Wings полностью

“I hope not.” She laughed. She was in much better spirits. And after a brief chat, she went to bed early. She had no idea what Desmond was doing in Honolulu. He never even came to see her. She supposed he was wining and dining the press, lining up interviews for her when she felt better. But he was in for a shock. She was going to do one final press conference for him, to tell them all what they wanted to know. And then she was going home and folding up the road show. It had cost too much. Billy, and almost her own life. She didn't know what she wanted to do now. But whatever it was, it was going to be on a more human scale than what Desmond had pushed her to in the last year. She had made a lot of money, but she had lost a dear friend, and almost her own life. This time the risks had come at too high a price. And she needed time to recover.

Lieutenant Clarke came in at seven o'clock the next morning, and woke her up when she pulled back the curtains and raised the shades. It was a beautiful day, and Cassie was anxious to get up and walk around. She even wanted to shower and dress, but Lieutenant Clarke didn't want her to overdo it.

She had breakfast at seven-fifteen, poached eggs and three strips of bacon. It was a far cry from their island diet of bananas and berries. She never wanted to see either one again, for as long as she lived. And as she finished her breakfast, she glanced over the morning paper.

She saw quickly that Desmond had been at it again. He had granted an interview to the Honolulu Star Bulletin and told them all about her condition. He didn't say too much however about what had happened to her on the little island; she suspected that he didn't want to steal any thunder from a major press conference with her. He thought of everything. Except her well-being. It was all business and publicity, airplanes and profit. Nick couldn't have been more accurate in his perceptions and predictions.

She was still reading the paper when she heard the first plane overhead. She thought it was an exercise by the Navy pilots. The hospital was fairly close to the airfield. But then as she listened, she heard an explosion in the distance. And then more of them. Curious, she got up and walked to the window. And then she saw them, wave after wave of bombers. They were being attacked, she realized instantly, with astonishment. It was seven fifty-five on December 7.

The sky was black with planes and they seemed to drone on endlessly, as they flew over the harbor, and systematically bombed every ship they saw beneath them. They strafed the airport simultaneously, and destroyed whatever they found there.

Lieutenant Clarke came running in, and Cassie explained to her quickly what she was seeing. Without thinking, she ran to the closet, and found the clothes that Desmond had brought her. There wasn't much. But there was a skirt and a blouse and a pair of shoes, and she hurriedly took off her robe and nightgown and got dressed for the first time since she'd been there.

In the hospital, people were crowding into the hallways, and dashing around aimlessly. Nurses and orderlies were trying to keep patients calm, and almost instinctively Cassie joined them. They were under attack for an hour, and by then the Arizona was in flames, along with a number of smaller ships, and large parts of the harbor. Reports were coming in rapidly, many of them inaccurate. And the radio was explaining that they had been bombed by the Japanese, and it was only moments later when ambulances began bringing in the wounded. There were terrifying bums, and men covered in oil, others with head injuries, some with machine gun wounds, and many with traumatic shock. Nurses were running everywhere, and patients like Cassie were giving up their beds for the men who were being brought in from the harbor.

Cassie worked alongside Lieutenant Clarke tearing bandages, and clean pieces of doth. She helped to hold wounded men in her arms, lifting them onto beds. She did anything she could to help, but before they could deal with half of the wounded men, the Japanese attacked again. And this time they got the Nevada.

Suddenly there were thousands of men, injured and half dead, bleeding from everywhere, streaming into the hospital, or taken to the hospital ship Solace.

Rebecca Clarice only looked up at her once with concern and admiration as Cassie worked tirelessly, helping the wounded. She was quite a girl. No wonder the country loved her.

“Are you all right?” the nurse asked her briskly, after Cassie had brought a particularly nasty bum case into a treatment room. The man was screaming and there was flesh hanging everywhere, and even some left on Cassie.

“I'm fine,” she said coolly. She remembered her brother and pulling him from the burning plane. She still had a scar on her arm from where the flames on his body had burned her. “Just tell me what to do.”