Susan Jennings
© Morgan 1988, 1998, 2001; All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 1
	Susan Jennings didn’t know what to do when she regained her senses.  She was now, she assumed, a prisoner of war.  She was in a POW camp, but she didn’t see any of her medical detail there with her.  Sue had no idea how long she had been there.  The last thing she remembered was an explosion in the OR — the hospital’s Operating Room — and then everything collapsed around her head.  She wandered around the compound inside the barbed wire trying to get oriented.  Other women seemed to be bartering their clothing, but she couldn’t figure out what they were getting in return.
	It was terribly hot.  On the other hand it was always hot in Vietnam.  Eavesdropping on a transaction she found that the girl was bartering for food.  Susan had never paid a great deal of attention to the very occasional lectures on prisoners’ rights and obligations.  After all, as a nurse she was a noncombatant.  Of what earthly good could such information possibly do her?  Now she was finding out.
	Feeling a little dizzy, she touched her scalp and discovered why.  There was a lot of dried blood and what felt like a nasty laceration on the back of her scalp.  The girl she had been watching completed her transaction and Susan asked her about it.  The girl had taken off her bra, then put her shirt back on.  She explained that there was only a tiny amount of rice given to the prisoners each day.  Since she had been imprisoned for nearly three months, her bra was hanging on her now-flattened chest so it didn’t make any difference to her anyway.  And it more or less guaranteed a full rice ration for the next thirty days.
	Then Susan asked about later — after the thirty days.  The girl pointed to a couple of girls on the other side of the compound.  One was naked to the waist retaining only her skirt.  Others were completely naked.
	“What do they do?” Susan asked.  “The ones with no clothes, I mean.”
	“They have a very stark choice.  They either trade their bodies or they go without.  And if they go without for too long, they have no bodies to trade with,” the girl replied.  She pointed out an emaciated girl crouched in the far corner of the compound.  “I think she’s been here for over a year.  She decided she wouldn’t sell her body and now it’s too late.”
	Susan looked around and saw a guard watching her hungrily.  With her golden-blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes, she was a true beauty.  Going up to the guard, she started to talk with him about rice.  When she asked what her bra would be worth he replied that for her it would be a triple ration for two months.  Susan accepted his offer on the spot.  When he told her that she would have to take it off right there, she unbuttoned her uniform shirt, hung it over the wire and then took off her bra.  At the sight of her full, firm breasts, the guard almost climbed through the fence.
	Before giving him her bra she asked him how and when she would get her extra food.  After looking both ways the guard said she could have some right away.  Taking her bra, he gave her a handful of ration bars.  Susan immediately recognized them as being from Red Cross parcels that should have been given to the prisoners in the first place.
	Taking the ration bars, she realized that the guard had been a good-enough sort; there were eight of them.  Making her way across the compound, she went up to the starving girl who had been pointed out to her.  When she got closer, she saw that the girl was a human skeleton.  Jennings doubted that she weighed even seventy-five pounds.  The girl was hunkered down with her head resting on her knees.
	“Hi!  I’m Sue Jennings.  Who are you?” she asked.
	The girl looked up with a very vague, unfocussed look in her eyes.  Susan realized with a shock that the girl was dangerously close to death.  Then her green eyes focused and remarkably she even tried to smile.  “Hi, Susan.  I’m Ginny Cameron.  I would shake hands, but I’m not sure I can even get up.”
	Ginny’s body was the color of mahogany from being bare in the tropic sun for so long.  Putting the girl’s arm over her shoulder, Susan helped her over to the side of one of the huts.  Because of the time of year and Vietnam’s closeness to the Equator, the sun was now almost directly overhead, but she found a little strip of shade under the hut’s roof overhang.  After gently easing Ginny Cameron down, Susan sat down beside her.
	“Ginny, you’ve got to eat something!  You’ve really carried this diet thing too far already,” she said with a bright smile.
	Ginny Cameron remarkably still retained a sense of humor.  “I don’t know...  Sue, is it...?  I think I can still spare another pound or two.”
	Susan almost cried.  The girl’s breasts had completely disappeared and her ribs were so prominent she could count them just by looking.  Even her thighs were now not much larger than the femur bone itself.  Remembering what she knew about dieting and starvation, Susan remembered that the body first uses its fat and then breaks down and burns muscle tissue.  Clearly this is what was happening to Ginny.  And there wasn’t any muscle left.
	Smiling at Ginny she said, “I brought you a gift.”  Carefully unwrapping one of the nutrition bars, she offered it to the girl.
	Ginny just looked at it without comprehension.  Finally she said, “Are you giving this to me?  Sue, I can’t take it.  You just don’t know what you’re doing.  I made a choice and I guess it was a stupid choice.  So now I’ll die of it.”
	Ignoring the girl’s words, Jennings broke off a small piece of the very rich nutrition bar and put it between Ginny’s lips.  The girl just let it melt in her mouth.  As she did a near-rapturous expression appeared on her face.  Susan just continued feeding the starving girl small morsels until the bar was gone.  Only then did Susan notice that Ginny’s eyes were flowing with tears.
	“Sue,” the girl asked, “why are you doing this?  You know it’s too late, don’t you?  I’ve only got a few hours left and I guess I was almost looking forward to the release.”  Trying to smile, she continued, “Starvation is a hell of a way to die, though.  But isn’t there anything I can do for you?”
	Smiling warmly at the girl Susan replied, “Yes, there is!  Ginny, please keep fighting.  You were a beautiful girl before and you will be one again.  Please?  Try to hang on?”
	Virginia Cameron slowly nodded her head.
* * *
	Over the next weeks and months Susan developed an abiding hatred for three people, all Americans: Homer Black, Colonel, U.S. Army Medical Corps, Charles Simon, Major, USA MC, and Judith Harrison, Captain, U.S. Army Nurse Corps.  They were always well dressed, clearly well fed and housed outside the compound.  She asked Ginny Cameron about them one day.  Ginny by now had actually gained a couple of pounds and now could even move around a little.
	When Susan approached her, the girl smiled and asked, “How’s the camp lifeguard today?”  Then she frowned, shook her head and asked, “Susan, what are you trying to do?  I heard about the episode with the guards and the male prisoners.  What was that all about?”
	Susan rubbed her crotch remembering how she had taken thirty guards one after the other in order to try to save the lives of some of the men who were dying for lack of medicine.  Susan was the only operational nurse — or medical person — inside the compound.  Black, Simon and Harrison did nothing.  Susan had traded her body for units of antibiotics and she still felt unclean.  Now she was only wearing her shirt.  All of her other garments had been traded for food and medicine which she had used for other prisoners.
	After quickly telling Ginny about her experience she concluded by saying, “It really wasn’t too bad.  I have a pretty liquid cunt which lubricated their entry pretty well.  I’m all right.”
	Looking at Susan, Ginny unbuttoned her shirt.  By now Susan’s tits had completely disappeared and her skin was almost as deep a shade of mahogany as Ginny’s.  “What are you doing, Sue?” she demanded.  “I know you get enough food to keep yourself fit.  But I think you’re losing weight even faster than I did.  You’re giving it all away, aren’t you?”
	Susan only shrugged but did not reply.  Instead she asked, “Ginny, what’s with Black and company?  Why do they live so well?”
	“It’s the shame of the camp,” Ginny replied with a grimace.  “I think they sign off for all the Red Cross parcels and the rest of that stuff, certifying that everything’s fine here in the camp.  In return they get whatever they want.”  Then she frowned at Susan and continued, “Incidentally, I hear they hate your guts.  Sue, you’re a threat to them, and they’ll get you if they can.”
	Susan looked at Ginny Cameron and realized she was truly a beautiful woman.  Before she had not realized how glorious Ginny’s hair was — a beautiful shade of auburn.  She said so and Ginny gave her a skeletal smile.
	“You’re changing the subject,” she accused.  Looking at Susan carefully she added, “Susan Jennings, I want to swear a solemn oath to you.  If I get out of here alive, I want you to know I will do anything — anything — for you that it is ever in my power to do.  I owe you my life.  You know it, Sue.  I just want you to know that I know it, too.”
	Over the previous days they had noticed that the guards had been increasingly nervous.  Since the prisoners received no news of any kind they couldn’t identify the source of the nervousness.  Just then a guard came along cracking a whip and ordered all the prisoners to assemble in the center of the compound.
	Susan started to help Ginny to her feet but the guard pushed her away.  Ginny almost made it to her feet but failed, falling back to the ground.  The guard stood over the prostrate girl and held out both of this hands with all his fingers extended.  Ginny was going to receive ten lashes with the bullwhip.
	Knowing it would kill the girl, Susan stripped off her shirt and covered Ginny with her own body.  The whip came down across her five times.  Each stroke felt like a white-hot wire cutting into her back.  After five lashes the guard made a rolling motion with his hands.  Susan rolled over and bridged her body over the fallen girl.  Again the lash came down, this time across her breasts, belly and loins.  When the whipping was finished, Susan rolled off the red-haired girl and just lay bleeding in the dirt.
	Then the guard commander came up and pointed to her.  Looking up she saw that a cross had been erected and it was obviously for her.  Swallowing hard, Susan gave Ginny a quick thumbs-up sign.  Then she threw her her shirt and said with a little grin, “It doesn’t look like I’ll be needing this anymore.”
	Susan accompanied the guards to the cross where she was quickly tied by her wrists to the crosspiece and left to bake in the bright sun.  A guard was posted at the base of the cross to keep other prisoners from helping her in any way.  Soon the pain in her shoulders became unbearable and she had difficulty breathing.  After hanging there throughout the day, by late afternoon she was in a terminal stupor, very close to death.
	Sounds of gunfire and nearby explosions partially roused her.  Moments later American troops swept through the compound, routing the guards who had already retreated into the surrounding jungle.  Susan tried to raise her head which had been lolling against her chest.  She could see helicopter transports supported by gunships land and begin the evacuation of the liberated prisoners.
	When she felt strong arms holding her, she was just slumped against her bonds unable to move.  An American was holding her while he reached and slashed the ropes holding her to the cross.  By the time he got her down the last wave of assault troops was loading up.  Ordering his men to run for it, he said something cryptic to them about “the supply point.”
	Rick Jackson was a major in the U.S. Marine Corps and was in command of the rescue mission.  Watching the last of his men mount up, he glanced at the girl in his arms and was shocked at her condition.  As the last of the helicopters lifted off, he picked the girl up and moved back the way his troops had come in, climbing one of the very rare hills in that part of Vietnam.  Meanwhile, several gunships stayed close to the camp to discourage pursuit.
	As he moved up the slope he felt a sharp sting in his left thigh.  Although he fell, he was able to keep his body between the girl and the ground.  Recovering, he put her over his right shoulder in a fireman’s carry and, using his weapon as a crutch, made his way to the supply cave they had used earlier.
	Rick hoped the shot had been a lucky one.  Since he had not heard the sound of the shot, he assumed it was a stray bullet and he had just been unlucky — at least he hoped so.  If he and the girl had been observed entering the cave it was all over.  He knew the North Vietnamese had been driven back into the jungle but had not been seriously hurt.
	Putting the girl down on the floor of the cave, he limped towards the rear where large piles of supplies were stacked.  Locating the first-aid kit, he put it on the ground.  After using his combat knife to slit his fatigues near the wound site, he poured antibiotic powder on it and tied a bandage over it.  Remarkably, the wound had not bled much.
	Completing the first aid, he looked through the supplies and found several things he was looking for.  After first spreading a ground cloth and then a blanket, he picked up the girl and placed her on it.  After pouring antibiotic powder on the vicious cuts, he put antiseptic ointment over each one.  Although he couldn’t be sure, it seemed that the cuts had been made by a whip.
	As he moved the girl, he was astonished at how thin and light she was.  Carrying her — even up the hill after he had been wounded — had been no trouble at all.  Finally, he thought to do something he probably should have done much earlier.  Opening his canteen he gently poured a small amount of water into her mouth.
	She gagged, sputtered, but then swallowed.  Then he heard her voice for the first time, very faint and rasping, say, “More, please...”
	With her eyes now open, he found himself looking into the most vivid blue eyes he had ever seen.  Gently holding her head he trickled more water into her mouth.  Looking around the cave he spied a fatigue jacket which he grabbed and wrapped around her.  She almost drowned in it.  After putting down the canteen he opened a ration bar.  Then he did for her what she had done for Ginny: He broke off small pieces and put them in her mouth.  The first few she merely allowed to melt.  Then as she started to become more aware, she slowly began to chew.
	Rick found he liked holding this battered girl in his arms as she methodically chewed on the food.  When he saw her jaws stop working, he had managed to get nearly two full bars of the concentrate into her.  Since she had fallen asleep, he gathered her into his arms, drew her into a sleeping bag with him and then held her as she slept.
	That night one of the more-or-less regular torrential tropic rainstorms lashed the surrounding jungle.  Hearing it Rick breathed a prayer of thanks hoping the rain would wash away any tracks they might have left during their escape earlier in the day.  Eventually he, too, fell into a deep sleep.
	When he awakened he found himself looking into those blue eyes again.  Her head was resting on his shoulder, and he was startled to realize that his hand had entered the unbuttoned fatigue jacket and was over her breast — or where her breast should have been.  It was right on top of the worst of the lacerations across her chest.
	When he yanked his hand away as if it were on a hot stove, she smiled weakly and said in a stronger, but still very husky whisper, “Please don’t.  Please put your hand back where it was.  It felt so good.”
	Gently he moved his hand back to where it had been.  Seeing her eyes close he went back to sleep, too.  Later he was awakened by her movements as she tried to reach their food supply without disturbing him.  When she realized he was awake, she grinned, scrambled for a supply of food, and brought it back to within easy reach.  In spite of being in the jungle, Rick realized that the dampness coupled with the cool ground temperature made it feel chilly inside the cave.  The sleeping bag felt good.
	When she clambered back into the bag, he caught a glimpse of a shrunken and lacerated buttock.  As he watched, she very carefully unwrapped a ration bar.  Only then did he realize he was watching the movements of a person who was used to eating the tiniest sliver of food.  Carefully she fed the bar to him in the same way he had fed her the previous day.  Only after he finished his did she open one for herself.  Then she repeated the process with a second and then a third.  Finally she zipped up the side of the bag, carefully positioned his hand on her chest and went back to sleep.
	They spent the entire second day together in the sleeping bag just eating and sleeping.  When Rick awakened late in the day he was startled.  Susan was out of the bag, had located a tarp and draped it over the cave entrance to try to make it light-tight.  Having also lighted a small gasoline lantern she was inspecting his leg.  Only then did Rick realize he was feverish from the bullet wound.
	Susan had found a much larger first-aid kit which was now lying open on the cave floor.  She was hunkered down going through its contents when she felt his eyes on her.
	Looking up at him she smiled warmly and asked, “How do you feel?”  Then she came over to him with her pitifully emaciated hand outstretched and added, “My name is Susan Jennings.  Thank you for saving my life.”
	Rick took the hand and was astonished at the strength in the grip of a hand that was almost skeletal.  “Hi, Susan.  I’m Richard Jackson, but everyone calls me Rick.  Major, United States Marine Corps.  I’m afraid I screwed up, Sue...  Is Sue all right, or do you prefer Susan?”
	“Sue is fine,” she replied with a warm smile.
	Then pretending to glare at him she demanded, “What do you mean, screwed up?  The last thing I remember, I was playing the Christ rôle in an Easter Pageant, and we had just come to the crucifixion scene.  I thought it was the end of the play.  Now I’m warm, cozy and loved.”
	Her face fell on the last word.  “I’m sorry, Rick.  I didn’t mean that.  Anyway, I’m about to fix you up.  I was just taking inventory.  Although I’m certainly not a surgeon, I’m afraid I will have to operate to remove the bullet.  If I don’t, there’s some risk you could lose the leg.  I think I can do it, but you can see I have been in better shape in my life.  It’s your leg, though, and it’s your choice.  Do you want me to try?”
	He smiled to try to take the sting out of what he was about to say.  “Aside from being Susan Jennings, a girl with the most beautiful blue eyes in the world, who are you?”
	Susan was on her knees on the floor of the cave.  Although she tried to jump to attention, she couldn’t make it.  She made a little face and knelt up straight, though, saluting as she had been taught to do at Newport.  “Major, Susan Jennings, Lieutenant, U.S. Navy Nurse Corps, certified as an OR specialist.  Do I have your permission to operate, sir?”
	Rick’s heart flipped.  Never had he met a braver person than this.  “Go to it, Doctor Jennings,” he replied with a smile.  “You’ll make it.  Now what do you want me to do?”
	Susan returned his smile.  “First, try to figure out the most comfortable position for your leg.  I found some morphine ampules, so I won’t have to be probing with you screaming in my ear.”
	She had all her materials and he watched in amazement as she carefully cut away his pants leg and then very gently removed the battle dressing that was still in place.  Rick was surprised at the tenderness of her touch.  Taking an ampule, she fitted a needle and injected his leg above the wound site.  Then she went for more food for both of them, while she gave the morphine time to work.  In moments they were companionably eating their nutrition bars.
	When she finished, she carefully scrubbed, then put her hands into surgical gloves.  Even though the gloves were highly stretchable rubber, her fingers had lost so much flesh they were loose in places.  Then she carefully and painstakingly scrubbed the area surrounding the wound.  She had even found a surgical mask to put across her face and Rick admired how deftly she had tied it into position.
	Looking at him she asked, “Are you ready?”  Rick  just nodded.
	Carefully, Susan used a probe to track down the bullet hole while feeling for the slug.  He had briefly told her how he had been hit, so she was not surprised when she reached the bullet just below the skin.  As he had hoped, it had been a spent bullet striking him at its extreme penetrating range.  It had been a very lucky — or unlucky — shot.  Taking the forceps she followed the probe down the wound.  Feeling the nose of the plier-like instrument contact the slug, she opened the nose to grip it.  Carefully she manipulated it until she could feel it fasten on the bullet.  Slowly retracting the instrument, she carefully eased the bullet out.
	When it finally emerged from the wound it was followed by a flow of blood mixed with pus.  Then she reentered the wound with the forceps, reached the muscle tissue, very carefully locked the forceps and retracted.  When the tip reappeared it held what she had been probing for: a piece of his uniform the slug had driven into the wound ahead of itself.  She allowed the wound to drain while examining what she had extracted.
	Meanwhile, Rick had been watching the process with interest.  Susan had set up a plasma bottle beside him before beginning the operation.  Now she opened the clamp to allow the fluid to enter his vein.  Then she powdered the area with antibiotic powder and carefully bandaged it.
	Finally, taking off the mask she smiled and said, “You’ll live, Major.  The bullet remained in one piece and I got the bit of uniform driven in ahead of it.  What do you think?”
	“Lieutenant, when did you do your residence in combat surgery?  That was as nice as I could imagine.  And Susan, I’m really serious.  I’m not teasing you at all.  They couldn’t have done a better job at Pearl Harbor or Bethesda.  Thank you!”
	“Rick, I guess I’m weaker than I thought,” Sue said quietly.  “Would you mind holding me again?  I would like us both to get into the sleeping bag and sleep.  And if you can bring yourself to do it again, I would really like it if you would hold my breast — or where it was when I had one.  Do you mind awfully?”
	Rick held her in his arms in the sleeping bag.  Only then did he realize that she felt hot to the touch.  In an instant she was asleep.  As he began to doze off he only hoped the North Vietnamese weren’t pursuing too relentlessly.  His hand was on her chest and gently he ran his fingertip over her nipple.  Almost instantly it became turgid, and she gave a little murmur of pleasure while she held his hand in place.  In moments they were both asleep.
	The next morning Rick awakened to find the sleeping bag empty.  Susan was already up and about.  The tarp covering the cave mouth had been removed and the gasoline lantern had been extinguished.  Cans of food had been gathered and something that smelled very good was cooking on the gasoline stove.  Rick just watched Susan move around.  In just a few moments she ladled the food into two mess kits and came over to awaken him.  She smiled warmly when she saw him watching her and gave him one of them.
	Sitting down beside him on the edge of the sleeping bag she slowly began to eat.  In spite of trying to eat very slowly, it was no good.  Suddenly she jumped to her feet, ran to the mouth of the cave and vomited up everything she had just eaten.  Looking very chagrined she returned to the sleeping bag, sat down, took a nutrition bar and very slowly and carefully ate it.
	When he finished the food on his plate, she returned to the stove and turned it off completely.  Bringing the pot back, she emptied it into Rick’s mess kit.  “I’m sorry, Rick,” she said sorrowfully.  “I thought I could hold some solid food, but I guess I was too ambitious.  I’m sorry you saw it.  And I apologize for ruining your breakfast.”  Her face was crestfallen as she spoke.
	But then she brightened and said, “Rick, there are all kinds of military things back in the cave.  I got some out, but I think there’s a lot more we could use if I only knew what they are for and how to use them.”
	For the first time Rick realized that there was a light machine gun now emplaced at the mouth of the cave.  Rocks had been carefully piled around to provide some concealment and some protection for the gunner.  The location she had chosen was perfect, providing the broadest possible field of fire.  Moreover, she had done it all quietly so as not to awaken him and managed to do it in spite of her enfeebled condition.
	“Susan, you are unbelievable!  But I thought nurses were supposed to be noncombatant?  That machine gun looks pretty ‘combatant’ to me!”
	Opening her fatigue jacket, his heart sank as he saw the whip cuts across her body.  He motioned for her to come closer to him and she did.  “I thought we were, too, Rick,” she said softly.  “But I’ve been used and abused to such a degree I’ve become a combatant.  Rick, what do I do with the rest of this stuff?”
	“Right now you do nothing!” he exclaimed.  “Susan, I’m so sorry.  You operated on me like the skilled surgeon you are.  Meanwhile, I knew that you were sliced to ribbons, but I didn’t do a damned thing about it.  Lieutenant, lie down on the sleeping bag,” he ordered as he opened up the zipper and spread it out flat on the cave floor.
	Susan looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face, but then did as he asked.  Taking off the combat jacket she lay face down on the sleeping bag.  Remembering how she had cleaned his wound, he decided that he had to do the same thing for her.  Retrieving the large first-aid kit he found the preoperative cleaner and the surgical sponges.  Very carefully he started to clean out the lacerations on her back.  As he worked he realized how bad the cuts were.  Moreover, each cut now appeared to be infected along its entire length.  Although they had all scabbed over, he began to scrub anyway.  She involuntarily winced and he knew that the pain must be excruciating, but still she made no sound.
	Carefully he kept at it, scrubbing each cut from end to end.  As he removed the dirt, he felt like kicking himself.  The dirt was probably the primary source of the infection and her resulting fever.  The wounds should have been completely cleaned out much sooner.  This time he did a good job and scrubbed them clean.  Then he put more of the anaesthetic ointment on each cut after carefully sprinkling antibiotic powder into the cuts.  Finally he put a light dressing over each one to keep any new dirt out.
	When he asked her to turn over, she did.  Again he found himself looking into her beautiful blue eyes, now filled with tears.  Obviously the pain had been terrible as he had worked.  Suddenly it occurred to him that he was looking at a nude woman.  He became aware of the small tight patch of curly golden pubic hair below her emaciated body.
	She looked at him as he looked at her body.  “It’s really pretty ugly, isn’t it?” she asked softly.
	“What is?” he replied.
	“My body.  It’s the sorriest excuse for a female body you’ve ever seen.  Rick, thank you.  I know how hard it is to do what you are doing.  It’s really terrible to have to work on an ugly body, and they don’t get any uglier than mine.  Thank you for not laughing — or vomiting.  Either reaction — or both — would be entirely appropriate.
	“Rick, I think a couple of the ones in front are the worst.  Particularly the one across my breasts — or where they used to be.  It’s pretty bad with infection.  Why don’t you let me do them myself?  You already did the hard ones on my back that I couldn’t reach.  But I can reach these just fine.  And you have to be getting sick just looking at me!”
	Rick came closer to crying at that instant than he had since he was six years old.  This girl who had nursed him was offering to clean her own terrible wounds — an extremely painful and nearly impossible process — just so he wouldn’t have to look at them.
	“Lieutenant, you are the bravest person I have ever met — and possibly the dumbest!  Now just lie back.  I found something for you to bite on.  I know it hurts like hell.”  Suddenly Rick’s face brightened and he exclaimed, “Wait a minute!  How about me giving you a couple of shots of morphine while I clean you up?”
	“Thank you, Major,” Sue replied warmly, “but I would rather you didn’t.  I will take something to bite down on, though.”  He gave her a strip of leather he had cut off a bag in the back of the cave.  She bit down on it, made a face, and then bit down again.  She nodded her head indicating she was ready and he began to clean her wounds.
	The worst cut was indeed the one across her breasts.  Where it went over her left breast, he realized it was almost half-an-inch deep.  After opening the cut he watched blood flowing down her side as he scrubbed all the dirt out of the deep cut.  He followed the same procedure he had on her back.  He scrubbed out the cut, put on antibiotics, then ointment, and finally a bandage.  He was shocked at how quickly the bandage across her breasts became blood-soaked.  Although he had the plasma bottle set up hanging from a forked stick, he didn’t know what to do next.
	Susan took the needle from him and, to his amazement, managed to find a vein in her left arm.  Carefully, she inserted it using her right hand.  When it was fully in place, she fainted.  Rick had watched the process so he released the clamp on the bottle and let the plasma flow.  When it was drained he carefully removed the needle.  Positioning her in the sleeping bag, he climbed in beside her.  In just a moment he was also asleep.
	The next days were spent preparing to defend the cave.  Susan’s fever was reduced but her temperature was still not back to normal.  Nevertheless, she positioned a large number of Claymore mines around the approaches to the cave, making trip after trip in spite of her weakened condition.
	Rick was amused.  She had looked for trousers but couldn’t find any. Similarly, although there were several pairs of combat boots, there were none nearly small enough to fit her dainty feet.  She told him that American women’s boots were highly prized by the North Vietnamese because only American women had feet small enough for their boots to fit the guards’ feet.
	Susan set up a number of mines with trip-wire detonators and others that would be fired from the cave.  She was meticulous about concealing the detonator wires.
	Their cave overlooked a roadway leading to the prison camp and commanded a road bridge over a small gorge.  Rick showed her how to apply C-3 plastic explosive to a bridge and how to wire in the detonators.  As he watched, she scrambled around the structure.  Suddenly he wondered if he had lost his mind.  Although he had a leg wound, he could move around and realized he should.  Instead, their perimeter defenses were being installed by a girl who was lacerated, feverish, and emaciated.
	Slowly but surely all the munitions in the cave except for the small-arms ammunition were sited.  Although they had a radio, it didn’t work.  Rick suspected that it just needed fresh batteries.
	Finally, Susan made her way back to the cave and just collapsed.  Smiling at him she pretended to complain, “I’m going back to the OR!  There’s no heavy lifting.  Rick, I’m sorry I’m so badly out of shape.”
	He had regularly checked her over and was keeping his fingers crossed.  It was clear even to his untrained eye that she was going to have scars across her body from the whip marks.  He only hoped the Navy had skilled plastic surgeons who could put her back together again.
	Looking at her, he gave her a full-bearded smile.  She just smiled back, then unbuttoned her combat jacket exposing her entire body.  Rick suddenly realized she was starting to look more like a woman again and less like a skeleton.  Reaching out, he felt her chest.  Now he could even feel a slight rounding where her breasts should have been and felt her nipple harden under his rough fingers.
	Since there had been no chance to wash he knew that he stank to high heaven.  Now his beard was only a little darker than Susan’s hair.  While his hair was brown with gold flecks, hers still was liquid gold in spite of all the dirt.  He was startled to realize that her pubic hair almost exactly matched the color of the hair on his head.
	Shaking his head to try to quell his sexual thoughts, he asked, “Have you seen any batteries back there, by any chance?  I think our radio would work if the damned batteries weren’t dead.  As it is our evacuation chopper is nearly two weeks overdue.”
	Susan got back on her feet and went to the back of the cave.  After rummaging around in several containers she came back with two handfuls of batteries.  “Are these the right size?  And do I have enough?”
	Rick glanced at the batteries, opened the battery box on the radio and loaded in eight fresh batteries.  Going to the front of the cave he extended the antenna.  When he spoke into the microphone and gave his call sign he was surprised at the instant response he obtained.  The reception was outstanding because there was an AWACS plane on station almost directly overhead which picked up his transmission and in moments patched him through to headquarters in Saigon.
	Rick quickly explained their situation, and a pickup was scheduled for the second morning at dawn.  After having felt abandoned, he was relieved to learn that the AWACS would maintain position and monitor their radio frequency continuously until they were picked up.
	That evening Susan picked through their food supplies looking for the very best of the remaining food.  Since they would only be staying one more day, they could really feast.  She had now recovered enough in just the few weeks so that she could eat normal meals although she still could not eat very much.  Carefully she cooked the food and then they sat side by side on the sleeping bag — she now thought of it as their home — and ate in companionable silence.
	Rick had been watching her as she prepared their dinner.  Here is a truly remarkable girl, he thought.  Try as he might, though, she would not let him do any cooking in the cave, and he had to admit that the food she served was far better than anything he had ever eaten in the field even though it came from the same containers.
	Later that night they were lying together in the sleeping bag and his hand was over her breast where she liked it to be.  Now there was even a small bulge since she had started to regain some of her lost weight.  Turning her head to look up at him Susan asked, “Rick, would you do me a great favor?”
	Looking down at her Rick was startled to see that there were tears in her eyes.  “Of course, Sue!  Anything.  What is it?”
	Swallowing hard and with her tears beginning to flow she said softly, “Rick, would you please make love to me?  I know the whole idea has to be repulsive to you...”
	Then she proceeded to tell him how she had regularly been fucked by the guards, including the time with thirty of them at once.  She spared herself nothing and seemed to be trying to emphasize how vile she had been.  Listening to her tale, it was all Rick could do to keep from starting to cry himself.  She concluded her tale of self-degradation all focused on trying to get food and medicine for her fellow prisoners.
	Finally she said, “I’m emaciated, ugly...  There’s not a single reason I can think of, except...  Rick, I really need to know if I’m still a woman.  I need to know if I’m capable of pleasuring a man.  Please take me!”
	Taking her into his arms, he slipped off her combat jacket.  Then Susan unzipped the sleeping bag and helped Rick off with his clothes.  He made a wry face as he smelled the rank odor of his body when she removed his underwear.  When he commented on the stink all she said was, “It’s a real man’s smell.”  Finally he was undressed.
	Then Susan looked down at herself and then at him.  Kneeling between his spread legs she bent over, took his prick into her very thin hands and began to kiss and suck it.  In just moments his cock was in a raging erection which she kissed tenderly.  Lifting her head she said softly, “Rick, I’ve been beaten on my back and chest.  You have a bad leg.  May I be on top?  That way might be less painful for both of us.”
	Bending over, she kissed him on the lips.  Trying to be careful of her cuts he held her and returned her kiss.  Although he now knew exactly where all of her cuts were, tonight she didn’t care about the pain at all.  It was clear that she wanted to be held tightly and kissed with as much passion as Rick could muster.
	As their lips met, Rick suddenly realized it was the first kiss they had ever shared.  In spite of sleeping together with his hand on her breast they had never kissed before.  The first kiss was unbelievable for them both.  Initially it was filled with warmth and goodness and love.  Then the passion increased and just flowed in rivers between them.  There was a flow of electricity that almost knocked Susan over, and ringing bells that they both heard.  As they continued their kiss, Susan could feel Rick’s already immense cock get larger still.
	Carefully she took it and positioned it at her vaginal opening.  Slowly she lowered herself down on it, impaling herself on the giant pipe that ripped her insides.  Even before they shared their first kiss Susan’s cunt had been flowing with her juices.  Now they were flowing in a flood to lubricate the passage of the ravaging cock.  She had never had an experience like it in her life.
	For his part Rick had never had such an experience either.  Susan was still emaciated.  She had no tits, no hips, and no legs.  All she had was skin and bones.  Her thighs were still like pipe stems, yet it was almost as if she were worshiping him with what little was left of her body.  The feelings she was able to create with her cunt were utterly marvelous.
	Although he could feel his cock stretching her insides, Sue seemed to revel in it.  She made ecstatically happy noises deep in her body as she just rose and fell on the impaling weapon.  He felt her reach an orgasm with her pelvis moving by itself as she let out a scream of pure joy.  Sweat was starting to pour off her body as she regained control and then continued to fuck herself.  She reached a second orgasm, a third, and a fourth.
	Now it was almost continuous but still, incredibly, whenever Rick felt that he was about to release she would subtly change her tempo so that his need to cum receded.  Finally she could control it no longer.  Dropping all her weight on him she drove his cock as deep into her body as it would go just as it began to pump his cum into her.  Again she let out a wordless scream of pure joy as she felt him flood her insides.
	Then she could take it no longer as her nervous system shorted out from the sensory overload.  She collapsed on his chest in a dead faint.
	Although his cock was still inside her, he pulled the sleeping bag over them, zipped it up, and just held her close.  Gently he rolled on his side while his cock continued to impale her.  In moments they were both sound asleep.
	Early the next morning the first of the Claymores exploded, jerking them both awake.  Rick scrambled for the light machine gun while Sue reached for her combat jacket.  Peering over their homemade parapet of rocks they saw that a small patrol had been wiped out by the well-placed mine.  Unfortunately, the patrol had been on the path which led right to their cave.  Although the mine had done its work well, the explosion had brought the prison camp, less than half-a-mile away, alive with a rush.  They could hear the sounds of heavy equipment — presumably tanks — starting up.
	Rick picked up the radio, punched the “Talk” button and said, “Mayday, Mayday.  This is Gopher One.  It looks like we shook up the hornets’ nest and the hornets are out in force.  Any available air support would be greatly appreciated.”
	The AWACS controller responded immediately with the welcome message that air support was on the way.  Both fighter bombers and helicopter gunships were inbound and Rick was requested to mark their location with smoke.  Locating a Very pistol he fired red smoke flares in the agreed-upon patterns.
	Meanwhile, while they were talking, Rick could hear the sound of tanks moving down the road toward the bridge.  Susan had already wired down the contacts for the bridge charges to the detonator.  While Rick scrambled to get dressed he could hear Susan saying, “Come on...  Come on...  Just a little bit more...  a bit more...  Now!”
	She screamed the last word and twisted the detonator as the first tank was about to clear the bridge and the second had just gone out on the span.  There were huge explosions at both ends of the bridge.  The span just tiredly collapsed in its center and fell into the river below taking the tanks and accompanying troops down with it.
	Turning to Rick, Susan was beaming with pride as she asked, “Was that okay, Rick?  Did I do it right?”
	“It couldn’t be better!” he exclaimed.  “But let’s keep a sharp eye out.  They almost certainly know where we are now.”
	After the bridge was blown, all hell broke loose.  Wave after wave of assaults were launched at their positions.  The first few were broken up by Susan’s remotely-fired Claymores.  Others were broken up by the fighters and gunships that were flooding the area like angry hornets.  But still the attacks continued.  Rick was utterly astonished at Susan’s strength and stamina in spite of her still-emaciated condition.  Watching her handle the machine gun she reminded him of an Amazon.  An emaciated Amazon, he thought.  That’s certainly a contradiction in terms!  And yet it was true.
	While just snatching at the nutrition bars and sipping water, they beat back attack after attack through the day and then into the night.  Finally at dawn — it was the day they were supposed to be evacuated — the North Vietnamese launched an all-out assault preceded by heavy mortar fire.  Finally their luck ran out.  A mortar round exploded inside the cave and shredded Rick with shrapnel.
	When she saw him hit and drop to the ground, Susan went berserk.  Grabbing an Armalite and a sack of grenades, she charged the attackers, cutting them to pieces.  Although she was hit three times herself, she neither knew nor cared.  All she knew was that the man she loved more than life itself was dead.  Between the Armalite and the grenades, there was not an enemy left alive when the Marine Rangers arrived moments later.
	Susan saw them arrive, motioned toward the cave mouth and then collapsed.

Chapter 2
	Rick Jackson was passing his secretary’s desk when he heard her say, “I’m sorry, Miss Jennings.  Mr. Jackson is not taking your calls...”
	He stopped short and screamed, “Don’t let that person hang up!  Is that Susan Jennings?”
	“Yes it is,” Annette Richardson replied in a bored tone of voice.  “The silly thing has been calling for weeks.  All she says is that she knew you in Vietnam, but she would not tell me what she wanted to speak to you about.  I told her you had no interest in talking with her.”
	“You’re fired!” Rick exploded.  “Collect your pay and get out of here now!  And if you lose the girl on the end of that line, I’ll not be responsible for your safety.  Am I making myself clear?” he screamed.
	Miss Richardson was stunned.  Holding the receiver in her now-shaking hand she said, “Miss Jennings, Mr. Jackson will take your call.  Please do not hang up!”  She murmured a small prayer with the last words.
	Before she had finished speaking, Rick, who had dashed into his office and picked up the phone, was on the line.  “Sue, is it really you?  Where are you?”
	The voice at the other end of the line sounded tired and defeated.  Speaking as if by rote she said, “Mr. Jackson, I don’t think you remember me, but we met in Vietnam.  Would it be possible for me to make an appointment to see you someday?  Miss Richardson has already told me how very busy you are...”
	“Susan, my darling, where are you?” Rick interrupted.
	He had remembered her voice instantly even though it had been over four years.  But something was very wrong.  It was almost as if she did not hear a word he said.  Susan sounded like she was reciting memorized lines.
	“I’m... I’m downstairs at a pay phone...”  Just then Rick heard the characteristic sound of the pay phone collecting its initial deposit.
	Before the connection was broken Rick yelled into the receiver, “Susan, I’m on the fortieth floor.  Please come up immediately.  Please!”  The connection clicked off and he did not know if she had heard him or not.
	Rick immediately called the reception desk on the floor.  Although he didn’t even know the receptionist’s name, he did know she was like Cerberus at the gate.  No one ever got past her.  She answered his direct line instantly, “Yes, Mr. Jackson, how may I help you?”
	“A Miss Susan Jennings is on her way up to see me.  First, you are to escort her in to me personally regardless of how she may look.  Second, call security downstairs immediately.  Alert them to Miss Jennings’ presence.  Have them bring her up here if, by some chance, she did not hear my invitation.”
	After taking a deep breath he continued, “Miss Richardson has just been fired.  She has been screening Miss Jennings away from me for weeks.  There is nothing more important to me than seeing that girl again!  Am I clear?”
	He could hear the receptionist swallowing very hard and then saying that he was being very clear indeed.  Then he called Personnel — Human Resources, these days, he thought with a grimace — and told them to send up a new secretary for him immediately.  He also informed the director that Annette Richardson had been fired for cause: gross misconduct.  He slammed down the phone again as the receptionist escorted a girl into his office.
	Rick’s heart did a somersault.  He met Susan at the office door, thanked the receptionist and told her that he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances.  Meanwhile Susan was just standing at the threshold looking bewildered.  When he finally focused on the girl, he was shocked.  Although it had been over four years, she looked little better than she had in Vietnam.  Her clothes were rags.  As he looked at her he couldn’t even talk.  All he did was gather her into his arms and hold her tightly.  As he did he realized how frail her body still was.  It felt like he was embracing a skeleton.  Still he tilted her chin up and kissed her gently.  At least it was supposed to be gentle.  Instead, the instant their lips made contact he again felt the same incredible electricity flowing between them.
	Releasing her finally, he helped her over to the sofa and then picked up his phone.  A girl answered when he buzzed his secretary’s line.  He told her to have his car brought around immediately and to cancel all of his engagements until further notice.
	As he was speaking to the woman, he saw Susan slump over on the sofa.  Gathering her up in his arms — she was now unconscious — he carried her out to the elevator.  He was only dimly aware of the shocked looks in his direction coming from company employees to whom he had always been the soul of propriety.  Here he was now carrying a ragamuffin — a homeless woman of the streets — in his arms.  When his private elevator reached the basement garage his limousine was at the door waiting.  After gently putting Susan into the back seat, he told his chauffeur to take him back to his apartment as fast as possible.
	As the big car started to move, Rick picked up a car phone and called his private physician, Tony Burke.  When the doctor was on the line he said, “Tony, it’s Rick.  I’m on my way to my apartment and unless you’re in the middle of open-heart surgery I need you right away.  Can you come?”
	Tony was hearing a tone of concern in Rick’s voice that he had never heard before.  Sensing that something was very wrong he said he would be right over.  After canceling the rest of his morning appointments he ran out to his car.
	When Rick and Susan reached the apartment, he carried her to the bedroom and gently lay her on the bed.  As he did, he was again astonished at how little she weighed.  She was as light as a feather and apparently not much heavier than she had been after starving herself in the POW camp.  He could not understand it.
	As he began to strip off her clothes he found that she was wearing next to nothing.  There was a ratty coat, a worn dress several sizes too large — and nothing else!  There were no underwear nor shoes.  Her bare feet were filthy from walking the Los Angeles streets.  From the callouses on them it was apparent she had been doing it for some time.  Both garments appeared to be Salvation Army rejects.
	After disposing of the clothing remnants, Rick went into the bathroom and ran the tub.  As it filled he had his first chance to look at the girl he loved — and he was appalled.  The scars on her body from the whipping were still prominent.  But now, in addition, he saw signs of at least three bullet wounds in her right shoulder displaying the characteristic inward pucker.
	After checking the temperature of the water he carefully carried her into the bathroom and gently lowered her into the water.  The contact with the water caused Susan to begin to revive.
	He held her as her eyes blinked open and she asked softly, “Where am I?” as if being naked in a bathtub was an everyday occurrence.
	“You’re in my apartment, Susan Jennings,” Rick said softly.  “I’m Rick Jackson.  Do you remember me?”
	Instead of immediately answering, she just held out her arms to him.  Kneeling on the floor he again held her close and softly kissed her.  Again he felt the same electricity but now that she had regained awareness, it had far more power than it did earlier.
	After feeling her lips move on his he could hear a warm murmur from deep in her body.  “How could I ever forget?” she replied softly.
	“Do you feel better?  Would you like to wash your hair?”  Rick was beside himself, not knowing what to do.  “I’m pretty sure I have some woman’s shampoo and stuff,” he added.  “I was going to try to do it for you, but I’m sure I’m even worse at washing a woman’s hair than I am at cleaning out cuts.  Would you like to try yourself?  Can you?  Are you strong enough?”
	“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed.  “It has been so long.  But I’m sure I’ll be able to do it.”
	After getting the shampoo and conditioner Rick started draining the tub and then turned on the shower.  When she began to wash her hair he left the bathroom but listened carefully at the door fearing she might faint again.
	He heard the shower shut off and the hair dryer start when the doorbell rang.  It was Tony.  Rick quickly briefed him on what little he knew of Susan’s background and then took him into the bedroom.  As they entered Susan was just emerging from the bathroom wearing a terry robe that had been hanging behind the door.
	“Susan,” Rick said brightly, “I would like you to meet Tony Burke.  Tony is my personal physician and I asked him to come over to examine you.  Will you permit him to?”
	Sue just looked at him in a strange way, let the robe drop to the floor and then stood up straight with her arms at her sides.
	Tony took one look at the revealed body and pulled the covers back from the bed.  “Get in here, young lady,” he ordered.  “Now!”
	Susan was startled by the tone of his voice but instantly obeyed.  Lying on the bed, she looked up at Rick sorrowfully.  He didn’t understand the significance of the look she was giving him.  What she was trying to communicate was that it wasn’t her idea to dirty his beautiful bed.
	Tony gave her a thorough examination, inspecting her body very carefully.  Then he asked her to roll over on her stomach because of what he had learned from Rick about her scars.  The five on her back were nearly as prominent as those across the front of her body.  Susan’s skin color was shocking.  She appeared jaundiced and was sickly pale.
	After completing his examination he made sure the drapes were drawn to darken the room.  After pulling the covers up over her shoulders they withdrew from the room quietly closing the door behind them.
	Sitting in the library, Tony just shook his head and said, “Rick, never in my professional career have I seen a girl in as bad shape as she is.  She is suffering from dangerous malnutrition.  She has wasted away to just skin and bones.”  Looking at his friend he said, “Rick, I have never seen you react like this in my life — to anything.  You really care about her, don’t you?”
	“Tony, I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for that girl.  She saved my life — twice!  And in less than three weeks.  I have never met a finer human being in my life.”  Rick paused and then continued in a very quiet and near-reverent tone, “And I love her more than life itself!”
	“Ah, hah!  A mystery solved.  Rick, you’ve done nothing much the last few years except make money — in enormous piles!  I have never seen you socialize — ever.  And you sure as hell aren’t gay.  What happened?”
	“Tony, I was shot up in Vietnam.  You know that.  You’ve seen the scars.  What do you think of my leg?”
	“A competent surgeon extracted the bullet.  It’s no big deal for a modern hospital.  But why do you ask?”
	“Because she’s the competent surgeon and the ‘hospital’ was a cave in the jungle.  She operated by lantern light, while running a burning fever and weighing about ten pounds less than she does now.”  Shaking his head, Rick continued, “You see those scars across her body?  They were open wounds that day.  The one across her breast was nearly half an inch deep.  And she operated by herself.  There was no one there except the two of us.  She is a Navy nurse.  Then beginning the next day she started to play Amazon.  I was the commander of a Marine Ranger unit.  But I just watched while she set demolition charges and land mines while being in even worse physical condition than you see now.
	“After I took a mortar hit, my men tell me she absolutely went berserk!  Although she took three bullets, she absolutely wiped out the attacking enemy force.  My men counted seventy-seven dead, but that’s incomplete.  My sergeant carried her out along with me.  I was still unconscious when I was evacuated back to Pearl Harbor.  That was the last time I saw her until today.”
	He looked intently into Tony Burke’s eyes, seeming to force the man to understand.  “Seventy-seven enemy makes Sergeant York look like a piker.  Do you understand, Tony?”
	“I understand,” the doctor replied softly.  “Look, Rick, there’s a guy I want to get on her case.  His name is Mike Chapman.  He’s the finest plastic surgeon in the world.  I want him to operate on those scars.”
	Then Tony looked puzzled.  “There’s one thing I don’t understand, though.  Those wounds are from enemy action and our military people are very good at treating that sort of thing.  Rick, I don’t think she was ever treated.  In fact, from the way she moves, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s still carrying some enemy metal in her body.  Whatever happened?”
	Rick just shook his head and said, “That’s the problem, Tony.  I don’t know!  I’ve been thinking of her every waking moment for years, hoping against hope that she was still alive.  This morning I fired my secretary.  She had been told repeatedly that I wanted to see or talk with anyone from Vietnam in hopes of getting some word about Susan.
	“Apparently I didn’t make myself too clear because this morning, entirely by accident, I find out that Susan herself has been trying to reach me for weeks but that idiot secretary was intercepting her calls.”
	He just shook his head and then continued, “I think I know Mike Chapman.  I’ll call him.  But what about right now?  What should we do?”
	Tony checked the phone book for a number, placed a call, ordered, gave Rick’s address and hung up.  When Rick looked at him quizzically, he grinned and shrugged.  “Rick, aside from surgery to handle the scars and the apparent slugs, Susan needs to be built up.  I just ordered a gallon of Jewish penicillin, otherwise known as chicken soup with matzo balls.”  He shook his head and added, “And you know what?  I was reading an article a short time ago that reported researchers have found significant medicinal properties in the stuff!  Anyway, it can’t hurt and will probably help.  That girl needs to regain her strength before anything else can happen.”
	Tony’s face became serious as he continued, “Rick, can you leave Susan alone for a while?  The operations on those scars are going to be very time-consuming and painful.  Beyond that, though, she’ll look a lot worse before she looks any better.  What I’m suggesting is that you get her on her feet and then leave her alone for a while — possibly as long as a year.  Could you do that?”
	Rick looked crushed.  “My God, Tony!  I’ve lost her for over four years already.  I don’t even know where she’s been.  Why do I have to leave her now?  She’s going to need care.  You said so yourself.”
	Tony looked very unhappy with what he had to say.  “Rick, I’m assuming you’re in love with her and she’s in love with you.  It’s obvious that she has no regard for herself at all.  She acts like her body is a trash can.  I think it would be much better if you could stay away until she’s back together.  I think she wants to be physically attractive to you.  Will you let her be?  Do you understand?”
	Rick just nodded miserably.
	When Tony left, he went into the bedroom and just sat on the edge of the bed in the dim light just looking at the sleeping girl he loved so much.  When the doorbell rang, he was still sitting there.  The soup even came with instructions on reheating it.  Rick tipped the man twenty dollars and made arrangements for daily deliveries until further notice.
	Then Rick heated up a large batch and ladled some into a soup dish.  After carefully putting in two matzo balls he carried it into the bedroom.  Turning on a light away from Susan’s head was enough.  He saw her eyes blink and then open.  Smiling at her warmly he said very quietly, “Hi.  How are you feeling now?”
	She tried to grin but her face dissolved into tears.  Only her face was showing from under the covers.  “Mr. Jackson, why do I always look like something the cat wouldn’t touch when you see me?”  She tried to get out of bed but he held her down.
	“Susan, please just lie still.  I have something the doctor recommended.  Do you feel like eating?  I don’t know how it compares in nutrition to those bars we had in Vietnam, but I’m sure it tastes better.”
	He gently lifted her up to a sitting position and again almost cried when he saw her scarred chest with her almost-vestigial breasts.  Remembering Tony’s comment about her self-esteem, he noted that she made no effort to cover herself.  Carefully he spooned the soup for her.  After she tasted the first mouthful he was rewarded by a look of joy on her face.  After going through three full bowls he could see her head nodding and her eyes starting to close as exhaustion again overtook her.
	Disposing of the soup dishes he undressed and climbed into bed with her.  With his arm around her body he held her close.  As she had done in Vietnam, she put his hand on top of one of her scarred tits and immediately fell asleep.

Chapter 3
	The next morning Rick initiated a pattern that he continued for the following week.  He just continued to heat more chicken soup and feed it to her.  Between times she slept, often with him in the bed beside her.  Although it might have been his imagination, Rick felt that Susan slept much more soundly when he was lying next to her.  He came to love the feeling as Susan would almost awaken, rub her body against his, and then relax again back into a deep sleep when she found he was still beside her.
	After nearly a week spent in bed Susan started to take an interest in her surroundings and Rick thought it was time to try to find out what had happened.  He had ordered some clothing for her from a mail-order house and she was now sitting opposite him at the breakfast table wearing a blue flannel bathrobe with her monogram on it that he had bought for her.  Rick was pleased to see that her color had improved significantly.  She seemed to adore her new robe.
	“Sue, where have you been for the last four years?” he asked softly.
	She tried a little smile and replied, “I really don’t know.  I guess I started to figure out where I was a couple of years ago.  Between that point and the time we were together, there are just brief episodes I can dimly recall.  For example, I think I was court-martialed.  I must have been, because I was dismissed from the service and that can only happen in a general court-martial.  I can’t remember anything about it.
	“I... I’ve been subsisting.  It seems there were a few antiwar groups that wanted to make me a heroine but they found I wasn’t antiwar.”  She smiled faintly and added, “As a matter of fact, I was pretty bloodthirsty.”
	She looked at him and changed the subject, speaking very softly.  Her words almost killed him: “Mr. Jackson, could... could I be your... maid?  I realize I don’t know very much about housekeeping and I certainly can’t do very much yet, but if I could just stay here with you, as soon as I’m able, I’ll take care of the apartment and cook and... and... perform any services you might want.”
	She looked at him with an intensity that almost made him cry as she repeated, “Any services I am capable of performing.  Do you understand?”
	Rick’s heart turned over.  Being very careful with his choice of words and recognizing the sense of total defeat in the girl he changed the subject and asked, “How did you find me, Susan?”
	“I saw your picture in the paper a few months ago.  I just hoped you might remember me.  How did you find me, Mr. Jackson?  The last few days have been just a vague blur.”
	Again his heart lurched.  “Susan, you found me.  But I think you just answered a question I had.  Do you remember talking to me on the telephone?”  She just shook her head, no.  “I didn’t think you did,” he continued.   “You did, though.  You sounded like you were just reciting lines and weren’t hearing my replies.  I guess you weren’t, were you?”
	Again she shook her head.  Then she gave him a very small but very warm smile.   “Thank you, Mr. Jackson, for the beautiful bathrobe.  It feels so good against my skin.  It’s the very first clothing of my very own I’ve had since I was kicked out of the Navy.  I’ll pay you for it as soon as I can earn some money.”
	Again Rick’s heart turned over when she continued, “Of course, it’s so much nicer than anything I would have bought for myself.  It’s much too nice for a maid to be wearing.”
	Rick excused himself and went to the telephone.  First he called his office and asked for his security chief.  “Brad, this is Jackson.  I know you have great connections in Washington.  I need a fast check run.  There was a general court-martial in the Pacific — I’m guessing it was between three and four years ago, and probably in Subic Bay.  The defendant was Lieutenant Susan Jennings, U.S. Navy Nurse Corps.  She was convicted and dismissed from the service.  I want everything you can get on the trial and its outcome, and I want it fast.  Understand?  Call me at home as soon as you get anything at all.”  The instructions were acknowledged and he hung up.
	Then he placed another call.  A voice answered, “Cameron residence.”  Rick identified himself and asked to speak to Ginny.  Moments later she was on the phone.  Ginny Cameron was far better known to the movie-going public as Marcia Matthews.  Now rated the top female box-office star in Hollywood, she had just received an Academy Award nomination for her latest film, a motion picture that had been financially backed by Rick Jackson.
	She had first contacted Rick nearly three years earlier as a result of a search she had been conducting.  She, too, had been desperately trying to find Susan Jennings.  Subsequently, Rick had made tens of millions of dollars backing two of her films.
	“Hi Rick!  What’s new?” she asked brightly.
	“Ginny, are you still... friendly... with that overpriced meat cutter?”
	He could actually hear her grin over the phone.  “If you are referring to Dr. Michael Chapman, Fellow of the American Academy of Plastic Surgery, the answer is yes.  Why?  Did you crack up one of your fancy sports cars?  Need a little repair work on your face, perhaps?”
	Rick realized with a start that he had already relaxed.  He realized it was the effect Ginny always had on him.  Moreover, he realized that her incredible personal warmth that came across in her films was, along with her incredible beauty, substantially responsible for her motion picture successes.
	“It’s not for me,” he replied.  “Do you remember a girl named Susan Jennings?  I think I heard you mention her name once or twice.”
	There was an immediate stillness on the line.  When Ginny spoke again it was in a hushed and near-reverent tone.  “Rick, did you find her?”
	“Honey, believe it or not, she found me.  And Ginny, she’s really in very bad shape.  She needs help... an awful lot of it.”
	He took a deep breath and continued, “Look, I’ve been teasing you about Mike for a long time but I know he’s the very best there is at what he does.  I know he’s booked for fifteen years in advance, but do you think you could get him to take a look at Susan and try to work her in?  Money is not an issue!”
	Ginny remained silent for a few moments longer.  When she finally spoke it was almost as if she hadn’t heard a word Rick had said other than Susan’s name.  “How soon can I see her?” she asked in the same reverent tone.
	“Could I bring her over to your place sometime today?  Would that be possible?” he asked.
	“Could you bring her over right now?” she replied.  Again, there was the same strange voice tone.
	“We’ll be over in less than an hour, if that’s convenient,” he said.
	“Any time would be convenient,” she responded and then hung up.
	Returning to the kitchen he found Susan still sitting patiently at the kitchen table.  “Susan,” he said, “this apartment is really kind of small — there’s only one bedroom.  But I know a big movie star named Marcia Matthews who might be able to use you as a maid if you’re willing.  Are you?”
	His heart sank as he saw the light in her eyes suddenly die.  Then she smiled very weakly and said, “Thank you, Mr. Jackson, for caring.  I’ll try to do my very best for Miss Matthews.  When can I meet her and how do I get to her house?”
	Suddenly Susan’s face fell.  “Could I borrow some money?  Maybe five dollars?  I’ll ask Miss Matthews to send it back to you from my very first paycheck.  It’s... It’s a little hard getting around in Hollywood using public transportation.”
	Suddenly she began to weep in a hopeless-sounding fashion.  He tried to take her into his arms, but she wouldn’t let him.  She just sat upright on the kitchen chair with tears streaming from her eyes.  Looking straight ahead, she said, “Sir, that won’t be enough.  I need a lot of money.  Maybe even fifty dollars.  I have no clothes.  I looked around, but I guess you threw out what I was wearing when you met me.  All I have is this beautiful bathrobe.”
	She immediately thought about returning it to the store and using the money to buy a blouse and skirt.  But then she realized that it was monogrammed and was probably not returnable.  To her the problem was insoluble.  Fifty dollars was more money than she had had in the entire previous year.
	Meanwhile Rick was close to tears again.  The pain and humiliation that this girl had suffered and was still experiencing was inhuman.  Leaving the room for a moment, he picked up some things and returned with three large boxes in his arms.  “I think you’ll find something here, Susan.  All of these things are yours.”
	Susan opened the first box and found brand-new women’s clothing — mostly sporty things — in the smallest sizes available.  Dropping the robe to the floor, she put on a blouse and skirt.  Even though it was the smallest size the company made, the skirt almost fell off her body.  She was slim-hipped, but all that showed were her very sharp hip bones.  After he located a couple of safety pins Susan was able to pin the sides enough for it to stay on.
	Then she looked up at him with tears streaming from her eyes.  “There’s no way I can thank you, sir.  No way at all!  These are very expensive, I know.  Far more expensive than anything I would ever think of buying.  May I return some so I won’t owe you quite so much money?  I won’t ever be able to wear them all, anyway, and it will take me years to earn the money I owe you already.”
	Rick could scarcely see through the tears that suddenly clouded his eyes.  Instead he helped her pack a couple of small bags with the things she thought she might need and then carried them down to his car.  After helping her in — and getting a curious glance from Susan in the process — he got behind the wheel and headed over to Beverly Hills.  Soon they reached the gates of Ginny’s estate.  Rolling up the driveway, he stopped at the gracious entry.
	As he got out, the front door opened.  It was Ginny who stood waiting as he helped Sue out of his car.  Tears were rolling unchecked down her cheeks in twin streams as the girl was helped up the steps.
	Susan extended her hand and said, “Good morning, Miss Matthews.  Mr. Jackson said you might consider hiring me as a maid.”
	Susan was dumfounded when the beautiful woman ignored her outstretched hand and instead took her into her arms and just held her close.  Sue looked into the woman’s eyes and a light of recognition went on in her brain.  She was looking into such familiar brilliant emerald-green eyes and seeing hair that was a glorious shade of auburn.  “You aren’t...  You can’t be... Ginny?”
	At the sound of her name, Ginny Cameron completely lost control and started to bawl like a baby.  Susan could feel her head nod as she just wept uncontrollably.  Susan wrapped her arms around the woman and tried to comfort her.
	This caused Ginny to forcibly pull herself together.  “Susan Jennings, you haven’t changed a bit!  You’re still trying to protect me and comfort me, aren’t you?”
	Embarrassed, Susan just shook her head.  “No, ma’am, Miss Matthews.”  With her face falling she added, “I do apologize for the familiarity, though.  Maids certainly don’t hug their employers.”  Then, with a small, very shy little smile she added, “But, Miss Cameron, you look simply exquisite!  I’m so very happy for you!”
	It was only through an enormous effort of will that Ginny did not dissolve into tears again.  Putting her arm under Susan’s she escorted her through the house and out onto the pool terrace.  There a tall, very handsome man was standing waiting for them.
	“Susan,” Ginny said, “I would like you to meet Mike Chapman, a very dear friend of mine.”  Looking at him tears started to flow as she said, “Mike, I don’t know how to introduce Susan to you.”  Her voice broke and she began to cry again.  “Darling, but for Susan I would have been dead four years ago.  What can I possibly call her?”
	Susan extended her hand and said diffidently, “How do you do, Mr. Chapman.  I’m very pleased to meet you.”
	Mike knew something of Susan’s background and so was watching her closely.  As a result, he was able quickly to grab her the instant he saw her knees start to buckle.  Helping her to a chair, he took a glass of water and held it for her while she sipped.
	Looking up at him gratefully, she softly added, “Thank you, sir.  I guess I’m not as strong yet as I thought I was.”  But then with a smile she continued, “But I’m sure to be ready to go to work as Miss Matthews maid in just a day or so.”
	Mike’s heart twisted listening to this poor tortured girl.  As a plastic surgeon he was expert at judging bone structure and unchangeable physical characteristics.  Looking at her closely he instantly concluded that Susan should be a very beautiful woman.  He said, “Susan, I’m a plastic surgeon.  Ginny tells me you have some scars that should be tended to.  May I examine you now, please?”
	Again his heart was wrenched by her reply: “Of course, sir, but it’s really very premature.  I had them looked at in a city hospital once and it will take years and years for me to save that kind of money...”  Suddenly her eyes widened and she asked, “Are you Dr. Michael Chapman?”
	He nodded and she just shook her head steadily.  “Thank you, sir, but no.  I’ve heard of you — I guess everyone has.  You are the very best in the profession.  I couldn’t earn enough in my lifetime to pay your fee to remove even one of the scars.  I am... I was... a nurse.  The scars are really pretty bad.”
	Then she brightened and continued, “But they don’t show at all, so there’s really no need to bother.”
	Mike decided to try a different tack.  “Young lady, you are coming with me to a bedroom to be examined.  I cannot accept no for an answer.  Ginny introduced me as a friend.  Actually, I am her live-in lover and am slowly breaking down her resistance to the idea of marrying me.  Your reappearance will certainly help.  However, if I don’t at least get to look at you, I get kicked out on the street.  Since I can’t live without being able to make love to Ginny’s glorious body, I’m afraid it’s either you or me.  And I’m bigger than you are.  Now let’s go!”
	He helped her to a spare bedroom and watched as she took off her clothes.  Rick and Ginny followed them into the room but stayed in the background while Mike took out a pair of magnifying eyeglasses and carefully examined Susan’s scars.  Then he pulled down the bed covers, motioned for her to get in, and then gently tucked her into the bed.
	When the three reached the terrace, Mike breathed a heavy sigh.  “That is as bad as anything I have ever seen in my life,” he said.  “And that includes pictures in the medical books, as well.  What happened?”
	Although she was quietly crying Ginny looked up at him and said, “That poor kid!  Mike, those scars should be mine!  We were both prisoners in a North Vietnamese POW camp.  We were ordered to assemble in the center of the compound for some reason.  I got up, but fell down again.  I was in pretty poor shape at the time.  A guard was going to give me ten lashes with his bullwhip.  Before he could swing it, though, Susan covered my body with her own.  First, the guard gave her five lashes across her back and then motioned for her to roll over.”
	She looked at him with her green eyes melting with tears and continued, “Mike, she turned over and bridged her body over mine.  Blood from the cuts on her back was dripping onto me, but she held herself above me with her arms and legs to keep from putting any weight on me.  Can you imagine?”  Tears were pouring from her eyes as she continued, “I could feel her shudder each time the whip cut into her body.
	When he finished, the chief guard motioned towards a cross they had erected in the yard.  I suspect it was Black and his friends that set that one up.  At any rate, Susan saw the cross, smiled, and then gave me her shirt saying she wouldn’t be needing it anymore.
	“They tied her to the cross in the morning.  That afternoon Rick and his men raided the camp.  The last thing I saw was the cross standing bare in the compound.  Rick had already taken her down.  It was the last time I saw Susan Jennings until this morning.”
	She looked up at him with hope in her eyes, but with tears streaming down her cheeks and said, “Mike, if you will help that girl, I will do absolutely anything you ever want.  Anything!  I will be completely available to you for any purpose whatsoever.”
	With her eyes gleaming she asked, “Am I making myself clear, Mike?  Absolutely anything!  Forever!”
	Turning to Jackson she said, “Rick, how can I sign over all of my rights to the films I’ve made to Susan?  If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t be here and there wouldn’t be any.  Can you do that for me?”
	Rick just shook his head doggedly and said, “I could, Ginny, but I won’t.  Believe me when I say she doesn’t need money.  She has all she could possibly use.  Mike, if you can make her whole...  If you can even make her a little better...  There is no price I will not pay.  I will give you absolutely anything!  Mike, for the love of God, please help her,” he cried.
	Chapman had been looking from one to the other.  Without responding directly to either of them he picked up the phone and called his hospital.  He spoke to the hospital administrator and asked for the surgery to be set up for a very special operation.  He ordered his full team to be ready for the first operation beginning the following morning.  Surgery could take as much as three successive days for the first phase alone.
	After listening to the administrator’s reply he said, “Incidentally, there will be no fee either to me or to the hospital.  I’ll pay the rest of the surgical team myself.”  The administrator was obviously objecting, but Mike cut him off.  “I have generated more revenue for your damned hospital than all of your other surgeons combined!  And if you ever want me to operate there again, this one is on you.  Is that understood?”
	He hung up the phone and glared at the other two.  “As for you, young lady, you can start preparing that trim little ass for our wedding.  Clear?  We will be married in eight or nine months.  Susan Jennings is going to be your maid of honor whether you like it or not.  And her beauty is going to put yours in the shade!  When I get finished with that girl, she’ll be ready to be chosen Miss Universe.  It could even me Miss Nude Universe if there is such a thing.”
	Wheeling on Rick he continued, “And as for you, Jackson, I don’t want to hear one more fucking word about money.  With the matrimonial concession I just won from my friend here, I’m more than happy.”
	Looking back at Ginny who had brightened appreciably he added, “I’m disappointed in you.  My darling, I don’t think you even knew it, but I did.  Susan Jennings has been the impediment to our getting married.  There is one thing that bothers me, though, and it bothers me a lot.  I’m almost certain there is still metal in her body.  We’re setting up a CAT scan to find out for sure.  But why is it still there?  What happened?”
	Rick had been watching and listening carefully.  Shaking his head in frustration he said, “I don’t know.  I did learn this morning, though, that Susan was court-martialed and dismissed from the service.  How, why, and on what charges, I have no idea.  I’m still trying to find out.  I do know that it had to have been one of the greatest miscarriages of justice in the entire military history of the United States.  I am going to get her case reopened as soon as possible.”
	After listening carefully to the two men Ginny reentered the conversation.  “I have an idea.  First, though, Rick, could you see if your guy has learned anything?”
	Rick called his security chief again and asked, “Brad, what did you find out?”
	“Chief, you stepped into something.  Is it important?” he asked.
	“It is the most important thing in my entire life,” he replied.  “Now what’s the story?”
	“The story is that there is no story,” the man replied.  “I can’t find out a single thing except that it apparently did happen about as you suspected.  Everything else is up for grabs.
	“I can’t even find out for sure where it happened, although I’m pretty sure it was at Subic Bay.  But, Boss, these things are all supposed to be a matter of public record.”  He paused for a moment and then continued, “I do know one thing, though.  The name, Susan Jennings, is poison!  I started by playing dumb.  I said it was a standard pre-hiring check and was told not to hire her — for any position!  Christ, Chief, I never got that strong a reaction when I was checking on a convicted murderer.  Something is very odd... and for my money, very wrong.”
	Rick told the other two what he had just learned.  Looking at Ginny he asked, “Okay, what’s your idea?”
	Looking at them very seriously she said, “I suspected something like this.  Let’s face it, Rick.  You and I have been turning over every rock for years trying to find out anything.  We couldn’t even find out if she was alive.  Now you learn that any employment check gets a flat no.  Your security chief is right, too.  Hell, there are convicted child molesters driving school buses, so when an official government agency — the United States Navy, yet!  — says ‘Hell, no!’, who’s going to argue?
	“Mike, what is your professional opinion of Susan’s health right now?  Specifically, is she in shape to meet the press at a press conference?  Could she take the physical strain?”
	Chapman swallowed hard, shook his head and said slowly, “That is the toughest girl I have ever seen.  The short answer is that I believe she can.  But I don’t know if she would be willing.  Why don’t you ask her?”
	Entering the house, Ginny went to the guest room where Susan was now sound asleep and opened the curtains slightly to admit a little light.  When she sat on the edge of the bed, the slight additional weight was enough to awaken the girl.  As soon as Susan realized where she was, she tried to scramble out of the bed.
	Cameron held her back and, as she did, was appalled at how emaciated the girl was.  “How do you feel, Sue?” she asked softly.  “And are you up to meeting a few people this afternoon?  And following my lead with them, regardless?”
	Susan just smiled and stretched.  “Ginny, this bed is so utterly delicious!  And I feel so much better now.  Pretty soon — tomorrow, maybe — I’ll be ready to go to work for you.  But what would you like me to do?  I think I could be a pretty good lady’s maid.  I can bathe you and help you dress and... and... help get you prepared to receive Dr. Chapman.”  Her eyes sparkled as she continued, “I’ll bet he’s just great with you in bed, isn’t he?”
	Suddenly Susan reddened as she realized what she had just said.  In a subdued voice she finished, “Would you like me to wear a uniform?”
	Tears began to flow unchecked down Ginny’s cheeks.  With a shake of her head she exclaimed, “I don’t know what Rick Jackson told you or why!  But that’s about enough of this ridiculous nonsense.  You are my house guest.”  She stopped, looked up at the ceiling and shook her head.  “No, that’s not right, either.  Let me say it differently:  Susan, this place and everything in it are yours.  I will sign over my bank accounts to you and give you everything I own.  You work for me?  The very idea is ludicrous.  What idiocy!”
	With green flame coming from her eyes Ginny concluded, “Now, once and for all, knock off this shit and answer my question.  Do you feel able to meet with some people a little later this afternoon?”
	All the while Ginny had been speaking, Susan had just been steadily shaking her head from side to side.  When Ginny finished, she said, “You can’t be serious.  The answer is that of course I will meet with your friends.  Ginny, I belong to you.  I will do absolutely anything and everything you ever ask of me.  So the answer is, of course!
	“Beyond that, we’ll talk.  But I will not accept charity.  If you will not allow me to work for you, I’ll have to go back to the street.”
	Ginny was still sitting on the edge of the bed.  Now the flow of tears gave way to hopeless-sounding weeping.
	Susan, remembering the starving girl in the POW camp who only hours away from death by starvation could still joke, was shocked.  With her eyes wide she asked, “What did I say, Ginny?  I didn’t mean to hurt you.  I’ve always tried as hard as I could to protect you from any hurt.  What did I do?”
	Ginny just yanked the covers off Susan’s emaciated body exposing the still-very-prominent scars from the bullwhip.  “You sure did, didn’t you?” she cried.  “Darling Susan, these scars should all have been mine.  Of course, it wouldn’t have made much difference, because I would have been dead, right?  I could not have survived, could I?”  Susan started to shake her head when Ginny took her by the shoulders, shook her and screamed, “Could I?”
	Susan, totally bewildered, just shook her head as she looked at her dearest friend with tears streaming out of control down her cheeks.  “But you won’t let me do anything for you, will you?” Ginny demanded.  “Nothing!  All I hear is this... this insanity... about being my maid.  My maid, for God’s sake!
	“Susan Jennings, you don’t seem to understand that my life has value to me even if it has none for you.  You gave me my life, but you refuse to allow me the tiniest expression of my gratitude.  Jennings, you are just incredibly selfish!  I just want you to think about that.”
	With that Ginny stormed out of the bedroom slamming the door behind her.  As the door closed, Susan was still sitting on the bed with a totally bewildered expression on her face as tears still flowed down her cheeks.
	Ginny ran out on the terrace sobbing uncontrollably with tears running unchecked down her cheeks.
	Mike Chapman took her in his arms and held her close as she cried like her heart was broken.  While he held her close he saw Susan, now dressed, padding barefoot out on the terrace after her.  “What’s wrong, my darling?” Mike asked softly with his mouth almost in Ginny’s ear.  “What happened?”
	Ginny’s voice, although muffled by his shoulder, was still clear.  “Mike, I love that girl so damned much!  Every time I look at her I want to cry.  I want to do everything for her, because I love her so much, but she won’t let me do anything!  Nothing at all!”
	Then pulling away from Chapman’s shoulder she glared at Rick Jackson and declared, “And it’s your fault, too, God damn it!  Jackson, what was this idiocy of Susan being my maid?  She got the idea from you, you idiot!  Now what am I going to do?” she asked with her fists on her hips and green fire streaming from her eyes in Rick’s direction.
	“Kick me in the ass, please?” Susan said softly from behind her.
	Hearing her, Ginny spun around and saw Susan with her eyes wide and a very sheepish little smile on her lips.  She continued softly, “That’s something you could do.  But please be careful.  I’m so bony — there’s no padding left at all — that you would probably hurt your foot.”  With a plaintive little smile she concluded, “Ginny, can you ever forgive me?”
	With an exasperated shake of her head Ginny gathered up the frail girl and sat down beside her on a love seat.  “There you go again!” she complained.  “Can I forgive you?  Sue, please just say that you’ll stay here with me?  I’m not making a film right now, and I have all kinds of time.  I will visit you in the hospital after Mike operates.  He has already scheduled two sets of operations.”
	Glaring at Susan she continued, “And right now he is so damned mad he might carve his initials in both of us.  I’ve never seen him as mad as you made him this morning.  You started it, too, when you said he couldn’t operate because he was the best and you couldn’t afford him.  I offered him anything if he would operate,” she said and then with a little grin, “Even my no-longer-virginal body.  Then your friend, Rick Jackson, who, by the way, made Forbes top ten among the richest people in the United States, said he could have anything at all.”
	Glaring at Susan she asked, “What do you suppose Mike replied?”
	Susan’s eyes were wide with wonder.  She could only shake her head.
	“I think his response was something like, ‘Fuck you all!’” Ginny continued.  “He’s doing it for no fee.  Except one,” she added with a little smile.  “I am going to marry him, but I was hoping to do that anyway.  Now, Susan Jennings, do you have any problem with Dr. Michael Chapman, FAAPS, operating to remove those ugly scars?”
	With a kaleidoscope of emotions racing across her face, Susan just slowly shook her head and finally said, “Do you mean to say he was mad — at me!”
	Dr. Chapman spoke up.  “You’re damned right I’m mad at you.  Of all the stinking nerve!  You save the life of the girl I love more than anyone in the world — a girl I love more than life itself.  A girl who wouldn’t marry me — and I’m not sure she even knows this herself — because she was trying to find you.

	“If Ginny Cameron is more important to me than my life, you, Susan Jennings, are similarly more important to her.  She utterly adores you!  And then you have the nerve to refuse to let me operate because I’m too expensive.  The hell I’m too expensive.”
	Wheeling around toward Rick he demanded, “Jackson, give me a dollar!”
	Rick looked bewildered but gave Mike a dollar bill.  “Okay,” he said, almost to himself.  “Now you’re prepaid.  Jennings, you are a nurse.  Do you think ten cents a scar is too much?  If you do, I’ll refund the difference.”  Glaring at her he demanded, “Well?  What do you say?”
	Susan could say nothing.  All she did was continue to slowly shake her head as if she were trying to clear it.  Finally she said softly, “I give up.  I seem to be insulting people left and right this morning by refusing help.”
	With a very bright smile she continued, “So thank you, Dr. Chapman.  It would make me very happy for you to operate on me and remove these scars.”  Her smile was the first real smile they had seen.  Now Susan’s face just glowed with pleasure.
	Returning the smile, Ginny picked up the phone.  Reaching a studio publicist, she announced a press conference at her estate for that afternoon.  Then she gave the woman a list of the media people she wanted to have invited.  When the publicist responded that there wasn’t enough time and, besides, she was booked for the afternoon, Ginny acidly replied that it was fine because she wasn’t invited, anyway.  She slammed down the phone and just glared at it.
	Moments later it rang.  The woman had called the studio front office in a panic and the studio president was on the line for Marcia Matthews.  Ginny just passed the receiver to Rick while Susan watched in bewilderment, not understanding anything that was going on.
	Taking the phone Rick said, “Charley, this is Rick Jackson.  You know who I am, I hope.  Now what’s the problem?”
	“Well, yes, sir.  I certainly know the name,” came the reply.  “But what do you have to do with Marcia Matthews?”
	“I don’t have very much to do with Marcia, Charley, but I have a great deal to do with you.”  After a very slight but pregnant pause Rick continued, “Who owns the studio, Charley?”
	“Why... Why a conglomerate of some kind,” the president stammered.  “I see a vice president of the company nearly every month.  I think it’s called Arjay Enterprises, or something like that...”
	“It’s easy enough for you to check, Charley,” Rick interrupted, “and frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t done it long before now.  I would think you would be more than mildly curious about who it is who’s signing your paychecks.  If you did check, though, you would find that Arjay is derived from initials...  Mine!  In other words, Charley, I own the joint.  Now what, exactly, did you want to speak to Marcia Matthews about?”

	“Well, sir, it’s this press conference thing.  I mean we try to humor our big stars, but...”
	“Charley, you are humoring me!  If you don’t, you’re through, effective immediately.  In just a few minutes your replacement will be taking over your office and he or she will.  Am I making myself clear?” Jackson demanded.
	After a momentary pause he continued, speaking almost to himself, “You know, one of the nice things about owning the joint is that I can make things happen once in a while.  Now Marcia gave that broad a list of people she wants to have out here this afternoon.  I certainly hope she took good and complete notes.  Because, Charley, if they are not all out here, you will both be looking for jobs.”  After another pause he concluded, “You know, I think today would be a good day for you and your friend to call in your chits.  All of them!  Understood?”  With that he slammed down the receiver.
	Susan’s eyes were wide and she was shaking her head.  “Richard Jackson, you were terrible!  You terrified that poor man.  I have never seen you act mean to a living soul before, but you were awful!”
	“He’s not poor,” Rick replied with a grin.  “I pay him half-a-mil a year plus bonuses.  On the other hand, your auburn-haired friend here has made almost $75 million for me last year alone.  Given a choice...  That’s irrelevant, though.  Sue, you are more important to me than life itself.  No one — no one — is going to get in the way of you receiving all the help you need.”
	Then with a wry grin he continued, “Besides, you haven’t taken the trouble to get to know me very well.”  Looking at her with love in his eyes he said, “Do you realize you have only known me for about four weeks — total!  And that has been spread over more than four years.”
	The four sat on the pool terrace and discussed arrangements for the afternoon press conference.  Before they got started in their talk Rick was on the phone to his security chief who gave him the information he was looking for before the press conference opened.
	While he was talking, Mike Chapman was studying Susan carefully and began to feel better.  She had reflected on the things both Rick and Ginny had said to her and already she was feeling better.  To Mike she seemed to blossom like a flower in the sunshine.
	But then Chapman kicked Ginny in the foot and whispered, “Just because you’ve started to brag about now being big enough to start thinking about a diet, there are others here who need to eat... and eat often!”
	Ginny Cameron was chagrined.  Going out to the kitchen she asked Maria, her Mexican cook, to prepare huevos rancheros — a spicy Mexican egg dish.  Susan tried it and liked it very much.  When Ginny asked her if it wasn’t too spicy, perhaps, Susan’s response was that she was used to eating anything edible and more than a few things that weren’t.
	Maria served Susan another small meal just before the press conference was due to begin.

Chapter 4
	The press began to arrive at the estate shortly before the appointed hour.  Ginny was pleased to see that two of the network-affiliated Los Angeles television stations had sent out film crews.  Moreover, in addition to the usual motion picture industry reporters, there were a few from the regular news desks.
	Chairs had been set up on the pool terrace for the conference.  A rostrum with a microphone was set up in front.  Taking her position there, Ginny opened the session.  “Good afternoon, everyone.  Thank you so much for coming.  I am Marcia Matthews,” she said with a warm smile.  “The reason for this press conference has nothing to do with motion pictures, but a great deal to do with me.  As many of you know, my real name is Virginia Cameron, known to my friends as Ginny.  I’m a newcomer here to Hollywood.  In fact, aside from believing myself to have been incredibly lucky, I’m still not sure how I got here.
	“Before arriving in Hollywood, I was an officer in the Army serving in Vietnam.  Over five years ago I was captured by the enemy when a helicopter in which I was traveling was forced down.  I was held in a prisoner-of-war camp for over a year.  Near the end of my stay I met a person who I want you all to meet today.”
	Ginny paused, backed away from the rostrum and stood with her head up straight.  Only then did the reporters realize there were tears flowing in twin streams from her eyes.  Then she said, “Before I continue, though, I am going to do something I have never done before.  I am going to rely on your discretion about what you see and how you might use what you see and hear here today.  Of course, the news judgment is entirely in your hands.  I cannot and will not stop you from using it in any way you see fit.  I have been candid with you in the past,” she said with a warm smile, “and you have never let me down.  I am counting on you again today.”
	Ginny took a deep breath and continued, “Now for the ‘first’.  I am going to pass out the first nude pictures ever taken of me.  In a sense they are pornographic — what they depict is obscene.  I will come back to that after you have a chance to see them.”
	Then she passed out full-color photographs of herself — front and side views — taken in the hospital immediately following her rescue from the POW camp and return to Saigon.  All that was recognizable as Virginia Cameron was the hair color and the intense emerald-green eyes.
	Mike Chapman, as a plastic surgeon, could recognize Ginny in the pictures but even he gasped.
	“That’s sort of how I looked when I first met the person I referred to earlier,” Ginny continued, “Except, thanks to her, I weighed about five pounds more in the pictures than when the two of us first met.”
	Looking around the group of reporters she asked rhetorically, “Are these pictures pornographic?  I think they are.  They certainly depict man’s inhumanity to man.  But God knows I was not in a sexy pose.  In fact, it’s no pose at all.  Although it’s been quite awhile since I saw these photos last, I can still remember when they were taken.  The photographer wasn’t sure I could even stand up unsupported.  I could.  At any rate, after I was released from the hospital, I slowly regained my weight, and then — as we love to say here in Hollywood — the rest is history.
	“Now I want to tell you about the other person.  Her name is Susan Jennings.  While I was waiting for you to arrive, I was thinking about my remarks, and so I was trying to think of appropriate words to describe my relationship to her.”
	Ginny’s eyes were flowing with tears now and her voice broke, but she recovered enough to continue, “All I could come up with was a line from the Gospel of St. John, ‘Greater love hath no man than he who lays down his life for a friend.’  Well,” Ginny continued while using every ounce of her remaining willpower to continue to speak, “I guess Susan must be my friend.  She literally laid down her life to save mine.  Susan, would you please come up here?”
	Susan walked up to the front of the area and joined Ginny.  Rick brought up a chair for her to sit on since Mike had urged her to remain seated as much as possible.  “This is Susan Jennings,” Ginny Cameron continued.  “When I first met her, I was literally hours away from death.  I remember vividly what happened next.  Susan had traded her bra to a guard for food bars.  The bars were taken from Red Cross parcels we were supposed to get but never did.  You see, the way things worked in the camp was that girls traded their clothing for food.  When there was no more clothing, they traded their bodies.  A couple of us were probably fools.  We decided it was better to go hungry.
	“I am here to tell you that starving to death is not a pleasant way to go.  I didn’t go the sex route.  When I realized I was going to die and changed my mind, it was too late.  By then I no longer had a body left to sell.  Since all the prisoners were in the same boat — starving — it was live and let live.  Or, more accurately, die and let die.  The only way someone could help another was by going without.
	“That is exactly what Susan Jennings did for her entire stay in that prison camp.  She went without so that other prisoners might survive.  To put it into perspective, I was imprisoned there for more than a year, while Susan was there less than three months.  Nonetheless, when we were rescued, she weighed even less than I did.  On the other hand, there were probably at least fifty more prisoners still alive than there would have been without her.”
	Although tears were still flowing, Ginny had now regained control.  Standing up as straight as she could with her shoulders back and her tits upthrust she looked incredibly beautiful.  The news people were all hanging on her words.  Clearly, this was a very different Hollywood press conference.
	“On that first day, Susan Jennings brought a nutrition bar over to me.  She fed it to me a tiny piece at a time.  She just put a tiny piece in my mouth, let it melt, and then did it again.  She continued until the bar was all gone.  Susan saved my life.  And there was so much more.  One day Susan took on thirty camp guards sexually one right after the other.  Why?  To get some medicine to try to save the lives of some of our dying men.
	“Finally, there was the last day.  The guards ordered us to assemble in the center of the compound.  I never did know why.  At any rate, I fell trying to get up.  The guard indicated I was to get ten lashes with his bullwhip.  My thought was that at least it would be a faster death than starvation.  But the next thing I knew, Susan’s body was extended over mine, covering it.  She was doing what amounted to a pushup to keep her weight off me.  I could hear the whip crack and slice into her body.  After five lashes the guard ordered her to turn over.  Then she bridged her body — sort of an upside-down pushup — and held it while the whip cut into her five more times.  She cringed at the cuts but didn’t fall on me as the whip sliced into her flesh.  Meanwhile, I was below her with the blood from her back dripping onto my body.  When it was all over, she was ordered to be crucified!”
	Now Ginny’s eyes were blazing with an emerald fire.  The TV cameras were rolling and the still photographers were taking their pictures.  Ginny looked like an Amazon warrior at that moment.  “You heard me right.  Crucified!  Sue looked at the cross and knew it was for her.  She gave me the last item of her clothing, the shirt off her back, with the comment that she wouldn’t be needing it any more.
	“They hung her from the cross.  They did not nail her to it the way the Romans did it two thousand years ago.  They tied her to it.  For reasons I won’t go into, it is just as lethal with rope.  That was the last time I saw Susan Jennings until this morning,” Ginny concluded.  The tears were now uncontrolled but she was able to gasp out, “She was hanging on that cross, dying for me!”
	Ginny took a couple of deep breaths to try to regain control.  Then she reached below the rostrum, pulled out a khaki uniform shirt and opened it out.  “I found this in the back of one of my drawers today,” she said.  “It is the shirt Susan Jennings was wearing that day.  You can even read the name inside the collar, neatly stenciled in indelible ink, JENNINGS.  This morning I found something else I had never noticed before.”
	Opening the shirt, she spread it over the front of the rostrum so the reporters could see more clearly and pointed out marks on the shirt that appeared to be rust stains.  “These look like rust stains, don’t they?” she asked.  “They are not.  It is Susan’s blood.  It dripped off her back onto me as I lay on the ground beneath her.  Then it must have been soaked up by Susan’s shirt when I put it on as she was being hung on the cross.”
	Turning to Susan she said quietly, “Sue, please take off all your clothes.”
	Without a moment’s hesitation, Susan dropped her skirt, shrugged off her blouse and stood before the group completely naked.  There was an audible gasp as the reporters and cameramen saw the vivid scars crisscrossing her body.  “You see the scars from that bullwhip,” Ginny continued.  “I am asking if there is a photographer here today who can photograph her body better than that sailor was able to photograph mine in Saigon.
	“You see, beginning tomorrow, Susan will have a series of operations to try to erase those scars.  But I don’t want them forgotten.  There is some unfinished business here.  I heard gasps from many of you when you first saw Susan’s body.  I don’t know if you were reacting to the scars, to her emaciated condition, or to both.  You see, Susan Jennings is the reason I invited you all out here today.  There are a number of unanswered questions.  I will list some and my friends will add to the list.
	“First, why is she still scarred?  Why wasn’t she cared for in a naval hospital after she was rescued?  We just learned today that she was dismissed from the service.  That is the equivalent of a dishonorable discharge but applicable to officers.  How, when, where, and for what reason was she court-martialed?  Only a general court-martial can order dismissal, but we cannot find out anything.  Keep in mind, the record of trial is a public document.  Why is it hidden?”
	Turning to her side where Mike was now waiting she continued, “I would like my fiancé, Mike Chapman, to speak to you.  As some of you may know, Mike is a plastic surgeon practicing here in Los Angeles.”
	One of the reporters asked, “Is this Dr. Michael Chapman?”  When Ginny nodded agreement, the reporter spoke for the benefit of his colleagues, “For those of you who may not know it, Dr. Chapman is generally regarded as the finest plastic surgeon in Southern California, and many believe he is the finest in the world.  Doctor?”
	“Thank you very much.  With my surgical team I am going to begin operating on Susan Jennings tomorrow.  I can’t tell you how long the whole process will take nor how successful it will ultimately turn out to be.  But we are going to try like hell.  On the other hand, I will also say that this surgery should have been undertaken years ago, almost immediately upon her release.  What should have happened was she should have been physically built up from her starvation and then operated on.  The probability of successful surgery was much greater then than it is now.”
	Mike Chapman took a deep breath and continued, “There’s much more, though.  In addition to the scars that are so visible, I am almost certain that she is still carrying enemy bullets in her body from the day of her rescue years ago.  We have scheduled Susan for a CAT scan later today to confirm, but I am virtually certain right now what they will reveal.  We know Susan was hit by enemy fire just before she was rescued.  It now appears that the enemy bullets were never removed.  Can you believe that?” Mike nearly screamed.  “They don’t do that with murderers, for Heaven’s sake.”  His gray eyes were fiery as he exclaimed, “Do any of you care!?”
	There was a growling sound from the assembled news people.  Evidently they did care, and some of them cared a great deal.  Meanwhile, a photographer had taken Susan away to arrange lights and reflectors to properly photograph the scars on her body.
	When Mike introduced Rick Jackson, a newsman muttered to a colleague sitting beside him, “She may not have many friends, but the ones she has have enough horsepower to move an army!”
	Rick got up in front of the group and said, “I first met Susan on the day Ginny — Marcia Matthews — just described.  I commanded the rescue unit that assaulted the camp.  It was I who cut her down from that cross.  At the time I thought I was retrieving a dead body, but when I reached her I could feel her heart still beating and then her eyes opened.  Since the evacuation was in its last stages and there wasn’t time to get her to a chopper, I carried her to a cave we had found and had used to store supplies before our assault.  On the way back up to it I was hit in the leg by a nearly-spent bullet.  We reached the cave, I put a combat dressing on the wound and then spent the next couple of days just feeding Susan.
	“Then, in spite of her own emaciated and feverish condition, she noticed that I had a fever.  Under the circumstances, I must have had a pretty good one.  Anyway, she examined my leg and prepared to operate.  You saw the picture of Ginny.  That is roughly the way Susan looked except that those whip cuts across her body were new.  There is one you may have noticed that runs across her breast that was nearly half-an-inch deep.  Nevertheless, she operated on me one night using our first-aid kit and a gasoline lantern.
	“When I asked a surgeon about the wound later, his reaction was that it should have been reasonably routine for a well-trained surgical team in a military hospital.  When I explained the circumstances of the surgery, he said that under such conditions successful surgery was impossible.  It flat-out could not be done!  But of course it was.”
	Rick turned, looked towards Susan and winked at her.  He was overjoyed to see her wriggle with delight and grin back at him.  God, I love this girl!  he thought.
	Turning back towards the news people he continued, “I spent the next few days explaining to Susan how our demolition toys work.  She put out all our Claymore mines and wired a road bridge with demolition charges.  Just before we were due to be extracted, a patrol triggered one of the Claymores.  The next thing we knew, we were under heavy attack.”
	Rick stood back from the microphone for a moment and shook his head as he remembered.  Then he continued, “What does Susan Jennings do?  Well, she blows the bridge.  As neat a job as I have ever seen, by the way.  She blew off both ends and the span just dropped into the river.  She timed the explosion so she could take two enemy tanks along with the span itself.  Then she opens up with machine-gun fire.  I didn’t keep my head down the way I should have, so I take a big hit with shrapnel from a mortar round.  My sergeant told me later that she went berserk and charged the enemy with grenades and an Armalite.
	“When the detail arrived, they counted seventy-seven bodies, not counting the tank crews and the infantry carried away with the blown bridge.  When the choppers got us all back to Saigon, Susan was whisked off and I was evacuated back to Pearl Harbor.  That is all I know — from back then.
	“Today, I found out a few more things.  Someone in Washington is out to make Susan Jennings’ life miserable.  If you try to check her references — as one of my people did earlier today — the word is, don’t hire her... for anything!  In fact, one guy tried to substitute an ex-con with three felony convictions.  So Susan is worse than a felon who is a three-time loser.  But why?
	“Another thing,” Rick Jackson continued.  “How was she court-martialed?  Who certified her as medically fit to stand trial and participate in her own defense?  What were the grounds for the court-martial?  Marcia has given you that list.
	“What I would like you to do is this: There is a toll-free telephone number that we would like to have broadcast across the entire country.  We would like to hear from anyone who was in that prison camp over the range of dates when Susan was there.  The dates will be given to you.  We want to hear from absolutely anyone!  There is another phone number at which we will accept collect calls from anywhere in California or from overseas.
	“We are trying to rectify a terrible miscarriage of justice.  I have here a sheet of paper with all of the relevant names, dates, and telephone numbers.  I hope you will use them in your stories, and I certainly hope that you do a story on today’s events and that the stories run.  Thank you for taking the time,” Rick concluded.
	While he was concluding his talk, Susan had rejoined the group and was sitting behind Rick.  When he sat down and Ginny rose to close the session, one of the reporters asked if Susan would answer a few questions.  Ginny looked at Susan who smiled and nodded her head vigorously.  Susan rose and took Ginny’s place behind the microphone.
	One of the reporters asked how she had been captured.  “I was in our operating room and something hit the roof,” she replied.  “The next thing I knew I was in the POW camp.  I don’t even know how long I was there before I regained my senses.”  Looking around the area she asked, “Any more?”
	Another reporter rose and asked, “Miss Jennings, Mr. Jackson says you were reported as going berserk.  Do you remember it?  If so, what happened?”
	She grimaced and said, “I remember some of it.  I remember seeing Rick hit with the shrapnel.  I immediately decided that I didn’t care to go on living so I might as well take as many of them with me as I could.  I may have been out to avenge Rick as well.  It was really a pretty stupid thing to do, I’m afraid.”
	A reporter from a TV station asked, “Susan, it’s pretty obvious that your friends are working very hard for you.  In light of their efforts, what are your thoughts?”
	“I don’t really have any,” Susan responded.  “Until a couple of days ago I was just wandering around LA, being rousted constantly.  Finally I was able to contact Mr. Jackson and suddenly everything changed.  It appears that I have some very good friends who want to take care of me.  There is really nothing more I can say.”
	The reporter followed up with another question.  “Miss Matthews believes you saved her life in the prison camp.  Do you feel that you did?”
	“No, I really don’t,” Susan replied in a decisive tone of voice.  “She saved herself.  I did a couple of little things to try to help her, I suppose, but that’s all.”
	Then Susan smiled an incredibly warm smile that instantly won over the audience and continued, “I remember vividly the first time I met Virginia Cameron.  She was in terrible shape — professionally, I gave her only hours to live — yet she could still crack a joke.  I said something stupid like, ‘Haven’t you carried your diet a little far,’ and she came back with, ‘I think I can still lose a couple of more pounds.’  That is an indomitable spirit we cannot afford to lose.  I just helped a little,” Susan concluded.
	The reporter persisted, “Did you cover her body with your own to protect her from the guard’s bullwhip?”  Susan nodded.  “Why?”
	“Because a whipping would have killed her,” Susan replied.  “I thought I could make it.  And as you can see, I did,” she concluded with another smile.
	At that point the entire group rose to applaud while the TV announcers spoke quietly into their microphones.  There were few dry eyes in the crowd as they did.  In a short time the press had left and Ginny asked Maria to bring out more food for “the starving one.”
	Maria, who was close to two-hundred pounds, took it as a personal challenge to put some meat on Susan’s bones.
	The four were now sitting around the table beside the pool when Susan looked longingly at Rick and then said sadly, “Rick, could you do me a very great favor?  You have only seen me as a physical wreck.  Would it be possible for you not to see me for a while?  I’ve seen some of these plastic surgeons’ work and it usually gets much worse before it gets any better.  I... I... I don’t want to lose you forever, Rick.”
	She smiled at him warmly and he could see that her eyes were full of tears.  She was just moments away from breaking down completely.  Nevertheless, she continued, “I must admit, though, you’re awfully hard to discourage.”
	Before responding to her request, there was one question Rick had to ask: “Susan, girls have been making a living on their backs for a long time.  You used your body to help others survive in prison.  Why did you starve here in Los Angeles, now?”
	Looking steadily directly into his eyes Susan replied, “There are two reasons.  First, I kept hoping, ‘Today will be the day.’  I had no such hope in Vietnam.  Second, I have not been with a man since you.”
	As Rick remembered their one time together, his eyes misted and he could scarcely talk.  He just shook hands with Mike and kissed Ginny Cameron on the cheek.  “Take good care of her, please?  But I’m sure you will.”
	Then he crouched beside Susan’s chair and took her head in his hands.  Turning her face toward himself, he could see the tears now streaming from her eyes.  Then he kissed her tenderly on the lips.  It was a kiss full of love and promise, and again he heard the bells.
	Jumping up, he went through the house and out the front door.  Sitting behind the wheel of his car, he waited for the tears to abate enough for him to see to be able to drive.

Chapter 5
	That evening Mike and Ginny drove Susan to the hospital where the CAT scan was scheduled.  When they arrived, Mike was joined by a friend, John Roberts, a top general surgeon.  The two doctors met the radiologist-CAT operator in the control booth and Mike told him where to start looking.  Almost instantly the CAT revealed three imbedded bullets in Susan’s right side and shoulder.
	Roberts did not believe his eyes.  “Mike, I was wondering what you have been smoking when you called me,” he said.  “These bullets are easily operable — or were.  I have never seen or heard of anyone leaving military service with removable enemy metal still in them.  No one!  Ever!
	Turning to the CAT operator he said, “Hal, can you get me the exact coordinates on those three?  I want to look at her and then maybe get some x-rays.”
	Chapman had arranged for the best room in the hospital for Susan now that she was his patient.  Although the administrator had screamed, Mike had merely pointed out that his patients were always in the best room so there was no problem.  When Susan was wheeled back into her room, Mike and Ginny were waiting for her.  Ginny had already taken charge.  After checking Susan’s hospital schedule with Mike she had made some special arrangements.  A few minutes later one of her friends, Jim Reading, a top Hollywood hair stylist came in.
	Like Mike Chapman, he was used to recognizing raw material.  He could see that Susan could be even more beautiful than Ginny when she recovered, and he said so.
	He thought he might provoke a reaction from Ginny and did, but not the one he expected: “Oh, Jim!  Do you really think so?” she exclaimed.  “I do, too, but I’m prejudiced.”
	The hair designer was baffled but Mike whispered to him to watch the late news on TV or read the papers in the morning.
	Then Jim took Susan over to the sink and his assistants descended in force.  Mike thought they were trying to drown his patient but Ginny said, “It’s good for you to see this, Mike.  It’s some of the garbage you are going to rescue me from.”  She looked at him lovingly and said, “Michael, darling, I am going to be making babies for us as fast as I can.  Do I have to keep on working in films, too?”
	Mike took her into his arms and melted his lips on hers.  After easing away and regaining her breath, Ginny looked over at Susan and said, “She’ll live — through that, anyway.”  He kissed her again, more hungrily this time.  She whispered, “I thought I took good care of you already today.”
	“But that was this morning,” he complained.  Then he whispered in her ear, “And in the meantime I’ve made all kinds of warm cum to flood your insides.  Interested?”
	Ginny made warm noises deep in her body and rubbed her body against his now-engorged cock and muttered, “Yum!  I can hardly wait.”
	“I adore you, my darling,” Mike said.
	Then he told Ginny about the bullets in Susan’s body.  “Honey, that girl must be in continuous agony.  And yet she almost moves as if there is no problem.  You only notice it if you carefully look at her movements on each side independently.”  Shaking his head he continued, “You know, John Roberts admits he only came over to humor a friend.  He just flat could not believe a veteran could be discharged with removable bullets still in her body.  Now he believes, and it’s not at all funny.  He is going over some x-rays that were just taken and then will be joining us.  We are going to go in together.  Given where the bullets are, I’m assuming he’ll be going in from the front.  That poor girl is really going to get a working over.”
	Jim Reading and his people left to be replaced by Penny Watts, a senior makeup artist.  The woman looked over Susan very carefully and finally nodded her head decisively just once.  Turning on Ginny she pretended to glare and said, “Marcia Matthews, for chrissakes will you quit wasting my time.  This girl could use a manicure.  She needs some sunshine — she’s too pale.  She could wear a little lipstick if she wants to really go hog-wild.  Full stop!”  Penny just shook her head and continued, “Marcia, she is going to be utterly gorgeous.  I thought you were the last of the makeup artist’s dreams, but now there’s another: her.  But where in heaven’s name did you find her?  And what are you two playing in?  I assume you’re both starring in the same film, aren’t you?  And could I please get the assignment?  Please?”
	Ginny just smiled and replied, “Susan is not even in the business, Penny.  She is here for some very serious surgery.  But could someone give her that manicure you mentioned?  I think it would cheer her up.”  The woman smiled and made a thumbs-up sign.  Moments later a manicurist came in and started to work on Susan’s hands.
	By the time she finished, John Roberts had joined them and waiters from Maxim’s produced a catered dinner for the foursome.  They were seated around a rolling table with Susan wearing her new bathrobe.  She looked beautiful with her hair now glistening with its natural highlights.
	“How do you feel, Sue?” Ginny asked.  “Is there anything else you want?  Anything at all?”
	Susan smiled warmly and slowly shook her head.  “Ginny, everything is just perfect.  I can’t thank you enough.”  Then the smile turned into a very cute grin as she added, “Miss Cameron, could I make a short video tape?  With me kneeling on the floor and bowing until my forehead touches, thanking you?  That way when these things come along, one right after another, I can just point to the VCR, roll the tape, and save a lot of wear and tear on a bod that can’t take a whole lot more right now.”
	Ginny just delighted at her good spirits and the return of her sense of humor.  Susan continued, “I have just one question, though.  How much did you have to pay those people, and how much rehearsal time was required for them to get their lines down?  That is the right phrase, isn’t it?  ‘Getting the lines down’?”  Ginny looked at her puzzled.  Susan explained, “You know, Ginny!  All that garbage about my hair, makeup, and the rest.  It was a real hoot!”
	Finally realizing what Susan was talking about, it was Ginny’s turn to shake her head and laugh.  “I hate to ruin your day, honey,” she said, “but it was all honest.  Jim Reading was in absolute raptures over your hair.  When he was leaving he asked me to tell you that he would consider it a personal favor if you would allow him to continue to handle your hair styling.  That’s not bullshit, either.  You’re not in the trade, so you may not know that Jim has four or five Oscars for hair styling.  He’s considered the very best in the business.  Oh, it’s all free, by the way.  He says women like you are great advertising for him.”
	Ginny laughed again as Susan’s jaw dropped.  She exclaimed, “You can’t be serious!  If you are, he’s crazy!  He’s nuts!  Certifiably insane!  Me?”
	Ginny was now laughing so hard she could no longer even talk.  All she could do was to vigorously nod her head up and down while she howled with laughter and tried to regain control.
	Finally she was able to say, “My darling Susan, that is the highest praise there is.  Honest.  Ask Mike.  Those people know heads and faces.  They are real pros.  They see the structure and the raw material.  If you ever want to really roll on the floor laughing, just get a group of hair stylists and makeup people together talking about the stars they have worked on.  Talk about seeing it warts and all!  And they will be delighted to tell you exactly were every wart is and describe it in detail.”
	Susan just shook her head in disbelief and turned to the other doctor.  Her face grew serious as she asked, “Dr. Roberts, what’s the word?  I guess the bullets have to come out, don’t they?”
	Roberts was developing an appreciation for the incredible courage of this girl.  “Miss Jennings,” he replied, “they have to come out.  You’re in constant pain, aren’t you?”
	In response Susan shrugged her shoulders.  When she did Ginny saw what Mike had seen earlier.  Her right shoulder moved differently from her left.  “It’s okay, Doctor,” Susan replied.  “I’m used to it, anyway.”
	Roberts raised an eyebrow and looked at her skeptically.  “Young lady, you are lying.  Should I get a dolorometer?”
	Susan’s eyes widened and she said softly, “No, Doctor.  Please don’t waste your time.”  Then she tried to grin and continued, “I give up.  I guess it does hurt pretty bad.  But I really am used to it, though.”
	Hearing of a dolorometer, Ginny whispered a question to Mike asking what a dolorometer is.  He explained it was a machine that measured pain.  It was attached to a part of the body away from the suspected pain source.  Then the pain was increased until the patient could feel the machine-induced pain rather than the internal — or external — pain source.  Based on Susan’s reaction, the pain must be continuous and agonizing.
	Mike turned to John and asked, “Which way are you going in?  From the front?”  Roberts nodded.  “Okay,” Mike said, “How do you feel about it, Sue?  You’re a nurse so you know what’s coming up.”
	Susan smiled ruefully, nodded her head and said, “I guess I’ll manage.  And thanks, guys.”  Turning to Roberts she said, “Doctor, I haven’t had a chance to even talk to you.  I guess you’re going to take out the metal, but I really don’t have any money yet.  So... So could... could...” Susan stammered, “Could you submit your bill in sort of bite-sized pieces?”
	John Roberts looked at her with tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  His voice cracked when he asked, “Susan, do you have a penny?”
	She was puzzled but looked in her purse.  It was part of a brand-new outfit Rick had given her.  There was a loaded change purse in it.  She took out a penny and gave it to him.
	Looking at her solemnly, he carefully put it in his pocket.  “Do you need a receipt for tax purposes, Susan?” he asked.   “You are now prepaid in full for the surgery.  Thank you very much for your prompt payment.”
	“Dr. Roberts, you can’t be serious!” Susan exclaimed.  “You... you’re famous!  I owe you,” she insisted.
	“Like hell you do!” he instantly responded.  “I happen to know what you’re paying Mike Chapman.  I just scaled my fees to his.  If he’s getting ten cents per scar, even one cent for a few stray bullets is much too much.”
	Looking at her intently now he asked, “How did you get them, by the way?  They have obviously been there for quite a while.”
	Ginny quickly told him the story of the prison camp, the crucifixion, the breakout and the aftermath.  She watched his tears start to flow uncontrolled as he realized his patient had carried the bullets in her body for almost four years.  Reaching into his wallet he took out a ten-dollar bill and gave it to Susan.  “I made one of my usual billing mistakes, Miss Jennings.  This is your overpayment, refunded.”
	Looking at her closely, he nodded his head and said, “Susan, I owe you more than mere money.  You are a credit to this country, to the nursing profession, and to the human race.  I consider it a great honor and privilege to be allowed to operate on you.  Believe me when I say it is worth a very great deal to me.”
	Susan studied his face very carefully and finally realized that Roberts was totally serious.  Tears started to flow down her cheeks and she stammered, “Thank you, Doctor.  I don’t know what to say except thank you.  It’s inadequate, I know, but... but...  Thanks.”
	He kissed her on the cheek and said he would see her in the operating room the next morning.
* * *
	While Ginny was waiting for Susan to be brought back to her room from the recovery room the next afternoon, Mike came in looking for her.  When he entered, Ginny was scared and gasped in dismay when she saw tears running down his cheeks.
	“What happened, darling?  What went wrong?” she asked while a sense of pure panic threatened to overwhelm her.  Something had gone terribly wrong with the operation.
	Mike just shook his head and said finally, “Those bastards!  And I’m talking about my surgical team, darling.  Susan is fine.  But those idiots saw the TV news last night that we missed.  Anyway, there was a big story about Susan and her wounds.  When they learned that she was our patient today they refused to submit bills or to accept any payment at all.  They are working for nothing — every damned one of them!  Even Carmen Garçia, for God’s sake, and she is supporting three children.  Even though she desperately needs every penny, she flat refused!”
	At that, Mike completely lost control.  He was on his knees with his head cradled in Ginny’s lap while she stroked him and made soothing sounds to comfort him.
	Later Ginny was sitting in a chair beside Susan’s bed.  The girl’s body was bandaged like a mummy’s and she was just coming out from the anaesthesia.  When Ginny saw Susan blink and open her eyes, she went to the bedside with a glass of water and gave her some through a straw.  Susan just smiled her gratitude.
	“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Ginny asked softly.
	“Since you ask,” Susan replied hoarsely, “I feel like I’ve just been run over by a truck.  And, Virginia Cameron, I am giving you fair warning right now.  Your fiancé is a sadist.”  With her eyes wide and with a completely straight face, she continued, “It was painful for me, Ginny, but I found out in time.  You should immediately throw Michael Chapman out in the street and have nothing further to do with him.  Why... Why a man who would do to me what Mike just did would be whipping you every week.  He would tie you to a whipping post and stripe your back and your chest.  I have saved you again, Ginny.  Aren’t you glad?”
	“Do you really think he will?” Ginny exclaimed eagerly.  “Boy, I can hardly wait.  Just think!  Those lovely stripes on my body...  The joy of feeling him crush my wounds...”  With her eyes as wide as saucers, she repeated, “Golly, Sue, do you really think he will?”
	She had to hold Susan carefully as the girl began to laugh but at the same time aggravate her surgical wounds.  The two young women were both crying and laughing at the same time.  When she regained control, Ginny carefully stroked Susan’s forehead with a cool cloth and watched her fall asleep.
* * *
	A week later a limousine pulled up in the hospital’s driveway to pick up Susan and take her back to Ginny Cameron’s estate.  Once there she began a program of exercise, diet, and sunshine after the bandages were removed.  Meanwhile, Maria continued to feed her many times each day.  A few weeks later, after the worst of the surgical cuts on her chest and belly were sufficiently healed, she returned to the hospital where Mike operated a second time, this time on the scars on her back.  Both operations were completely successful, as was John Roberts’ operation to remove the Vietnamese bullets.  Susan even had the bullets in her top drawer.  Periodically, she and Ginny would kid about what she might be able to make out of them.
	As the long recovery process began, Susan was delighted and gave thanks to God for her association with Ginny.  The girl was a tower of strength for Susan who realized that she loved Ginny as a beloved older sister.  The girls had become utterly inseparable to such a degree that one evening Susan asked with her eyes wide if Ginny wanted her to keep her company in bed and give her advice while Mike Chapman was plowing her vaginal canal.  Both Ginny and Mike cracked up with laughter while Susan just looked from one to the other with a puzzled look on her face as if she could not understand what could possibly be so funny.
	Meanwhile, the press coverage of the Susan Jennings story increased in intensity.  There had been intense public interest and an outcry aroused by the first stories.  Responding to the public reaction and interest, the media maintained the pressure.  Rick Jackson got a call from an Orange County Congressman wanting to know what had happened.  The representative, a member of the House Armed Services Committee, talked with his chairman.  The Navy Department was contacted by a committee staffer and then all hell started to break loose.
	In addition to his masterful job feeding new information to the press, Rick was also following up on all the contacts coming in on the telephone lines in response to the stories.  In addition to recording their stories, Rick also fed juicy tidbits to the press to maintain the media pressure.  Within three weeks of the first story breaking, he had talked to virtually every person who had been held prisoner in that compound.  The stories he heard merely confirmed what he already knew from Ginny and Susan.  To a man — or woman — they offered to go anywhere to testify in Susan’s behalf.  Many refused any offer of payment, insisting on paying their own way.
	Finally, Rick put in a call to the White House.  A couple of hours later he was speaking to the President who had returned his call.  Quickly he explained the situation.  The President was aware of the Congressional inquiry and had already determined to be out in front.  This man took his rôle as Commander in Chief of the armed forces seriously.  After hearing the story, the President asked Rick if he would come to Washington to head up an investigation on his behalf.  Rick immediately agreed and was on the red-eye to Washington that night.
	Rick found the subsequent events amusing.  Or they would have been had they not had such a terrible impact on the woman he loved.  When a colonel is burying a captain — or a lieutenant in the Navy, the equivalent rank — it is not difficult.  And if the cage starts to rattle a little, everyone just holds on tight and waits for things to quiet down again.  But when the Congress and the White House become interested, the rats begin to run for cover.  Because of the mixture of services, Rick’s was a Department of Defense investigating team.
	He derived bitter amusement from the events.  Because of his shrapnel wounds Rick Jackson was now a major, United States Marine Corps, Retired.  But as chairman of the special presidential investigating committee, he outranked the Chief of Naval Operations and the Army’s Chief of Staff.  As a result, Susan’s “lost” court-martial file was quickly found.  He and his people carefully reviewed it, interviewed a number of the witnesses Rick had previously located, and then reported back to the President.
	The Secretary of Defense then ordered that a special Court of Inquiry be convened.  Miss Susan Jennings, Brigadier General Homer Black, Lieutenant Colonel Charles Simon, and Major Judith Harrison were named as parties to the inquiry.  Black, Simon, and Harrison were frozen in place.  They were not allowed to change their military status in any way pending the findings of the court of inquiry which was scheduled to convene in Los Angeles at the call of its president, a Navy vice admiral.  The court panel was composed of two- and three-star flag officers from both the army and the navy.
	Rick had occasion to meet with the court’s president, Vice Admiral Charles F. Adams, at the Pentagon.  Admiral Adams was surprised to see that the head of the investigating committee — about whom he had heard so much — was only in his early thirties.  Adams also knew that Jackson was a highly-decorated combat Marine, and was also one of the richest men in the country.  A very interesting combination, he thought.
	Rick sat down across the desk from the admiral.  “I’m Rick Jackson, Admiral Adams,” he said.  “I understand you wanted to see me.”
	The admiral looked at him thoughtfully and then said, “Mr. Jackson, what are you after?  Why are you involved in this affair?  What are you trying to do?”
	Adams saw Jackson’s eyes turn steel grey — and become as cold as an iceberg.  “Admiral, my interest is to see that justice is done.  From our investigation, the defendant in the court-martial, Miss Susan Jennings, was in no condition to do anything — least of all, participate in her own defense.  The defense counsel appointed to serve was the most junior lawyer on the base.”
	Adams recoiled from the piercing look in Jackson’s eyes as he continued, “It wasn’t a trial, it was a railroad!  They railroaded a girl out of the service who deserves medals for gallantry, heroism, and selflessness.  She most assuredly did not deserve a court-martial.  Admiral, I don’t want to prejudice you, but I’m sure it will all come out.  We have located everyone concerned and have taken steps to ensure their availability.  When do you intend to convene the court?”
	“Why... in two weeks,” Adams replied in some surprise.  “But of course I am moving the trial back here to Washington.”
	“Wrong, Admiral!” Rick exclaimed while shaking his head.  “You will convene your court in Los Angeles at the Federal Court House on February 1, next year.”
	The admiral was stunned.  He was being contradicted by a mere major.  “Why... Why that’s ridiculous!  It will be here in two weeks...”
	“Wrong!”  Rick was glaring at him now as he continued, “I’m afraid you didn’t read your letter of appointment too carefully.  For if you had, you would have seen that convening the court is dependent upon the availability of Miss Jennings.  She will not be available until February 1, and then only in Los Angeles, the site named for the court in your orders.
	“Admiral, this girl was railroaded once.  It will not happen again!”  With fire still in his eyes, Rick regained control and asked in a calmer tone, “Now why don’t you reread your orders?”
	The admiral did, slowly.  Then he read them again.  His blood pressure was rising as he said, “But this is ridiculous!  She... She’s only a civilian!  This cannot be.”
	Rick shook his head again and said, “It can be and it is.  You noticed that the order is signed by the Secretaries of the Army and the Navy and countersigned by the Secretary of Defense.  Do you care to argue?”
	Adams now looked thoroughly defeated as Rick said, “I thought not.  I look forward to seeing you again in Los Angeles.  Good day, Admiral.”  Rick left a very deflated vice admiral sitting in his office as he quietly shut the door behind him.

Chapter 6
	It was mid December now, and Susan’s bandages had long since disappeared.  She was moving freely now that the pain from the embedded bullets was gone.  Moreover, she and Ginny had continuing competitions in everything from weight lifting to tennis, to swimming, to golf.  The love and mutual respect between the two beautiful young women was a delight both to them and to everyone with whom they had contact.  All of Ginny’s friends knew the story well and they all rejoiced in the way Susan had blossomed.
	When the two young women went out together which was often, they attracted the stares of everyone around.  First, at five feet eight, both women were quite tall.  Beyond that, though, their figures were utterly perfect and they were incredible beauties, Virginia Cameron with her magnificent auburn hair and emerald-green eyes, and Susan Jennings with her hair like newly-minted yellow gold and the most brilliant blue eyes anyone had ever seen.
	Moreover, the two women truly adored one another and took every opportunity to exchange kisses.  Whenever their lips met, the two both felt an incredible flow of the purest love and joy.  Finally, both women were very intelligent, well read and very well informed.  Before long the two found themselves temporarily in demand for appearances on daytime talk shows — until it was learned that neither woman was at all “politically correct.”
	Late one afternoon Ginny said, “Let’s go inside, shall we?  In spite of almost being Christmas, it’s awfully hot.”  With a grimace she added, “In fact it reminds me of that late, unlamented POW camp.”
	Going into the cool house they went on to Ginny’s bedroom.  Once there, Ginny suddenly stopped in front of a full-length mirror.  Susan had to stop suddenly to keep from walking into her.  Since both women were nude having been soaking up the sun, Ginny just said casually, “Take a look.  You don’t really look half bad, little sister.”
	The two girls had been tanning nude, Ginny because she liked to, and Susan because Mike was concerned that the tiny scars from the surgery might be revealed as white lines on a tan.  They were not.  His work had been utterly perfect: There were no marks of any kind showing on Susan’s now-perfect body.
	Susan looked at her reflection in the mirror and was stunned.  She did not recognize the girl looking back at her.  The girl in the mirror had perfectly formed tits with tiny up-thrusting nipples.  Her stomach was flat, her hips were slim, her buns were small and tight, and her long legs were feminine perfection.  With her golden tan, and hair the color of newly minted yellow gold, Susan was a vision in shades of gold.  The only color was the incredibly bright red of her lips — even without any lipstick — and the brilliant blue of her eyes.
	Susan Jennings was now utterly exquisite and, in a whisper, Ginny told her so.
	Then to Ginny’s surprise she could see tears forming in the corners of Susan’s eyes.  Turning to Ginny she hugged her tightly and exclaimed, “Oh, God!  Thank you.  Ginny, do you think he’ll like me now?  Do you?”
	“Who’s ‘he’?” Ginny asked professing ignorance with a puzzled look on her face.
	“Virginia Cameron, I will cheerfully kill you right now,” Susan said in a flat tone of voice.  Then folding her arms on her chest she cocked her head and looked at Ginny thoughtfully.  After a few moments she nodded her head firmly just once and said, “Yup.  I knew it.  I should have eaten the damned nutrition bars myself instead of wasting them on you.  This is all it got me.”
	Dropping the act, Ginny enveloped Susan in her arms, hugged her tightly and then melted her lips against hers.  There was an instantaneous two-way flow of pure love as the two women poured out their hearts to one another.
	In a whisper Ginny said, “My darling Susan, I adore you.  I hope you know that.”  Then pulling away she pretended to glare at Sue and said in her normal tone of voice, “Susan Jennings, what is your problem?  He loved you in Vietnam when you were cut to ribbons and as thin as a rail, didn’t he?”  Susan just nodded once.  “He’s not blind,” Ginny continued.  “You are one of the most beautiful women alive in the world today.  I know he will love you!”
	Apparently changing the subject, Ginny said, “Incidentally, before I forget, Mike and I are going off to the Islands — without you!” she said with her nose in the air.
	She sniffed and interjected, “This is to show that I can too make love to Mike Chapman without you giving me directions!”  Then she just hugged Susan tightly and kissed her again murmuring, “I adore you, Sue.”  Back to her original line she said, “It will be a sort of pre-wedding honeymoon.  Since we want to give Maria time off to visit her family in Mexico over the holidays, the house will be sort of empty.
	“Anyway, I checked with Rick Jackson and he said his apartment is empty.  He has been traveling a lot and he would be very happy to have you use his apartment while we — and he — are gone.”  With her eyes wide she asked, “Sue, do you mind?”
	“Of course not, silly!” Sue replied with a grin.  “When can I get into his apartment?  And where is the key, for that matter?”
	Ginny swallowed hard, reached into her purse, and pulled out a ring of keys.  “This is the key to the apartment,” she said.  Pulling out another she continued, “This is the key to the BMW, and this is the one for the Porsche.  I would drive the Bimmer myself — it’s much easier to handle.  Both are ready for you now, though, and the choice is yours.”
	Going through an envelope she had produced she added, “Oops, I forgot something.  This is for you, too.  Rick said you should open your own bank account.”  Then she passed the very fat manilla envelope to Susan.
	The girl opened it and found a stack of one-hundred-dollar bills.  It contained five hundred — there was fifty thousand dollars.  Susan looked at the money and then up at Ginny, utterly bewildered.  “I can’t take this, Gin.  Really, I can’t.”
	Ginny just slowly shook her head and said, “Sue, you really can’t appreciate how much money Rick Jackson has.  Suffice it to say a lot more than this just spills off the edge of the table every day.  To him, that is a couple of days’ grocery money.  Okay?  Please use it like it is.  Please?”
	Susan packed her things, kissed Ginny and Mike, and remembered to wish Maria Merry Christmas in Spanish.  Maria smiled broadly when she heard, Felices Navidad! and gave Susan a warm kiss.
	“The señorita is very beautiful.  You always very beautiful, but now...”  She gave Susan another warm kiss and retreated to the kitchen with tears streaming down her cheeks.
	When Susan Jennings arrived at Rick Jackson’s apartment, she didn’t know what to expect.  She found it had been completely redecorated from the time she had been there before her operations.  It was spotless.  Since there was only one bedroom, she unpacked there.  Finding a whole empty chest of drawers, she carefully unpacked her new clothes.  Now she was wearing sizes she had last worn just before going to Vietnam.
	Susan spent the next few days stocking the apartment.  While doing it she found a note from Rick suggesting that she open an account at the bank branch across the street from his apartment.  The manager’s name was Mr. Smith.  He turned out to be very nice.  He told her that there was already money at the bank waiting for her.  Moreover, he said, the headquarters branch was transferring money to her account at the rate of $50,000 per week and Susan had not even signed the bank’s signature cards yet!  Poor Mr. Smith was terribly upset.  After Susan carefully signed all of his forms he felt much better.  Finally he gave her all the charge cards and bank ATM cards made out in her name that had been waiting there for her.
	Susan decided to buy a Christmas tree.  She could not even remember how long it had been since she had had the last one.  After calling several places listed in the Yellow Pages, she finally found a place that claimed to have a lovely blue spruce.  At least they said it was lovely, and when she saw it, she agreed it really was.  After buying lights, ornaments, tinsel and a Nativity set, she was about to return to the apartment when she saw something else.
	On a whim she bought a set of Lionel electric trains.  It was complete, so over the next few days she worked on her tree and her electric trains.  It was truly a labor of love.  Sue managed to assemble the train with its switches and men and dumping cars.  Then she spent hours on her knees playing with it under her now-beautifully decorated Christmas tree.
	Finally she went food shopping.  With all of her preparations complete, she even spent two full days making and decorating Christmas cookies.  Susan was delighted to find that the apartment now had a fully-equipped gym she could use for her daily workouts.  Otherwise, she thought, she would have blown up like a balloon.
	Shortly before Christmas, acting on a whim she called Jim Reading, the hair stylist who had worked on her in the hospital.  He remembered her instantly and asked when he could work on her hair again.  Susan told him that was why she had called him.  He told her to come right down to the studio, so she did.
	When she arrived, he looked at her and just shook his head.  “Susan Jennings, you are incredibly, utterly beautiful!  It is a real pleasure for me and my people to have the opportunity to work on you.  Come on in!”
	He worked on her for three hours.  When he finished, he spun the chair around so she could see herself.  Susan looked at her reflection and was disappointed.  “Jim,” she said, “It.... It... It still looks like... me.  Aren’t you going to do something dramatic to make me look beautiful... or something?”
	Reading just smiled and slowly shook his head.  “Susan Jennings, we do that a lot.  Sometimes, even, because the rôle requires it, we might even cut off all the hair and shave a skull.  Far more often, though, we work to draw attention away from something.  You are as genuinely beautiful a girl as I have ever seen.  Incidentally, that includes Marcia Matthews who had the natural-beauty record around here until you appeared.”
	He shook his head and continued, “Just look at your hair.  It is full, full-bodied, naturally wavy...  It is just exquisite.  I hope you like the way I styled it.  I think you should have a little more than ordinary length, but I guess I am prejudiced.  I would like to see you as Lady Godiva naked with only your glorious hair falling all the way down to your waist!”
	Reaching out her hand, Susan took his.  “Thank you, Jim.  It really does look beautiful.  And thank you for the kind words.”  Then with a little smile she asked, “Now how much do I owe you?”
	“Not a penny!  It’s been a real pleasure for both me and my people.  Incidentally, speaking of pennies, Penny Watts, the makeup director you met at the hospital, knows you are coming in today.  She asked me to ask you to do her a big favor and please stop by her place before you leave.  Do you have a few extra minutes?”
	Susan told him that she had no plans at all.  After thanking him again and wishing him a merry Christmas, she went off to find Penny.
	Following Jim’s directions, a few minutes later she knocked on Penny’s door.  The woman opened it, took her hand and then set her in a makeup chair.  One of her people started giving Susan a manicure while Penny worked on her face.  There were hot towels, cold towels, packs of every kind — in short, everything.  Susan decided that this time they were really going to do a job.  She giggled as she felt her shoes being removed so she could be given a pedicure.  There was a great deal of discussion regarding the precise shade of nail enamel to be used.  Of course, Susan was not consulted.
	Finally they finished and Penny whipped the sheet off Susan’s body with a flourish and spun the chair so she could see herself in the mirror.  Susan’s face fell when she looked at herself.  It was the same face she always saw in the mirror; there had been no change.  Looking down at her fingertips, she saw that her nails were a beautiful Christmas red, and there was a tiny bit of the same color on her lips, but that was all she could see.
	“But...  but what did you do, Penny?  Why don’t I look different?” Susan asked.
	The woman just smiled warmly and said, “I cleansed your face, freshened it, dried it, put a tiny bit of powder on the tip of your nose and tinted your lips.  You’re done.”
	With a broad smile she continued, “I understand you had a similar conversation with Jim.  All I can say is women wear makeup because they have to, not because they like to.  Susan Jennings, if everyone who came in here was like you, I would be out of business.  Fortunately, almost none are.  There are only two that I know of: you and Marcia.  And I suppose it’s only right that the two most beautiful women in Hollywood are best friends...”
	Suddenly Penny interrupted herself.  “No!” she exclaimed.  “You’re not friends.  You’re... you’re... sisters!”  With a delighted look on her face, the woman clapped her hands and exclaimed, “That’s it, isn’t it?  You adore each other, don’t you?”  Then she shook her head slowly and continued, “You know what?  Even sisters doesn’t quite do it.  The intensity of your love for each other is truly remarkable.”
	Taking Susan’s hands in both of hers, Penny just looked intently into Susan’s eyes.  “You offered your life to save hers, didn’t you?”  Susan tried to demur but Penny insisted.  Finally, with the greatest reluctance Sue nodded her head just once.
	Changing the subject dramatically, Penny asked innocently, “By the way, who is the poor guy?”
	Pretending ignorance, Sue just shook her head.  This, in turn, caused Penny to archly raise an eyebrow.  “Young lady, I should have said it earlier.  You look utterly spectacular right now.  We were all so delighted to hear that the operations were completely successful.  Now the perfection of your body matches that of your face.”  Shaking her had sadly, Penny said, “The poor guy!  He doesn’t have a chance.”
	“What poor guy?” Susan asked.
	The poor guy you’re getting all fixed up for.  Will you see him on Christmas?” Penny asked shrewdly.
	Susan’s face fell as she replied, “I don’t know, Penny.  Honest.  I really don’t.  I desperately hope so, though.  But why do you ask?”
	“Because the poor slob doesn’t have a chance.”  Then she gave Susan a small bag and said, “I have some more lipstick and nail enamel for you to take home.  I’ll see you in a month or so.  Just call Jim Reading and he’ll let me know you’re coming.  And, Susan, have a very merry Christmas!”  Like Jim, Penny waved away any payment.
	When she got home, Susan looked at herself carefully in a mirror and decided she looked very good.  Only then did it occur to her that she was pleased with her appearance and really had not been for years — since before she had been sent to Vietnam.
* * *
	Finally it was Christmas eve.  Susan was curled up in a chair reading a book — or trying to.  Although it was a very good book, she was unable to get into it.  Instead she found that her eyes were just moving across the lines of type while her brain was preoccupied with thoughts of Rick Jackson.  Please, dear God!  she prayed, Make him come to see me.  Checking her watch she found it was already after eleven o’clock.  She had just about given up hope when there was a knock at the door.  Catapulting herself out of the chair, she ran to the door and threw it open.  Rick was standing there in the hall.
	When the door was thrown open, Rick could only stare at the golden-blonde apparition standing in front of him.  Then there were the most brilliant blue eyes Rick had ever seen on anyone.  Thank God that the hair and eyes don’t change, he thought.  Otherwise I would never recognize her.
	With a little smile he said, “Hi, Susan.  Do you remember me?  I know it’s awfully late, but may I come in?”
	Instead of stepping back to welcome him in, Susan hurled herself at him, threw her arms around his neck and began to kiss him.  As she worked her lips on his and the electricity flowed between them, he could feel her trying to mash her body against his.  He almost fell over from the power of her unleashed passion.  Finally they separated to breathe.
	With her lips only inches away from his ear she whispered, “Welcome home, my darling.  Merry Christmas!”  Suddenly Susan completely lost control and started to cry like a baby.  “Oh, my darling, I love you so!” she cried.
	Rick lifted her up in his arms, carried her to an easy chair and sat down with Susan on his lap.
	Immediately she began to undress him, throwing his clothes on the floor.  Then she stripped off her own things and moved as far from him as she could while still sitting on his lap.  “Do... do... do you approve, my darling?” she asked.  “How can I be better for you?”
	Rick just looked at the utter perfection of Susan’s fully revealed body.  Reaching out, he began to just lightly run his fingertips all over her.  For her part, she just closed her eyes and reveled in his wonderful touch.  Now Susan was completely naked while Rick only had his pants on.  Again he picked her up and carried her, this time into the bedroom.  With a giggle, while still being held in his arms, Susan pulled the covers off the bed.  Rick laid her down on it but then, to her dismay, disappeared from the room.
	A few minutes later he reappeared, this time with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket along with two flutes.  He had also shed his trousers so now he was only wearing his shorts.  Setting down the beverages, he stripped off his shorts and just stood beside the bed with his cock now huge and proudly erect.  “Do you approve, my darling?” he asked, repeating her words from a few minutes earlier.  “How can I be better for you?” he asked.
	“If you really want to know,” she replied with a wonderfully salacious grin, “you can make love to me right this instant!”
	He jumped onto the bed, took her into his arms and began to kiss her soft lips.  As he did, Susan maneuvered her body to enable her to ease his cock into her sopping wet sheath.  When he entered her, she increased the intensity of her kisses and made wonderfully satisfied noises deep in her body.  In spite of their shared desire to prolong their initial lovemaking, their passion was too great.  In just moments, both were in the throes of uncontrollable orgasms.  His cum flooded her vaginal cavity and the power of her own orgasm caused her to lose consciousness.  Still wrapped in each others arms, they went to sleep with the champagne sitting untouched beside the bed.
* * *
	Susan was awakened on Christmas morning by a wonderful sensation.  Although the couple had fallen asleep wrapped in each others arms — or, more accurately collapsed from sexual exhaustion — as she became more aware she realized that again her head was on Rick’s shoulder and his large hand was cupping her right tit.  Her breast, now very firm and full, was being gently squeezed.  Her hand was on his so she pressed down causing him to squeeze her breast even harder.
	Looking up at his face she whispered, “My darling, this is a first for you.  There is really something there to squeeze this time.  Do you like it?”
	“My darling, I love you,” Rick said softly.  “I have from the very first day.  You are so incredibly beautiful, but you always were.  I remember a girl who was so badly cut up she couldn’t bear any physical contract, yet wanted to make love with me.  There has never been anything like it in my experience,” he whispered.
	“Sue, the operations were really for you, not for me.  I now know that you have been in intense pain from carrying those bullets around for years, and I’m so happy for you that they — and the continual pain — are gone.  But, darling, as far as appearance, I love you however you look.”  Then looking deeply into her eyes he asked, “Do you remember what you did that time in the cave?”
	“You mean getting on top?” she asked lovingly.  “Impaling myself on that gigantic thing between your legs?  Splitting myself in two?  Is that what you mean?”  Rick was concerned about her characterization of the size of his sex.  He knew he was large, but now he was concerned.  Before he could say anything, though, she said, “Of course I remember.  How could I ever forget?”
	Then sweeping off the covers she knelt astride his body and asked, “Would you like me to do it again?”  Without waiting for a reply, she slid down on his body so she could take his cock into her mouth.  Kissing it and sucking it caused it almost instantly to extend to gigantic proportions.  Meanwhile his fingertips were roving all over her incredibly smooth skin and feeling her muscles right below the surface of her satin skin respond to his touch.  Moving back up on his body she carefully positioned the red head of his raging erection at the mouth of her vagina and then eased herself down on it.  She could feel her cunt being stretched to accommodate his huge girth, and later, as she took its great length inside her, Susan could feel it stretching her cunt in length as well.
	“Darling,” Rick exclaimed, “I’m ripping you in half!”  With that he tried to lift her off him to relieve her pain but she wrapped her legs around him and refused to budge.  “Please stop, Sue!  You’ll be killed.”
	“I will like hell!” she exclaimed.  “Richard Jackson, when I was starving and was tempted to try to sell my body, I remembered this.  If I could take you when I was nothing but a torn-up bag of bones, I sure as hell can take you now.  And I did!”
	She wiggled her internal muscles and just reveled in the feelings in her cunt.  “My darling, I can’t tell you how wonderful this feels.”  Then she leaned forward and kissed him softly.  Again there was the electricity flowing between them.  “Merry Christmas, my darling,” she whispered.  “Can my body be my present to you?  You’ve been running your fingers over me, but you haven’t really felt the merchandise.  I think it’s pretty nice now.  I just hope it’s nice enough for you.”
	Sitting up straight while still impaled on his raging cock, she cradled her tits and said, “My boobs are nice and firm, although you probably want them bigger.  Do you?”
	Rick caressed her body, moved her hands away, and cupped her beautiful tits in his own.  As he seemed to weigh them in his hands he looked thoughtful.  “These are pretty good.  In fact, Sue, they are utterly perfect.  I love you this way.”  Then he smiled softly and added, “But I love you any way.”
	Then his face grew serious and he looked up into her eyes.  “Darling, there was something else you said at the press conference.  You said you went berserk when I was hit by a mortar round because you didn’t care to go on living.  Did you really mean what you said?”
	“Yes, I did,” she replied softly.  Then she leaned forward with his cock still splitting her insides so that she could hold him close.  “Rick, I love you more than life itself.  When I saw you hit and go down, I thought you were dead.  At that point, life was no longer worth living.  I had lost you.”
	Raising her head again, she looked into his eyes and said, “I asked you before, Rick, but I was a wreck, then.  My darling, may I continue to live here with you?  Could I be your cook and housekeeper and maid and...”
	He just sadly shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, Susan, but my wife wouldn’t like it, I’m afraid.”
	At that instant, Susan almost died.  Rick’s heart turned over as he saw her eyes instantly go dead.  “But... but... I could be her maid, too,” she said slowly.  “I could prepare her for your glorious cock.  I could clean out her cunt with my mouth...  Ginny says I am really very talented...”
	“Susan,” Rick interrupted, “did you say you would do anything to make me happy?  Anything at all?”
	“Of course, Rick,” she replied, puzzled.
	“That’s what I thought you said,” he continued.  “That’s why you’re going to be my wife.  We will get someone else to be the maid, the cook, and so forth.  You, wench, will spend all your time in bed with your legs spread wide!”
	Pretending to glare at her he said, “And for that matter, young lady, I think you have something of mine inside you.  Are you just going to sit there?”  Susan grinned and began to move her pelvis slowly.
	For Rick it was as if his cock were enclosed in a very tight, very moist glove.  He could feel the walls of her vagina rhythmically squeezing his trapped cock and creating the most marvelous sensations as she did.  Continuing, she reached one orgasm, and another, and still more.  Yet at the same time, whenever Rick would get close to achieving his own release, she would subtly change her tempo to prolong her pleasure.  Each time Rick felt he was going higher and higher.  He felt he had to obtain release or he would internally explode, but she kept him from it, although his internal pressures continued to build reaching intolerable levels..  Finally, even her changed motion could no longer control him and he exploded inside her.  When he did, the incredible sensations caused both of their nervous systems to short out.  Both Susan and Rick lost consciousness, with Susan just collapsing on top of him.
	Later they regained consciousness but remained the way they were.  The two giggled as they reached down to try to rescue some bedcovers and finally recovered enough to cover and warm them both.  At that point they went back to sleep with Rick’s cock still inside her.
	When they awakened, they were still wrapped in each others arms.  Without moving, Rick said, “I’m waiting for my answer.”
	“What answer, darling?” Sue replied.
	“If you will marry me,” he explained.
	“But darling, I gave you my answer, or at least my cunt did.  Of course I will marry you.  Anytime at all.”
	Finally he withdrew and they rolled on their backs.  Susan took his hand, placed it on her favorite location cupping her tit, and with her hand on top very lightly stroking the back of his.  In just moments they were both back to sleep.
	When Rick next awakened he realized that the bed was empty.  Going into the bathroom he showered and shaved, then put on a bathrobe and went in search of Susan.  He found her in the kitchen naked, just putting the finishing touches on a breakfast feast she had prepared.
	When he came in she just stood up straight and put her shoulders back to cause her tits to thrust upward.  Taking her into his arms, he melted his lips to hers while he ran his fingers over the satin smoothness that was her body.  Then holding her face between his hands he whispered, “Susan Jennings, you are beyond belief.  You are so beautiful, it’s sinful!”
	Again they kissed and he could feel the love just flowing between them.  When he saw that her eyes were shining with tears, he asked her what was wrong.
	“Nothing, my darling,” she replied.  “I am just so happy I can’t stand it.  It almost hurts!  I love you so much I’m afraid my heart will burst from sheer happiness.”
	Pushing him away she smiled warmly and said, “On the other hand, I’m afraid you might think that I’m trying to starve you.  Since I know firsthand how painful that can be, I took steps.  I hope you’re at least a little bit hungry.”
	When he replied that he didn’t want food, he just wanted her, Susan grinned and said, “But, sir!  I am the dessert course.”
	They spent an utterly delightful Christmas day.  At Susan’s insistence they got dressed and went to Mass.  As they walked toward the nearby church, Rick realized it was the very first time he and Susan had ever walked together.  With her long legs and naturally long stride, she maintained his natural pace with ease.  In fact, it appeared to be hers as well.  It was amusing to see the reaction of people they passed on the street.  Both men and women were utterly dazzled by Susan’s incredible beauty, heightened today by the great love she was feeling for Rick which made her more beautiful still.
	For her part, she was utterly oblivious to the looks she was receiving.  All she cared about was the man whose arm she was holding.  During the Mass at the point where the priest asks the congregation to exchange a sign of peace, Susan turned towards Rick who had his hand out.  Ignoring his hand, she rested her hand lightly behind his head, cocked it slightly, and then kissed him with all the power she could unleash.
	Poor Rick almost passed out.  When she removed her lips she continued to hold him until his eyes focused again.  Then she asked innocently, “Was that peaceful enough?”
	Returning to the apartment, Rick discovered the electric trains and spent most of the rest of the day playing with them.  He claimed it was the greatest Christmas gift he had ever received since he was eight years old.
	“But, darling,” Susan protested, “they’re mine, not yours!”
	Rick just grinned.
	Whenever she could pry him away from the toys, Susan took him into the bedroom to make love.  Once, though, she just lay with her back on the floor and her pelvis supported with a couple of pillows.  While Rick continued to play with the trains, she eased his cock into her cunt and murmured, “Now we can both play.”
	Later Susan served the dinner she had planned in her mind for weeks.  Although she had originally intended to wear a beautiful dress she had bought just for the occasion, she ended serving the dinner nude.  Rick found he adored being able to look at her gorgeous tits with their tiny pink nipples staring at him from across the table.
	Finally late that evening they were in bed together after the most exquisite lovemaking of the day.  Susan had her head on his shoulder and his hand was cupping her breast while they both regained their breath.
	Finally Rick said, “Sue, you didn’t even ask me what I was going to give you for Christmas.  Aren’t you even interested?”  He sounded like his feelings had been hurt.
	Susan was now sufficiently confident in his love that she teased him.  “I am interested, Richard, but I am no longer speaking to you.  You stole my electric trains!”
	“If you’re not speaking to me,” Rick replied skeptically, “What was that action a few minutes ago?”
	“That,” she said with her nose in the air, “was my cunt.”
	Turning her head to be able to look directly into his gray eyes she said, “And I’m mad at you about that, too.  Before you came, Richard Jackson, my cunt was a nice, sweet, petite size.  Now, in only twenty-four hours, it’s extra large.  You are stretching me completely out of shape!”
	She sniffed and then returned to his original question.  “Regardless, I do not talk with my cunt, I talk with my mouth.  And in spite of being stretched out of shape, my poor cunt is on very warm, close, and loving terms with your magnificent cock.  It feels utterly glorious, even though I probably won’t even be able to walk tomorrow.”
	With her nose in the air, Susan sniffed loudly and continued, “Nevertheless, you stole my electric trains!  I don’t think I will ever speak to you again.  They are the only electric trains I’ve ever had.”
	Rick just grinned, slid towards the side of the bed and took a gaily wrapped little box from the drawer in the night table.  Giving it to Susan he said, “My darling, I am still speaking to you, and I have something for you.  I hope you like it.”
	She opened the box and found an utterly magnificent diamond engagement ring.  Slipping it on the third finger of her left hand, it fitted perfectly.
	Then he kissed her passionately and asked, “Will you join me on a trip to Hawaii?  I thought we might go out for New Year’s and spend a month or so.  Interested?”
	“My darling,” she replied softly, “I am interested in absolutely anything as long as you are with me.  It sounds utterly divine.”
	Then she pretended to glare at him again and added, “I’m still not sure I forgive you for stealing my electric trains, though.”

Chapter 7
	The special Court of Inquiry convened on February 1 at the Federal Court House in Los Angeles.  Vice Admiral Adams was annoyed to find that the press was present in force.  This was beyond his experience because first, military courts usually convene on military posts to which civilians do not normally have access, and second, because there is usually no civilian press interest at all.  After Adams called the Court to order, the letters of appointment were read and the Law Officer announced that the Court was in session.
	The first witness called was Lieutenant Commander Warren Judkins who had served as trial counsel at Susan’s trial.  The trial had been held at the naval base at Subic Bay in the Philippines.
	Susan’s attorney, Jack Smithson, began the questioning.  Each of the parties could be represented by individual counsel and all were.  “Mr. Judkins,” Smithson began,  “What were the charges and specifications under which Miss Jennings was brought to trial?”
	“She was charged with consorting with the enemy,” Judkins replied proudly.  “Specifically, she used sex to obtain special favors while held in the prison camp.”
	“Who preferred the charges?” Smithson asked.
	“They were preferred by the other parties sitting over there,” Judkins said.
	“Commander, who were the supporting witnesses?”
	Judkins looked surprised at the question.  “There weren’t any.  It wasn’t necessary.”
	“I see,” Jack said thoughtfully.  “Tell me, what was the physical condition of the parties in this court?  How did their appearance then compare to their appearance today?”
	“Well, Miss Jennings looks like she’s gained a little weight,” Judkins replied, “and the other three look like they have lost some.”
	“So Miss Jennings was thinner at her court-martial four years ago,” Jack continued.  “How much thinner?”
	“Oh, a lot,” Judkins replied with some enthusiasm.  “Actually, you see, she caused us a problem.  The accused has to appear in court in uniform, and because she was so thin, they had to race around and have one specially made for her.  There was no standard size small enough to fit her.  That’s around, sir,” he explained.  “Not up and down.”
	“I see,” Jack continued.  “How much did Miss Jennings weigh at the time?  You said she was very thin.”
	“I think I remember hearing she weighed seventy-five or eighty pounds.  Something around there.”
	“Do you know how tall Miss Jennings is?” Smithson asked.  Turning to Susan he asked her to stand.  She looked utterly magnificent as she stood facing the court.  With her deep golden Hawaiian tan, coupled with her perfect physical condition, she was an unbelievably beautiful girl.
	“I guess she’s five seven or eight — around there,” Judkins replied.  Jack indicated for Susan to be seated again.
	Smithson had initially appeared to be almost bored with the proceedings and Judkins replies to his questions.  Suddenly his demeanor changed totally.  Now there was fire in his eyes as he said, “Judkins, where is your brain?  You have just testified that the charge against Miss Jennings was ‘consorting with the enemy’ to obtain special favors!  Then you tell the Court that a woman five feet eight inches tall — her correct height, by the way — weighed seventy-five to eighty pounds.  Judkins, that is about twenty-five pounds or so below the minimum weight for that height.  You then say that the complaining witnesses were all heavier than they are now.”
	Barely able to control the disdain in his voice, Smithson concluded, “I ask you, man, who looked like they had been receiving special favors?  Miss Jennings or the other parties?”
	“The others?” Judkins replied with the question mark obvious in his voice.
	Jack was now disdainful.  “I am not testifying, Mr. Judkins.  You are.  What do you think?”
	“The others did, sir,” Judkins stated firmly.
	“Thank you, Mr. Judkins,” Smithson said.  Then, changing the subject he asked, “Is it not a part of the responsibility of the trial counsel to ensure that the accused is capable of standing trial?  Of participating in her own defense?”
	“Yes, sir, it is, although we don’t pay much attention to it.  It has sort of become a part of the defense counsel’s job — at least it was out at Subic,” he replied.
	“And who was the defense counsel?” Jack asked.
	“I believe it was William Devers, sir.”
	“What was Mr. Devers rank at the time?”
	“He was an ensign, sir.  I think he had been at Subic for about a week when he received the appointment.”
	“Did Mr. Devers raise a question about Miss Jennings’ capacity to stand trial?” Jack pursued.
	“Yes, sir, he did,” Judkins answered.  It was obvious that he was now becoming very nervous as the significance of his own testimony sank in.
	“What did Mr. Devers say?” Jack asked.
	“He said that Miss Jennings had three untreated bullet wounds and was suffering from extreme malnutrition.  He said he was unable to interview her.  She just kept saying the same few words over and over,” he replied.
	“What were the words?” Jack asked.
	“She just kept saying, ‘He’s dead,’” he replied.
	“As trial counsel representing the government, what did you do?” Smithson asked.
	“I took it to the staff judge advocate and asked for an opinion,” he answered.
	“And what was his expressed opinion?”
	“He said it was the usual stall.  He pointed out that she was merely a nurse lieutenant and there was testimony from both a colonel and a major.  I was ordered to proceed with the trial.  Devers was ordered to shut up or face court-martial himself for insubordinate conduct.”  At the end of his statement Judkins was speaking slowly and softly as the real meaning of his own words finally sank in.
	“Did you get a medical opinion, Mr. Judkins?” Jack pursued.
	“No, sir, I did not.  I was ordered not to by Commander Henderson, the staff judge advocate.  He said we had to wrap up the trial quickly because he had a pigeon in Colonel Black and he was going to take him to the cleaners.  And he did, too,” Judkins concluded.
	“You said, ‘take him to the cleaners.’  What, exactly, do you mean?”
	“He — Commander Henderson — was going to take him on the golf course.  And he did, too!  He took him for almost five bucks!”
	“In other words, Mr. Judkins, Miss Jennings was railroaded to allow Commander Henderson to win less than five dollars from Colonel Black.  Her life wasn’t worth five dollars?  Is that what you are saying, Mr. Judkins?”
	Jack Smithson, a very experienced trial lawyer and court-martial specialist, was almost screaming.  He had never encountered such inhumanity in his professional career.  Wheeling around to address the court, Smithson requested that Judkins be named as a party at interest.  Adams curtly nodded while Judkins turned white.
	Smithson called Commander John Henderson as his next witness.  After being sworn, Smithson asked him about the Jennings trial.  The officer, acting bored by the whole thing, claimed it was strictly routine.  It was similar to dozens of other cases.  Jack asked him to name a single similar case but he could not.  Then he asked if Henderson had asked for and received any medical input.  The commander could scarcely control a yawn when he replied that doctors were always bleating about something.
	Jack then asked about the bet and Henderson said he had taken the colonel for almost five dollars.  “You mean to tell me that a girl’s life is worth less than five dollars?  Commander, what kind of man are you?”  It was all Smithson could do to control the rage that was seething inside.
	Turning to Adams he said, “Admiral, I am formally requesting that this court name Commander John Henderson as a party in this inquiry.”
	Henderson suddenly went white as Admiral Adams, with scarcely a glance at his fellow court members, immediately named Henderson as a party at interest.  Henderson was not reassured when he looked into the eyes of the members of the court.  All of their eyes were as cold as death.  It was obvious that the Admiral and his fellow members were utterly appalled at what they had heard that morning.
	Next, Jack called Dr. Oliver Wainwright, the physician at Subic Bay who had examined Susan.  He testified that he had been forbidden “by higher authority” to operate to remove the bullets from Susan’s body.  He was ordered to prepare her to stand trial immediately.  Citing professional ethics and The Uniform Code of Military Justice, Wainwright had refused.
	Jack asked the doctor about Susan’s physical condition at the time.  He replied that she weighed seventy-two pounds and was suffering from extreme malnutrition.  In addition, she had severe lacerations front and back that he was also forbidden to treat.  Finally, there were the new bullet wounds.  All he was allowed to do was the bandage them while the bullets remained in her body.  His commanding officer, Captain Warren Holmes, had taken over the case.  Wainwright had resigned his commission as a result of the Jennings incident.
	Captain Holmes was then called as a witness.  When Jack asked him if he had examined Miss Jennings, he replied that he had not.  Jack then asked how he could possibly refuse permission for Dr. Wainwright to operate.  Holmes said that Black was a friend of a friend and told him that Jennings was a malingerer.  That was the basis for his action.
	“In other words, Captain, you took the work of a friend of a friend — who is not even a physician, by the way — in preference to the word of a doctor on your own staff who had examined and was treating Miss Jennings.”
	“But Wainwright was only a reserve officer,” Holmes protested.  “What could he possibly know?” 
	Holmes, too, was immediately named a party to the court.  Hearing the Admiral, Holmes suddenly went as white as a sheet and glared at General Black.
	When Admiral Adams recessed the court for lunch, Susan met Rick at the back of the courtroom.  Pulling his head down to hers, she melted her lips against his and then began to work her tongue into his mouth.  Again there was a jolt of electricity and the beautiful bells.
	“Hello, future husband,” she whispered, as she supported herself with her arms around his neck.  As usual, her knees had been turned to water by their kiss and Susan was not sure her legs would even support her weight.
	“Boy, do you ever lose on that deal, lady,” Rick replied with a grin.  “You get a beat-up, shot-up, ex-Marine for a husband, while I get the world’s most beautiful woman as my wife.”  Pulling her body close to his, he could hear the wonderfully warm and happy sounds Susan always made deep in her body whenever her body was being crushed to his.
	While she mashed her tits against his broad chest, she moved her pelvis against his private parts that were vainly trying to become erect in spite of being trapped in his shorts.  Lifting her chin up he kissed her softly again and again their love for each other just flowed between them.
	“How do you feel, darling?” he asked.  “I guess I have to be appalled.  About the only guy who is looking good is Wainwright, but I sure wish he had been able to blow the whistle on the rest of these creeps.  I suppose that’s asking too much, though.”
	They met Jack Smithson and went to a nearby restaurant.  Susan shook her head sadly and said, “The thing that makes me so mad is to think that I spent four years in misery for less than five dollars.  Jack, you’re experienced in this sort of thing.  What happens now?  And what’s likely to happen to these people?”
	“There are going to be a stack of courts-martial coming out of this one, Susan,” he replied.  “Their answers are utterly appalling.  I think you probably could see that at least a couple of members of the court were physically sickened by what they had been hearing.  I think I’ll jump back to Vietnam this afternoon.  My plan is to start with Ginny Cameron, follow with a number of ex-prisoners, and then close with your testimony.  I guess you will be testifying in a few days.”  With a little smile he asked, “How does that sound to you?”
	“It sounds okay to me, Jack,” she replied.  “But, Rick, I have shown terribly poor judgment where it comes to taking care of myself over the last few years, so what do you think?”
	“Honey, I think the whole thing is coming apart on them,” Rick answered.   “I agree with Jack.  Your case couldn’t have started out any better.  Already it has been established that you were seriously wounded, cut up, and down to only seventy-two pounds, for chrissakes.  Their big problem was getting you into a uniform.  It has been established that you were seriously wounded and no one did anything.  Finally, by Judkins own admission, you could not assist in your own defense.
	“Taken together, the testimony so far is utterly disastrous for the others, particularly Black’s Navy friends at Subic.  A number of careers are going to crater on this one, and some people are headed for prison.  But I think a great many other people are going to have a hard time living with themselves when they realize the significance of what they have done, or allowed to be done.”
	Back at the courtroom, when the court was called back into session, Jack asked for Virginia Cameron to be called to testify.  After she was sworn and took her seat, Jack began his questioning.  “Miss Cameron, when, where, and under what conditions did you first meet Susan Jennings?”
	Ginny told how she had been a first lieutenant in the army and the circumstances of her capture.  She explained in detail how the camp operated — the grossly inadequate rations, the trading of clothing and then sexual favors for enough food to survive on.  She told how initially she had been unwilling to make such a trade.  By the time she realized she was headed for death from starvation, she no longer had a body to trade with.  She first met Susan after she had been a prisoner of war for over a year.
	“Miss Cameron,” Jack asked, “what was your physical condition on the day you met Miss Jennings?”
	“I was dying of starvation,” Ginny said flatly.  “I would have been dead in a matter of hours, had it not been for Susan.”
	General Black’s lawyer was on his feet at that point.  “I object!” he exclaimed.  “That is an uninformed conclusion of the witness.  She has no basis for making such a statement.”
	Jack told the court that the medical basis would be established by subsequent medical testimony.  He pointed out that at the time of her rescue Virginia Cameron weighed only seventy-one pounds.  He was allowed to continue the questioning subject to it being stricken if the basis for it were not established later.  He continued, “What did Miss Jennings do that first time you met?”
	“She gave me — or, more accurately, fed me — a nutrition bar from a Red Cross food parcel.  I told her she shouldn’t.  I had made what was by then an obviously poor choice and I would have to die with it.”  Holding her head up straight, there were tears flowing from her eyes as she concluded, “Susan Jennings forced me to go on living!”
	“Miss Cameron, did you know Colonel Black, Major Simon, or Captain Harrison at that time?” Smithson asked.
	“Yes, I did.  More accurately, I knew of them.  They were never in the camp itself.  They lived outside the wire.  I hated them all, and I still do,” she said flatly.
	“Why is that?” Jack asked.
	“Colonel Black — now General Black — was the senior POW officer.  In that capacity he had the responsibility to try to obtain humane treatment for the prisoners.  As far as any of us could see, he did nothing!  The only person who did anything — and she did more than everyone else combined — was Susan Jennings.”
	“Would you please tell the court about the events of the last day you spent in the prison camp?  The last time you saw Miss Jennings in Vietnam?” Jack asked.
	First, Ginny told about the guard preparing to lash her with his bullwhip and how Susan had shielded her body with her own and had been cut to pieces.  Finally, she told how she had been given the shirt off Susan’s back when she was about to be crucified.
	At this point Admiral Adams interrupted.  “Miss Cameron, really!  This is a Court of Inquiry, not a court-martial.  As a result, a broader latitude for questioning is permitted, but there are some limits.  This is clearly beyond those bounds!”  Shaking his head he concluded, “Crucifixion, indeed!”
	“You heard me correctly, Admiral!” Ginny exclaimed with green flame flashing from her eyes.  “Crucifixion!  As in being hung on a cross until dead.  I saw her put on it, and I watched her hanging from it while slowly dying, all day long.  Neither I, nor any of the other prisoners, could do a thing to help the girl who had saved so many of our lives.  Another witness will testify that Rick Jackson cut her down from the cross, thinking he was recovering a corpse.  You heard me correctly, Admiral: crucifixion!”
	“But Miss Cameron,” the admiral protested, “This is ridiculous!  There are rules.  There is the Geneva Convention.”
	“That is correct, Admiral,” Ginny responded.  Then with the green fire again in her eyes, she glared at him and asked, “Does the Convention permit starving prisoners?  Does it permit slicing them to ribbons with a bullwhip?  Does it require them to sell their bodies to get Red Cross — yes, Admiral, Red Cross — medical supplies for dying prisoners?  Does it Admiral?”  By this time Ginny had nearly lost control and was screaming.
	Adams called for order as attorneys for the three parties from the prison camp — Black, Simon, and Harrison — all objected.  Jack Smithson waited for the uproar in the court to die down.  When it finally did he asked for and received permission to excuse Miss Cameron in order to call other witnesses to testify on the same points.
	One after the other, the witnesses Rick had located were called to the stand.  The testimony ran through the afternoon and continued for the next three days.  It was obvious that the court members were being sickened by it.
	Perhaps the most memorable testimony was given by Donald Clinton, formerly a sergeant in the Marines.  After being sworn and taking his seat, Jack Smithson asked, “Mr. Clinton, did you know Miss Jennings in Vietnam?  If so, when, where, and under what circumstances did you meet her?”
	Clinton was a big man, standing six feet three and weighing 220 pounds.  He had brown hair and warm brown eyes.  “I met Miss Jennings when I was a prisoner in the same POW camp where she was kept.  She saved my life,” he said simply.
	“Would you please tell the court how she did that,” Jack asked.
	“Yes, sir, gladly!” Clinton replied.  “You see, sir, I had been wounded before being captured.  There was an infection that was killing me.  The only way to handle it was with antibiotics, but, of course, there were none available for the prisoners.”  Tears came to the corners of his eyes as he continued, “Miss Jennings learned about me.  She offered her body for antibiotics.  But to punish me, they made me watch.”
	Turning to the Admiral he said, “Sir, can you imagine?  I am laying on the bare ground beside Miss Jennings.  The first guy comes up and she extends her hand.  After he gives her the medicine, she spreads her legs wide and welcomes him inside.  This repeats for three more.  Each time she received the antibiotics first.  Each time while they are taking her she is holding my hand and squeezing it.  When they are finished, with their cum still dripping from her vagina, she takes the antibiotic and gives me the first injection.”
	At that point Clinton lost control.  “Can you believe it?  While she is injecting the lifesaving medicine she’s apologizing to me for being so morally filthy.  She wouldn’t have even touched me except there was no one else who knew how to administer the medication.  Can you believe it?  She saves my life, and then apologizes!”
	Leaving the witness stand, he went to where Susan was sitting, knelt down on the floor, took her hands and kissed them.  While he was on his knees, a lovely woman with twin girls about seven years old joined them.  Clinton had his head on Susan’s lap, unable to control his tears.
	One of the little girls — they were identical twins with gorgeous blonde hair and blue eyes — said, “Good afternoon, Miss Jennings.  My name is Cathy Clinton, and this is my twin sister, Christine.  We want to thank you for saving our daddy’s life.  If it hadn’t been for you, he would not have come back alive.  And since our mommy loves Daddy so much, if he had died, we are sure she would have died very soon, too.  So you see, Miss Jennings, you saved four lives, not just one.”
	Looking into Susan’s beautiful eyes she said, “Could I give you a kiss?  Please?”
	In the meantime the woman had helped Clinton to his feet.  Susan reached out her arms and took both of the little girls in her arms together and then melted her lips against theirs.
	When they finally parted each girl was sitting on one of Susan’s legs while facing the other.  Chris Clinton said, “Sister, Miss Jennings is a saint.  No human could possibly kiss like she does.  Her kiss is just pure love, grace, and goodness.  She is a saint!”
	“No, sister, she is not,” Cathy replied.  “She is one of God’s angel’s come down to earth.  Not even a saint could be as pure and sweet and wonderful as she is.  She is an angel!  Did you look into her eyes?  All you can see is purity and love.”
	Her sister thought for a moment and finally agreed.  Susan was an angel.
	Susan just hugged them both tightly, kissed them again, and then very gently set them back on their feet.  The two little girls were utterly glowing with joy.
	At that point their mother, Claire Clinton, gave Susan a check.  Susan almost choked when she saw that the check was for more than one million dollars.  “What is this?” she exclaimed.
	“It’s your dividend check, Miss Jennings,” Claire replied.  “You see, Don has been very successful since he was discharged from the Marines.  Since none of us would even be alive if it had not been for you — my daughter was correct, I’m afraid — Don and I have given you one-third of the shares in our corporation.  This is just your dividend check for the last two-and-a-half years.”
	Although Susan tried to resist, the Clintons would not hear of it.  She still had their check in her hand when they left.  Jack Smithson said nothing.  He just looked at the members of the court who were all in a state of near shock.
	More witnesses were called to testify.  Several of them had to be forcibly restrained from attacking the former senior camp officers.
	Finally Jack addressed the court and said, “Gentlemen, I have here a list of seventy-three additional witnesses who are prepared to testify similarly.  Admiral, you did not believe Susan Jennings could have been crucified.  There are thirty-five more witnesses who will say that she was and testify that they saw her dying on that cross all day long.  Of course, the testimony is highly repetitive.”
	With a deprecating little smile he asked, “It may be presumptuous of me, but may I ask the Court if it needs to hear any additional witnesses testify to the pattern of prisoner abuse?”
	Adams looked at his colleagues on the court.  All were senior officers with extensive combat experience.  All looked ill.  Every officer shook his head, no.  “Mr. Smithson,” the admiral replied, “You have made your point.  Do you wish to recall Miss Cameron at this time?”
	“No, sir,” Smithson responded.  “Before I do that I would like to introduce testimony on her physical condition at the time she was liberated and testimony bearing on her starvation.  I would like to call the senior medical officer who examined the freed prisoners when they were returned to Saigon, Lt. Col. Douglas Evans.”
	Colonel Evans was called and sworn.  Jack asked him about the general condition of the repatriated prisoners.  His reply was that, with three exceptions, all were emaciated.  He took out a table from his pocket and said that, based on the time of imprisonment compared to estimated weight at the time of capture, the prisoners were losing five to ten pounds per month of captivity.
	“Doctor, you said there were three exceptions.  Who were they, and in what way was their condition exceptional?” Jack asked.
	“The exceptions were the three people sitting over there: General Black, Colonel Simon, and Major Harrison.  They were all, to a significant degree, overweight.  There was one other factor.  Those three were quite pale.  The fact stood out because all of the other ex-prisoners were sunburned.  If their skin tanned, they were burned nearly black.  If it did not they were severely sun blistered.  Several required lengthy hospitalization for burn treatment.”
	“Doctor,” Smithson asked, “did you examine Lt. Virginia Cameron?”
	“Yes, sir, I did,” he replied.
	“What did you find?”
	Consulting his notes Evans said, “Miss Cameron weighed seventy-one pounds when she returned to Saigon.  Her normal weight is in the 115 to 120 pound range, and it could be more.”
	“Doctor, did you inquire about her condition?  And how was her morale?”
	“Her morale was incredibly good,” he replied.  “She had a single all-consuming interest: the whereabouts of Lieutenant Susan Jennings.  She told me how Susan had ‘fattened her up’ — her words, sir.  Her physical condition, though, was appalling.  She said that she had gained perhaps five pounds in the few months prior to her rescue and there were medical signs that supported her statement.  If it was so, however, I find it hard to believe that she remained alive.”
	After questioning Evans about his education and professional qualifications to establish him as an expert witness, he asked, “Doctor, in your professional opinion what would Miss Cameron’s condition have been had she weighed five pounds less — or sixty-six pounds?”
	“She would have been dead, sir.  Or so close to it, it wouldn’t make any difference.  The short answer is that she would have been dying.  Death would have been a matter of minutes — at most a few hours — away,” he replied.
	“Thank you, Doctor,” Jack said.  “There is just one more question.  I show you a uniform shirt and ask if you recognize it?”
	“Yes, sir, I do,” Evans replied.  “It is the shirt Miss Cameron was wearing when she was returned to Saigon.  I remember the identification, JENNINGS, marked inside the collar.”
	“Doctor have you seen this shirt since that day in Saigon?”
	“Yes, sir, I did.  “I saw it again a few weeks ago when you brought it to me.  You asked me to have tests run on some stains that I had not noticed before.”
	“Doctor Evans, did you have the tests run, and, if so, what did you learn?”
	“The tests were run, sir.  These stains — he showed the inside of the shirt to the members of the court — are human blood.  It has been tested by the FBI laboratory in Washington.  There is a positive match and a positive identification.  The blood is Susan Jennings’.  The lab dated the stains to a period of time centered on the date of the prisoners’ release.”
	“Thank you, Doctor.  Are there any other questions?” Jack asked.
	A member of the court asked, “Doctor, is there any doubt about this identification?  What is the chance for error?”
	“Essentially none, sir,” the doctor testified.  “The FBI lab is certain the blood is Miss Jennings’.”
	Next, Jack recalled Ginny to the stand.  She testified how, while Susan was being whipped while shielding her body, she was aware of blood dripping onto her body from Susan’s lacerated back.  “I didn’t realize until a short time ago that the shirt had mopped up the blood that dripped from Susan onto me.”
	“It has come out in previous testimony that you weighed seventy-one pounds at the time of your rescue.  Could you describe for the court you appearance at that time?”
	“I can do a lot better than that,” Ginny replied with a little smile.  “Photographs were taken of me at the time and I have copies with me.”  She produced a set which were labeled for identification and then accepted into evidence.  “If the court wishes,” she continued, “I am willing to strip here now so the members can see the difference in my appearance, then to now.”
	The pictures were passed from hand to hand among the court members.  Jack could see the looks of revulsion as the officers saw the pictures of Ginny as just skin and bones.  Jack asked if there were any other questions.
	After checking with the other members, Adams shook his head.  Then he said, “Thank you, Miss Cameron.  On behalf of the court, I want to thank you for coming in to testify.  I also want to express our pleasure that you have recovered so well from your experience.  There is just one more thing: When did you next see Miss Jennings?”
	“I saw her early last year, sir.  Mr. Jackson brought her to my home.”
	“What was her condition at that time?” the admiral asked.
	“There will be medical testimony on that point later.  However, she weighed eighty-five pounds.  She was still heavily scarred from the whipping years earlier.  And she was the person who save my life and almost lost hers in the process.  She was abandoned on the streets!” Ginny wailed.
	Witness followed witness.  Mike Chapman testified and introduced the photographs of Susan taken at Ginny’s by the press photographer.  The pictures clearly showed both the lacerations and the bullet wounds.  He stressed that it was over four years after the event.
	John Roberts told of the operation to remove the bullets form Susan’s body and how the bullet removal had been greatly complicated by the length of time they had been allowed to remain there.  Finally, he stressed in his testimony the continual excruciating pain Susan had been living with because of the bullets’ presence.
	Finally Jack called Rick Jackson.  After being sworn, he testified that, as a Marine major, he had been in command of the Ranger unit assigned to free the prisoners in the POW camp that reconnaissance had finally located.  He described how he cut Susan free from the cross and carried her to the cave.  He told how he had been hit in the leg during the escape, and then how, in spite of her appalling physical condition she had operated and removed the slug.  Then he told how Susan had mined the bridge and the approaches to their cave, located their other defenses, and then how she had fought off repeated attacks.  Finally he was excused.
	The next witness was Marine Senior Master Gunnery Sergeant Horace Brown.  Brown was now serving in the commandant’s office as the senior noncommissioned officer (NCO) in the Marine Corps.  He had been the senior NCO on the raid to free the prisoners and later on the pickup mission.  He was the man who had carried Susan to the helicopter.
	“Sergeant,” Jack Smithson said, “would you please tell the court in your own words what you saw on the mission to pick up Major Jackson and Miss Jennings?”
	“Yes, sir,” Brown began.  “We came in low in the choppers, in from behind the hill in which the cave was located.  As we cleared the ridge, a person came charging out of the cave and attacked the enemy massing further down the hill for a final assault on the cave.  But she hit them first.  She — it was Miss Jennings, of course, sir — hit them with an Armalite and grenades.  By the time we got on the ground it was all over.  The enemy were all dead.”
	“Did you count the enemy casualties?” Smithson asked.
	“Yes, sir, we did,” he replied.  “There were seventy-seven enemy dead at the location of her firefight.  Then there were lots of other casualties all over the place.  She had emplaced a light machine gun at the mouth of the cave that did a lot of damage.  Then there was the characteristic pattern of exploding Claymores that took out a bunch more.
	“I reached Miss Jennings as she started to collapse.  The right side of the combat jacket she was wearing was just soaked with her blood.  She was losing consciousness, but I could hear her say, ‘Get Rick’s body.  It’s in the cave.’  A couple of my men went to retrieve the body, but then we found he was still alive.  Anyway, we bailed out as fast as we could to get them both back to medical care.  After all, sir, our primary mission was to get them out, not waste time counting bodies.  So we did.”
	“What happened to Miss Jennings when you got back to Saigon?” Jack asked.
	“She was rushed off in an ambulance.  We thought she was being rushed to the hospital.  It’s certainly where they should have taken her.”  Brown shook his head like a bear and continued, “I expected to be a part of a big award ceremony for her, sir.  We never saw or heard of anything like what she did that day.”
	Looking over at Susan he smiled and said, “Miss Jennings, I guess I’m not supposed to say this, but over the last few weeks I have heard from almost all of the men who were with me that day on the pickup mission.  They all asked me to give you our very best wishes, and to express their pleasure that you look so good now.”
	In spite of his dark complexion, everyone in the court could see Horace Brown blushing as he added, “And, Miss, begging your pardon, convey our love.”
	Brown was a very big man — nearly six fee four inches tall and weighing 245 pounds.  He joked about his name, claiming that it should be Black because he was as black as the ace of spades.
	“Aside from her wounds, what sort of condition was Miss Jennings in?” Smithson asked.
	“She was emaciated, sir.  I swear, she didn’t weigh much more than one of our combat packs.  I didn’t realize how light she was and almost threw her into the air.”
	Taking a chance with the court, Smithson asked, “Sergeant Brown, are you a good judge of weight?”
	“I think so, sir,” was the reply.
	“Then, Sergeant, would you be willing to pick up Miss Jennings now and estimate her weight?”  Brown looked at the admiral who looked back and forth at his colleagues.  Then he shrugged and indicated it was all right.  Brown got up from the witness chair and went to where Susan was sitting.  She rose and smiled at him.  Then he picked her up effortlessly in his arms.  It was so effortless, he even bounced her a little.
	Then Susan wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “I never had the chance before, Sergeant.  Thank you for saving my life.”  Then she melted her lips against his.  The power of her kiss almost caused the huge man to fall over.
	Brown put Susan back on the floor, handling her as if she were made of the finest china.  Then he just ran his fingers over his lips and stared at her.  He put out his hand, Susan took it firmly and looked up at him.  “Miss Jennings,” he said, “Thank you for coming back to us.  And I’m so happy you’re looking so well.  You are the most beautiful woman in the whole world!”  Brown returned to the witness chair.
	“How much do you think Miss Jennings weighs now?” Jack asked.
	“Well, sir, she is in utterly perfect condition now!  I would estimate about forty pounds heavier than she did then — between 110 and 115.  I would estimate 112.”
	Susan grinned at him and said, “It was 112 this morning — but that was before lunch.”  Brown was excused and Jack proceeded with his presentation.
	Stacks of signed forms from the Red Cross were introduced in evidence.  They were forms certifying receipt and distribution to the prisoners of various parcels that had been flowing to the prison camp in an uninterrupted stream.  All were certified by Black with either Simon or Harrison concurring.
	Finally he called Susan to the stand.  She told of meeting Ginny and other events in the camp.  Then Jack brought the questioning around to the court-martial charges.  “Miss Jennings, you were found guilty by a General Court-martial of ‘consorting with the enemy.’  Did you ever have sexual relations with the guards?”
	“Yes, sir, I did,” Susan held her head up straight and said quietly.  “I did it frequently.”
	“For what purpose?”
	“Usually to obtain medical supplies.  Sometimes it was for food,” she replied calmly.
	“Mr. Clinton was made to watch while you had sex with the guards to obtain his medicine.  Was that a common occurrence?”
	“For the last half of my stay it was,” Susan said calmly.  “One of the guards said it was Judith Harrison’s idea.  She wanted all the prisoners to be able to see my filthy cunt.”
	If anything, she held her head up even higher as she continued, “I believe it backfired, though.  Mostly, I could see the men crying as they realized what I was doing.  And in spite of my filth, mostly they wanted to kiss me to thank me,” she said.
	“How much did you weigh when you were taken prisoner?” Smithson asked.
	“I’m not sure, sir.  I guess between 115 and 120.  That was my normal weight range at the time.”
	“Therefore, Miss Jennings, you were convicted of ‘consorting with the enemy’ to obtain preferential treatment.  Yet when you were rescued you weighed seventy-two pounds, a loss of at least forty.  Moreover, your body was cut to ribbons and you carried three bullets in your body.  In your opinion, Miss Jennings, is this preferential treatment?”
	Susan just shook her head.
	“What do you remember of your court-martial?” he asked quietly.
	“Nothing at all, sir,” she replied.  “I was not aware of anything.  I guess it was a year or so afterward that I learned it had happened.”
	At that point Admiral Adams abruptly adjourned the court.  While the rest of the people left, he asked his fellow court members to stay for a few minutes.
* * *
	The next morning when Admiral Adams called the court to order, Jack prepared to resume his examination of Susan.  Instead, the admiral held his hand up in a signal to stop.  “Mr. Smithson,” he said, “We would like to interrupt these proceedings.”
	Turning to the others he said, “General Black, do you, Colonel Simon, or Major Harrison, have anything you would like to say to this court?  If you do, this is your opportunity.  However, it is my duty to warn you now that anything you say may later be used against you in court-martial proceedings.  Do you understand?”
	Black looked thoroughly defeated.  He looked at his partners, then told the court that he understood his rights and declined to make a statement.
	After asking the other parties if there was anything they wished to add to their testimony and receiving negative replies, Adams looked at his colleagues and received an affirmative nod from each of them.
	Then looking at Jack he said, “Mr. Smithson, thank you for your excellent presentation and for all the help you have provided to this court.  We have heard enough.
	“It is the finding of this Court of Inquiry that Brigadier General Homer Black, Lieutenant Colonel Charles Simon, and Major Judith Harrison be held for trial by General Court-martial.  There will be an array of charges beginning with consorting with the enemy and including the attempted murder of Lieutenant Susan Jennings, U.S. Navy Nurse Corps and First Lieutenant Virginia Cameron, U.S. Army, retired.
	“General Court-martial charges will also be brought against Lieutenant Commander Warren Judkins for dereliction of duty, obstruction of justice, and attempted murder.  Similar charges will be filed against Commander John Henderson, along with a few more.  Similarly, charges will be brought against the then-Medical Director of the Naval Hospital at Subic Bay, Captain Warren Holmes.
	“This brings us to Lieutenant Susan Jennings.  It is the unanimous finding of this court that Miss Jennings’ conduct was exemplary.  But words fail the court.  Exemplary means, according to a dictionary we consulted last night, ‘worthy of imitation, commendable.’  That definition does not do it!  It does not fit the circumstances of Miss Jennings’ actions.  One cannot expect anyone to sacrifice her life for others, and yet that is exactly what Miss Jennings did.  Dozens of witnesses listed hundreds of vivid examples of her doing just that.  We can only stand in awe.
	“Then there is the episode at the cave and her attack on the enemy forces.  Standing alone, it is worthy of the highest honors this nation can bestow.  Taken with the other events, and coupled with her ruined physical condition, words fail us.  They are totally inadequate to the task.
	“Finally, there is the disgraceful series of events including the court-martial and its aftermath.  We can only accept it for what it is: a nation’s utter disgrace!  We have already named several people who will await trial by courts martial.  There will be more:  The people who prevented you from being treated, and those who prevented you from getting any kind of job.  The people who so obviously wanted you dead, buried, and forgotten.  I promise you, we will bring them to justice.”
	Sitting up as straight as he could, Adams continued, “The findings and sentence of the Subic Bay court-martial are hereby set aside.  The court will urge that a Presidential pardon be immediately given to Miss Jennings.  You are hereby immediately reinstated in your former rank with all back pay and allowances to the time of that court-martial.  We can only offer our deepest personal and professional apologies to you for the incredible pain you have been made to suffer for so long.
	“Finally, Susan, we humbly beg you to forgive us for what has been done to you.  We cannot ask.  We have no right even to mention it.  And most certainly, you should never forgive us.”  Adams looked into her brilliant blue eyes and smiled.  “We believe you will, though.  You should not, but you will.  Why?  Because of the person you are: A person who cheerfully sacrifices her life for others.
	“Miss Cameron — who, as Marcia Matthews has achieved brilliant and well-deserved success in the films — said it best: ‘Greater love hath no man than he who lays down his life for a friend.’  She is right, of course.  Susan Jennings, on behalf of myself, the fellow members of this court, and the people of the United States of America, I can only say humbly, thank you.”  Tears were streaming from his eyes and it was all he could do to say, “This court is adjourned.”
	Tears were streaming down Susan’s cheeks as she was mobbed at her table by well-wishers.  Finally she was able to get free.  Going up to the court she thanked each member individually.  In each case the officer blushed.  Finishing with Admiral Adams, she said, “Thank you, Admiral.  I cannot thank you enough.”
	Adams looked at her and just shook his head.  “Susan, you are doing exactly what I expected you to do.  However, my dear, there is one more thing.  You can sue the government for millions of dollars, and you should.  What happened to you was truly a national disgrace.  You suffered to a degree and in ways that are utterly barbaric.”
	He smiled warmly and continued, “Now you are the most beautiful woman any of us have ever seen.  You are utterly exquisite.  I want to wish you every possible happiness — happiness few people have ever so richly deserved.”
	When she kissed him full on the lips, Adams almost fell over from the incredible power of Susan’s love.

Epilogue
	Susan Jennings was standing on the reviewing stand at the U.S. Naval Base at San Diego.  The stand was draped in bunting and faced with the seal of the President of the United States.  Wearing her new white dress uniform as a Commander in the U.S. Navy Nurse Corps, she looked gorgeous with her glowing tan, golden hair, and brilliant blue eyes.  The President had just awarded her the Purple Heart.
	Then he smiled at her and addressed the crowd.  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are her today for a unique event.  The rarest award for valor in our armed forces is the Medal of Honor.  It is the highest award for bravery in combat our nation can bestow.  In modern times a tiny handful of people have received it twice.  Never in our entire history had anyone received two of these medals at once.
	“History is being made here today.  It gives me great pleasure to award to Commander Susan Jennings, U.S. Navy Nurse Corps, retired, two Medals of Honor.  The first is for her work in a prisoner-of-war camp in which she saved the lives of hundreds of her fellow prisoners with a total disregard for her own.  Facing me this morning are over 300 people who were her fellow prisoners in Vietnam.  They have come here on their own to pay tribute to the woman to whom they owe their very lives.  There is nothing more I can say.
	“The second medal is for bravery and gallantry in action against the enemy in which, again with a total disregard for her own life, she singlehandedly attacked and wiped out an enemy force of seventy-seven men.  Commander Jennings, please step forward!”
	He hung the two medals around her neck side by side.  Then he took her in his arms and kissed her on the cheek whispering, “Susan, I read the entire transcript of the trial.  I can only pray that you have many children and just a tiny bit of their mother’s incredible courage rubs off on each of them.  Thank you.”
	The band struck up and the command was given to pass in review.  Susan saw the first detachment was from the Marines.  Tears flowed down her cheeks as she realized it was commanded by Rick, back in uniform for the day.  His chest was also shining with medals, including the Navy Cross.  In the first sergeant’s position was Horace Brown who gave her the most impressive salute she had ever seen.  Then she was stunned to realize that the navy contingent was being personally commanded by Vice Admiral Charles Adams.  Tears started to stream down her cheeks as she realized the extent of this personal tribute.
	Finally, it was over.  She met Rick Jackson who was with Sergeant Brown.  When she came up to them, Brown again gave her a meticulous salute to convey the depth of his respect for her.  She teased them by saying it was a good thing they were together, because all she had to do was look for the biggest person present and there the sergeant was.
	After giving Rick a very warm kiss, she said with a big grin, “Guess what?”
	“What?” he responded, returning the grin.  “Except that the Commander looks absolutely gorgeous — and, of course, now outranks me.”
	“I just got my check,” she said.  “The President brought it out with him.  Apparently they backdated a couple of promotions so I got over $200,000.  Now, along with the Clinton money, I can even afford a wedding dress.  But darling, are you sure you still want to marry me?”
	“Are you kidding?” Rick asked incredulously.  “Wait till I get you home!  Damned right I’m sure.”
The End
	Let me hear from you.