P. O. W. (25 page)

McDonald felt tears of extreme pride well up in his eyes. He stopped outside the door and rubbed away the tears; the last
thing he needed was to have Barnett see him crying like some pussy-assed baby.

A smile popped on Barnett’s face the instant he saw McDonald step through the door. “Hello, Sergeant McDonald!”

Spencer lay naked on the hospital bed, with only a sheet pulled up to his waist. McDonald could see the red welts covering
the soldier’s body and the thin ribs showing under his skin. Barnett was emaciated. Jungle ulcers covered half of his chest
and right arm.

McDonald swallowed hard. At least the boy was still alive, but from the way he looked, he wouldn’t have lasted another week
in that camp.

“Can’t you talk?” Barnett frowned.

Colonel Garibaldi lay with an IV in his arm, smiling at the three members of his rescue team. He nodded his head and weakly
whispered, “Thanks…”

McDonald’s eyes left Barnett and went to the colonel. He nodded his head, afraid to risk saying anything. There was too much
emotion ready to break loose inside of him.

“Sarge! Can’t you talk?” Barnett smiled.

McDonald took two quick steps and closed the distance between them. He reached over and hugged Barnett. “I couldn’t lose you,
kid.”

Barnett’s smile turned into a wide grin. “Look at this shit! This is disgusting! A
master sergeant
in the United States Army, hugging me!” Barnett loved it.

The other occupants in the room felt lumps creeping up in their throats. General Seacourt coughed and tried breaking the emotional
tension. “You could get court-martialed for that, Sergeant!”

Everyone started laughing and the tension broke. The tiger cub was being squashed and growled her anger.

“What was that?” Barnett looked down at McDonald’s jacket and saw the movement.

“A friend.” He removed the cub and set her down on Barnett’s sheet. She moved her head weakly from side to side. One of the
nurses who had been watching stepped forward and picked the cub up to check her eyes.

“She’s a preemie….”

“Yes… and so is her brother.” Arnason removed the male.

“Two!” A nurse who had just entered the room shook her head. “We’ve got an incubator in the back…”—she looked over at the
hospital commander, who was standing next to General Seacourt, and the doctor nodded his approval—”that we can use. That is,
if you want me to try and save them.”

Barnett looked hard at the nurse. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“No… I don’t think we’ve ever met…. My name is Natasha MacReal.”

“Oh… I thought we had met…. You’re a good-looking woman….” Barnett smiled.

“Well, I can see he’s getting better already!” The doctor frowned and waved a finger at the young soldier as the nurse left
the room carrying a wiggling tiger cub under each arm.

Barnett turned his attention back to his teammates. “What are you going to name them?”

Arnason shook his head slowly and then spoke. “How about… Barnett? We’re going to build a cage in front of the recon company’s
orderly room for him.”

“Cool!” Barnett liked the idea. “What about the female?” He looked at McDonald.

“I’ve already decided on a real good name… Spencer.”

“Spencer!”
Bamett feigned outrage and raised himself on one elbow. “Sarge! You ain’t going to name no damn
female
Spencer!”

McDonald looked back at the men in the room. “It has a good ring to it… Spencer… doesn’t it?”

The occupants all nodded their heads in agreement.

“Then Spencer it is!”

“Come on, Sarge! Give me a break!”

Arnason laid his hand on McDonald’s shoulder. “You know, that
does
have a good sound to it. If the cubs are ever visiting each other, you can say,
’Spencer Barnett!’
and they’ll both come to you.”

“I really can’t believe all of this shit!” Barnett loved all the attention he was getting. He dropped his head back down on
the pillow and looked up at the ceiling. The tears bubbled up out of his eyes. “I can’t believe this shit….” The emotional
dam broke.

The doctor nodded his head toward the door, letting the visitors know that it was time for them to leave.

“Spencer…” Brigadier General Seacourt removed the CAR-15 submachine gun he had been carrying over his shoulder. The familiar
weapon hadn’t drawn any attention until then. “Lieutenant Reed asked me if I would drop this off with you…. He said that it
was yours.” The general had no idea what the weapon meant to Barnett. “He said that you might want it back.”

Barnett blinked his eyes and saw his weapon in the general’s hand. “Tell… tell the lieutenant… thanks a lot.” He had barely
spoken the last word when his throat refused to allow any more words to pass. He buried his face in his pillow and sobbed
quietly.

Colonel Garibaldi rubbed the small bamboo cross that he had brought with him out of A Rum and watched the soldiers leave.
He had never lost faith.

They were free.

Dear Mom and Dad,

Sorry I haven’t written for so long, but when the Army decides to make you busy, there’s not much time for anything else.

It’s a real sense of accomplishment when a group of guys can pull together and make something really work. (Sorry I can’t
go into details, but you know how things are with military security and all.) It gives you a sense of pride like you really
matter.

Thanks for the cookies. I shared them with Spencer Barnett. I’m real glad he’s back with our outfit again.

Love
,

Barnett is seventeen, a corporal, and a P.O.W. in the hands of a savage NVA commander—along with an Air Force colonel and
a traitorous G.I. who gets off on torturing fellow American prisoners. From Saigon to Washington the reports have been passed
back and forth of the living hell in Laos—and of the need for the most dangerous kind of mission of the war. But for a prisoner
snatch to succeed, Special Forces must strike with maximum preparation, firepower, and surprise—and time is running out. For
Barnett to stay alive long enough to be freed will take more courage than a man should ever need…

From the heartland of America to the heart of war, they were the friends, the enemies, and the true heroes of the place called
“NAM.”

P.O.W.
SURVIVOR OF NAM #2