The American Patient
by Emma Redmer

Disclaimer: The WENN staff belong to Rupert Holmes, Howard Meltzer Productions, and a certain cable channel whose name I will -not- mention. The story is mine.

Author's Note: This is set between "The Sunset Also Rises" and "All Noisy on the Pittsburgh Front."

Betty Roberts sat in the green room of radio station WENN staring at a script. The script was the newest masterpiece from the pen of Miss Gertrude Reece, WENN's secretary and receptionist. Gertie herself sat across from Betty, looking on eagerly as her fellow "wordsworth" read the papers. "I promise, Betty, I kept it simple this time. It's just a quiet little romance about two people who meet and fall head over heels in love. No burring dead baboons, no divas tripping writers in baby pools, no Rabat, no letters of transmit, no dead narrators, and I actually came up with a plausible ending."

Betty sighed. Gertie never did think of a really good ending for her first radio play "Rendevouz in Rabat", and her teleplay "The Sunset Also Rises" was so bizarre that it had to be heavily edited before its eventual presentation as a radio drama. She only hoped that Gertie's words were true. "Well, ok, Gertie. Title, 'The American Patient'. Page one. We open in a private room in a Swiss hospital. Volunteer Nurse Elizabeth Robertson sits by a hospital bed, tending to a weak, pale, but handsome man."

Volunteer Nurse Elizabeth Robertson was no stranger to the sight of pain and suffering. Healing the sick and wounded was part of her job. The poor man who had been brought in that day, however, was one of the sickest that Elizabeth had seen in a long time. Judging by the remains of his uniform, he was a member of the British Army troop stationed on the border between Switzerland and Germany.

The dark-haired person's identity was a total mystery, an enigma. Someone had slashed his cheek with a blunt instrument and horsewhipped his back until it bled. He was found wandering the side of the hill where the Swiss Hospital was located. His leg was broken, his clothing tattered to the point of non-existence, and he had no idea who he was or what he was doing out in the freezing cold. Elizabeth dressed his wounds, set his broken limb, bathed him, and got him into a warm bed in a private ward.

The young nurse wondered who the person who had made such a baffling entrance was. Any identification that might have been on his uniform was long gone by the time tourists found him on the mountainside. He must have gotten on someone's bad side, Elizabeth thought. Perhaps he escaped from a Nazi prisoner-of-war camp. He looked so gentle and helpless, lying on the bed. He was as pale as the sheet he lay under.

Elizabeth spent three days wondering about her new patient. All that was known about him was that he was an American who had somehow joined the British Army. Where did he come from? What was his name? She invented all sorts of identities for the poor creature who snored lightly in the tiny private ward. Her friend Dr. Douglas Thompson teased her about her obsession with the mystery man. "For all you know, he could be a Nazi," he admonished.

Elizabeth only shrugged and gazed at a photo she kept on her person at all times. It was a small picture of a tall, handsome, slightly balding man in a British Army uniform. He was Captain Vincent Comstock, her former sweetheart. Elizabeth loved him so much. She even came to Switzerland to be with him when he was stationed in Geneva. She couldn't go with him, however, when his superior sent him on a highly secret mission to Berlin. The day he left was one of the most agonizing of her life.

"Elizabeth, I promise, I will come back to you. I don't know how and I don't know when, but I will be there."

Four long months passed before Elizabeth got word from Berlin. Vincent died when the British bombed the government building that he was working in. Her heart broke when she heard the news. She threw herself into her work after that and swore that she would never permit herself to fall in love again. Love only led to heartache and hurt.

The American patient awoke on the afternoon of the third day after his arrival. Elizabeth was tidying the area around his bed when she heard a grumble and a groan. "Hey," a hoarse voice complained, "watch that pillow nurse, will ya?"

Elizabeth jumped away from the bed and met the now-open chocolate-brown eyes of her patient. They were very large and puppy-like. They were also very dazed.

"Where am I?" he asked vaguely as he tried to sit up. "More importantly, who am I?"

Elizabeth was by his side in an instant. She gently pushed him back down on his bed. "Lay down, now," she said. "Some tourists found you limping on the mountain near here. This is the Swiss Hospital. My name is Volunteer Nurse Elizabeth Robertson."

"Gertie," Betty told the hopeful switchboard operator, "you've gone from stories with too much action to stories with too little!"

"I'm building up the characters, Betty," Gertie explained. "It gets better later on. Keep reading."

"Gosh," murmured the patient, "you're a beautiful woman."

Elizabeth couldn't help the blush that crept across her cheeks. "Thank you, sir."

He gazed at her hopefully. "Do you know who I am, Liz? I really can't remember. I suppose I must have known once." He grinned. Elizabeth liked his grin. It spread from one dimple to the other. "I wouldn't have had any kind of identification on me, would I?"

"No," Elizabeth replied. "Your uniform was in shreds and the few papers in the remains of your pockets only said that you're American. Any other identifying mark was torn up or lost."

"I'm American," the man said softly to himself, as if he were trying to get used to the idea. "I think I remember America. There was an ocean, the Atlantic Ocean, and beautiful beaches and towns with homes and cars and people. I didn't want that, so I think I sailed around the world." He got a little closer to her. "Didja ever try to eat a barnacle?"

"No."

"Don't." He shook his head as if to clear it. "It's amazing, Liz. I can recall a schooner, a beautiful second hand schooner, and exotic ports of call like Madagascar and Calcutta, but I can't recall my own name or how I wound up in the Swiss Hospital feeling like I've been horsewhipped."

"You have been horsewhipped," she told him. Elizabeth was intrigued. "I've never met anyone who's been to places like that before. Can you remember what it was like to visit those countries?"

Elizabeth tried to ignore the feelings that were welling up inside of her as she listened to the American patient. She hadn't felt this way about anyone since Vincent…no! She would not think of him! The American patient needed her full attention. The patient was an attractive man even with his cheek and forehead bandaged. He spoke eloquently and enthusiastically and whether he'd actually seen these places or not, he was a wonderful storyteller. She wondered what he would be like when he was strong and healthy. She was so caught up in her daydream about him and Vincent that she hadn't realized that he had stopped speaking.

"You seem kinda out of it, Liz," he noticed. "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, nothing," she sighed. "Just thinking about someone."

"Family, old boyfriend?" Elizabeth thought that she might have heard jealousy in the American patient's voice.

"Old boyfriend." She wasn't certain why she felt so comfortable around this man. Neither of them knew his name, or who he was. She knew that he liked to travel and had owned a schooner, but other than that, he was still a mystery.

"Oh. Understood completely. Like I said, you're a beautiful woman. A man would have to be a fool not to care about you." He smiled that cock-eyed smile again. "Are you sure I can't sit up today? I would sure like to see the Swiss Hospital with you, and maybe have a little dinner in the hospital cafeteria afterwards?"

She grinned right back. She was well aware of these kinds of tricks. "Oh, no you don't. You're not going anywhere until your leg and head have healed. And I wouldn't eat the food in the cafeteria if I were you. There's a rumor going around that the Salisbury Steak is actually a top-secret Nazi experiment that is being sent out to every kitchen in Europe." She turned to find Dr. Thompson and ask how the very pregnant fruit truck driver's wife was coming around, but the American patient took her arm in his hand.

"No, Liz, don't go. I'll behave, I promise." He drew her closer to him. "Liz," he asked her softly, "do you believe in love at first sight?"

"No." I must not let myself fall for him, but I don't want to lose him. Remember Vincent, Elizabeth! Love will only hurt you! And you don't know who this man is, or why he's here! All you know is that you've fallen in love with a man who has no identity. Admit it, Elizabeth, you love him. You've got to jog his memory and find out who he is. If you don't, his past may haunt both of you forever. "Well, maybe yes." She put her arms around him and looked into his eyes.

Hilary sauntered into the room at that instant. "Betty, the script for 'The Hands of Time' was a little on the slow side today. Try to keep it moving, will you, dear?" She walked over to the two women with a fresh cup of Ingram's Coffee. "What's this?" she asked, gesturing at the script with one hand and holding the cup with the other.

"It's my new script, Hilary," Gertie explained. "It's a two-character romance about a beautiful young nurse and her patient. They slowly find out who he really is and fall helplessly in love with each other."

Hilary nearly spit out her coffee. "Oh, no, no, Gertie, you have this all wrong! What this romance needs is someone who is a genuine actress, who'll get the audience's hearts pumping."

Elizabeth was about to kiss the American patient when a beautiful woman in a sleek, thick fur coat and matching hat and muff walked into the room like she owned it. Elizabeth quickly untangled herself from the man and went to find out what the woman wanted.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but this is a private ward," She told the woman.

The woman was a real beauty, with thick auburn hair and large brown eyes. The American patient was staring at her strangely, as if he were trying hard to remember something that eluded him. She stripped off her accessories to reveal a long, fancy black silk gown.

"Why, surely you know who I am?" the woman asked in surprise. "I'm Hilane Breckinridge, the famous stage actress, of course."

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously. She knew who Hilane Breckinridge was. The actress toured the world in her popular vehicle 'The Rivals'. The last time she was in the news was when she was divorcing her husband, young actor Jeff Chanteur.

"I was performing in 'The Rivals' in Berlin when the Nazis decided that they wanted all Americans out of the city or all Americans would literally wind up in front of a firing squad," Hilane explained. "Two Swiss freedom fighters got me out of the country and said that I should wait here for them." She smiled. "You're probably in shock. After all, it's not every day that you meet a great American actress like myself here in Switzerland."

"No, Miss Breckinridge," Elizabeth started, "it's not that. It's just-"

Hilane noticed the confused American patient before Elizabeth could continue. "YOU!!!" She shrieked. "What are you doing here Steven Sherwood, you conniving cad of a con man! You cheated my husband - ex-husband and I out of $6,400 three years ago! I can't believe that we believed all of that nonsense about that radio game show and a big agency!" He looked perplexed. "Surely you recall me and the money you cheated out of Jeff and I and that ridiculous fake agency you created, not to mention the rigged game show you got us to appear on?"

Steven, if that was his name, shrugged. "I'm sorry, lady," he said, "but I have no idea of what you're talking about. I never did take to the theater. No second feature, no cartoon, no popcorn."

"Ooooohhhhh!" squealed Hilane. She stomped over to the bed and shook her finger at Steven. "You listen to me, you crafty criminal, if you don't remember who you are and what you did to me by the time I get back in this room, I'll see to it that your other limbs are broken into more pieces than a pizza pie!" She composed herself as she faced a befuddled Elizabeth. "Nurse, would you work on his memory while I retrieve a cup of hot coffee and something resembling a meal?" She didn't give Elizabeth the chance to answer. The nurse and her patient watched the famous stage star hurry out of the ward.

"I should have warned her about the Salisbury Steak," Elizabeth fretted. She returned to her patient, who was looking after Hilane with a thoughtful look on his face. "Is that your name?" she asked. "Steven Sherwood?"

"Hilane Breckinridge sure seems to think so, and who am I to argue with a woman like that?"

Elizabeth knew who Steven Sherwood was. Everyone in the world knew Steven Sherwood. He was, indeed, a famed con artist, playboy, and world traveler. She'd heard stories of the people he had lied to and cheated, but she had never seen him. He wasn't like her Vincent, who had been noble and moral.

"Liz," the patient murmured so softly that she almost didn't hear him, "I think I do remember Hilane and Jeff Chanteur."

Elizabeth came back to earth again. "You do? You can remember something? Please, tell me more."

"I-I did scam them." He smiled and laughed. "It was one of my most brilliant ideas. The Chanteurs were in desperate need of a job. I set up a phony talent agency and promised them that I'd get them on Broadway if they gave me $6,400. I was running another con, a radio quiz show I rigged, and I needed judges. So, to make a long story short, I had them appear as judges on the program. They weren't happy, let me tell you that. I never got them any closer to Broadway than a warehouse in Queens."

Elizabeth sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed skeptically at her patient. "How is it that you can't remember your name but you can remember your scams?"

"It must have been the sound of Hilane screeching at me that shook that memory loose." Steven took Elizabeth's hand. "LizzyLizzyLizzy, you aren't going to hold this against me, are you?" he asked, his face getting all puppy-dog like again. "I do like you. I'll show you the world when I get better." He crossed his heart. "I'll never pull another scam again on anyone, Scout's honor."

Elizabeth found herself attracted to Steven again. No!

"Hilary!" Jeff Singer, Hilary's hus..uh, ex-husband, snapped as he stormed into the green room. "Thanks for leaving me in the middle of a passionate love scene! I finished it with Eugenia and she giggled every time Brent tried to pitch woo to Elizabeth!"

"Maybe you should have pitched a ball to Elizabeth instead," Hilary snarled back. "It might have been more interesting."

"Could you two please bark at each other somewhere else?" Betty asked them in annoyance. "I'm reading Gertie's newest script and I can't hear myself think."

"Preferably somewhere far, far away, like the moon," added Gertie under her breath.

Jeff grabbed the fourth seat and settled down next to Hilary. She got up to refill her coffee cup and stick her tongue out at him.

Gertie recounted her radio play thus far to Jeff. He stopped her when she got to the description of the mysterious and bed-ridden American patient.

"Your only major male character is a sick amnesiac who's not even allowed to leave his hospital room? Gertie, what you need is a leading man who can walk and move around. Someone who's tall and handsome and young and strong and dashing."

"Oh," Hilary said as she returned to the table with her coffee, "are we going to get Tyrone Power to appear on this program?"

A tall, handsome young man rushed into the ward as Elizabeth leaned toward the mysterious American patient. He immediately turned to Elizabeth.

"Excuse me, nurse, but have you seen a Miss Hilane Breckinridge? I absolutely must speak with her. It's a matter of great importance!"

Elizabeth pointed down the hall. "She just left to get a cup of coffee. She should be back any minute now."

Hilane breezed in at that moment. The second she caught sight of the young man, she hurled the coffee cup at him. He ducked with the ease of one who has spent a great deal of his life getting out of the way of identified flying objects. The cup shattered against the windowsill. Coffee splattered over the cracked plaster wall. "Jeff Chanteur, what are you doing here! I took this tour to get away from you, not to have you follow me!"

"I was doing work with the British government in Berlin when I heard about the Germans raiding the theater that housed 'The Rivals'. I was worried sick, so I pulled some red tape and went looking for you. Those two Swiss freedom fighters said that you were here cooling your heels and waiting for their instructions, so I thought I'd keep you company."

"You have Pavletta Nellicoa the Czeckslovachian trollop to keep you company," Hilane hissed. "After all, she is your new wife."

"Hilane, please, my explanation holds water! You must listen to me!" Jeff wailed. He then noticed the American patient. He, like his former spouse, exploded the minute he saw him. "Steven Sherwood! What are you doing here? I thought that with all of your money you could afford something better than a cramped little ward in a Swiss hospital in the middle of nowhere."

The American patient, or Steven, squeezed Elizabeth's hand a little tighter. "There's no place like the Swiss Hospital, Jeff. I think I'm quite comfortable where I am."

"He remembers you?" gasped Hilane. Elizabeth looked at all three of them in surprise. "He didn't remember me when I first came in this room, or what he had done to us three years ago in New York!"

"You can't remember that ridiculous game show and how you humiliated both of us when it turned out that the game show was a fake and your big agency was a fraud? We lost $6,400 on that venture!"

Elizabeth flung her arms protectively around Steven. "Please, Mr. Chanteur, keep your voice down! Mr. Sherwood, if this is your Mr. Sherwood, has been through severe trauma and can't remember who he is, much less who you are!"

"Jeff, how are you?" Steven said with a weak smile. Even in his condition, he knew that he had been caught.

"You do remember! Let me at him!" Jeff lunged for Steven. Hilane held him back and Elizabeth tightened her grip around the unfortunate patient.

"Whoa, down boy!" exclaimed Steven. "I said I can vaguely remember how I scammed the two of you. I didn't say I could remember everything!"

"I'm going to have to ask you two to leave if you continue to excite the patient like this!" Elizabeth scolded the angry couple.

"We'd love to leave," Hilane reminded them, "but as you may recall, we're awaiting orders from the Swiss freedom fighters who sent us here." She looked at her watch. "What's taking them so long? I want to get back to my touring and get as far away from Jeff as I possibly can," she said.

"Oh, no, you don't. I'm going wherever you go. I'll haunt you for the rest of your life, Hilane Breckinridge."

Elizabeth turned back to Steven. He still had that weak smile on his face. "Thanks for defending my person, Liz."

"My pleasure." Steven drew her closer to him.

"Hiya, folks, whaddya doin'?" asked Maple LaMarsh as she came into the green room. She saw everyone crowded around the table and peered over Betty's shoulder. "Is that a script for one of tomorrow's shows?"

Gertie was starting to look a little flustered. "No, it's the romantic play that I wrote. Betty, go on before we get interrupted again!"

Betty was explaining the play to Maple when Mackie pushed through the swinging doors. "Hey, Maple, Hilary, Jeff, hurry up, will ya? I left Scott reading the morning news and if we don't get back in there he may start inventing his own news just to jazz up the proceedings."

Maple ignored Mackie. Her eyes lit up when Betty began to talk about the Swiss freedom fighters that had brought Hilane Breckinridge and Jeff Chanteur to the Swiss Hospital. She turned to Mackie and grinned. "Hey, Mackie, we would be swell in those parts! It would be kinda like doing 'Amazon Andy' in Switzerland!"

"Now, look here, folks, this is my script," Gertie began. "I'll decide on the characters. I only wanted to show it to Betty."

Mackie took the script out of Betty's hands. "Yeah, I could see where this would work."

As Steven drew Elizabeth closer to him, two people dressed in native Swiss clothing came rushing into the room. They were in such a hurry that they almost ran into Steven's bed. The woman was tall, curvaceous, and redheaded; the man was short, balding, and middle-aged. The woman began gathering Hilane's fur and accessories. The man took Jeff's hand and began leading him to the door. Everyone else in the room was confused.

The woman spoke in a heavy (and, to be honest, rather fake-sounding) Swiss accent. "Frauline Breckinridge and Herr Chanteur, you must leave here at once." She started to wrap the fur around a none-too-happy looking Hilane.

"Yah," added the man. "Gretchen and I saw Nazis coming this way. They are searching for Americans. We fear that they may be after both of you."

"That's silly," snapped Hilane. "I'm an actress, not a spy."

"In some quarters, Frauline, they are considered one and the same," Gretchen told her.

Jeff pulled his hand away from the man and turned to his ex-wife. "Hilane," he said in a worried tone, "it might be me that the Nazis are after. I'm working for the British government, remember."

"But your job isn't all that important!" Hilane wailed. "Is it?"

The moment Gretchen saw Steven she ran to him and hugged him. Steven looked a little surprised. "Herr Sherwood! I did not think I would ever see you again! What are you doing here? I thought that you said that you were through with war after Guernica went poof like a bomb."

His expression was more confused than ever. "Spain? Guernica? What are you talking about?"

"He has amnesia," Elizabeth explained. "We're trying to revive his memory, but it's slow going."

Gretchen's partner let Jeff go and joined his companion by the bed. "You cannot recall us, Herr Sherwood, or the codes you made for us? You were very brave. You almost did not make it out of Spain alive. We helped you, Gretchen and I."

"Everything is a code to me these days," Steven sighed sadly. His eyes suddenly popped open. "I think I remember Spain. It's all very cloudy. Didn't I do cryptography during the Spanish Civil War?"

"Yah!" said both of the Swiss citizens in unison.

"Yeah, I remember-I remember you guys. It was either I broke codes or I my body got broken by some of the Spanish government's better assassins." Steven laughed weakly. "I preferred breaking codes at the time."

Gretchen placed her hand gently under Steven's back. "Georg and I will help you escape this place, just like we're helping Frauline Breckinridge and Herr Chanteur," she assured him "You cannot stay here. It is dangerous for a person who has done something not with Nazis."

"Those Nazis do not like being told no," Georg told them fearfully. "They do bad things to people who tell them no, like tickling them until they laugh to death."

Elizabeth pushed the woman's hand away. "He's not going anywhere, Frauline Gretchen. His leg is fractured in too many places to mention and he's as weak as a newborn kitten."

"Besides," shrugged Steven, "I'm not sure I really am Steven Sherwood. There's still a lot that I can't seem to recollect."

The sound of men in the hallway startled everyone. Hilane gulped. "I think," she said tentatively, "that Jeff and I should get out of the country as quickly as possible."

Jeff took her hands. "Oh, darling, does this mean that you'll marry me again?"

She shoved them away. "No, it means that I'm going to get away from Europe and back to my tour and my 'Rivals'. Why don't you go ask Pavletta if she wants a second honeymoon?" She took her things and strode out. Jeff followed her in anger and frustration. Gretchen and Georg moved to leave as well.

"I am sorry about your condition, Herr Sherwood." Georg said. "I hope you feel better and can recall your life very soon."

"Yah!" added Gretchen enthusiastically. She stroked Steven's unbandaged cheek. "I have missed you since you left me. Maybe we can be two ships that go bump in the night soon again, yah?" She hurried off to find Georg. Elizabeth shot Steven a suspicious look.

"How nice," she grumbled sarcastically.

"Liz," Steven stammered, "Gretchen and I were just friends-I think. Even if we were something else before, my old life is over. I want to start a new life with you."

"How can I believe you when you don't even know who you are?" Elizabeth asked. "Even if you did know who you were, the person that everyone seems to think you are isn't the kind of person I think I want to know."

"How can I change your mind about me, Liz?" Steven practically begged her.

"Well, you can do this," Elizabeth gazed into his warm brown eyes, and as she got nearer to him.

Mr. Eldridge shuffled into the green room with the coffeepot in his hands. He saw all the people sitting around the table and smiled. "Oh, hello, everyone. I just came in to make some more Ingram's Coffee. Are we having a party?"

"No, Mr. Eldridge," Betty told the old man, "I'm just reading Gertie's new script to everyone, and they're giving her some ideas."

"Oh, we're playing a game!" said Mr. Eldridge in delight. "Can I play too?"

Elizabeth was about to kiss Steven when an old man wandered into the room. "Oh, hello, Frauline Nurse. Am I interrupting something?"

Elizabeth and Steven were both beginning to get a little annoyed. "Sir," said Elizabeth through gritted teeth, "this is a private ward! What do you want? If you're a freedom fighter, Hilane Breckinridge and Jeff Chanteur just left with Herr Georg and Frouline Gretchen."

"And if you're a Nazi, I've never heard of any of those people," Steven added.

The old man shook his head no. "Oh, I'm only Herr Eldridge, the clock maker. I just came here to ask for a cup of sugar for my Ingram's Coffee."

Elizabeth heaved a loud and irritated sigh. "The cafeteria is downstairs, first door to your left."

"Bless you nurse!" said Herr Eldridge. "You don't know how hard it is to find good sugar these days."

Elizabeth burst out laughing as the old man shuffled out the door. "It must be pretty hard to find sugar if he had to hike all the way up the Alps through a snowstorm and into a private hospital ward!"

"Now," whispered Steven, taking her hands, "where were we? Oh, yes, we were about to do this."

Eugenia and Mr. Foley entered the green room. Eugenia was chattering at a mile a minute and not allowing poor Mr. Foley to get a word in edgewise.

"Mr. Foley and I overheard your story, Gertie," Eugenia said, "and we have some wonderful ideas for it!" She elbowed her colleague. "Tell them about our ideas, Mr. Foley!"

Two people thumped into the room as Elizabeth and Steven looked away from each other, suddenly embarrassed. The first person was short and plump and the second was short and slim. Both were dressed in bright red and blue uniforms. The woman held a conductor's stick.

"Pardon me, Frauline Nurse, but we seemed to have lost our way," the woman said. "My name is Frau Euga, the music shop owner. This is my assistant, Herr Foley." The little man bowed. "I'm conducting the Swiss Army Choir's big recital tonight and Herr Foley is going to accompany my singers. We'll be on the radio and everything!"

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm sorry, Frau Euga, but this is a private ward in the Swiss Hospital. The town and the Swiss Army are miles away."

Herr Foley had wandered over to Steven's bed. He took one look at the pale, ill man and his mouth fell open in shock. Euga recognized him, too. "Herr Sherwood, what are you doing here?" She laughed and threw her arms around him. "Do you still play piano like you used to?" She gazed up at Elizabeth and smiled. "Herr Sherwood could play the piano like Mozart. He used to play in my shop to help bring in the customers. We would do-it together"

"You mean duet," the American patient corrected her. Steven actually appeared to be blushing. "Aw, quit it Euga, I'm not that good."

"Oh, but you are!" the little woman insisted. Herr Foley kept pulling at Steven's ear and gently slapping his face. "Do you still play that old song, 'Remember When,' the one that Grace Cavendish sang for us?"

"Euga, I can't remember how to play the piano. I don't even know if I'm who everyone says I am."

"Well, it was nice seeing you, Herr Sherwood," Euga said as she checked her watch. "Come along, Herr Foley. We're going to be late!" The two musicians rushed out of the ward.

"You attract an interesting crowd, Steven Sherwood," Elizabeth said as she locked the door to the room. "I'm afraid to ask who's going to come in here next."

Steven appeared to be far away. "Yeah," he murmured, "I recall Euga and Herr Foley. They were some really nice people. I thought I'd try to scam them at first with some fast talk about Trans-Siberian mail planes. They gave me chocolate and Swiss cheese and took me in when the rest of the village outlawed me because of my reputation. They gave me a home, at least for a little while. Helping them in their shop was the least I could do, after all they'd done for me."

Elizabeth felt genuinely proud of her American patient. "Your memory seems to be improving, Steven."

"You don't forget people like Euga and Herr Foley," said Steven. "They are truly one of a kind." He took her hands again and rubbed them. "Kinda like you, Liz." He gazed into her eyes, and-

"What is going on in here?" shouted Victor Comstock as he tore into the green room. "You're all supposed to be doing 'This Girl's Kinfolk' in five minutes!"

"We're just working on my...well, it was my script," Gertie explained. Everyone in the green room launched into an animated recreation of the story of the American patient and his patient (and rather fed up by now) nurse. Victor stopped them when Betty described Nurse Robertson's lost first love and how she was now falling for a man who might be a notorious con artist.

"Look, the roguish type is all well and fine, but we need someone who can uphold the virtues that this great country stands for, and someone who wants to tear them apart. You are missing your basic story ingredient of hero and villain."

"This is just supposed to be about two people who find each other!" Gertie wailed.

"It's more about eleven people who have found each other," sighed Betty.

"I see this as a drama full of power and vast human emotions, full of action and suspense...." Victor began.

"All I wanted was a romance!" moaned Gertie.

...and heard a knock on the door. Elizabeth and Steven groaned in unison. "I'll open the door one more time, but this is the end! This is a private ward, not Grand Central Station!" Elizabeth unlocked the door and opened it. She let out a shocked gasp and passed out.

Steven struggled into a sitting position as a tall, handsome, slightly balding man dressed in a tattered British Army uniform entered the room. "Hey," the American patient wheezed as the tall fellow picked Elizabeth up and gently placed her on a couch on the other side of the room, "who are you? What did you do to Liz?"

The man ignored Steven and went over to a tray of cold, untouched hospital food and a pitcher of water that sat on the nightstand next to Steven's bed. He picked up the pitcher of water and poured it into the small cup on the tray. "What are you doing?" Steven asked him.

"I'm trying to bring Elizabeth around," the man said. "I've got to tell her..." He noticed Steven then. He swung back over to the bed. "Lieutenant Steven Sherwood, how in the world did you get here?"

"Maybe you should tell me who you are first," snapped Steven impatiently.

The man looked at him in utter shock. "I'm your commanding officer in the British Army, Lieutenant! We were imprisoned in the POW camp across the border in Germany together. You dismantled a code containing references to a foul plot against the British garrison and escaped to get help!"

"What foul plot? This sounds like a dime novel that's been marked down to a nickel!"

"How could you not recall our vital mission? The Nazis intend to..." Elizabeth groaned softly and stirred. The man turned away from Steven and handed the groggy volunteer nurse. He sat down by the couch and handed her the cup of water.

She sat up and took the water without even looking at who offered it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth screamed and threw the water in his face. "Vincent! No, you can't be Vincent Comstock! Captain Vincent Comstock died in a horrible explosion in Berlin."

"Yes, but I'm feeling a lot better now," Vincent calmly told his former sweetheart. Steven watched the two carefully. "Elizabeth, I am in desperate need of your assistance. Lieutenant Sherwood and I are in more trouble now than I was with a British bomb heading straight for me and he was when he escaped the POW camp."

"Vincent, I don't understand any of this," Elizabeth said, confused. "Do you know this man?"

Steven shrugged. "He says that he does, but then again, so do half the people in this hospital."

"It's a very long tale, Elizabeth," Vincent told her, "but thank goodness the three of us have this time alone to discuss our plan of attack."

But they weren't alone. Everyone who had entered the small private ward earlier suddenly filed in, followed by men dressed in Nazi uniforms. Gretchen looked sad. "We have been caught, Frouline Nurse, yah?"

"We're Swiss citizens!" wailed Euga. "Herr Foley and I have nothing to do with any of this!"

"Neither do I!" Steven piped in. "At least, I don't think I do."

A large, bulldog-joweled man headed the Nazi brigade. "Good work boys," he snarled in impeccable English. Vincent moved to the bed and pushed Elizabeth behind him. Jeff, Hilane, and Herr Eldredge were shoved into the ward next. Jeff clung to his former wife, who stared wide-eyed at the Nazis.

Herr Eldridge was merely confused. "Does this mean I won't get my sugar?"

"Sargent Rollie Pruitt, I should have known that they would send you to follow us," Vincent said as calmly as he could. "You only have one principal, and it's based on the all-mighty dollar. Steven and I are both highly respected in the American and British government. We'd not only be very useful to your organization, we would also bring you money after you turn us into your superiors."

"Yes," hissed the ugly Nazi, "and I have every intention of bringing you and the lieutenant back to the camp for additional conditioning. There's a $100,000 reward on both of your Allied heads." He turned his gun on Hilane and Jeff next. "Lieutenant Holstrom will send Miss Breckinridge, Mr. Chanteur, and their two Swiss saviors to the nearest concentration camp. The others will be incarcerated for aiding fugitives and Allies."

"We're never going to make our concert!" complained Euga.

"So you weren't really after us at all?" Hilane asked. "You were after Captain Comstock and Steven Sherwood?"

Holstrom aimed his gun at Hilane and Jeff. "Finding the two of you was my job, Miss Breckinridge. Your Mr. Chanteur's work involved several anti-Nazi schemes that we'd like more details on."

"I'm Vincent's contact," Jeff revealed to the crowd in the ward. "I knew what he was doing when he vanished after that bombing in Berlin." He turned to his ex-wife. "Hilane, that's why I committed myself to Pavletta. There was nothing between us. She knew that Vincent and Steven was trying to decode the message that contained the Nazi plot. She threatened to have both of them put to death if I didn't get her out of Europe and into America to break into the movie business."

"Why didn't you commit her to something more sensible, like homicide?" his ex-spouse spat.

Pruitt snatched Elizabeth from Vincent's grasp and pointed the gun at her. "This is all very amusing and very informative, but I'd suggest that Lieutenant Sherwood and Captain Comstock come with me, or their lovely nurse friend will wind up tending to feverish patients in that big hospital ward in the sky."

"No!" shouted a voice from the back of the green room. "You can't let the villain get away with killing your heroine just like that!" Scott walked into the room, pushed past Mackie and Gertie, and took a chair.

"And what would you suggest Sherman?" asked Victor innocently as the rest of the cast hurried out of the green room and into Studio A.

"No!" said a weak voice from the back of the room. "Take me instead, Pruitt. Leave Elizabeth out of this." Steven had raised himself onto crutches and was hobbling in front of Vincent. "I'm the one you want. I'm supposedly the one who decoded the message that contained the Nazi plot."

"Um, Herr Sherwood, I do not think at this is the right time to play hero, yah," Georg warned. "That bad Nazi is holding a gun on Frauline Nurse Elizabeth!"

"Look, Pruitt, I'm sick as a dog anyway, so if you really feel like plugging someone full of holes, why don't 'cha plug me?" Steven defied him.

"Lieutenant, I agree that Elizabeth should not die. However, I do not think this is the right way to go about rescuing her," Vincent gulped.

"Do you have a better idea?" He asked. No one answered him.

Euga and Herr Foley began to beat a retreat. "We are already late for our concert, so we will leave." They quickly rushed out the door.

"Forget them!" snapped Pruitt. "We have what we were looking for."

"Well, I don't have what I was looking for! Do you know where the sugar is?" Herr Eldridge asked Pruitt. Steven took advantage of the distraction to trip Pruitt with his crutches. Elizabeth and the two men went toppling to the floor. Steven's head hit the back of the wall. Hilane grabbed the tray from the bed stand and smacked Holstrom over the head with it. Jeff knocked him out and Elizabeth picked up his gun and immediately pointed it at the crowd in general. She'd had enough interruptions. She wanted to nurse and romance one ill vagrant, not get involved with Nazi schemes and the on-again, off-again affair between two people who couldn't stand and couldn't live without each other.

"I'M MAD AS HECK AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE!" She screamed. "I'm supposed to be in control here! All Nazis, stage stars, local color, comic relief, and villains get out now before I get really upset!" She raised the pistol and everyone took to the hills. Herr Eldridge shook his fist proudly at the retreating Nazis.

"You'd better watch out! Our Frouline Nurse is a bobcat when she's angry!" He gathered the remains of a cup of sugar that had been knocked on the bedside table when Hilane grabbed the tray. The happy old man waved the cup under Elizabeth's nose. "Thank you for the sugar, Frouline Nurse," he said kindly.

"Yah," added Gretchen as the Swiss freedom fighters and the American stage couple followed them out the door, "you have done us a great service by stopping those bad Nazis."

"You're welcome," Elizabeth told their retreating forms without turning around. She surveyed the damage. Pruitt and Steven were both on the floor groaning. Steven appeared to be unharmed except for the lump on his head that had rendered him unconscious, but Pruitt had a large bullet wound in his shoulder and was plaintively whining for his mummy.

Vincent hurried back in ward with Dr. Douglas Thompson on his heels. The young doctor whistled. "And I thought that I was shocked when I saw Vincent Comstock in the flesh. Nurse Robertson, you have caught one of the most notorious American Nazi sympathizers in the entire world! There are officials from here to China who would love to get their hands on this guy."

"Never mind that! I need medical attention!" wailed Pruitt. "This would could become infected!"

"I'm a nurse. I can give you a quick examination right now," offered Elizabeth. She took one look at his corpulent, repulsive, Nazi uniformed person and sarcastically diagnosed "There's not a germ on this earth that would want to be within ten miles of your blood stream. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Two interns came in and helped Dr. Thompson carry Pruitt out of the room. Vincent followed them, saying something about needing to be in Washington DC with the information that he and Steven had discovered. Elizabeth sighed and dropped the gun on the bed stand. She still loved and admired Vincent, but their relationship was and had always been at the constant mercy of his beliefs and his schedule. A rumble from the wall near the bed reminded Elizabeth that she wasn't alone.

Steven had regained consciousness and was rubbing the back of his head. Elizabeth flew to his side. "Are you all right?" she asked, her voice colored with genuine concern. "You smacked your head pretty hard."

"Nahh, I'm ok, Liz. We Sherwoods are a pretty tough lot. It would take more than a big, ugly Nazi to take down Steven Sherwood."

Elizabeth had never been so happy. Well, not in the last five minutes, anyway. "Steven, you remembered your name! You just said it!"

He nodded and winced. "I can remember everything now, Liz. The British Army recruited me as a cryptologist after they heard about my record with Gretchen and Georg in Spain. I was translating codes for Captain Vincent Comstock when the Nazis raided our studio. We were both caught and locked up in a POW camp. They tried to torture us into confessing what we had found out about their plot, but we wouldn't spill the beans. We escaped the camp, but I fell down, hit my head on a boulder, got lost up here, and completely forgot about our mission."

"What is your mission?" Elizabeth asked.

"The code said that the Nazis were going to invade Switzerland. They couldn't stand the fact that there was one little piece of Europe that ignored them," Steven explained.

"Were? What happened to those plans?"

Steven beamed. "If Vince is as good as he says he is, and I know he is, those plans are on their way to the British Army's top generals now to be analyzed."

Vincent stuck his head in. "Actually, I prefer Vincent." He left. Elizabeth and Steven laughed.

"You're bad news, Steven Sherwood."

"And proud of it." He took her head in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips. "Marry me, Elizabeth. I'll take you back to America. We'll have a house and kids and the whole big American Dream."

"I feel like this is all a dream, but, yes Steven, I'll marry you!" Elizabeth grinned. "I'm not going to wait for Vincent to put me in front of his politics."