by Dale Harsh
But the choice had been theirs: Simple. Leave the team, and return to prison to serve out their sentence, or, recommit to the original agreement and get back to work. Surprisingly, the deal was pitched to each one of them, independently of the others. Still, it was no contest. Each man 're-upped' without a second thought. Well, until Edwards dropped the bomb on them and told them they would be shipped out to Scotland for basic training. Casino had lost it then "What the hell are you guys playin' at now!" he demanded.
"Casino, watch your mouth, man." Chief quickly cautioned, before Edwards could change his mind, and cast a furtive glance at the Army officer. But Edwards disarmed them by laughing.
"Well, which way do you want it, Casino? You're the one who complained about not getting any military training!"
"But I was just tryin' to explain..." Casino sputtered.
"That we 'didn't' do right' by you." Edwards filled in, obligingly.
"Aw, Major, I didn't say..."
"I believe that you said," Actor interrupted with a slight smile playing across his suave features, "the Army had no right to expect you to act like a soldier, if it never bothered to train you to be one."
"That's right, mate. That's what you said." Goniff adding with a grin, "You just weren't as genteel about it!"
But, quietly, from the corner he'd been leaning in, Chief reminded them, "He said us, you know. They're sendin' all of us, not just Casino." And as their faces fell they heard his quiet chuckle.
Edwards enjoyed watching them as the truth sank in. Casino, finally speechless, a crack in Actors ever present calm facade, and a look of very serious consideration on Goniff's normally grinning face. Chief though, Chief's reaction proved to him that Garrison had been right about the growth and change in the young man. Simple, calm acceptance of their orders. And, Edwards thought, he saw something else. Relief. Edwards wondered again, about the kind of past life that would make the young man fear losing his position with this group.
Edwards turned back to Casino. "We've decided you were right, Casino. We had to put this team in the field so fast that you just received rudimentary training. We concentrated on the things you needed to know for that first mission. Since then, your training has been haphazard, at best."
"Are you nuts? The Warden's got that crazy Limey Sergeant running us all the time!" Casino snorted in disgust.
"Between missions, and to wear you out to keep you out of trouble. Not that it ever seems to work!" Edwards shot back, earning appreciative laughter from Actor, at least, he continued, "We're going to rectify that deficiency in your education. You'll be attached to a British group going through their basic training."
"Aw, Jeeze!" Casino started to pace the office like a caged animal.
"You'll learn hand to hand, weapons training, demolitions..."
"We already know that stuff!" Goniff protested from his perch on the edge of Edwards' desk.
"...military etiquette..."
"Etiquette?" Casino stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at the officer.
"...close order drill, language skills, physical conditioning..."
"Forget it! FORGET IT! I changed my mind!"
He stalked towards the door, only to be intercepted by Chief who laughed in his face. "No you don't, Pappy! You gave your word!" And then the damned Indian took Casino by the arm and hauled him back around to face Edwards again. "How long's this gonna take, Major? When do we start?"
They were then herded onto the back of a truck.
"Well, he was damn sure of himself." Casino grumbled, as the truck pulled out.
***
"How'd they take it?" Garrison asked, hoping he'd read them right.
"Just as you expected," Edwards laughed. "But I swear, Craig, Actor's mouth fell open. Just for a moment."
Garrison let the surge of relief wash over him, and smiled. "I wish I'd been there, sir." Looking over at the other man, he cocked his head and asked, "Major, what have you got in mind for me, while they're taking their ease, up in Scotland?"
***
He could feel the rumble of the explosions in the ground under him, as the eastern sky was lit up with the fires that were now burning through the refinery. This installation had been tucked tight into a winding, box canyon, and the allied bombers had tried to reach it unsuccessfully, for weeks. Easily protected by flak guns from low level runs, there had been no way to spot it effectively from the aerial photos, allowing a higher altitude, less dangerous approach, so they'd sent him in to guide them from the ground. This was the second time he'd been over, and the fifth run he'd called in. Each target had that been attempted in the past had not achieved results good enough to knock them out. With him there, adjusting their approach with instructions from the ground, each one had finally hit its mark. So far, he'd managed to get in, and out, undetected. Being on his own was beginning to tell on him, though. Even when he was with the others he rarely slept but at least with someone watching his back, he could relax his guard occasionally and get some rest. Working on his own, he always had to be alert and contantly looking over his shoulder was exhausting. He rested his head on his arms a moment, and then got up with a sigh, pulling the heavy radio pack onto his back, and shrugging the straps into place. "Better get going," he decided. He'd need a couple of days to get in to the next location and scout it out before he made the call that would bring the bombers back in.
***
"How'r you doin', Pappy?" Chief asked, as he dropped down next to Casino, who lay sprawled on his back on the ground.
"Kid, I can't believe I'm gonna say this, " Casino groaned, from his position on the grass, "And I'll deny it, if you ever tell him, but I miss the Sergeant-Major!"
"What?!" Chief laughed.
"Well, at least we had a chance of getting around that little Limey bastard." the other man groused.
"Blimey! I think they're tryin' to kill me!" Goniff gasped as he deposited himself on the ground next to Chief. "How much longer are they gonna keep us here?" He took the canteen from his utility belt, pulled the cap off, and took a long drink, before pouring the rest of the water over his head, and down the back of his neck.
"This is just the first week, man," Chief said, amused. "It'll get easier." Which just drew groans from the other two.
"Hey! Where's Actor?" Casino asked, climbing slowly to his feet.
"Yeah!" Goniff said, throwing himself onto his stomach, he cast an eye up at Casino. "D'you think something's happened to him? Should we go back to look for him?" he asked with concern, but no effort to get up.
Chief stood now, and turned to start back the way they had come, but stopped when he saw a jeep in the distance. As it drew closer he raised a hand and pointed. "Look at that."
"I'll be damned! How in the hell did he manage that?" Casino fumed, as the jeep stopped on the hill near them, and Actor climbed out.
With a quiet word and a smile to the man driving he turned to the others as the jeep pulled away. As he walked towards them, he brushed at this fatigues, tugging them into perfect order. He was still spotless, while the others were covered in dust and soaked in sweat.
"And what were you doin' ridin', while the rest of us poor blokes were bein' run to death?" Goniff asked, from his position on the ground.
"Oh, I merely accepted a ride so that the Lieutenant and I could continue our conversation," Actor replied calmly.
"What could that lousy 'second looey' wanna talk to you about, Your Highness?" Casino demanded with disgust.
"If you must know," he answered with a smile, "We were discussing differing methods of military training."
Casino dropped his chin on his chest and turned to stare, "And now, I suppose, you're some kind of expert on "military training methods"?!" he shot, a tinge of anger seeping into his voice, along with the sarcasm.
"Can I help it, if the man values my opinion?" Actor returned, with a look of wounded innocence on his face. "Casino, it would have been rude of me, to deny the young man the benefit of my wisdom."
"Oh, sure! And you couldn't insult the guy by refusing his ride!" Casino replied, a grin finally breaking over his features. "Jeeze! Actor, how in the hell to you do that?"
"And why can't you teach the rest of us?" Goniff groaned, as he finally climbed to his feet.
"Goniff, " Chief observed, "I don't think you can learn stuff like that. I think it's something you just gotta be born with."
"Indeed." Actor smiled down at them. "Come, we'd best get on. There are still three miles to go."
"Ah, Hell! Like you're gonna run it with us?" Chief laughed, as they started off at a jog.
"Yeah! Actor? You want me to call you a cab?" Casino sneered as he headed out.
"There might be a sizable tip in it for you, Casino." Actor chuckled, as he started off after his companions.
***
Reynolds watched the younger man sort through the photos a second time. "Well? What do you think?"
The other man sighed and stretched as he glanced up, the lines of fatigue etched in his face giving way to grim satisfaction. "These are amazing!"
"Having you in there, to call the strikes from the ground, finally got the results the Air Force was looking for." Reynolds reached out and turned one of the photos, eyeing it critically. "They certainly like the way this has been working out." Sitting down he started gathering the papers and photographs back towards him.
"They have another target for me?" Reynolds heard the fatigue, and saw the slight droop to Garrison's shoulders.
"No, not for you. There are other sites, but they're getting other people ready to go in and spot them."
Craig walked away from the table and stood staring out the window, rubbing the back of his neck, before returning to pick up and study one of the photos again. "They'll need flight experience. They won't want to risk their pilots."
Reynolds raised a hand and waved the others concern away. "There are enough men who've got experience, wash outs from the flight programs. I don't think they'll have to beg for volunteers." Cocking his head, he looked up at the young officer standing over him, "You might have to do a turn as an instructor, or go back in on a tough one."
Garrison nodded, continuing to study the photo a moment before dropping it back on the desk. "But, I do have something else in mind for you, if you're up to it." Reynolds slipped the last of the material into its folder and placed it in the drawer. Garrison looked down at him, waiting. He pulled another file from the drawer and tossed it on the desk. "How'd you like to start training another unit for field work?"
***
Baskins snapped off a crisp salute. "Sir! The men are ready for your inspection, sir!"
Garrison looked up at the spotless young soldier in front of him for a moment before returning the salute, and wondered, again, how this man was going to take to living rough on a mission. "Sergeant, I just wanted them called together. I didn't need to inspect them." Rising from the desk where he'd been filing out reports, he said, with a shake of his head, "Lead on." Baskins executed a perfect 'about face' and marched from the room.
He hadn't been given the opportunity to hand pick this group. He hadn't even been given the opportunity to get to know them. The Army had made their selections based on previous experience and education and just handed him the files. He had a lock smith, a high school language teacher, a mechanic, and a sharpshooter in the unit, along with others with various skills to draw on. He had no doubt they all knew their stuff, but, feeling older than his own years, they were all so damned young! All of them had some experience in battle on the ground in Europe or Africa, but going in, undercover, out of uniform, on their own... that was going to be new to all but him. He found himself wishing, again, for at least one member of the original team to add in to this bunch for balance. Well, the only way to get experience, Reynolds had insisted, was to do the job. At least they'd be starting out with something simple.
They found the group of men gathered on the terrace in front of the mansion. Everyone figured that these new guys would benefit from the Sergeant-Major's instruction, as well as his own, and, after all, the grounds were set up for this kind of training. They had the run of the grounds and the main floor of the mansion, but they had been billeted in the barracks, with the other regular soldiers. Garrison hadn't bothered to think about why he didn't want them quartered in the large room inside the mansion. So, the place was familiar to him, but when the men suddenly came to attention, when they saw him, he caught himself wondering, for a brief moment, just where in the hell he was!
Before they could form ranks and salute him, he called out, "At Ease!" and walked down the steps to their level. "Look, you guys need to loosen up," he said, looking around at them. "You're going to call the hounds of hell down on us, over there, if you snap to every time you see me!" When Baskins accepted this suggestion with another, granted, more casual, salute, and a quick "Yessir!" he just looked down at his feet and said with a sigh. "Come on up to the office, we have a briefing."
***
"Where's the Warden, any way?" Goniff asked. "You'd think he'd a come up and checked on how we were doin'." They were still sitting around the table in the mess tent, slumped over the remains of the evening meal.
"Hell," Casino bristled, and took a long pull on his coffee. "He's probably enjoyin' a nice long leave, at home, while we're up here bustin' our butts!"
"If they sent him home, he deserved it, for puttin' up with all of our crap, man!" Chief said, sticking up for their commander.
"He ain't the only one's had to put up with crap, Indian!" Casino snorted, setting his cup down in disgust. "Doesn't anybody in this place know how to make a decent cup a coffee?"
"Casino, that stuff'll kill you. You ought to learn to drink the tea," Goniff advised. Turning a worried look on the others, he asked, "You don't think he's gone and got himself another group a blokes, do you?"
"It's a possibility," Actor mused. He rested his elbows on the table and steepled his hands before him. "Our group has proven quite successful. I don't doubt the Army is expanding the program. Who better to train another team?"
"Naw!" Casino said, for once observing the looks of dismay on the faces of the others when Actor had not. "If they'd tell him he had to start from scratch with another group a bums, like us, he'd break a leg, goin' AWOL!", adding a laugh to cover his own doubts.
Actor, realizing the distress his comments had caused, straightened up, and smiled. "The Warden is no fool." He moved the chair back and stood up. "You are right, of course. Given the opportunity to choose between amateurs, or ones of our professional caliber, he would, surely, choose the best." He turned and walked towards the door, calling over his shoulder, "Come on. It's only ten minutes to "lights out.""
***
Garrison slammed his hand on the sill and turned away from the window. "Colonel, this is crazy! It's never going to work!"
"Lieutenant Garrison!" Reynolds snapped, "That borders on insubordination!" and after a brief pause he added with a wry smile, "And it sounded just like Casino!"
The younger man dropped his head a bit, "Sorry, sir."
"Look, Craig, the Army went over the records. These guys have the skills. You've got a guy that took locks apart for a living, for crying out loud. And another that can reassemble an engine dead drunk, and blindfolded!"
Garrison sill shook his head, "But not one of them has ever boosted a set of uniforms, run a con, or hotwired a car to steal it. Sir! There's a moral line these guys haven't crossed yet. And it's not that easy to forget all those 'shalt not's' and just start acting like a criminal."
Reynolds gave him an appraising look. "You seemed to manage it, just fine." At the shocked look on the other mans face he smiled, but continued. "The Army wanted another team assembled, Lieutenant, but they decided they needed men with greater discipline so they drew them from the ranks. Look! I know you feel that the background and personality of each of your men is just the thing that makes them successful, but the Army thinks that's exactly what's causing all the trouble. Now these men've got the training, Craig, and that's an end to it!"
"Look, Colonel." Garrison continued, moving to stand directly in front of the desk, he stared Reynolds in the eye, "I agree, they have the technical skills, but that attitude that the Army objects to so strongly, is what has allowed each one of my guys to survive over there! And that came from their experiences in prison. And that can't be taught!"
But, the Army prevailed, and they were sent across the channel.
***
"Well, lads, two weeks more and your time with us will be over. And I must admit, I never thought you'd do as well as you have." The British non-com regarded them as he leaned against the door frame. He hadn't wanted this group of Yank misfits, but they had surprised him.
"Thanks, Sarge. I'd tell ya it's been a pleasure, but I decided to swear off lyin'". Casino said with a grin.
"Mr. Coletti," the Sergeant replied, with a benign look on his face. "If you'd had a pleasurable experience I would have to send you back through the course, because I wouldn't have done my job properly. And, lad, there are those amongst the men that wish you had given up poker, as well as lying." Which drew an amused snort from the other man. "Now," he said, pulling a wad of papers from his pocket, "There'll be a completion ceremony, and you're welcome to have friends or family come, if there are any about. So, I'll just give you your passes and you can get down into town to the phones."
***
The jump was perfect, and they'd made contact with the Resistance man who led them in. There was a list of collaborators that the brass wanted, and it was in a safe, in the office of a certain Colonel, in the town down below. The job was a simple one. Get in, get pictures of the list, and get out again. Simple. Just the kind of job the new team needed to cut their teeth on, the Army had said. Just the kind of job that something could go seriously wrong on, he'd thought. And he hadn't been mistaken.
Their cover was simple. The building where the Colonel had his office had suffered some damage from a fire and they were to join the team of workers going in to do the repairs. The Germans didn't know that their construction crew had a contingent from the underground in it. Papers had been provided that attested to their identity and skills, and, as the crew was a large one, the addition of three more men didn't cause any concern to the Sergeant checking them in to the work site. The day's work required that the water and power be cut to the building, so it was empty of its usual military and clerical personnel. Guards still patrolled the hallways regularly, but their contact had been "on the job" long enough to have their route and schedule noted. Garrison only took two of the new team in with him. Baskins, who would handle the safe, and Masterson, who would take out any security devices that had been left in place. Jeffries would be their 'wheel man', and was waiting, two blocks away, with the car, and another man from the underground. The others were at the safe house with the rest of the small Resistance cell, and would try to create a diversion and help pull them out, if something went seriously wrong , and they got themselves picked up.
***
Chief looked up as Actor approached. "D'you get him?" They'd found the pub filled with their fellow "classmates", and had already had a round of drinks while they waited for a turn on the phones, which had finally come.
"No. He wasn't at the estate." The Italian explained as he folded himself into the booth beside the younger man. "The Sergeant-Major agreed to pass the message along."
"I tell ya", Casino groused, setting down his beer. "He's stateside, on leave."
"I don't believe so, Casino," Actor reasoned. "I'm sure the Sergeant-Major would not have agreed to give him a message, if he had no hope of getting it to him in time." He reached out and took the wine glass, swirling the burgundy liquid around the bowl. He frowned as he remembered the odd tone he had heard in the man's voice on the phone.
"You still think they've got him out with another team," Chief asked, rocking his chair back and balancing it on its back legs, he studied the aristocratic face, "Don't you?"
Actor raised an eyebrow, and took a sip of his wine. "As I said, it is a possibility."
***
They had spent the first hours of the morning tearing out the damage done by the fire while they watched the guards, Garrison, wanted to get their patterns of movement down in his own mind. By mid-morning they were ready to move. It had only taken Baskins moments to get them through the locked door into the Colonel's office. Masterson made a sweep of the room and found nothing to stop them from making their attempt on the safe. Garrison, used to Casino's deft hand and speed at this stage of a job, chafed at the time Baskins was using to physically pull the lock on the safe and get the door open. After what seemed like an hour, to him, the job was done, though, and the safe was open. He pulled the papers out, and rifled through them, finding the list the Army required. He moved over to a table closer to the window and Masterson held the papers out flat while he took the pictures with the small camera he had secreted away in his work vest. When he'd finished they had to wait more interminable minutes, as the lock was reassembled, and replaced. He slipped the papers back into the box and slammed the door closed, wiping the front of the safe down, before they left the office, to head carefully back to the work area. It'd had gone smoothly, "except for the time," he thought, maybe they'd get through this with no trouble, after all.
***
"I'm sorry to tap you for another one so soon, Craig, but this just seems too close a match to pass up." Edwards turned back from the window and observed the other man.
"It's all right, sir," Garrison said with a sigh that cause him to wince and hold is breath a moment. "The doctor's not too crazy about this, but," he continued, still concentrating on the briefing materials and photos they'd been pouring over for the last two hours, "You're right. This is too good an opportunity to let go."
"How long do you figure, to get in and get the job done?" the older man asked as he sat back down next to the bed. Edwards noted the bruises, faded now but still evident across Garrison's face, and saw the signs of exhaustion in the man's posture. He thought, again, about the report the doctor had given him, and wondered, once more, if he was asking too much.
"Depends," Garrison said, meeting his gaze with a glint in his eye, "On the quality of the team you send in."
"And I suppose you have a group in mind?" Edwards ventured with a slight smile. He cocked an eyebrow at the young man. "You that anxious to be back in harness with those trouble makers?"
"Yes, sir!" came the immediate response. "And I'm ready to have experienced people at my back again." The Major looked down at his hands and merely nodded.
"Sir?" Garrison waited for the other man to look up. "Sergeant-Major said their graduation date's set. D'you think you could spring me out of here?"
Edwards smiled, getting to his feet "Well, I can give it a try, Craig. Just remember, doctors out rank all of us! I'll see what I can do." He walked over to the door, grabbed the knob and then turned back, "If they try and hold on to you, I could always get your guys down here to break you out." He'd stressed the words 'your guys' and after a moment had been rewarded with a slight smile from the man in the bed. Maybe this would work out alright after all, he thought, as he stepped through the door into the hallway.
***
It was such a simple thing. Masterson had dropped his tool belt as he took it off, and the guard had slipped on the nails that had spilled onto the sidewalk. When the angry solider approached him, the young man, nerves already raw from a day spent working with one eye on the guards patrolling the worksite, had panicked, and turned to run. He hadn't gotten far. The guard issued one warning to "Halt!" and then brought his rife up and fired. Before Garrison could reach out and stop him, Baskins had moved, with threatening intent, on the solider and drawn attention back on them.
Garrison slid the small camera out of it's hiding place in his work vest, and tossed it away from him into the bushes. He looked up at a car moving slowly passed on the street. As he made eye contact with Jeffries he jerked his head towards the corner and the road out of town, ordering the man away. He waded towards Baskins and the guard, through the crowd of men. When he got close he laid hands on the biggest fellow he could find, jerked him around, and landed a punch, hoping to cause a diversion by starting a riot. As he ducked the fist that came flying at his head, and turned to strike out at the man to his left, he heard the shrill whistle and shout from the guard on the street, and then the tramp of boots as reinforcements arrived, surrounding them. Instead of using the confusion to melt away into the crowds they were caught.
They'd been searched, and then taken to the Colonel's office. No bonds had been placed on them, there were enough armed guards to insure their co-operation. It was dark outside, the building quiet. The Colonel had kept them standing in front of his desk for five hours now, while he went about his duties. A man behind each of them, out of sight, had a rifle trained on the middle of their backs. They could feel it. The strain was getting to Baskins. Garrison kept his eyes locked on a map, on the wall, over the Colonel's head, and worked to keep his emotions from showing on his face. He could feel the tension and fear building in the kid standing to his left.
With a final flourish, the German officer signed the document he had been working on, and set it aside. Carefully placing the pen back in its holder on his desk, he moved his chair back, and stood up. He stretched, casually, and then moved around the desk to sit on its edge, facing his two captives. "Now," he asked, pleasantly, "Who will tell me what I wish to know?" Garrison continued to stare straight ahead, and prayed Baskins was doing the same.
"Come, gentlemen!" the Colonel continued, "You know I will get what I want from you," he paused for effect, "In the end." The man smiled reasonably as he drew his side arm and rested it in his lap. "Why put yourselves through what will come?"
Garrison saw Baskins, from the corner of his eye, move and turn towards him, slightly.
The Colonels smile broadened. "Ah! Very good!" And he raised the pistol he had in his hand, and fired. Baskins was dead before he hit the floor.
Garrison made a lunge for the man and was clubbed to the ground by the guard standing behind him. "Take him away." the Colonel instructed with a wave of his hand. He smiled into Garrison's face when the guards had hauled him to his feet. "I will be with you, shortly. " he promised.
***
"All I'm sayin' is we busted our butts up there, and I just think the guy could'a made the effort to come up when we finished. That's all!" Casino growled.
"You're right, mate! Been nice to have somebody watchin' us march around out there, in the rain, like all them other blokes," Goniff groused. "And then, not even to be here when we got back! That's just... just..." searching for the right word, "Unfeelin', that's what that is!"
Chief spoke up from his place by the fire. "Goniff, the weather was lousy, a lot of people probably didn't make it."
"Yeah! Well, that don't explain why he ain't here... Does it?" Goniff sniffed, unwilling to see reason, he slouched further down on the sofa.
"I"ll tell ya what explains that, ya dope! He's probably snugged up in London, with that dame, and forgot all about us! Typical!"
Actor spoke up, from his favorite chair, "Casino," he observed, "You are carrying on like a petulant child."
"What'a ya mean by that?" Casino turned on him, irritated by the man's superior tone.
"He said, you're talkin' like a spoiled brat." Chief translated, obligingly.
Casino raised his fist in Actors direction. "Why! I ought a..."
"You ought to.... What, Casino?" Actor asked mildly, closing the book he had in his hands, and laying it aside on the table that stood next to his chair.
"Watch out, Casino!" Goniff said, with a laugh. "Actor got awful good at that hand-to-hand stuff."
"Aw, I could still take him out", Casino snorted.
"Oh, I dunno, Pappy. The last time they paired you two up, seems to me, you spent a lot a' time on your backside," Chief observed.
After a moments sputtering denial, even Casino had joined in the laughter.
***
Garrison had just gotten back from his final briefing with Colonel Reynolds, and stood outside the library door, with his head bowed, listening for a moment. "Well", he thought, "That's an improvement." Three months ago, that kind of conversation would have escalated into a fight, that would have taken him, and a couple of the guards to break up, and left him with a pile of reports to fill in, explaining away the broken furniture. He shook his head as he turned the knob and shoved the door open, and wondered how long it would last.
"Gentlemen!" He smiled as he addressed them. The laughter died as they all turned and looked in his direction. "Glad to have you back." He wondered at their silence, and continued. "Would you come down to my office, please? I have something to go over with you." He frowned, slightly, waiting, and when no one moved, added, firmly, "Now! Gentlemen!" Turning, he limped down the hall towards his office. Behind him he could hear a magazine slam down on the floor, and Casino exclaim, "Damn!"
"Lasted a little longer than I thought it would." he mumbled to himself.
***
They'd just stared at him, as he explained the mission, and told them how soon they'd need to be at the airfield. No grousing, no complaining, not even from Casino. Just dead quiet, and stone faced looks. Then they'd filed out by him, to go upstairs and gather their gear together.
Craig knew that they'd been upset that he hadn't been in contact with them during their training. And, he imagined, there were some hurt feelings that he wasn't there to see them finish up with their group. Even if they never admitted it, he knew that it was a matter of pride for them to have completed that course. And he'd wanted to be there. Things just hadn't worked out. The doctors insisted on a longer stay in the hospital, his preparation for the mission had been intense, and time consuming, and then the weather had turned bad. The flight he had depended on, to get him up there, had been canceled.
He'd never tell them that, not as long as they'd closed rank against him. He reminded himself that it was a natural thing for men to think of the guy in charge as 'one of them'. But it felt colder, and more ominous to him, and left an empty spot in the pit of his stomach. He shook his head and hoped that the punishment, and then their time away in 'basic', hadn't broken the bond of trust that had been gradually building between him and his men. No, he thought, they were laughing and joking together when he'd walked in on them. He heaved a sigh and stared into the box. He was definitely the odd man out. Too bad. He'd gotten kind of used to being, almost, 'one of us.' He was going to miss that, he thought, slamming the door to the safe and giving the dial a spin.