part 2
But the Lieutenant hadn't relied on their natural distrust and hatred of him. Just like everything else, they had to train for this. Instead of running the obstacle course or working out on the firing range, they had to practice being questioned, practice giving up information without giving everything away. That wasn't hard either. The Warden didn't let them know anything important. He didn't trust them to keep their mouths shut anyway, so he fed them just enough to get them through the exercise. Sometimes only just enough to get through the next step.
By the time the Norway job rolled around they were ready. All of them. Ready to tell the Krauts they were suckers, forced into doing what the Warden wanted to save their skins. Just pawns in whatever plan he and the Army had cooked up. The Germans weren't soft on criminals, but they were easier on them than on spies and saboteurs. They put them in work camps, used them to clean up and repair the damage the bombers were doing in the cities and on the roads. They'd been in places like that before, all of them. They knew how to get out of places like that. Like Casino said, this was going to be a piece of cake. Especially with Actor leading them. They'd even talked about it after the lights went out in the big room they share at that prison they called a mansion. Planned how they'd get away once they got over there. Yeah! They were ready.
But that had been before the Warden had saved his butt by coming back for him, and then acted like it was nothing. Chief couldn't turn his back on him after that. He couldn't go off owing the guy. He had to at least settle that score, so he'd been glad enough to follow Actor's plan. They could get in, get the guy out and then take off... That was before he'd seen him in the doorway...
When the Colonel started yelling at the guards, screaming out that they were imposters and the shooting started, adrenalin must have poured into the Warden's system because he'd surged away from them, shouting, "Cover me!" as he ran towards the vehicles. Using one of the armored cars in the compound he'd cleared a path for their escape, pushing through the gates so the ambulance could get out, then parking it across the opening to block the Germans as they ran. He'd jumped in the back and they'd taken off, left the place burning from the fuel barrels Chief had set off when he tossed the grenade. Actor and Casino were in the front, both still in their SS uniforms, Casino driving, the rest of them rode in back as they made their way along the road.
Garrison was still running on adrenalin, fear and,,, anger: "Of all the stupid, bone headed plays.......... Do you realize you could've blown the mission, bringing him back in there, and gotten yourselves killed!
"You wouldn't go out on a limb for any of us, would ya, Lieutenant?"
"That... that was different."
The others thought he was joking, conning them, and shared a laugh over it but Chief had watched him, studied his battered face even in the dim, changing light. He caught the slight frown of confusion that told him the Warden was telling the truth. It was different... for him.
He was crazy, just like Casino said. But the blood on him, and his willingness to spill it so they could get away bound Chief to him. This was one he could trust. This was one he could follow.
ggg
So far it had worked just like they planned. He'd taken rifles and ammunition from the stores in the old man's cellar and tools that he thought he might need to get through the wall. They'd made a bundle of clothes for all of them to change to in case they had to show themselves later, and Chief had rolled a German uniform and tied it so he could carried it on his shoulders. He hid the supplies in the wagon under the grain sacks, and after he helped the old man load a box from the house under the floor boards of the wagon he crawled in under the seat, and waited as the man settled in, covering his legs with a blanket that shielded Chief 's head and upper body as the old dog rested back against his legs and covered them from view.
When the old man pulled the wagon to a stop again it was mid morning and they were on the road just below the large house where his friends were being held. If there hadn't been someone there to show him, Chief would have missed the muddy waterway that led up to the walls of the place and the cover that it would provide them on their way back down to the road. He took the supplies from the wagon and found a hiding place for them a little way up the stream from the road, then he slung one of the rifles over his back and shouldered his bundle and watched the old man as he continued on his way. If all went well he'd meet them back here with a wagon full of hay and straw that they could hide in for the trip out to an old woman he knew who had a nephew in the resistance.
When the wagon was out of sight Chief moved carefully up the stream to the wall of the estate. The grate was there, just as the old man had promised, and no one had gone outside the walls to see that it was only held in place by stones leaning against it. He set the tools aside, he didn't need them, all he had to do was lift the stones out of position and the grate fell back into his hands. He peered inside the compound. The shadows were deep in the corner to his right and lengthening, heading this way. That was good, they'd have deep shade to help them as they tried to get back to the grate to get away. He watched the guards as they made their rounds. He saw the door that led to the basement, the place the old man thought would be the easiest way inside. Chief waited until he had the pattern of the guards' movement in his mind, when they were out of sight he made his move, slipping inside and heading for the corner to his right where the shadows were deepest.
Taking the bundle from his shoulders he slipped the tunic on, freezing in place when the guard paced back out onto the edge of the roof overhead. When it was quiet again, when the guards were gone he'd donned the pants and cinched the belt up and stepped out on his way, headed for the basement door like he was doing something he did all the time, like he was just where he was supposed to be. Once he got inside he'd moved through the halls and found the stairs as if he'd been in the place before. It only took him five minutes to find the place where he thought the others were being held. There were other hallways with doors opening onto them, but this was the only one that had a desk with a guard sitting at it outside one of those doors. And the door was the only one with bars fitted to the opening that was cut into it. Before he could decide what to do next he saw the guard shove away from his desk, heard the chair scraping across the stone floor and he slipped down the hall and through a door that opened onto darkness. When he closed it he could hear the guards footsteps fade away as he made his rounds. He waited for a moment but there was no other sound. Opening the door he quietly made his way back to the other hall, to the door with the bars. He could hear the murmur of voices as he approached and then Actor's voice as it carried clearly to him down the hall.
"Casino, we can hardly do the Warden or ourselves any good if we all get shot!"
"Shut up, both of you! The guard's on his way back already." Goniff hissed from the grate at the door. Chief could just see him as he stared through the bars waiting for the soldier to appear. And he took heart from the smile on the pick-pockets face when he caught sight of him. "Blimey! Will you look at that?!"
Casino and Actor glanced up from their argument as the second story man backed away from the door, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. The light streaming in from the hallway was blocked when Chief stepped to the grate and peered in, but it was easy to see only three of them were locked inside.
"Where's the Warden?" He'd hoped he'd find them all together. Take out a guard, open a door, and they'd all just get the hell out. But he didn't really expect to get what he hoped for.
"They've taken him back to the commandant's office for more questioning. How did you get in here?"
"I had help."
"From the group we met at the farmhouse?" He could hear the fear in Actor's voice, he thought it was another trick.
Chief put those fears to rest with a grim answer. "No, not them."
"You have to get out of here, the guard should be back any moment." the con man advised.
"What's his routine?"
"He makes his rounds every hour. It takes him a little more than five minutes."
"Alright. I'll be back." he promised as he made his way back down the hall, passing the guard who was making his way back to his desk. He'd learned to carry the German uniform and weapons like they were part of him. He'd also learned the ice cold stare that cut off all chance of conversation with the other men that he might meet in the hallway, and he knew the basic commands he could expect to get. With all of that Chief still gave a sigh of relief when he reached the door to the storage room he'd found not far down the hall from the place where they were keeping the others. He couldn't see the guard's desk from the vent in the door, but he'd be able to hear the man when got up to leave on his rounds. And this looked like the main hall, he might even catch sight of the Warden when they brought him back to the cell. He leaned against the door, waiting, watching. The automatic was slung over his shoulder, ready to swing down into action if he needed it, but it was the knife that he held ready in his hand.
Before the hour was up and the guard went out on his next patrol the Warden was being hauled back down the hallway and into the cell. Chief hadn't gotten a good look at him, the guards that were manhandling him along were in the way. Garrison was walking, but there was a guard holding onto him on both sides. Chief didn't know if that was because they were just keeping him from getting away, or if they needed to keep him from falling. He heard the door slam shut on the cell around the corner and then voices raised in anger. After a few moments the guard shouted at them, and everything went quiet again. He settled in to wait, hoping the guy kept to his schedule. He checked his watch, fifteen minutes.... By the time those minutes passed he thought he'd lived another year. The sound of the guard pushing his chair back along the floor was the most welcome thing he'd ever heard. As soon as the man's footsteps faded down the hall he was out of his hiding place and headed towards the cell.
ggg
"How is he?" Chief strained to get a look at him through the grate, to see his commander's condition himself, because he knew that if they just ask Garrison how he was doing they'd only get one of his two standard answers. 'Fine', if he could move at all, or 'Get the Hell out of here', if he thought he'd put them at risk if he tried to make it out with them. "He gonna make it out of here on his own?"
Actor shook his head. "I don't think so," and turned his attention back to Garrison as the man reached out to grip his arm.
"There's a cemetery out by the north wall, Actor. You can see it from the commandants' office."
The confidence artist called over his shoulder to their partner outside the door. "Chief, which way did you come in?"
A rare smile lit the younger man's features. "Through the north wall, man, right through the cemetery."
Chief could hear the smile in Actor's voice as he turned back to the Warden. "Do you feel up to playing a dead body?"
"Yeah. I think I could just about manage that."
ggg
In a huddled conference at the door they'd quickly made their plans and Chief moved quietly back to the storeroom to wait for the guard to return to his desk. "Guard!" That was his cue. He opened the door a crack and made sure no one else was in the hall before he stepped through and started for the opening that led back to the cells. "Guard!" He heard the sound of the guard's chair scrapping across the stone floor and his growling challenge of "What is wrong with you!" He waited just outside the opening to their corridor, there was a murmur from down the hall and then Goniff's panic stricken voice,
"Hey! I ain't stayin' in here with no bloody corpse!"
Chief waited a beat and then showed himself just as the guard was turning back towards his desk. He heard the man call out to him and beckon him towards him, and knew he was summoning him to help with the prisoners. Raising his gun to be ready he walked down the hall and watched the man turn the key in the door and step carefully into the cell. As the guard dropped down into a crouch and cautiously reached his hand out towards the Warden Chief dropped the cord over his head and jerked it back, pulling the man hard against his leg until he stopped moving.
"Casino, this one looks about your size."
Chief stepped back and took the guards position at the desk and waited while the body was stripped and Casino donned his uniform. They'd dress the guy in Casino's clothes so when the next mark came there'd be the right number of prisoners in the cell. It didn't take long. Actor was out and used the phone on the guard's desk, calmly asking for a couple of guards to come and help them with a prisoner who'd gotten sick. When the two guys showed up in the hallway, he and Casino were ready, one of them on either side of the door, ready to cover the prisoners when the door opened. Chief tossed the first guy the keys and motioned for him to open the door. As soon as he stepped inside Actor and Goniff were on him, Casino had the other one down in seconds. While Actor and Goniff changed clothes Chief took his seat at the guard's desk and drank the coffee that was sitting there.
"Well, gentlemen we have our costumes, now all we need are the appropriate props."
"Down the hallway to the left and around the corner." The Warden's voice was barely audible across the short distance from the cell to the desk where he sat. "The first aid room's down that hall, there's a sign over the door."
"You've been very observant," Actor stepped to the door, "I'll see if there's a stretcher we can use, if not we can tap a door off its hinges." The con man signaled him to stay where he was. They still needed to have the hallway look normal if anyone happened to pass by. After a few tense moments he was back, carrying a collapsible stretcher and a tarp, and he had a coil of rope hanging off his shoulder. As Chief waited he could hear the rustle of the tarp and murmured voices as they got the Lieutenant settled on the stretcher. When they stepped to the door of the cell he checked his watch. The hands were just swinging up to the hour, time for the guard to make his rounds. They moved down the hallway, Actor and Goniff carrying a body shrouded for burial along on the stretcher while he led them down the main hall. Casino turned and locked the door and then followed along behind.
ggg
They made it out to the back of the property with no problem. 'Must not be all that unusual for one of the prisoners to die on 'em.' He thought. The afternoon shadows stretched across the small burial ground that was tucked against the fence. The sun was bright, that was good, it would make it harder for the guards to see down into the deep shade. They set the stretcher down along the edge of the drainage ditch and Actor and Goniff turned to pick up the shovels that rested in the corner and started to work while he and Casino leaned against the wall. Chief watched the stretcher, he could just make out the slight rise and fall of the tarp that let him know the Warden was still breathing. Ten minutes and there was a shallow grave. Actor and Goniff drove their shovels in the dirt and turned towards them. It was time to make his move. He waited until they'd come up to stand next to Casino, taking a break and having a smoke in the shade. He used them to shield his movements as he dropped into the ditch, worked his way to the grate in the wall, and lifted it aside. Getting the all clear from Actor he moved up alongside the stretcher, lifted the tarp, and helped the Warden slide off into the ditch. They inched their way along the muddy channel and through the wall, moving far enough away that Casino would have room when he made it through. Chief turned and got his first good look at the Lieutenant.
The guy'd sure taken a pounding. He was bruised, bleeding, and his eyes were almost swollen shut. His shirt, what was left of it, was discolored with dirt, sweat, blood, and stained with irregular splashes of brown ..... Along with the welts, bruises and broken wounds on his upper body and arms, were patches of red angry skin and blisters. The Germans must a doused him with their coffee while they questioned and beat him.
Garrison shifted towards him, "Moreau was here, he..."
Chief put an end to his concern with one grim statement. "It's taken care of." And after a moment asked, "How'y doin' Warden? You gonna make it out a here?"
"How far?"
"'Bout quarter mile along this stream, down to the road. All down hill."
Garrison considered it before answering quietly, "I can make that... What about after?"
"Old guy'll be there with his wagon." Chief assured him. He hoped that was true, prayed in his own way that nothing had happened to the old man along the road after he'd dropped him off and gone on his way. "If he idnt' there, he showed me where we can get another cart. I got some clothes bundled up at the other end a this stream. 'Case we have to show ourselves."
He hadn't been given the command to 'Get the hell out of here!' yet, so the Warden must figure he could handle the trip, but Chief needed to know if there was anyway they could make it easier for him. "What's the worst a the damage?"
The swelling on his face didn't allow for much movement, but Chief saw the corner of Garrison's mouth quirk up, and caught a glint in the eye that was still partially open.
The Warden moved his hand across his chest and he winced as he pressed down on his ribs. "I must have a bulls-eye tattooed over here, and I think I could use another eye."
The younger man smiled as he watched Casino make his way through the opening in the wall. "You'll have eight of 'em in just a minute." he promised.
Casino moved up close to them, gave Chief a quick worried frown, and then took a good look at the man lying next to him. "You sure are a magnet for it, aren't ya Lieutenant?"
"Just doing my job, Casino."
"Jeeze! Are you crazy! Nobody takes a beatin' like that for anyone other than family. Wheeler was right! You are a psycho!"
The east coast thief waited for Garrison's wisecracking denial, but he'd withdrawn, gathering his strength for the painful trip to come. He glanced up at Chief, his concern for their commander obvious.
"You're right, man," the younger man said quietly "...but he's no psycho."
Chief watched his face change from frowning need to argue his point, to wide-eyed understanding. They shared a long look before Casino shook his head. "Yeah. That puts a whole new spin on things, doesn't it?"
ggg
Something had disturbed his sleep. The old woman George had brought them to had a nephew in the resistance, and his group had the place secure. Chief still prowled around the house and the grounds surrounding it himself while they were taking care of the Warden. After his tour he had been sure enough to come in and get some rest like the old man urged, but something had shaken him out of his light sleep. He searched the room and found nothing. The others had dropped from exhaustion nearly as soon as they'd arrived. Even Actor had relented, and let the old woman see to Garrison, and was dozing in the corner near the fire, a book on his lap. Chief smiled to himself, somehow the confidence man always seemed to find something to read.
The young man got up and checked the windows and continued his search when he found nothing out of place outside. He stood still and listened, then crossed the room and listened again, outside the door where Garrison was. The sounds were coming from the other side. Small desperate sounds of struggle. He opened the door and stepped inside, carefully, quietly closing it behind him so the others wouldn't be disturbed.
By the time they'd gotten to their refuge Garrison was out on his feet and shaking with cold. The trip down the icy stream had chilled him to the bone, and while Chief had clothes that were bundled and dry waiting for them at the end of that short journey, Actor decided that trying to get the Warden out of his own things would be too painful for him. They'd carefully wrapped him in the blankets George had with him instead, and pulled the loose hay up around him when they'd helped him into the back of the old man's wagon. When they turned him over to the old woman she'd used water warmed on the stove to gently wash the mud off him and soak the fabric of his shirt away from the burns and broken skin where it clung. She'd bandaged the worst of the injuries and then helped him into a soft shirt that had belonged to her dead son, before tucking blankets around him and leaving him to his rest. He'd tossed and turned in his sleep, and the blankets were twisted around him now, restricting his movement. As he fought to escape them they just bound him more securely.
At his touch the Warden lay quiet again. He didn't know where he was, in his sleep he'd forgotten that he wasn't in that place anymore. He was still again, but this stillness was not from the reassuring knowledge that he was safe, it was too quiet. He was frozen like the rabbits Chief used to catch in his traps.
Chief had come into the room silently as always, and he'd come up on Garrison's blind side... His face was so badly swollen he couldn't see at all out of his left eye and very little from his right. He could only make out the shape of someone standing over him.
"Daashinit e? Ha at iish baa nanina?" Chief felt the Warden relax under his touch and at the sound of his voice as he pulled the blanket from beneath his shoulder, freeing his arms. Garrison was the only one the young man had spoken to in his own language. He'd told him about his grandfather once on one of their runs, and he had tried to say the words again. They were strange on his tongue, and he wasn't sure if he was even saying them right, but Garrison had encouraged him to keep trying, trying to remember the words, and keep saying them, even if they might not be just right. He'd even tried to learn some of them himself.
"Atsili? Chief?"
"Haoh Anaai.."
"Where are we?"
"S'OK. The old man brought us to a friend a his. It's safe here."
"Where are the others?"
"Just outside in the other room, sleepin' How y'doin' Warden?"
"Just fine."
As he watched Garrison drift back to sleep Chief finally understood. He was fine, they were safe, and so he was fine. "T'ah naat'aanii. Iishhaash k'ad." The young man pulled the chair that sat in the room back into the corner by the door. He could keep an eye on the Warden from there, see out the window, and even though he knew that only the others were outside, he'd be able to rise up behind any threat that came at the Warden from the door.
ggg
The old man came to him before it was time for them to leave. They had time enough to sit together, and he asked to hear his story. The old eyes looked at him for a moment before he started to speak. Chief settled his back against the wall of the room Garrison slept in and listened
He'd been born at the turning of a new age. He told him about the colors and smells of Paris. He described the fine gowns and fancy dress of the people his parents knew, and told him how sweet the perfume his mother wore when they went out to the theater was, and how it lingered on him long after she leaned down to kiss him before they left. George could still smell it across all the years since he was just a small child. Then he told him what it was like to be taken away from that place and be brought to his grandfather out in the country, and how he'd been afraid at first because it was so quiet there, and so dark that it seemed he might get lost in the stars that shone down at night, stars he'd never seen before because of the lights of the city. He told how he'd gradually come to love the country and how he'd chaffed at being made to go to school when he yearned to be outside roaming the fields with his grandfather, or one of his dogs. He gave him the memory of meeting his wife and made their life together so real in his telling that Chief thought that he might have lived it too, watched the children come and grow to manhood, felt the grief of losing them and the desperate happiness of having a grandson to fill the void left in their hearts by that loss. And when he talked of the shattering despair of losing his grandson, and then the loneliness that swallowed him into darkness after his Cecile had followed the boy out of the world, Chief thought he would drown in the sorrow that filled the old man's voice and heart. But when he tried to tell him that he was sorry he asked him for his story, sorry he'd made him remember... the old man only smiled at him.
"I think it is better to remember and grieve here in the real world now, than fall to dust staring into the fire, lost in the past." George looked up as the door opened. The truck was ready, the boy's friends were coming to take their companion out so they could get away to the coast. They didn't have much more time. He pushed out of the chair, shouldering the rifle he'd hung on the back of the chair again. The old man moved out of the way as they carefully woke the man sleeping in the bed and helped him up, wrapping him in the blankets the old woman gave them to ward off the cold. He followed the dark haired youngster as he went after them, laying a hand on his shoulder as they moved through the house and out into the yard. They stood together and watched as the others helped the injured man into the truck and then climbed in to join him. George turned to him, shoving the weapon around to rest against his back so that he could give the boy a kiss on the cheek and hold him close to his heart for a moment. The young man had given him back his present by shaking him out of the past.
"You can't go back there you know."
"I know. But it is no longer important."
Chief kissed the weathered cheek and turned and climb into the back of the truck. He watched the old man disappear into the dust and distance and wondered what would happen to him now. It hadn't been that long ago that a thought for someone else wouldn't have entered his head. But things change... More and more he found himself thinking about what was going to happen to the people around him. People he met briefly on their missions, and the men he worked closely with now, the men he relied on, and counted as something more than friends.
The end
