by Arnie
"Knock it off, Casino!" Garrison ordered sharply.
"Yeah, knock it off, Casino," the boy echoed, enjoying the angry look that flashed in Casino's dark eyes.
"'Ere, what we gonna do with 'im?" Goniff asked.
"I have no idea," Garrison murmured.
~'~
The instructions were simple enough: just go into Pithiviers in France, meet a contact and pick up some information. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just like any mission that could go wrong in a dozen different ways. But none of them had planned for this.
How do you explain an English kid wandering the streets of Pithiviers picking pockets?
He'd tried to pick Goniff's, but Goniff, being a professional, had felt the light touch and swung around. He'd grabbed the kid's arm and said a few words in English. With their cover blown, Garrison had had no choice but to take the kid with them - from the looks of him, no one would miss him, at least not soon. His dirty blond hair was matched by his dirty face and filthy clothes. If he'd spent a month sleeping in ditches he couldn't have looked any worse.
Once they were hidden in a deserted bombed-out building that Garrison had noticed on their way through the town, the boy had talked in English to them. Actually, he'd mocked them in English, derided them for putting their lives at risk. He'd recognised them for what they were...or what they had been. Cons, always looking out for number one.
And he was headed along the same dark, lonely path.
They'd tried questioning him. Where were his parents? Who was responsible for him? How long had he been in Pithiviers? And, the big question, what was an English child doing in an occupied country?
He'd lied - outrageous lies that had no chance of being believed. He didn't care what they thought, what they said or what they did with him.
Finally, Garrison snapped and searched him. The amount he found was pitifully small. A few coins, barely enough to buy food for a day, and a photograph. That brought forth the only real emotion they'd seen from him so far, except for his disdain. He made a panicked grab for the photograph, but Garrison stepped back, Casino grabbed the kid's shoulder, and the skinny lad didn't have the strength or the weight to fight Casino.
"Who are they?" Garrison asked, his eyes on the smiling couple and young blond boy captured forever on a small scrap of paper.
"No one," came the sullen answer.
Goniff spoke up. "'Ey, er, Warden. There's writin' on the back o' there."
Garrison turned it over. "At Torquay with Billy. 1936." He looked at the scruffy lad. "Billy? Is that you?"
Billy stared at the floor.
"1936. You were...what...five? Six?"
Nothing.
Suddenly the normally quiet member of the group spoke, surprising them all. "How long you been alone?" Chief asked, quietly.
Billy shifted in his chair slightly but still said nothing.
"Did they leave you?" Chief persisted despite the look of hatred flashed at him from the kid's bright blue eyes. "Were they killed? They were killed, weren't they? They were taken from you." There was an odd note of sympathy in Chief's voice. Garrison had no doubt that Chief recognised himself in the boy but Billy, not being willing to give that much information to his captors, stayed silent. Chief shrugged. "Have it your own way."
"Is he right?" Garrison demanded, He threw a glance at the now silent Indian who'd gone back to keeping watch through the window, then turned his attention back to the defiant young boy in front of him. "Were they killed in an air raid? Were they English?" He paused to wait for an answer, then continued. "Were they Jewish?"
"No," he snorted. Obviously Garrison was far off the mark there.
"Then what? Are they alive?" Garrison leaned forward resting his hands on the arms of the boy's chair. Billy squirmed back in his seat, unwilling to suffer the lieutenant's invasion of his personal space, his eyes downcast as he refused to acknowledge the question. Garrison grabbed his chin impatiently and forced the lad to look at him. "Are they alive?" he asked again, his voice softer.
The eyes were shielded again, but Billy finally shook his head. Garrison let go of him and stepped back slightly, frowning as he regarded the orphan.
"Lieutenant." Actor glanced at his watch in a pointed manner. They had to go if they were to meet their contact.
Garrison nodded as he dropped the photograph back into Billy's eager hands. "Chief and I will go and meet...someone; you three stay here. Actor."
Actor followed Garrison through the doorway.
"If anything happens, our escape route is arranged through Dieppe. There's a fishing boat there, the 'Little Mermaid'. The password's 'Copenhagen', the counter word, 'Andersen'. They'll take you to rendezvous with the sub. Get yourself and the others back to England - him too. Chief and I will get out another way."
Actor nodded.
"We should be back in an hour. Don't wait for more than two. Chief!"
Uneasily, Actor watched as Garrison made his way down the stairs, Chief behind him. He would wait for two hours. If Garrison didn't return, well, he was a conman, wasn't he? He'd find a way to rescue them from whatever this little improvisation had landed them in.
~'~
"How did you know?"
"Warden?" Chief wasn't surprised at the question, he was just playing for time.
"How did you know he was alone, that his parents were dead?" Garrison recognised Chief's ploy for what it was but wasn't in the mood to play along.
Chief shrugged. "I guessed."
Garrison grabbed Chief's arm and swung the younger man around to face him. "How did you know?" he insisted.
Those dark eyes slid away from the officer's intent stare. "Warden, we're gonna be late...."
"We have time for this." Garrison disliked confronting the Indian: he normally respected Chief's reticence - but if Chief had a handle on the boy Garrison needed to know what it was, and how to use it.
Chief glanced around. What wouldn't he give for a German patrol to come along? But, typically when such things are wished for, the French street was quiet. He fidgeted. He knew that Garrison wouldn't give up, he'd seen how determined the American officer could be. It looked like this time he'd have to explain himself, but how? He cleared his throat nervously.
"You were left alone?" The question was quiet and Chief was grateful for that. It had been almost ten years but it still had the power to hurt him. "What happened?"
"My parents...." Chief's voice trailed off.
"They split up?"
"No." Chief was surprised at the thought of it. His parents? Split up? There'd been no one else in the world they'd ever look at. "No. They never split up. They wouldn't."
"Chief, your file isn't exactly complete. There's gaps...barely any family history...."
"That's because...." Chief sighed. He hated having to explain things, especially things like this.
"Because?"
"They were killed in a car accident. A drunk driver. He didn't stop at a red light and...he was drunk." Chief stopped himself from revealing more, falling back on repeating why they'd died, instead of admitting just how much it had destroyed him.
"How old were you?"
"Twelve."
"Chief." Garrison's voice was insistent.
Chief sighed. He guessed there was no way out of this one. He continued, his voice slow, hesitant. "It was a mixed race marriage. Their friends had always accepted it. Never made an issue of it. It didn't matter...to anyone."
Garrison wasn't stupid; he could read between the lines. At that point, it hadn't mattered to Chief that his parents were different - that he was different. "What happened afterwards?"
"I was sent to live with my Grandfather on the Reservation." He sighed, half angrily, then straightened his jacket, as though that would straighten out his feelings too. "I didn't know how to live like an Indian...I didn't know how to be his grandson. I grew up in a white neighbourhood - I was accepted. It didn't matter that my mother was Indian and my father was white. It just was. Afterwards, everything changed... Suddenly, I was a white kid on the Reservation and I didn't know how to fit in. I hated it. I hated my Grandfather."
"Because he was Indian?"
"Partly." Chief had never explained this to anyone. Once he'd got into trouble he'd been labelled as just another Indian troublemaker - and who listens to them? "Look, that kid. He's alone. He found out that...that no one cares. People don't understand him and people don't wanna understand him. He hates us. He hates everyone. He wants to hurt the world like he's been hurt." Now that Chief wasn't talking about himself, he could explain more, talk more. At least by talking about Billy he could keep up the pretence that these had never been his feelings, but someone else's.
"Can we help him?" Garrison asked, although both he and Chief knew the question was 'could someone have helped you?'
"I dunno." Chief looked Garrison in the eye. "He's not gonna make it easy on you, Warden."
Garrison smiled. "Then it's a good thing I've had some practice. C'mon."
~'~
"So, Billy, where you been livin'?" Goniff settled himself on the edge of the dusty table and regarded the boy with a friendly eye.
"Why, you looking for a place to stay?" Billy asked, his look and voice totally lacking in anything resembling friendship.
"Nah, I was just wonderin'. Yer must 'ave been 'ere a while, yer see. I wondered 'ow come you'd managed to avoid the German patrols."
The boy shrugged.
"You been pickin' pockets long?" Goniff persisted.
"What is this, twenty questions?" Billy demanded. What were they going to do, talk him to death?
"Just somethin' to pass the time." Goniff shrugged as he moved over to stand by Casino.
"Give it up," Casino advised. "I've seen his type before. They think they know everything, but they don't. Trouble is, it's usually too late by the time they figure that out."
Billy watched them, he looked dejected but he wasn't. He didn't know who these jokers were, but he could outsmart them. All he needed was for the big loud one and the blond English one to turn their backs for a second. The tall dark one was looking out of the window, much like that other dark one had been. Billy shifted in his seat slightly. Somehow, that dark one had known too much, seen too much in Billy's eyes and he didn't plan on sticking around for any of them to figure out anything more about him. He didn't need them and he didn't need their help.
Actor smoked a cigarette as he kept watch for the others. It was obvious that the boy had been hurt, but was Garrison wise to insist on keeping hold of him? How far would the boy's dislike of them drive him - would he attempt to give them up to the Germans? Actor shook his head slightly, he couldn't believe that. Any attempt to give them up would lead to too much attention being focussed on Billy himself, and he didn't think the boy wanted anyone's attention.
Billy waited. Sooner or later, he'd have an opportunity, but Casino, who had seven brothers and sisters (and there was nothing about a kid's subterfuges he didn't know), was keeping a close eye on him. It wasn't until Actor spotted Garrison and Chief casually strolling along the street on their way back, that Casino turned his head and Billy got his chance.
He was quick, fast on his feet, and he had no doubt that he could outrun the three of them. He was at the door in a heartbeat and almost at the top of the stairs when Casino's hand on his collar jerked him to a stop. He wriggled furiously, hoping the shirt would tear but Casino threw an arm around him and hauled him back into the room before the worn material could give way.
"Get off me!" He kicked and struggled but didn't get free until he was unceremoniously dumped back in his chair, Casino's hand on his chest pinning him in place.
"Now you listen to me," Casino started.
Billy's defiance was back in full flood. "Knock it off, Casino," he retorted, a sneer on his face and in his voice.
"Why, you little punk! I oughta slug you one right here and now!" Casino's eyes were blazing with his anger.
"Well, go ahead - it'd probably make you feel better!"
"Casino!" Actor was alarmed. If the American did hit him, Billy would be seeing stars for at least a month.
Casino straightened up, his anger dying down. "What, and prove what a big bad wolf I am?" he asked Billy, then turned away.
Actor and Goniff sighed with relief, then looked at each other. They'd never seen Casino hit a kid, knew that he never would voluntarily, but Billy certainly knew how to push the hot-tempered safecracker's buttons.
Garrison heard Billy's shout and ran, with Chief one step behind him. God help them if any Germans or collaborators had heard. He burst into the room and found himself greeted by three drawn guns.
Casino shoved his gun into its holster with a look of thunder on his face. "Ya coulda knocked!"
"I'll keep that in mind." Garrison looked around. "We'll have to move. We can't take the risk of the Germans having heard him."
"Did you meet our contact?" Actor asked, delicately avoiding using any names.
Garrison nodded with one quick, tense movement, but offered nothing more. Actor frowned, obviously things had not quite gone to plan.
"There's plenty o' bombed out buildin's around here," Chief offered. "We could hide out in any one o' them."
"No. We'll be better off leaving the area. We don't need to stay here; we can hide out just outside the town."
Actor's frown deepened. Why leave the small town if there was something more they needed to do?
"Let's go. Billy." Garrison leaned down so he could stare directly into the boy's face. "You try anything and I'll have Casino knock you out so fast you won't know what hit you. Got it?"
Billy scowled up at the American officer looming over him. "I got it."
"Good. Casino."
"Yeah, great." The safecracker stepped forward and grabbed Billy's arm, pulling him to his feet. "Let's go."
"I can walk!" Billy tried to pull his arm free but Casino wasn't letting go.
"Good, I'd hate to have to carry ya. Now c'mon."
~'~
As they made their way to the edge of the town, Garrison and Goniff made a slight detour. Taking Billy's money, Garrison entered a small bakery and bought some bread while Goniff used his natural skills and didn't buy anything, although his pockets were bulging by the time they caught up with the others. It had started to rain while Goniff was helping himself to various meat pies, and the thin drizzle looked as though it was soon going to turn into a heavy downpour.
As they left the town unchallenged, Garrison glanced around. The nearby woods offered shelter, of a kind, but the trees weren't going to keep them dry for much longer. The American officer looked at the charge he'd taken upon himself. Billy looked cold but, short of stuffing him inside a bush, there was no way to keep him from getting rained on. He didn't know what kind of a life Billy had led recently, though he could guess, and taking him back to England with influenza didn't appeal in the slightest.
Chief had also noticed that Billy looked cold and was getting colder. Without a comment he stripped off his jacket and offered it across. Billy looked at it like the Indian had offered him a live python to hold.
"I don't need your jacket." He looked around at the gang of men who were, to all intents and purposes, his kidnappers. "I don't need anything from you lot. If it wasn't for you I'd be dry right now instead of standing in this wood getting wet!"
"You cold?" Casino looked down with a look of concern on his face. He might not like the kid but he wouldn't see him go without.
Billy flushed a bright pink. For a second Goniff felt regretful. He thought that if Billy's face was actually as hot as that colour indicated, they'd all be warm right now.
"I'm fine."
"'E sounds just like Chiefy!" Goniff said, a smile brightening his face.
Both Billy and Chief scowled while the rest of the men grinned.
"Hey, he looks like him too," Casino snickered.
"All right, knock it off." The familiar command came from Garrison. "Chief, any chance of finding some kind of shelter?"
"I'll go look." Chief handed his jacket to Casino and disappeared into the trees.
Casino looked at the kid, a considering look in his eye. "You gonna put this on or do we have to fight about it?"
"I don't need a jacket!" Billy retorted, his thin hands shoved as deep into his pockets as they would go. He might feel as though his blood was freezing in his veins, but he'd die sooner than admit it.
"Yeah, right." Casino wrapped the jacket around the kid without bothering to try to get him to put his arms into the sleeves, then buttoned it up at the front. Billy started to protest, but a quick "Can it!" from Casino silenced him for the present, and he contented himself with scowling heavily.
"Maybe he can learn some sense after all!" Casino announced, a smirk on his face.
The jacket might have been buttoned but the puny kid had room to move in there, and one quick jerk of his elbow into Casino's ribs proved it.
Casino's smirk disappeared. "There's gratitude for ya!"
~'~
The owner of the jacket, meanwhile, was making his way through the wood, his sharp eyes searching for anything that would provide shelter. He liked the kid, he really did, and he recognised the self-defensive attitude Billy had adopted. "I don't need no one, 'cause no one needs me."
Chief shook his head, partly in denial, partly to shift some of the rain. He'd needed, he'd wanted...desperately, but had never been able to reach out and say so. Acceptance, trust, love...he'd had them once and seen them all snatched away by the actions of a drunk driver. He'd had them a second time and seen them driven away by his fear...his fear that no one who knew him could really, truly accept him and love him.
Even now. He'd trust these men with his life, but not his feelings...not his soul. He'd never been able to trust anyone with them, not even Christine. His face hardened slightly. No matter what it cost him, he was going to make sure that Billy was all right. And the first step towards accomplishing that was finding some kind of shelter.
~'~
Goniff's face brightened again when he saw Chief return. "Good ol' Chiefy," he thought, "'e'll never let us down." And he hadn't.
It wasn't perfect, but the rocky outcrop was enough to keep them dry. By common consent, Billy was shoved to the back where it was driest, warmest and safest. He found himself huddled between Casino and Goniff, the close contact gradually warming him. Chief, who was by far the coldest of them all, was also beginning to warm up a little, as Garrison had thrown his own jacket over the younger man's shoulders. The rain hadn't soaked all the way through it, and it was just enough to dispel the cold shivers the Indian had begun to feel.
With a grin, Goniff handed out the contents of his pockets. It might not be perfect, but they were dry and had something to eat. They'd survived far worse days. Billy accepted the food offered to him with a gruff "Thanks." He was used to going without but had learnt to take food while it was there. Who knew when he'd get more?
The downpour had worsened to the extent that Garrison could barely see two feet in front of him. Knowing that no German soldier would bother wandering through the woods in this weather, he allowed his guard to relax a little and sat back, accepting Actor's cigarette with a brief word of thanks, in an absent minded way.
"Lieutenant?"
Garrison started slightly, his attention snapping back to the present as he realised he was still holding the unlit cigarette. He knew that Actor was waiting for some kind of explanation - the conman seemed to take his duties as unofficial second in command very seriously at times. He murmured, "Later," indicating with a jerk of his head that he was not prepared to talk while little pitchers with big ears were awake enough, or close enough, to listen in.
After a while, the warmth began to have an effect on Billy and he felt himself growing sleepy. He straightened up with a jerk, earning a frown from Casino. Space wasn't exactly plentiful and the enforced stillness, the large meal he'd scoffed and the peacefulness surrounding him were having a soothing effect upon the boy. He hadn't allowed himself to relax since the day his parents died. Each day had become a struggle to survive, and a struggle to avoid attracting enough attention to make the inhabitants of the town wonder who exactly he was and where he came from. Fortunately for him, he spoke French fluently enough to appear to be a native.
His head drooped slightly and he straightened again, fidgeting in an effort to wake himself up. He stared out from between the sea of shoulders. The rain wasn't about to end any time soon, he could tell that much. He sighed and fidgeted again.
"Would you stop that?" Casino didn't know what was up with the kid, but he was acting as if he had ants in his pants. "You're drivin' me crazy!"
Billy sighed again and sat still. He was too tired to think of any smart-alec reply, which didn't seem to get him anywhere with this lot anyway. Normally, he'd receive a slap across his ears for his impudence, usually accompanied by being thrown out of whichever place he'd wandered into. He guessed that his usual tactics would have to be abandoned for the moment. He sighed again, not even realising it as his head nodded lower and lower until he was asleep.
"See, 'e was just tired," Goniff murmured as he put his arm across Billy's shoulders and settled him into a more comfortable position. The boy leaned his head on the Cockney's shoulder and snored slightly while Goniff sincerely hoped that Billy wouldn't drool on him.
Casino grinned. Sooner the Limey than him!
Garrison glanced over his shoulder at Goniff. The boy was asleep...had to be asleep: his face would never assume that defenceless look voluntarily. His gaze shifted from the Billy's face and met Actor's eyes. The conman knew something was up and he wouldn't let the subject drop until he knew everything there was to know.
"What happened?" Actor asked softly, unwilling to disturb the peace that surrounded them, but unable to stop the worry that was gnawing at him.
"Dore's got the location of the new munitions factory the Germans have set up." Garrison's voice was quiet but he could be heard by all his men.
"And?"
"He won't give it to us unless we take him to England."
"What?" Actor's voice rose with his surprise and he shot a look over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't disturbed Billy.
"He says the Germans are onto him," Garrison explained. "If we don't get him out, he'll be arrested and we'll have to find that munitions factory ourselves."
"So, whadda we waitin' for?" Casino asked.
"He's going to meet us on the road later on." Garrison's face was impassive but the tone in his voice showed that he wasn't too pleased with the idea.
"Why doesn't he ask the Resistance to get him out?" As usual, Chief's quiet question was a pertinent one.
Garrison glanced at the Indian. "He says it'll take too long to arrange. He doesn't have the time to wait."
"When are we meeting him?" Actor asked, his voice quiet once more.
"Twenty-one hundred hours. We'll travel as far as we can through the night - we have to be at the coast to meet the boat in two days' time. If the rain lets up early enough, we'll try and find a more...comfortable place to rest."
Casino stretched slightly. "I'd hate to have to try an' sleep in here!"
Looking down at the head resting against his shoulder, Goniff grinned slightly. "The kid doesn't seem to have much of a problem."
Actor stubbed out his cigarette in a thoughtful manner. "What are you going to do with him?" There was a slight movement of his head to show he meant the boy and not the contact.
Chief tensed slightly. "We can't leave him here. Look at him. How long would he survive on his own?"
"We're not leaving him here," Garrison told them. "We're taking him back to England."
"You sure he wants to go?" Casino asked, the look on his face saying what he thought of that idea.
"He'll be better off there...even if he doesn't know it yet." The finality in Garrison's tone was obvious to all.
Chief smiled.