John took in a deep breath of the winter air. It had been several years since he had been in this part of the world. He turned the key, causing the old soviet jeep to roar to life. He sped off towards the hospital, leaving the body of the soldier who's clothes he had stolen in the ditch.
Approaching the hospital, he was confronted by a stern faced guard in a heavy winter coat and hat. "Greetings comrade." He said. John handed the guard the papers Mike had made for him, wondering if this would be the time that the guard figured out they were fake. It wasn't.
Entering the room that held his friend, he looked down at him with a frown. Joe had seen better days. "God dammit, you just had to get sloppy." He lowered the pillow down on his face with a note of finality.