Russian. "There Doc." Glen announced with a sadistic grin. "Now he's really hurting."

Steve gave Anderson a look of sympathy as he watched his friend gingerly return to his seat.

"Spaseeba Alexi!" Glen spat. "That felt good."

"OK OK." Saprestien interrupted. "Don't kill him. Give me a minute."

The physician left the room as Nurse Parker entered carrying a tray that contained several styrofoam coffee cups.

"Is he talking?" She asked excitedly and set the tray on the table beside the bed.

"I may have to change my opinion of you after all." Steve smiled as he picked up one of the cups and chugged the semi-warm contents. "He's been quite chatty."

On returning to his seat on the end of Alexi's bed Steve clipped his leg against the back wheel of Glen's chair. Alexi was unaware of the coffee landing on him.

"Woah." Glen exclaimed as he jerked on the back of Steve's belt.

Parker instinctively slid in between the bed and Anderson, grabbed hold of her patient and redirected his momentum onto the bed. Whew! She sighed to herself in relief. Incident report avoided.

"Steve?" Glen asked in concern.

"Yeah." He replied as he sat upright on the bed. "There's no way it could be broken. Half the bone's steel. It's not possible."

"I'll be the judge of what is and isn't possible." Doris stated as she knelt to push up his pant leg. "Oh geez." she whistled upon seeing the raised reddish discolored area that surrounded a tiny laceration. How could they miss THIS in the ER last night? She asked herself. "I wouldn't lay any money on that Commander. Doesn't it hurt?"

"I was too busy to think about it." Steve replied.

"The doctor'll be back in a minute." She promised. "He'll order an x-ray. Then we'll know for sure."

"Not until I'm finished with Alexi." Steve replied stoically as he pulled his right leg up and leaned forwards against his knee. "Mood he's in he'll probably make me run the whole way down there."

"I doubt that." She dismissed. "He was praying that the louse would die on the table."

"Really?" Steve raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Then how come he's busting my butt about the Demerol?"

"Little thing called The Hippocratic Oath. Same thing that'll make me take care of him. We don't have to like it. But" She grinned "No where in the Nightingale Pledge or the UCMJ does it say that I can't pull tape off if it's stuck to chest hair. And this one's a monkey. I foresee alot of dressing changes for him."

"Poor Alexi." Steve laughed. "You really are sadistic, you know that."

"Funny." She retorted with a stern glare though inwardly she smiled radiantly.

Doc returned to the room with a syringe and injected its contents into the IV tubing.

All in the room watched as the prisoner began to doze off from the Demerol.

"Alexi?" Steve whispered as he reapproached the prisoner. "Alexi....darling." He called softly.

The man moaned quietly.

"Alexi." McGarrett continued. "How are you going to transfer the information?"

The Soviet agent remained silent. It was uncertain if it was because of the drug or that he had decided not to speak any longer.

"Alexi, my comrade." Steve repeated as he firmly grasped the man's left upper arm. "This is serious. Alexi I'm afraid you may not make it. You must get your information across."

Alexi remained silent though, at the thought of dying, a small tear formed in his right eye.

"Tell me Comrade." Steve continued to press. "Tell me now and I will help you." He finished the sentence in Russian.

The prisoner stirred slightly but still did not respond to the question.

"Comrade! Tell me now!" Steve ordered and slapped the prisoner across the face. "Have you become one of those capitalistic pigs that you detest so much?"

"Dah...No..." The man protested. "I am loyal to the Rodina."

"Sure you are." Steve scoffed. "You have been seduced by the West."

"Bortzoff.' Garvin pleaded. "I must contact Bortzoff."

"Bortzoff?" Steve's eyes narrowed in concentration. The name sounded so familiar but he could not place where he had heard it. Who the hell's Bortzoff? Steve tried to force his memory.

"Oh my God." Steve leaped to his feet and almost collided with Glen's outstretched leg.

The commotion brought Saprestien out of his concentration.

"Hargrove..." Steve exhaled as he sat back down. "Foggarty. In my quarters there's a file from DC labeled Rustic....

The young ensign, eager to please, stood up from his seat in the window. "Sir?" He questioned.

"Rustic....Damn." McGarrett banged the end of the bed in frustration. "Why can't I remember the name. Three lousy words."

"Short term memory lapse." Doc reassured as he squeezed his way into the narrow space next to Steve on the edge of the bed. "Its part of the skull fracture. Calm down. Getting excited will only make it worse. There's no permanent brain damage."

"Winter." Steve stated. "Rustic Winter Moon."

"There." The MD replied as he slapped him on the leg. "Few months it'll go away."

"I hope so." Steve exclaimed.

With a half grin Saprestien stood up off the bed and returned to his position against the wall.

"Foggarty. In there there's a photograph of..." He hesitated as he tried to remember what it was he had wanted. Never mind, just bring me the whole file."

"Sir?" The ensign questioned. "Files are supposed to remain in the office."

In spite of the situation Steve had to laugh at the man's naivete.

"I tried to take one to The Garden." He continued. "Lieutenant Jenkins caught me."

"You gonna bust me Ensign?" McGarrett laughed as he held his hands out in front of himself. "If you can get the cuffs on, I'm yours."

Foggarty wisely ignored the challenge. "I just want to know how. That's all."

Anderson let out an amused laugh.

"One day I'll teach you." Steve promised. "It's either on my coffee table or in my briefcase. Maybe on the deck. Hurry up before the Demerol wears off."

Foggarty hastily left the room to complete his errand.

"Steve." Glen asked with a curious look on his face. "What's going on?"

"Dean Hargrove might not be as nuts as everyone thinks." Steve replied.

With Foggarty gone there was a lull in the room. McAdams took advantage of the opportunity and exchanged the nearly empty tape for a fresh reel. He carefully labeled the box from which it came and stacked it on top of the pile of used tapes.

Ten minutes later the chubby ensign ran into the room carrying a dark brown manila envelope. "Here Sir." He stated between gulps of air. "This it? On the kitchen counter."

Steve opened the envelope and extracted an eight by ten-inch black and white photograph. "Alexi." He called shaking the prisoner. "Time to wake up again."

The Russian moaned his protest.

"Comrade." He asked as he held the photo within inches of the man's face. "Is this him? The man you contact?"

"Dah." The prisoner acknowledged. "I must send him a yellow plumeria lei from The Flowershak on Berritanna......" He trailed off.

McGarrett shook the prisoner awake.

"He will meet in the bowling alley on Hotel Street. Sunday 1300. I do love this American game." He mumbled.

"He will know I am not you." Steve prompted. "What is the code phrase?"

"Comrade please..." The hyperventilating prisoner pleaded.

"Just this Alexi. Then we are finished." For now. He thought sadistically

"Wear a red shirt. Japanese beer and vodka.Tell him you are Peter from South of Minsk. You went to school together. Remind him he failed geometry."

"Go to sleep Alexi." McGarrett stated as he switched off the tape recorder and turned towards McAdams and Tomlich. "You two get all that?"

Ensign Tomlich looked up from his yellow notepad and nodded.

Steve wanted to pace the floor in order to clear his mind but the crowded room and the annoying discomfort in his left leg precluded such a luxury. He knew that except for Glen and Fitzsimmons the officers in his section were too inexperienced for a mission of this type, yet they deserved to be in on the capture. "By the end of watch tomorrow I want everything there is to know about both places. Pictures, diagrams, floorplans, the works. Bring in Jenkins." He snapped his fingers in concentration. "Foggarty you too. And tell Bill to call me when he gets a chance. Come up with a plan for taking this guy. Glen and I'll go over it when our friends get in. We've got a couple days yet to refine it."

A quiet moan from the prisoner caused Steve to glance over. "Oh. And set up the flower thing." He added. "Where's the psych ward from here?" Steve asked as he stood up from the bed.

"Second floor." Nurse Parker informed. "But it's a locked unit. Commander they won't let you in with out a good reason."

"I've got one." McGarrett argued. "I've got to tell Dean about Bortzoff."

"Steve?" Glen asked as he grabbed the back of Steve's shirt in order to get his attention. "You think that's a good idea?"

"We held on to less in The Cave." Steve reminded. "I lasted two weeks in the box on a promise that Roger'd let me win a chess match. Which of course he never did. This just might turn him around."

"You're right about that." An involuntary tremor surged through Glen at the thought of North Korea. "He'd never let me win either." Anderson adjusted himself in the seat of the chair. "Say hi to Dean for me."

"McAdams, loan me your keys." Steve asked.

Jerry set aside the tape reel he was labeling and tossed the lockpick kit from his pocket at Steve.

"Where do you think you are going?" Doc demanded.

"Visiting a friend." Steve retorted as he caught the flying object and shoved it into his back pocket. "Doc can you get in there?"

"The mental Health Unit?" Saprestien scoffed. "Fort Knox would be easier."

McGarrett shot the physician a warning glare.

"Steve." Saprestien explained. "They keep patients isolated for three weeks. No family, no friends. That's standard procedure."

The determined look on McGarrett's face told the MD that he was not convincing him of anything. "Come on. I'll take you down to X-ray myself." He promised. "You can even look at the films if you want."

"It'll wait. This is more important." McGarrett replied.

"If Nurse Parker is correct. And she seems the type to be." Doc reminded. "Then you won't get that far."

"Hey." Glen interceded. "Let him go. Last time he ran half way across North Korea on it."

"And how long did it take to heal then?" Doc challenged.

Both men glared daggers at the physician's interference.

When McGarrett turned towards the door Saprestien knew that nothing he could say would deter the man's actions. The only way Steve McGarrett would learn this lesson, like so many others, would be by falling on his face.

"Alright.' Saprestien surrendered. "But I'm going with you."

"What ever it takes." Steve retorted and exited through the door.

REturn to Index

On to Part 8