ment and strode
from the room. Andy could hear her crisp instructions to the girls on
the phones. Sucking air through his teeth, he reached for his phone
and directory.

He dialed until every finger of his right hand was sore. He spoke to
worried doctors and frantic hospital administrators and hysterical
nurses. His firm, fine penmanship deteriorated to a barely legible
scrawl as writer's cramp knotted his hand and arm. His voice burned
down to a rasping whisper. But columns climbed up his rough chart and
broken lines pointed vaguely to trends.

* * * * *

It was hours later when Bettijean came back into the office with
another stack of papers. Andy hung up his phone and reached for a
cigarette. At that moment the door banged open. Nerves raw, Bettijean
cried out. Andy's cigarette tumbled from his trembling fingers.

"Sergeant," the chicken colonel barked, parading into the office.

Andy swore under his breath and eyed the two young officers who
trailed after the colonel. Emotionally exhausted, he had to clamp his
jaw against a huge laugh that struggled up in his throat. For just an
instant there, the colonel had reminded him of a movie version of
General Rommel strutting up and down before his tanks. But it wasn't a
swagger stick the colonel had tucked under his arm. It was a folded
newspaper. Opening it, the colonel flung it down on Andy's desk.

"RED PLAGUE SWEEPS NATION," the scare headline screamed. Andy's first
glance caught such phrases as "alleged Russian plot" and "germ
warfare" and "authorities hopelessly baffled."

Snatching the paper, Andy balled it and hurled it from him. "That'll
help a lot," he growled hoarsely.

"Well, then, Sergeant." The colonel tried to relax his square face,
but tension rode every weathered wrinkle and fear glinted behind the
pale gray eyes. "So you finally recognize the gravity of the
situation."

Andy's head snapped up, heated words searing towards his lips.
Bettijean stepped quickly around the desk and laid a steady hand on
his shoulder.

"Colonel," she said levelly, "you should know better than that."

A shocked young captain exploded, "Corporal. Maybe you'd better report
to--"

"All right," Andy said sharply.

For a long moment he stared at his clenched fists. Then he exhaled
slowly and, to the colonel, flatly and without apology, he said,
"You'll have to excuse the people in this office if they overlook some
of the G.I. niceties.