part 4
Casino turned when he heard the Warden's quiet approach. "This what we're lookin' for?" Holding out a file with Barton's name on it he waited while the Lieutenant thumbed through some of the papers. "This whole thing looks like it's stuffed with personnel files."
"This is it! Casino, send Chief back in and get out there to make the pass with the other guard." It wouldn't do for a mechanic to be found patrolling the grounds at night.
g
"What'r we lookin' for, exactly?" Garrison divided the file and handed half to Chief. They were huddled in the corner of a storage room scanning the documents with the aid of flashlights. The room had no window but they'd taken the time to roll up Garrison's jacket and tuck it along the bottom of the door to keep even that dim light from escaping and giving them away if anyone came into the building in the middle of the night.
He started to page down through the documents he held, searching for any thing that might indicate the man was a plant. "I don't know. Anything that doesn't seem to match up. Anything that doesn't make any sense."
"There's not a whole lot here." The young man said, looking down at the few pages he held in his hands.
"Guess he hasn't led a very exciting life." Garrison said absently as he continued to read
"That's good for a spy, isn't it?"
"You, bet! They want to stay as inconspicuous as possible. If he's our guy, he'll work real hard at staying out of trouble."
"Looks like he was good at that. I don't see anything, man. This guy's a real Boy Scout."
Garrison massaged the back of his neck, thinking. They'd both been through every page of Bartons' record. Neither one of them had turned a thing. Just like the report from Reynolds' people. The guy was clean. Perfect. He'd been on base six months and the project had been running seven. "We need to see the pass list."
"The what?" Chief followed as Garrison led the way into the office at the end of the hall.
He'd seen Major Lindmann working in there when he'd come over with Colonel Husoe and hoped the second in command would be in charge of handing out leaves and passes. "The pass list.....it should be around the desk here someplace." After a few tense moments, and a chance to practice picking another drawer lock, they had the document in their hands. "Look for Mitchell. Let's see what kind of time they were cutting him."
"Here! Here he is." Chief had turned the pages back and set his finger under the mans' name.
"That's the day he was killed... Go back in the list, see if he was on it before."
"Right here."
Garrison frowned down at the list "Look at the date"
"That's not right. It ain't even two weeks."
"Wait a minute. Keep going back in the record. Let's see if this weekend pass is out of order"
"Looks like the weekend pass falls right where it's 'spose to." The pattern of names had become apparent as they'd scanned through the list. Mitchell fell right where that pattern told them he should
"Yeah! That twenty-four hour job is the one we need to look into. We need to look at Mitchell's file" Turning the Warden headed for the door.
"Why?"
"To see if he got himself injured. Remember what Barton told me?"
"Yeah. 'it's tradition to cut a guy a pass...'" Chief frowned as he watched the hallway from the door to the office. "But he was a weather man. How'd he get hurt?"
They'd gone back to the room with the personnel files and Garrison had quickly located Mitchell, "Look at this "
Scanning the file Garrison held out to him the young man looked up in surprise. "A jeep hit him? He got a pass for gettin' in an accident right here on the base?"
"Looks like it." Garrison tapped the page further down. "And look who was driving the jeep."
"William Barton"
"BINGO!"
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Another trip through the fence and into town to bring Actor and Goniff back into the woods outside the base. Garrison had learned the value of having the team all together to worry out the flaws in a plan or dissect the facts they'd uncovered on the missions they'd worked over the months they'd been together. Each of them approached a problem from a slightly different angle, and none of them were afraid of pointing out defects in his logic or planning if they spotted them. Chief joined them almost as soon as they arrived and they'd only waited twenty minutes for Casino to get there after he'd finished up his patrol and reported to his Sergeant. They had an hour together before Chief had to report for duty and the Warden had his meeting with Husoe.
"It was a test." Garrison told them. "To make sure the man would go all the way to London They send him up with a blank and when they know he'll follow through then they give him the book with the film in it. It has to be."
"How'd they know he'd go back again?"
"Eight hundred dollars is an excellent incentive Goniff. You're a gambler would you give up a chance to make that kind of money again?" Actor asked.
"That's what they count on. When the man they've marked as a courier calls the number he's been given he has to tell the guy on the phone all about the book he's got. That way they know he's being sent by Barton." Garrison shrugged, looking at his men as they ranged around him. "When he gets in there he has to hand the book over, so it seems right to him when he has to do it the next time,,, makes it exciting too. The house, or at least one of the dealers, lets him win big to hook him into coming back, and then Barton hands over the book with the microfilm in it when the guy gets his regular weekend pass. I think Mitchell was on his second run up there when he got killed in that accident."
"So he didn't know." Actor shook his head at the senseless waste of a young mans' life. "It was just a tragic accident after all."
"Mitchell didn't have any idea. None of the others have either." The Warden leaned back wondering how many men had been duped into helping the enemy. "They've just been going to London to clean up in a high stakes poker game. Some of the names that got those extra twenty-four hour passes match the ones on the gamblers list"
"Y'know Warden." Chief volunteered. "Even Patrick got one a them extra passes."
Garrison frowned. "But he doesn't play here on base" As much as he disliked Patrick he hoped the man wasn't a traitor. "So he doesn't have a connection to Barton."
"Ah! Warden, but he plays in town at the pub!" Goniff told him. "Every chance he gets. And that Barton fella's been down there playin' too."
"What'd we do now?"
"We need to break into that file that's got the stuff on the radar system." Garrison narrowed his eyes and his chin lifted.
"What are you thinking?" They all knew what he was thinking, they'd seen that gleam in the Warden's eye before.
"I'm thinking Corporal Barton might find some way to get me a weekend pass. I think he probably has some new data he needs to move after Husoe's last solo trip out." He looked around at them and smiled. "And I'm thinking we need to make up our own micro film to send to London."
"You're going to pass along classified data to the Germans?!" Actor asked, and the light in his eyes matched Garrisons.
"With a few minor changes..."
"You know how to do that Warden?"
"No, but Reynolds can put some experts on it. We have to know where they are in the testing program though. He could probably find that out but it would take too long. And we can't chance sending something they already have. We need the new stuff." Garrison cocked an eyebrow and smiled around at them. "So we gonna go in there and steal it for him. Actor can take it to him and they can play around with the data some."
"Uh, Warden, isn't it gonna be a little dangerous stealin' secretes here on base?" The specter of a US Army firing squad had planted itself firmly in the safecracker's mind.
"No worse that doing it across the channel, Casino." The Lieutenant assured him.
"But they could still shoot us, right?" Chief asked
Garrison's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Only if we get caught." Then he frowned. "Besides, it's been easy enough to move on and off this base. I want to see how hard it would be to get to the records on that new radar unit. Casino...."
"Lemme guess!"
The Warden laid a consoling hand on the man's shoulder. "Sorry."
Casino closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "Oh no you'r not!"
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It had been much harder to get into this building. Garrison, Chief and Casino watched it through the day and found there were more men patrolling it. They'd waited in the darkness, watching as the guards made their rounds, getting the pattern and timing down before Chief went to change places with Casino so he could work his magic on the locks.
He and Casino found the safe easily enough once they'd gotten inside, moments later Casino was swinging the door open and they were sorting through the documents it held. Garrison scanned the material making sure it was what they were after before sending the safecracker back out to finish his patrol.
Garrison decided he would work alone photographing the documents. If he was spotted that would still leave two of them to get word out to Reynolds and the others, and to keep watch on Barton. He moved quickly through the data, concentrating on the most recent entries, and replaced the bulb in the lamp and returned everything to the safe, slipping out a back window just as the guard stepped through the front door.
g
It took nearly sixty minutes to work his way back to his quarters where Chief was to meet him to pick up the film and take it through the fence to Actor. It seemed there was some one following him, but he couldn't hear anything when he stopped, and never saw anything. He'd spent almost forty minutes waiting patiently in the deep shadows along the side of the building before he decided that he was probably reacting to fatigue and raw nerves. He slipped through the door to his room and closed it quietly behind him. The light on the desk flashed on and he found himself looking directly into the barrel of Andrew Crossmans' pistol.
"Captain Patrick remembered you right off when he saw you in the pub." The young man growled at him. "Told us all about you. Virg said if we watched you long enough you'd show your true colors. He sure was right. Seems that name of yours might be French Garrison, but the blood running in your veins is pure Kraut!" Crossoman waved him away from the door. As he moved along the wall the man stepped up to block the way out, turning to face him where he now stood in the middle of the room.
"Yeah! I remembered him too." They'd decided on two hours for him to get the pictures and get back to his quarters. Chief was due any minute, he just needed to give him time to get there. "He was a big man at the Point. Had himself quite a group of followers. They did pretty much anything he told them to do. In tight with some of the instructors too." There was someone moving up on the door behind Crossman, he could see the shadow on the floor at the bottom of it, and saw the knob start to move. "He was one of the seniors that had me roped to a tree and beaten nearly senseless in a mock interrogation. Said they were testing how I'd hold up under duress. Then they left me out there all night to see about my endurance. Oh, I remember Captain Patrick. He was pretty surprised when I went back to classes after they let me out of the hospital. I'm sure he thought I'd either quit or they'd turn me out like some of the other cadets he'd pulled that kind of thing on."
The door opened silently and Chief slipped in along the wall the knife ready in his hand. "Where is he?" The Warden asked. "Didn't want to be in on the kill himself?"
"Cap's got himself a pass, but he left me to keep an eye on things. And I got you, you son of a bitch. I saw you sneaking around over across the compound and figured you'd head back here."
With a subtle shake of his head Garrison ordered Chief's knife away. He wasn't going to risk the young man's arrest by doing Crossman any injury, even if that increased his own chances of being shot. "Patrick's got himself a pass does he? Wouldn't be headed in to London to do a little gambling, would he?"
Chief was nearly in position, he had to keep Crossman totally focused on him. A step forward riveted the mans' eyes on his face, and the barrel of his pistol dead center on his chest. "He's been up there before, hasn't he? Carried a little book up and got into a game where he won big...."
As Crossman tried to puzzle out how this Kraut traitor had known about that, Chief pulled his head back with an arm across his throat, and Garrison's hand shot out to take the pistol.
Garrison stepped forward and grabbed the front of Andrew Crossman's shirt as Chief pulled his arms behind him. "Patrick have another book with him this time?" The shock on Crossman's face gave him his answer. "Damn it! How long's the pass good for? When'd he leave?!" When the man didn't answer he jerked him forward, nearly off his feet, and brought him close in so they were standing nose to nose. Almost in a whisper he advised him. "Lieutenant, you'd better answer my questions or I'm going to let Chief here ask you, and you won't like that."
Crossman's eyes went wide as he heard a slight metallic click behind him, and he caught the flash of light from the blade that was brought up to rest against his right cheek, just under his eye. It didn't take him long to decide. "It's just for twenty-four hours! He,,, he left after chow tonight, but he always stops at the pub. He's got a thing for a girl that works there in the kitchen."
"Did he get a book to take with him? Is he headed in to London?" Garrison released him and stepped back shoving the pistol he'd taken from him into his pocket as he slipped into his jacket.
"Yeah," The man behind him was practically holding him up now, as soon as the knife dropped away from his face all of the strength had gone out of Crossman's knees.
"What'd you wanna do with him?"
"Bring him along, but tie him up and gag him. Can't have him alerting the whole base." Dragging one of the drawers open Garrison tossed Chief one of his belts and a neatly rolled pair of socks.
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"Sorry we couldn't let you know ahead of time Colonel." They were gathered in Husoes' office. A discrete tap on the door of his quarters by one of the guards had roused him from his rest and brought him here to this meeting. The guard just happened to be Casino.
"This is kind of a fantastical tale Garrison. What if I decide I don't believe you and call the MP's?" Husoe was rocked back in the chair behind his desk. Garrison stood on the other side facing him, and the young man he'd called Chief had one of his men, Crossman he thought, one of Patricks' crew, trussed up and sitting on the couch he used sometimes to catch some sleep between mission and photo debriefs.
"I'm hoping you won't do that, sir. It didn't hurt my feelings too much to tie this guy up and gag him," Garrison jerked his head back towards the man sitting huddled on the couch. "But I wouldn't want to handle you the same way, I kinda like you. And we don't have any time to waste playing games."
"Alright." Husoe considered the young man standing in front of him, and decided he'd probably be able to back up that casually stated threat. "What do you need from me Lieutenant?" He also decided he believe the story he'd just been told.
Garrison started to breathe again. "I need you to keep this absolutely quiet. We need to pick Barton up. My men will handle that if you just keep your guys from getting in the way. I could use your staff car. And I need you to notify the gate that you're sending me off base."
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Actor was just nodding off over a book in his room when a soft tapping at his door brought him to his feet. The door opened and the Warden slipped inside. "Patrick? Has he been here tonight? Have you seen him?"
"Yes. He was here earlier. It seems he fancies the young woman who works in the kitchens. Apparently it is a mutual fascination."
"Is he still here?"
"I don't know." The con artist set the book aside on the table and watched as Garrison started to turn, opening the door again. "We'll have to gain access to the lady to determine that. What's happened?"
"He's got a pass and he's got a book. He's headed for London, but one of his flunkies told us he always stops here first." Garrison was already out the door, heading down the hall for the stairs.
"Goniff will know where to find her. And we'd better make sure Captain Patrick isn't down below stairs gambling with the locals." The con man followed after his commander. He'd already been invited to the gaming, and wouldn't cause a stir if he went in to have a look around, and he was sure they would find Goniff there trying his luck.
Elizabeth Margaret Mary Dunn was Maggie's niece, and had been living and working in the pub since her parents had been killed in London in the blitz. She had a wild side and a liking for the things the airmen could provide. Virgil Patrick had made his way into her bed with nylons and chocolates, and promises of marriage and a life in the States when the war was over. She believed in those promises and didn't want to get him into any trouble with these strange men. She'd already told them he was going to London, but that wasn't wrong, was it? He had his pass
"Miss Dunn, Captain Patrick has information the Germans want on him." Garrison leaned forward across the table towards her, trying to convince her to help them. "He doesn't even know it. If he goes up to that game in London he could be killed. Now I need to know when he left you."
She worried her fingernails with her teeth, watching the man that seemed to be in charge.
"Come on Lizzie. He's telling the truth, luv. You have to tell." Goniff smiled down at her. She was a good kid really, just got tied up with that rotter Patrick.
"He just left 'bout half one. I tried to get him to stay." She stammered and started to cry. "I don't like him on the road at night what with the black outs. It's not safe."
Garrison checked his watch. "That means we still have a chance of catching him. Goniff! Take her down to her aunt. Tell them as much as you have to so they'll keep her quiet. Have them call through to the base and tell Husoe Patrick's headed for London, then tell them to stay in their rooms 'til morning and act like nothing's happened." He called over his shoulder as he followed Actor down the stairs. "Get to the car as fast as you can!"
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Actor claimed to have driven in a road race along the streets of Milan once, and he was proving that story to be true now as they raced along the road through the darkness. The moon was half full and casting just enough light for them to see the road ahead, but they were definitely traveling too fast. Goniff huddled in the back seat with his hands over his eyes. As much as he hated jumping out of planes or traveling on submarines he was praying for the chance to live to see just one more mission.
It was the Warden who spotted him. "There's something up ahead, there." He pointed through the windscreen to the road in front of them, "just taking that turn."
Patrick had seen someone moving up on him in the darkness and increased his speed. Husoe might be right, he might be a good pilot, but he was no match for Actor on this road. Within moments they'd pulled along side. Garrison shouted across to him. "Stop the car Patrick! Pull over!"
"The Hell I will!" The jeep Patrick was driving surged forward but it couldn't beat the car they were in. Actor pulled neatly ahead just as the hedgerows closed on either side of the road, and eased his foot onto the brake, forcing the other man to slow down. As they made the next turn the road opened up again and the Captain tried to come around on their right.
"Run him into the ditch!" Garrison ordered. They were traveling slower now, and the road dropped away to level fields on both sides. Running the man off the road here might still injure him, but if they'd tried it earlier the car might have rolled or crashed into the trees and bushes that made up the hedge they'd just left behind them. Garrison had to admit to himself that he was thinking more of loosing the book and the film it probably contained to another fire than he was of Patricks' safety. He made a grab for the dash and the door as Actor jerked the car to the right forcing the jeep down into the ditch. Their wheels spun in the dirt and the back end fishtailed as the con man fought the heavy vehicle to a stop.
Garrison launched himself from the car, and raced across the road and down the incline to the jeep that was resting with its right hand tires mired in the mud. Grabbing the collar of the Captains' jacket he pulled him out of the seat, and backed up, hauling up onto the road where Actor and Goniff were waiting. "Goniff! Check the car, get everything out of it." Tossing the gun he'd taken from Crossman to his second he stood looking down at the man that lay on the road at his feet and struggled to catch his breath. "The book, where is it?"
Patrick stared up at him from the road. "I don't know what in the hell you're talking about. And even if I did I wouldn't tell you a damn thing, you traitorous Kraut bastard!" He eyes narrowed with hatred. "I knew I'd get you. I knew you were no good way back when I first found out about your family!"
Garrison dropped onto his knees on the road and grabbed Patrick by the front of his jacket. "You don't know anything about a book Virgil?! Alright! Then I'll tell you about it. It's small, fits in the palm of your hand, and slides right into your pocket. Old too. Bound in leather, with those fancy heavy papers on the inside of the covers... It's not the first one you've carried up to London either, it's the third. First one you got after you'd been hurt on one of the missions you flew. That guy at the hospital, Barton, he gave it to you. He told you he could get you into a big game up there if you wanted... and you wanted you greedy bastard. When you got back he told you he could get you in again, any time you wanted. You hit it big up there didn't you Patrick? You wanted to go back alright, so when your weekend pass came up you looked him up again, and he set you right up, and you went up again."
Goniff had come back up onto the road and was looking through the small leather bag he'd found jammed under the front seat. "I got it." Moving up behind Garrison he held the book out.
Actor covered the man when Garrison released him and turned to take the small volume from the little thief. He turned it over in his hands, thumbed through the pages and caught up the slip of paper that fell out on the road. The number to call; he put that away in his breast pocket. Running his fingers lightly over the books' leather binding he searched it, feeling for any sign that something was hidden under the leather. Flipping the cover back he started the same examination of the inside and was rewarded with the discovery of a loose section at the edge of the back cover, and a long, narrow, barely noticeable lump under the marbleized paper. Garrison sat back on his heels in the road and took a deep breath "Barton's a spy Virgil." he said quietly. "He used you to move information off the base in that second book. And he's using you again, to send this out." Patrick had pushed himself up and he was sitting in the road, Garrison handed the book to him, and showed him what he'd found. Reaching up to let Goniff help him to his feet he turned his back on Captain Virgil Patrick. He was a bastard and an idiot, but he wasn't a spy or a traitor. "We need to get this and the film we took up to Reynolds. Actor, you still feel like playing race car driver?"
"Of course." Ignoring Goniffs' moan of protest he gestured towards the officer who still sat in the road staring off into the darkness and asked. "What do we do with him?"
Garrison sighed and turned back to look down at Patrick. "Well, I guess we better move him off to the side of the road so he doesn't get run over." Grabbing the collar of the fliers jacket again he pulled him over to the edge of the road. Bending down he relieved the man of the book he still held in his hands. "You won't mind walking back, will you Virg?" Sliding the book into his pocket he walked to the car and settled into the back and waited for the others to get in.
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It had been a very long day, they didn't get back on base until after dinner and they came through together. Reynolds called and said they were on their way, and Husoe left word at the gate that they'd be coming. He'd also left instructions for Garrison that he could 'collect his men in the Colonels' office.'
The first thing the Warden saw as they stepped through the door to the CO's office was his scout and wheel man resting on the couch in the corner, his left arm supported by a sling. "Chief! What happened to you?" Moving over he eased himself down beside his injured man.
"Aw that coyote Barton ran for it." Chief shrugged his good shoulder and let it drop. "It's nothin'. Casino and I had to run him down, and I tripped and fell wrong. Dislocated it. The doc's put it right again. It's nothin'" He caught the look of alarm that flashed in his commanders eyes. "S'OK Warden. We got him."
Casino was lounging in one of the chairs that sat in front of the Colonels' desk, sipping at some of his Norwegian rot gut. "That guy might not be able to avoid bein' noticed from now on." Raising the glass to his lips he smiled over the rim at them. To their questioning gaze he answered. "It was an accident! I slipped when I got hold of him and sort a scrunched his head into the runway. His nose sort a got smeared across his face a little."
When the man took the next sip from his glass the Warden noticed the bandages that encircled the knuckles of his right hand. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "The runway smeared his nose, did it, Casino?"
"Well, sure. You don't think I'd lie to ya about somethin' like that? Do ya Warden?"
Rattling glasses out of the cabinet and pouring a measure for each of the new comers Husoe turned on Garrison, watching as he took a sip and leaned back into the soft cushions of the couch. "I'm going to do a little nose smearing of my own if someone doesn't tell me the other end of this fairy tale. Patrick came limping in here about lunch time and spilled his guts to me. I've just been waiting around to get the rest of the story." After handing the glasses around to the others he settled himself comfortably into the chair behind his desk. "I got two MP's on that door out there says nobody's going anywhere until I get all of it. So you might as well just start talking."
Goniff made it to the bottom of his glass and at a nod from the Colonel moved over for a refill. Actor, after taking an experimental sip, was trying to decided on a way of inconspicuously dumping the remainder. It reminded him of the fuel Casino had distilled for them in Yugoslavia. It took him a moment to realize that Husoe was still waiting for his explanation. The con man shot a look towards the couch and spotted Garrison, gently snoring there, asleep, so he took up their tale from the time they'd left Patrick sitting at the side of the road. "While they were modifying the test results and getting it on film, the book was steamed open and Bartons' film removed. It wasn't more than an hour before we were ready to move."
"Didn't they know the wrong guy was bringing that book? Weren't they expecting Patrick?" Husoe asked over his drink.
"That was the flaw in Barton's plan." The elegant confidence man smiled at Husoe. "Apparently he never told them anything about the man that he was sending up. When the Lieutenant arrived at the door they let him right in."
"But you couldn't have known that until after you got up there, and he got in and out without getting himself shot." The Colonels' eyebrows climbed into his hair. "You know, I think all you boys in Special Forces must be a little bit crazy."
Garrison roused to the sound of quiet laughter around him. Scrubbing at his face with his hands he sat forward on the couch, shrugged an apology across the room at Husoe, and followed it with a yawn.
"Reynolds gonna leave that place open, Warden?" Chief and Casino had debated the possibility of Intelligence using the game to feed more doctored information to the Germans.
"No. They watched the place and tracked the guy on the door to a man at the docks. They waited to make sure our information got out, then they rounded everybody up and shut it down." Garrison yawned again, ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and gave a quick shake to his head, trying to wake up. "I guess they figured if word got out that we had Barton they might think the stuff was doctored. This way the whole operation disappears. They might not know for weeks that they won't be getting anything more from him."
"What about the guy at the docks? Isn't he what you'd call a loose end?" Husoe again, seeing to the details."
"Bloke had 'imself a fishing boat. You know we get back and forth across the channel like that sometimes," Heading for the cabinet with the bottle again the little man turned to stare at his teammates. 'But I never gave much thought to the Jerries doing the same. Reynolds said they'd let him go over and hand the stuff off, but there'd be a whole line of patrol boats waitin' for him when he tried to get back over here on our side." Goniff tipped another dose of the Colonels' liquor into his glass and shivered has he swallowed it down. "Still gives me the willies to think about it."
"How can you be sure other groups aren't using this same little dodge to get stuff out to the Germans?"
Garrison stretched and winced, rubbing at his side. "We can't. Reynolds has had the place watched since I went up there the first time. They followed them when the game changed location. There were two other guys who brought books to the door. He had them picked up when they came out, and checked them out, found out who'd set them up" Nodding across the office to the Colonel. "As soon as he heard from you, and knew we were moving on Barton, he had the others picked up too. Goniff put the word around to the people he knows in London. The guy running that game didn't know anything about it. He didn't know anything about the guy on the door, or the books..."
"And he was right buggered off when Colonel Reynolds and the Warden explained it all to him too! They all know what kind of con to look for now. That one's not gonna work again. Jerry'll have to find some other way."
"You mean they'r gonna cooperate with the cops?!" Casino had been leaning back in his chair, balancing it on its back legs, and it came down with a loud crack as he sat forward.
"Blimey! D'you think they'r nuts! A 'course not! But the guys that work with Reynolds,,, They don't mind if a bloke makes an honest living running cards, or numbers or such. They won't mind reportin' to them."
Pushing to his feet and reaching back to give Chief a hand up Garrison turned back to Husoe. "Colonel, if you've got all of your questions answered we'd better head out of here."
"I could arrange quarters for all of you on base here. Give you one full night of safe, uninterrupted sleep."
"No offense Colonel, but I think our base is a little more secure." The Warden reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I need to talk to you about that, sir."
"Now Lieutenant. You don't think I didn't know about that hole you guys cut in my fence, do you?"
"But.... " Looking into the older officers broad smiling face he shook his head and asked. "When'd you first suspect me?"
"About the same time you walked onto the base. I'm ashamed to say it but Patrick's little tirade made me look twice at you, what with that pitiful excuse for a duty assignment they handed you."
So he hadn't imagined being followed back to his quarters. He wondered if all of his shadows had been keeping track of him for Patrick, or if Husoe had his own men tagging after him. "When'd you change your mind?"
"Oh, almost the same second. I figured any spy worth his salt would be able to come up with a better story than that! And then when you took over that gun up there... Well, I didn't figure you'd be such a quick study if you'd been shooting at your own side." As they stood and shook hands he continued. "You know Lieutenant, if you ever decide to give up those blisters you'd probably make a pretty good addition to a bomber crew, and you already know how to fly."
"No thanks, Colonel!" Garrison laughed "Casino's right. I think all you guys are a little bit crazy."
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"Who's gonna drive? I'm beat." The safecracker looked innocently around the group as they gathered in front of Husoes' command center and yawned. Waving his hand towards the Indian he said reasonably "Well, he always drives."
"I'll do it." Goniff shouldered past Casino and jabbed a finger in Actor's direction. "That one'll kill ya'. He drives like a maniac! 'sides I never get to drive." He helped Chief into the riders seat up front and waited as the Warden climbed into the back.
Casino settled on the back seat between the Warden and Actor, leaning forward he rested his arms on the top of the front seat. "That's 'cause we can't trust you to end up on the right side of the road!"
"Hey! I'm a good driver. I'm just out a practice, is all." Goniff asserted as he slid behind the wheel and started the car jerking on it's way, the gears protesting his mismanagement of the clutch.
"You'r just lousy, is all! See that!" Casino reached forward and punched Goniff in the shoulder. "You almost hit that! Pull over to the side you dumb Limey. You don't get to take your half out a the middle ya know!"
Garrison was leaning back in the corner with his eyes closed. "Casino!"
"Yeah, Warden, what is it?"
"You know that firing squad you've been worried about?"
"Yeah?" The safecracker's eyes widened slightly, and he turned his head to look at his leader.
"If you don't shut up so I can get some sleep back here," The Warden continued quietly, his eyes still closed, "I'm ordering Goniff to stop this thing and I'm going to form myself into a firing squad of one!"
Casino thought better of the comment that was on the tip of his tongue as Goniff ground the gears again. He'd seen the Warden with a gun,,, the guy never missed! The safecracker leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest and glared out the window in front of him.
Goniff watched Casino huffing to himself in the mirror and sniggered. "Hey, Warden?"
"Shut up and drive Goniff." The Lieutenant frowned, brows lowering over still shuttered eyes.
"But that game up there." The cockney persisted, refusing to take the hint. "How much d'you take 'em for then?"
One eye opened and fixed on the cat burglar's image in the rear view mirror. "Goniff," he said reasonably, "you could be standing right next to Casino...."
Ah, finally, he thought,, Silence.
Garrison burrowed down into the corner and prepared to go to sleep. He turned onto his right side, frowning as he had to shift his position to avoid resting on a rather sizable roll of bills he'd jammed deep in his pocket.
The end
