Before Mitchell could move, Mandy grabbed his wrist. "Scott, this is it. You know?" She was shaking, and the tears came quickly. "He was good for a while, but now nothing's working. I have two kids. It's just too hard. I don't know if there's anything we can do. Like I told you, when you guys went to the Philippines, he never came home."

"I know."

She released him, then shuffled off into the kitchen, wiping her eyes.

Mitchell started tentatively into their home office and found Rutang in his chair, checkbook out and paying some bills. "Yo, Tang. What's going on?"

"Hey, Scott." Rutang barely looked up.

"Why didn't you come last night?"

"I don't know."

"You've been sick a lot."

"Yeah."

"I'm worried about you, buddy."

Rutang shrugged. "I'm up and down, Scott. I can't do the medication anymore. Mandy's already talking to a lawyer."

"You can't let her go."

"I don't blame her. I'm just another screwed-up soldier, a freaking medic who can't save himself."

"So you've just given up? Going to sit here and feel sorry for yourself?"

"Scott, what do you want? You pissed off because I didn't come to your little party? Hey, man, it ain't all missions and glory for some people, you know? I don't sleep. I still don't sleep! What part of that do you not understand!"

Mandy appeared in the doorway. "If you're going to start screaming, then get out. Just get out." She stormed off.

"Get up," Mitchell ordered. "We're going outside."

Rutang threw up his hands and rose.

Mitchell led him out onto the driveway, and they leaned against Mitchell's Hummer, basking in the warm morning light. "It's going to be a great day."

Rutang laughed bitterly.

"What happened to us wasn't our fault, right?" asked Mitchell.

"R ight."

"But you still feel guilty about it."

"How do you not? I can't tell you how many people have looked me straight in the eye and said, 'Get over it. Get a life, you loser.' But they weren't there. They have no idea. No idea!"

Mitchell nodded. "I used to feel like they died for nothing. I used to think that there wasn't any justice in it, and the guy I wanted to blame just walked away."

"Captain Fang," Rutang said through gritted teeth.

Mitchell crossed around to the passenger's side, opened the door, and lifted the sword cane from the seat. He brought it back to Rutang, whose eyes widened in shock and perhaps even a tinge of horror.

Rutang swallowed. "Where did you get that?"

Mitchell unsheathed the sword, tugged up his shirt, and showed Rutang his scar alongside the blade tip to confirm the match. "It's his, see?"

"Scott . . ." Rutang's lip quivered.

Mitchell returned the sword to its sheath and handed it to his friend. "I want you to hang on to this. It's ours now. That bastard can't hurt us anymore. But listen to me. Revenge doesn't help. It's having the courage to get past what happened, man. That's what we're doing now. We're making a pact. We're blood brothers. We all need you. All right?"

Rutang took the sword cane in trembling hands. He turned away and wiped a tear from his eye. "Scott, I don't know why I've been this way."

"But not anymore. We own the sword. We own him. We own the situation. Okay, we can't change what happened. But we can change what'll happen to us."

"You're right."

Mitchell rested a palm on Rutang's shoulder and spoke more softly. "Tang, we can sleep now. We're home. Mission complete."

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