I stayed with Raymond several hours, just sitting with him and talking quietly. A nurse came in that evening, and gave me a kind of amused frown. "Goodness, are you still here?"

"Still here, ma'am."

"Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to go. We'll be bringing his dinner in a few minutes, then he has a sponge bath, and bed. He'll need plenty of rest if he's going to recuperate."

"Okay. I'll go in a few minutes." As she started out I said, "Ma'am?" She paused. "Do you know where the rest of the cards are?"

She looked perplexed. "Cards?"

I picked up the queen of diamonds. "There's just one here. Did the last patient take the deck home and miss this one?"

"I suppose he must have. I can get Mr. Shaw a fresh deck if he likes, but there'll be no time to play tonight." She held out her hand. "Here. I'll get rid of that for you."

I turned the card in my fingers, tucking it in my palm. "No, that's okay. I'll take care of it."

She hesitated, then pointed. "There's a wastebasket right beside you."

"I noticed." She waited for another few seconds. I didn't move to throw the card away, and she finally left. I think she was irritated. "Ray..." He was staring at the card. "Ray?"

"Yes?" His voice was dreamy. He'd been so alert a moment ago, and now his eyes were vague. I was starting to get worried.

"I have to go now, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"Yes. That would be good."

I stood, and touched his shoulder. "Are you sure you're all right?"

He blinked a little, and seemed to come back from wherever he'd been. "I'm fine, baby boy. The thing that hurts the worst is my dignity. C'mere." He wound a hand in my shirt and pulled me down, kissing me.

I hugged him, kissed him back, and went out into the hall. I went down to the nurse's desk. A nurse, a different one from the one who'd come in the room, looked up from a chart. "Yes?"

"I need to speak to Mr. Shaw's doctor, the Chinese gentleman."

She frowned. "We have no Chinese doctors on staff, sir."

"I talked to him in Ray's room. Him and another doctor with dark hair."

She consulted some papers. "Mr. Shaw's doctor is Doctor Bradley, but he has gray hair."

"Look, ma'am, all I know is that there was a Chinese doctor and another one in Ray's room, and I want to talk to one of them, because I'm worried about him. He's kind of spacing out now and then, and I'm afraid that he might have a head injury they didn't catch."

The first nurse had come up to the desk as the other one said, "Sir, I'm sure your friend was thoroughly checked over, and once again, we have no oriental staff at this..."

"Oh, he means Dr. Yen Lo," interrupted the nurse who'd come to roust me. "Dr. Yen Lo isn't on staff--he's only visiting, and he asked to see Mr. Shaw, to see how our hospitals handle emergencies."

I stared at her. That seemed like a pretty thin excuse to me. I figured that if any foreign doctor wanted to check on American emergency procedures they'd be down in the emergency room, not examining a patient who had already been stabilized and admitted. "I don't care if he owns the hospital or is someone's visiting relative. Tell whoever is in charge of Ray that they need to check to see if he has a concussion, because he's acting funny. It might even be something that started before the accident and was aggravated. He's sort of gone off in his own little world before."

The nurse's smile was a little cool, and I thought that right then she didn't really look like someone who'd dedicated herself to caring for others. "I'll be sure to tell the doctor on duty immediately, and we'll keep a close watch on him. Now, I'll have to ask you to leave. Visiting hours are over."

I was tempted to tell her that I was going to wait right there till I was sure that Ray had been checked over again, but a big guy in a security guard uniform came up behind her, and he was watching me real close. I decided that I wouldn't be able to see Ray at all if I ended up in jail for disturbing the peace, so I went ahead and left.

Back at the Islen house, I knocked on the door. I didn't have a key, of course. Ray had offered to get me one, but I'd turned it down. It wasn't his house, and I didn't feel at home in it, so I didn't want a key. I waited for Jessie to answer the door--I sure didn't figure either of the Islen's would stoop to answer their own front door.

An oriental man opened the door. He wore the sort of white jacket I'd seen waiters wearing when they served in the officer's mess at some of the bigger army camps. "Yes, please?"

"Uh..." I checked the address again. No, I was at the right place.

He frowned at me. "The Islens are not home now." He started to close the door.

"Wait! I stay here. I'm their son's friend."

"They are not home. Mister Shaw is in hospital. You come back tomorrow, please." He started to shut the door.

"But..."

The door was almost closed. Another hand caught the door, fingers curling around the edge, stopping it. The door was pulled open again. My stomach dropped right down to my shoes.

Samuel Flagg stood beside the man, smiling at me. "Chunjin, this is Walter O'Reilly. You remember, I told you about him. Of course he can come in."

I took a step backwards, not daring to look away from him. I wondered if I'd be able to run fast enough to get away from Flagg if he decided to chase me.

"Samuel, who is it?" I heard the voice of Ray's mother, somewhere farther back in the hall. So much for the Islens being out.

Flagg raised his voice, but he didn't take his eyes off me. "It's your house guest, O'Reilly, ma'am." His normally colorless voice held a hint of dark amusement. "He's trying to decide whether or not to come in."

"Well, gracious, Walter." There was the tap of high heels, and Mrs. Iselin appeared beside Flagg. "For goodness sake, come inside. We don't want to just leave the door standing open like that." Without waiting for my response, just assuming that I'd obey, like everyone else in her life, she turned and went back into the house.

Every instinct I had was telling me to run as fast and as far as I could, but...

"Where would you go, O'Reilly?" Flagg's voice was soft.

He was right. The only place I could go was back to the hospital, and I couldn't risk having him follow me back there--back to Ray. "You stand back."

He studied me, then stepped back, bowing ironically. "Give way, Chunjin. Corporal O'Reilly is a bit skittish of being touched." His smile was nasty. "By most people, anyway."

What could I do? I figured with the Iselins there he wouldn't dare do anything. I stepped inside, edging carefully so that I didn't touch him, and the oriental guy, Chunjin, shut the door. I was thinking that I should run up to my room and lock myself in. I guess Flagg knew the way my mind worked pretty good, because he moved, all casual like, and put himself between me and the stairs.

I was almost ready to go for the front door again when Jessie came out of the kitchen and hurried toward me, her expression anxious. "Walter, how is he?"

I was relieved, feeling a little safer with her there. I patted her shoulder. "She's okay, Jessie. He got a bump on his head, and his leg was hurt some, but he's okay. Shouldn't be there more'n a week or two." I frowned. "That bump on the head kinda worries me, though. He acts kind of vague sometimes."

"It's so touching to see your concern, O'Reilly," said Flagg blandly.

Chunjin walked past us, heading for the kitchen, and Jessie frowned after him. She whispered, "They brought him in after you left. They say he's a houseboy, and he's here to take some of the work off my hands." She snorted. "They sure did get concerned for my well-being awful suddenly."

"But who is he?"

"I listened to them talking. I guess he has good references. He was Raymond's interpreter in Korea. Ray saved him, along with the others." I stared after the man. So, he'd been with Ray during his three days of captivity. I wondered if I'd be able to find out from him anything about what had happened.

Mrs. Iselin appeared in the living room archway, a cigarette in one hand and a cocktail in the other. "Walter, dear, don't stand about in the hallway talking to the help--it's common. Come in. I want to hear about your visit to Raymond."

I didn't particularly feel like visiting with her and the senator, but I figured that the more people I had around me, the better, so I went into the living room. He followed me, damn it.

Mrs. Iselin was sitting on the couch, and she patted the cushion next to her. "Come sit by me."

I didn't really want to sit next to her, I mean, I try to be polite, s'pecially to ladies, and extra s'pecially to ladies who are old enough to be my mother, but I just didn't LIKE her. But Senator Iselin occupied the only chair that wasn't halfway across the room, so I sat next to her.

"Samuel, I'll have another of these please," she said, handing her glass to Flagg. As he went to the bar she said, "Usually I only allow myself once, but we're at home tonight, so I don't have to worry about the sharp little eyes of John's constituents. So, Walter, how is Raymond?"

"He's not too bad--kinda banged up. There shouldn't be anything permanent, like a limp or a scar."

"Wonderful! That would have been a dreadful shame. Ray is such a handsome young man." I stared at her. I think she realized that I was thinking that she was acting kind of casual about her only child having such a close brush with death. She spread her hand over her breast, and her expression got... Well, it was too much, you know? She went from mildly interested to tragic. "I was so frightened when I heard what had happened. Oh, my poor little boy!"

"You do know where they took him, right?"

"Yes, of course--the Timothy Swardon sanitarium."

"Oh. I thought maybe you hadn't been told--since I didn't meet you up there."

She stared at me. I stared back. She knew what I was saying. I was remarking on the fact that she had known where her son was, laid up after a serious accident, and she hadn't yet bothered to visit him.

She was trying to decide what to say to me. I got the feeling that this wasn't something that happened to her often--being at a loss for words. Flagg came back and handed her the drink. She turned it in her hands, still watching me, then said, "I'll be going to see Ray tomorrow. God, I wanted to fly to him as soon as I knew what had happened, but they didn't notify us until after the dinner. Then John had committed himself to speaking to a PTA group, and Ray wouldn't have wanted them to be disappointed, and besides, visiting hours were almost over."

"Yeah. It's tough like that." She frowned, but I wasn't impressed. I was just thinking of how Mom would have acted if I'd ever been hit by a car and laid up in the hospital. She would have knocked grown men down to get to me as fast as she could, and nothing would have kept her away--not visiting hours, dragon-lady head nurses, or President Eisenhower himself. Though I guess she'd apologize and explain to Ike why she couldn't accommodate him.

Flagg sat down on my other side. I stopped breathing for a second. I think maybe my heart stopped, too.

I froze. He laid his arm casually along the back of the sofa, behind me. I stayed so still that you might've thought there was a snake lying on the couch behind me, as careful as I was not to lean the least little bit back, within striking distance.

"So, shall I put the hospital on your itinerary for tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yes. And make it early, Samuel so we don't tire Raymond too badly." She drained her drink, setting aside the glass. "Well, I suppose we ought to go on to bed."

John Iselin looked like a chubby kid who'd been given some bad news. "But Eleanor, I was planning on watching a program on television tonight."

She stood up. "You know very well that you get shadows under your eyes when you stay up late, John, and the cameras are merciless." She started out of the room, not bothering to look back. She was confident he would follow her--and he did.

I listened to the sound of their footsteps on the stairs. I didn't look at Flagg. I stared straight ahead, but I could sort of see him as a bulk at the edge of my vision. I could feel him, too. You know how you can sometimes when you're in the dark; you just know that you're about to step into a hole or trip over something. You just know that there's something nasty waiting to happen, nearby.

As soon as their footsteps faded, and I was pretty sure they were in their room, I moved. I TRIED to move. I was coiled like a spring, ready to jump. Before I could, though, Flagg's hand came down on my shoulder, hard.

I didn't scream. I almost did. I wanted to, but I didn't. Instead, I said, "Get your fucking hand off me." I was kind of proud of the fact that my voice didn't shake.

"Language, language. I'll let go if you promise not to run."

I finally looked at him, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "Let--go."

"Listen to me. I'm not going to do anything to you, and we need to talk. I know you don't want to spend another second with me, but maybe you should consider what all this means to your boyfriend."

Oh, God. I didn't slump, but I forced a little of the tension from my body, and nodded, my head jerking sharply. Flagg released me, his hand hovering over me till he was certain that I wasn't going to bolt. "Good boy. I always knew you were sensible, O'Reilly."

"Say what you're going to say."

"Tsk, tsk. Such a hostile attitude to someone you've been so intimate with." I jerked around, glaring at him, my hands balled into fists so tight that my knuckles creaked. But I didn't do any more. If I attacked him, and the Iselin's found out, I wouldn't be able to explain it to them. He didn't laugh. If he had, I might not have been able to stop myself, but he didn't. He did smile, though. "No need to be so touchy."

He leaned back and folded his hands over his belly. "I'm going to assume that you haven't told Ray about our little encounter back at the MASH. I think that if you had, either he or I would be dead right now." I didn't answer. I didn't have to--he knew he was right. "Have you told anyone else?"

"No. Not your name, anyway. But there are a couple of people who've probably figured it out for themselves. The doctors weren't as dumb as you seemed to think they were."

"Mm." He looked thoughtful. "That's not good, but it's not disastrous. No matter what they suspect, they can't prove anything. Especially if you won't speak up, and you won't, will you, boy?"

I looked away from him, gritting my teeth. "Stay away from Ray."

"I won't be around him any more than I have to while dancing attendance on the Iselins. You don't have to worry about me hurting a hair on his handsome head, O'Reilly. He's a very important man, is Raymond Shaw. Many people are counting on him, and we have to have him healthy."

I stood up. "Are you through now? I want to go wash my hands. I feel like I've touched something dirty."

I would have expected those pale yellow eyes to be chilly, but they were suddenly hot, like liquid gilt. Before I could step away he'd grabbed my pants leg. "You saw the rough side of me, O'Reilly. It didn't have to be like that, but it was your choice. You have a choice now. I'm going to be a big man, soon. I could give you as much as Shaw, even more."

His hand was sliding around toward my inner thigh. I slapped his hand down, jerking away so hard that I stumbled. I was shaking, and I almost fell, but I caught myself. I didn't want to go down in front of him. Any show of vulnerability was dangerous with Flagg. I knew what I was about to say was clichéd and probably sounded stupid, but it was what I felt. "I'd rather die," I whispered.

He stood up slowly, his hands flexing at his side. His voice was soft. "Do you think that would stop me?"

The most horrible thing was... he sounded perfectly believable.

I ran. I ran faster than I had when the choppers came over the hills at the MASH, faster than I had when our old bull had surprised me walking across the pasture. I made it to my room without Flagg pursuing, and I locked myself in before I collapsed on the bed, shaking uncontrollably. But my shoulder had slammed into Chunjin, the new houseboy, as he was coming into the room, knocking him against a wall. I had heard him cursing in some foreign language as I pounded up the hall. I didn't recognize it. Later on, I would wonder why he didn't speak Korean.

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