by Dale Harsh
Garrison pushed himself to his knees and watched the men on the ground as he stripped his jacket off. He saw the jeep slide to a stop and the driver get out and turn Actor roughly onto his back using the muzzle of his weapon. And he saw Actor put his hands up in surrender. Wind whipped his hair as he glanced quickly back into the interior of the plane. Casino was helping Goniff lean back against the wall opposite the door, using the pressure of his hand over the wound in the cat burglar's arm to control the bleeding. Chief had just started to move towards him, coming back to the door in response to Actor's absence. Wadding his jacket in a tight ball he tossed it in Chief's face just as the realization of what he was about to do dawned in the young man's eyes. Catching up his rife he rolled out the opening as the plane's wheels left the ground.
Chief tore the jacket away from his face and threw it from him. The plane was in the air, gaining speed and altitude every second. Grabbing the frame he leaned out and stared back on the field. Two men stood over Actor with their rifles trained on him as he lay on his back in the dirt. The young man urgently scanned the ground between the men and the plane's diminishing shadow as it raced along the ground. There was no sign of the Warden. As he shouted at the others and turned for the cockpit the plane's landing gear caught the tree tops jolting the craft and slamming him hard against the floor, stunning him and sending up the sharp odor of pine resin and filling the air around them with the screeching sound of twisted metal.
Lying on his back in the icy water of the irrigation ditch, cradling his weapon in his arms, Garrison watched the plane disappear over the tree tops as the starboard landing gear crashed through the branches and landed at the far edge of the field. Rolling onto his belly he started to crawl carefully through the mud and reeds back towards the middle of the field where he could hear the soldiers shout for their captive to 'Stand or be shot.'
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Creeping slowly along the trench, inching past the sound of angry orders and murmured responses he made his way to a position between the soldiers and their vehicle. Using his hands he parted the reeds and scanned the area around the jeep, searching the route they'd taken to reach the field. Good! No sign of back up, nothing but the two men who threatened Actor... Yet. They had to get out of here before anyone else showed up. Turning he crept back along the small canal and got as close as he could to the three men before pushing himself up into a crouch and bringing the weapon to his shoulder.
Actor stared up along the barrel of the automatic that was directed at his face. The man that held it was young, determined, and angry, his finger was already beginning to squeeze down on the trigger. The confidence man closed his eyes and said a silent prayer, asking for forgiveness of his sins and short comings, and added a request that the young man's aim be true and his end swift. Sound and pain came together with a flash of light as a great weight drove the air from his lungs. Another sharp report from a rifle, but he felt no additional pain and only heard the muffled crash of something heavy landing on the ground near his head.
Garrison kept his rifle up and the men on the ground in his sights as he moved up out of the ditch in a crouching run. Nothing! No movement, no sound... From any of them. He prodded the first man he came to hard in the back with his weapon and then kicked the other off Actor with his boot. Making a quick survey of the man as he dropped down by his side he took in the crimson stain on the side of his trousers and the blood oozing from small round wound on his face near his right eye. Holding his breath he wiped the mud from his hand and reached out to search for a pulse at the con man's throat. Relief flooded through him as the bounding proof of life telegraphed itself through his fingertips. "Actor! Can you hear me?"
The man on the ground took in a huge shuddering breath. Slowly opening his eyes he stared intently into Garrison's face, boring into the hazel eyes with his own dark gaze. "Have you gone out of you mind?! You were safely away on the plane!"
Raising his eyebrows in grateful amusement he reached out to grasp the hand held out to him. "You're welcome!" Pulling Actor into a sitting position Garrison searched through his pockets for a folded cloth to lay over the wound on the side of his second's face, placing the man's hand over it he urged him to apply pressure as he turned his attention to the injured leg. "I can always catch the next one." he mumbled. Tearing the fabric he found the entry wound about half way between the hip and knee on the back of the left leg. No exit wound. Damn! He'd have to find a doctor or carve it out himself. Glancing quickly around them he shouldered his weapon and stood, pulling the injured man up with him. "Come on, we've got to get out of here. They may have radioed for help." Bending forward quickly he slid a shoulder under the tall Italian and lifted him off his feet drawing him across his back and shoulder as the con man groaned in protest.
Actor watched as he was unceremoniously carried past the jeep and the weapons lying on the ground near the dead men. "The guns? The vehicle...?" The uniforms, he thought, the papers!
"We've got to leave it all. If we take anything they'll know someone's still on the ground." The signs of the plane were there to be seen, he hoped anyone who came across the men, and the Warden knew in his soul someone was already on the way, would concentrate on those and believe they'd all gotten away. It would be hard enough to get an injured man out of Italy by himself, he didn't need a pack of German soldiers tracking him too.
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Garrison moved quickly towards the trees, out of the open and back into deep cover. Finding a small clearing surrounded by dense brush at the base of a large tree he carefully lowered Actor to the ground. Laying his automatic aside he shrugged out of his shoulder holster, grabbing the front of his shirt he gave a firm jerk, sending buttons flying as he stripped it off and started tearing the fabric into strips.
"You're insane!" accepting the folded cloth Actor gritted his teeth as he pressed it against the wound in his leg and held it in place as the Lieutenant tied it down with another strip of fabric. "You'll freeze to death in this weather."
The Warden surveyed his handiwork and reached out to squeeze Actor's shoulder as he picked up his rifle. "I'll stay warm enough lugging you around these woods." Turning he ran back out onto the field to make a last check, make sure nothing of theirs was left behind to tip the Germans to their presence. Searching the ground he found nothing but the blood stain and impression Actor left where he fell. Pulling one of the dead soldiers up to cover the area he willed any observer to believe the man had fallen and then jerked forward in his death throes.
Passing the jeep on the way back to the trees he stopped and turned back as the comment Actor made penetrated through the surge of adrenaline and his overwhelming urge for haste. Moving up on the vehicle he made a quick survey of the contents in the back and saw just what he hoped for... Two coats thrown there by the soldiers when they'd gotten too warm as they patrolled the area before they spotted his group and gave chase. Lifting the heavy garments off the floor he checked for a first aid pouch or ration pack but came up empty as the sound of engines coming rapidly along the road reached his ears. Gathering the coats in his arms he raced for the trees and slid in under the brush bordering the field just as another jeep came in sight followed closely by a truck with half a dozen German soldiers riding on benches in the back.
Hidden in the underbrush he watched as they approached the scene. They weren't on alert, none of them held their weapons ready for action. The jeep slowed and pulled carefully off the road onto the rough surface of the field as the truck pulled to a stop, waiting. The men weren't responding to a radio call for help, he realized, they were traveling along the route on their own business and had spotted the jeep stranded in the field. The vehicle was blocking their view of the men on the ground. Garrison pushed the coats aside, out of his way, and stretched out on his belly bringing his weapon up, readying himself to defend their position if the men came this way.
He took a deep breath settling himself in as he sighted along the barrel of the rifle and watched. The second jeep came to a halt in back of the first and the driver got out, moving cautiously towards the abandoned vehicle. It looked like the man might be holding a pistol in his hand. After a quick look in the jeep the bodies on the field must have finally caught his attention because he turned and shouted for the others and ran forward to check the men that lay sprawled in the grass. The three others from the jeep were racing forward now, huddling around the man as he confirmed the deaths. One of them turned towards him to survey the tree line surrounding the field and Garrison willed himself to sink deeper into the duff and leaves under the bushes. The driver of the truck pulled onto the field forward of the two jeeps, and from their higher vantage point in the back two of the men were gesturing out onto the field. One of them jumped down from the truck and strode out into the open, calling back over his shoulder he motioned for the others to come forward as he came to a halt next to the tracks the plane's tires left in the soft dirt. As he watched another soldier sighted along the furrows in the ground and gestured towards the far edge of the field, drawing attention to the gap in the tree tops where the plane had torn through bare minutes before.
Garrison pulled the strap over his head and settled the rifle onto his back. Gathering the coats in his arms he squirmed backwards, never taking his eyes off the action on the field until he moved through a curtain of underbrush that finally blocked his sight. Pushing up to a crouch he ran for Actor's simple sanctuary.
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"How many?" The sound of the engines had reached him along with the muffled shouts of the new arrivals. Actor lower the pistol he'd snatched from Garrison's holster when he'd heard the sounds of someone moving towards him through the brush.
"A dozen, maybe more." Swinging the weapon off his back he shook out one of the coats and pulled it on. Glancing down at his second his mouth turned up in a quick smile. "Satisfied?" Shaking out the other he dropped down to help Actor into it. There was a fine sheen of sweat across the aristocratic face and the Italian con man clutched his own jacket around him as he started to shake with shock in reaction to his injuries. "What about the leg? Do you think it's broken?"
"I don't think so. It's just gone a bit numb around the wound. I was able to raise myself up on it when you came crashing back in here." The older man started to lever himself up, attempting to stand. If they were going to move they'd need to do it now, while the leg was numb, if it would hold him, before the pain hit and the bleeding made him too weak to travel under his own power. He knew it, and so did his commander.
Garrison drew Actor's right arm across the back of his neck and threw his arm around the man's waist, grabbing his belt as the older man pulled himself up and stepped out to try his weight on the injured leg. A stifled moan told him what the attempt cost. "Nice and slow. We're going to move straight away from here and put as much ground between us as possible while they search the field." Pulling the hand down against his shoulder, leaning to the right, he tried to take as much of Actor's weight as he could as they moved off through the trees.
"Do you think they will follow us?"
"Only if they have dogs along that can sniff us out. The driver of the truck ran right over our tracks and then the men in the back trampled all over them when they got down. Would have pissed the hell out of Chief." Garrison shot a worried glance along his shoulder as the con man stumbled. "You know how he gets..."
The reply was forced out through clenched jaws. "For someone who claims to be 'no tracker' he seems unnaturally interested in foot prints and shoe size."
Garrison shifted his grip, the perspiration on Actor's hand was making it slick and hard to grasp. "You think he's developing an obsession?"
There was a snort of laughter followed by a low whine of pain. "Foot fetish..." and the confidence expert went limp.
"Nice try." Garrison expertly turned the taller man against a tree and leaning down to catch him around the back of his legs shifted him up onto his shoulder and continued on their way stooping under his load. The big Italian was heavy. He'd have to find a safe place to see to his injuries and let him rest while he found them some sort of transportation. The maps were in his jacket, along with the film of the documents they'd been sent in to get. He said a silent prayer that his men would get safe back to England with it, and that the pilot had enough skill to bring that bird down on one leg. The way he'd ripped through the tree tops Garrison doubted the landing gear he had left would retract, even by hand.
Clearing his mind he forced his memory to focus on the area map he'd studied and shifted his direction more to the east. If he was right there was a town that direction, and hills above it. Hills meant water, caves or canyons where they could hide. A town would have cars, trucks... A doctor? Underground? Craig hadn't been told anything about partisan activity in the area. Maybe it didn't exist, maybe the brass just hadn't thought they'd needed that information to pull off the latest job. The plane and pilot had been sent in from England, and the pilot had hauled his own fuel for the return trip, gassing up by hand as he waited for them to reach the field. Thank God he'd finished the job and had the propellers turning when they'd been chased down along the road by that damn jeep. Everything had gone perfectly until they showed up. Even their own truck giving up the ghost less than a quarter mile from the extraction site hadn't caused them too much concern. They were so close...! Just a couple of inches more and he would have been able to haul Actor into the plane! Garrison shook his head and shook himself back to reality. Going over what could have, should have happened wouldn't do them any good, he had to concentrate on what needed to happen now.
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He found their cave. Just as the light was failing. Just as his knees threatened to collapse in protest at carrying more than twice his weight up hill for so long. The place was dry and had a fire ring built along the back wall, a smudge of soot ran up the rocks and out across the deep overhang, standing witness to the area's use by hunters or travelers in the past. The long gone past Garrison thought, even the smell of burned wood was gone from the ashes that were left in the ring. Shifting Actor off his shoulder he lowered him carefully down onto the smooth dirt near the old fire ring and hunkered down to check the bandage on the leg. The cloth of the trouser leg and bandage was soaked with blood but the bleeding seemed to have stopped for now so he didn't lift the dressing away, no sense in getting that started up again. Moving to examine the wound near his eye in the failing light he could make out blood caked in rivulets that ran up across the high forehead and into the fastidious con man's hair. His breathing and pulse were a little fast but steady, however he was cold and his clothes were damp with sweat.
All right, he thought, first order of business, fire.
If he'd kept the right course and had recalled the map clearly the town was still further around these hills to the south, the cave was facing territory they'd already covered. They hadn't crossed any road or path, Garrison had seen no sign of a farm or home of any kind. There should be no one out there to see the flickering light of a small fire if its glow reached further than the trees that stood guard outside the entrance to this shelter. He'd build the damn thing even if that weren't true, he chided himself, Actor needed the warmth. There was plenty of fuel within steps of the entrance, dry, small enough to break up with his hands. Patting through the pockets of his stolen coat he blessed the almost universal addiction of soldiers to smoking as he pulled a lighter from the deep pocket on the right front panel.
Setting his little pyramid of kindling alight he patiently fed larger and larger pieces to it until it burned steadily on its own. Turning back to Actor he made a closer examination of his face and frowned.
Second order of business, water!
If Actor came to and put his hands on that mess he'd never hear the end of it. It wouldn't matter that there wasn't a mirror for miles the narcissistic sophisticate's elegant finger tips would find every flake of dried blood, every smudge of dirt, every imperfection on that face and every snarl in the thick dark hair. Garrison freely admitted to himself that he'd rather face a Gestapo interrogation than listen to the complaints that would elicit. He'd heard the riffle of a small stream as he searched the base of the hills for this shelter, it couldn't be far. Casting a desperate glance around the small cavern he blessed the forgetful idiot who'd left the metal bowl behind, until he spotted the small hole that some how managed to be in the side a little better than half way to the rim. Placing his finger over the hole to plug it he swore softly as jagged metal pierced his flesh. Sucking on the painful spot he pondered why anyone would knock a nail through the side of a bowl and came up with the bright idea that someone had nailed the thing to a tree to shave........ 'Aw Hell!' he thought. 'There's a mirror around here somewhere too!' He checked to make certain Actor was resting comfortably and headed towards the sound of water.
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When Actor came to his senses again it was to the rhythmic sound of dripping water and the crackle of a small fire. He started when the cool cloth touched his face.
"Take it easy. Just a little more..." Garrison rocked back on his heels. The wound and face were clean, he couldn't do much about the hair. He caught Actor's hand as he reached up to touch his face, guiding it back down he slipped it under the coat he'd thrown over him. "Keep your hands down, no sense getting it dirty again. How do you feel?"
"If I said 'fine' would you believe me?" The older man opened his eyes, winced and turned his head away from the light of the fire. "It feels as if half my face has been torn away."
"It only feels that way." Garrison reassured him quickly. "It's not that bad actually. I think you got hit by the barrel of the man's gun when he fell." He looked at the wound again, if they had a doctor around to stitch it, it would be nothing. With no way to hold the flap of skin down Actor might end up with a scar, something that would concern him far more than the wound in his leg. "You might end up with a very distinguished scar next to your eye there." He was ready and caught the hand again as it came up.
The con artist closed his eyes. He could imagine what he looked like. All these years, he mused, and never a mark... "I'll have to come up with a story."
"Duel?"
"Certainly. Over a lady's honor." It actually had some appeal. It would lend some drama and mystery to his characters. He sighed and opened his eyes again. It could have been much worse... he could have lost the eye. He'd used an eye patch occasionally and had no desire to make it a permanent part of his persona.
"How's the leg?"
"Throbbing very noticeably. Did the bullet go all the way through?" he asked.
"Afraid not."
"Then you are going to have to remove it if you can't find a doctor." Actor looked around their shelter and settled his gaze on his commander. "Is it safe to assume we are not near a town with a doctor?"
"If I remember the map correctly there should be a town about four miles from here."
"I can hardly make that..." Actor watched the Warden's face pale slightly. "There's no sense in putting this off." He hoped he'd sounded more confident than he felt.
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Garrison was laying out the supplies in their makeshift 'surgery'. He used the metal bowl to boil the blade of his knife. At least that would be clean. There was no soap around. A thorough search of their refuge had only turned up the fragments of that mirror and the rusted remnants of a metal lantern tossed away in a corner He tore the lining out of the coat he'd taken for himself and would use that for bandages and binding, but the best he could do to clean his hands was to scrub them over and over in the gravel of the stream and then douse them with hot water. "I wish our positions were reversed."
"I'm ashamed to admit I agree with you, but what are you're reasons?" Actor fully realized he wanted no part in the pain he was about to experience no matter how 'necessary' it was to remove the bullet and tend to the wound. How many times had he fed the others that line and reassured them that it wouldn't take him long? This would be the first time he'd be on the receiving end of the procedure. Some how he didn't find the prospect appealing.
"You know more about what you're doing when it comes to this stuff." There was just a slight hesitation in the Warden's voice. He had the training to do the job, but for the months they'd worked together Actor had always taken on the part of the group's medic. "I wish we had Chief here too." And to Actor's questioning glance the Lieutenant answered with a shrug, "His knife's sharper than mine."
With the Warden's help Actor turned onto his belly and slipped the folded cloth he held in his hand between his teeth. They'd thrown the coat Garrison had been using around a large rock and the con man grasped a sleeve in each hand. Glancing over his shoulder his attention was drawn by the knife the Lieutenant held in his hands. Taking a deep breath Actor nodded and turned away as the other man set to work.
Garrison rested his weight on Actor's lower leg, pinning it to the ground as he spread the fingers of his left hand on either side of the wound, he had to follow as Actor tried to move away from the pressure. He'd prodded the injury enough to know the bullet's position. The slug didn't seem very deep and with luck he'd have it out in a moment, but he still said a quick prayer and wished Actor would make it easier on both of them and pass out. He closed his eyes briefly before he started and searched back in his memory to what they'd taught them about the anatomy of the muscles of the back of the leg. Shifting slightly he brought the knife down in a quick stroke and prayed he'd gotten it right, that he'd sliced along the length of the muscle so the damage wouldn't be so great, if he made a mistake here he could cripple the sophisticated con artist. A distinguished scar was one thing, a leg that required a brace and cane...... it didn't do to think about it. There'd been a moan and jerk from the man at the initial incision but somehow he'd managed to master the pain and lay still now, waiting.
Another slice and Garrison felt his knife grate against the slug. Turning the tip of the blade into the wound he worked it under the object and tried to lever it out but met with resistance. He forced the fingers of his left hand down into the wound and found he'd done a good job in following the muscle fibers, they'd closed back around the bullet and he had to spread the wound wide to get the slug out. Lifting it free he tossed it aside and turned back to pad the injury with the dressings he'd created, pressing down to control the bleeding. Blood quickly soaked the first pad and as he picked up the next to place it over the first he glanced up to see how Actor was holding up. Reaching up he tugged the man's arm down where he could check his pulse, it was rapid but regular. The con man had lost consciousness and was blissfully unaware of his surroundings.
It took a concentrated hour to stop the bleeding and get the wound dressed. Garrison finished ripping the sleeves from the coat, Actor had started the job during the initial incision, and folded one into a square to pillow his second's head, the other he rolled and placed under the knee of the injured leg when he turned him onto his back. He spread the coat over him and checked to make sure he was resting quietly before leaving to wash his hands in the stream, and bring more wood in for the fire. If they were lucky the big Italian would remain asleep for several hours, putting off his discomfort and giving the wound time to bind before they had to be on the move.
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It was after sunrise the next day before Actor groaned and started on his way back. Garrison was sitting by his side, ready to stop him from disturbing the bandages.
"How're you feeling?"
Actor blinked and peered around him. "The accommodations were better in my dream."
Garrison snorted a laugh. "I'll bet they were." He'd made a trip out to the stream before dawn and washed and filled the bowl. "Come on. Let me help you up so you can get some water." Slipping his arm around the older man's shoulders he lifted him up just enough to make it easier for him to take a drink and held the container while he took what he needed.
"How long was I asleep?" Actor looked at the light streaming in the opening to the cave and then shifted his gaze up into the face of his commander.
"Seven or eight hours. It was close to midnight when we finished up." Letting the con man rest back against the ground he turned his attention to the dressing on his leg. 'So far so good,' he thought. There'd been some seepage of blood up into the newest dressing but it hadn't gotten any worse for a couple of hours now. "I need to get out and get some more water and wood. Will you be alright if I leave you for a while?"
He got a nod for his answer as the other man closed his eyes and shifted his weight away from the injured leg.
When the Warden got back with the water Actor was asleep again. He checked and found the fever the flush on the man's face promised. It didn't seem bad and he knew it was normal for the injury he'd suffered but mentally crossed his fingers against it getting any worse. He set the water between the fire and the sleeping man and moved quietly back outside. It looked like they'd be here a while, he might as well do what he could to make their accommodations more comfortable. Searching the trees around the cave he found pine boughs that could be easily stripped and brought arm loads inside. When Actor woke again he'd help him move away from the fire while he built a pallet to insulate him from the cold ground. He'd spotted food while he was out, bushes down along the stream that had berries on them ... cattail and onions along the water way. There would be more if he could take the time to search for it. He roused Actor and got him to take some more water, telling him where he was going before the man sank back to sleep.
As the injured man drifted in and out Garrison was there with water, cool damp cloths, and reassurance, he even managed to entice him into eating a few of the sweet berries he'd gathered. By the time he'd come fully awake a little brew of those berries was waiting to help warm him, and a few small fish from the stream had been roasted and set aside on a rock to stay warm by the fire until his hunger reasserted itself.
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It was the second evening in their refuge and they were both resting back against the rocks that ringed the fire, Actor licking the fingers that had recently held the fish he'd made a meal of. "Why don't you ever cook at the estate? Leaving it to Goniff and Casino when you can produce something like that is a crime!"
Garrison laughed. "I can't do it without a wood fire. And the only thing I can manage to cook on a stove in a pan without burning it is an egg....and even that's iffy." He lifted the bowl and offered the last of the hot berry juice to Actor. "And before this is over you're going to get pretty tired of my efforts at cooking and you'll be longing for their 'Boiled Potato Surprise' ."
Actor shuddered at the thought , reaching out he accepted the bowl and asked, "What do you know about this area? Do you think there's any help near by?"
"You probably have more first hand knowledge than I do about the area we're in. I was in Germany and France, but not here. My Italian wasn't quite good enough so I never worked with the resistance in Italy, Collin did that."
"Collin?" Actor leaned back and studied his commander as he sipped the sweet drink. He never talked much about what he'd done before the group was formed, and Garrison still didn't know that Actor had been given the opportunity to read his file and knew more about his military and personal background than he'd told him himself. "I've never heard you mention that name."
The Warden hesitated a moment before he answered. "Collin and I went through some special training together." Then he smiled and continued, "Now if you wanted a cook you should have known Collin. We used to rib him about making rock soup, but whatever he put in the pot just seemed to come out tasting good, so we never questioned the ingredients or his methods."
The older man watched as Garrison pushed up to his feet. The wording of his comment hadn't been lost on him..., past tense. This remembered Collin was obviously dead. But the memory was a pleasant one apparently and he decided not to disturb it by asking what had happened. Reaching a long arm up he handed over the bowl and watched as the Warden gathered the debris from their meal together to dispose of it outside.
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The bowl was filled with water again, and a bark 'tray' had been loaded with berries. The fire was crackling nicely and fuel was stacked close at hand. One of the rifles was lying near by on the ground. Garrison spread the long coat, sleeveless now, over Actor's legs and stood looking down at him. "Are you sure you'll be alright alone here for a little while?"
"Do we have a choice?" Smiling up at his leader he assured him. "I'll be fine here for a while. I have everything that I need. And you have to know more about where we are and you can't do that from here."
They didn't have any other choice and they both knew it, but it didn't make it any easier to go off and leave an injured man behind. Garrison made short forays down the trail towards the town during the morning. He'd gotten far enough to see down into it from his position on the hillside. It appeared to be ringed by small farms and orchards. It looked like there was enough cover to get in close and see what he needed to see to decide if they might find help there. But if he was caught, if something happened and he couldn't make it back up here Actor wouldn't be able to get out on his own.
"Alright. I'm going to take my time going in, but I should be back up here by early evening. You sure you don't want to drink that water and let me fill the bowl up again before I go?"
The con man laughed. "No thank you. It was hard enough getting around with you helping. I think I'll ration the water until you return."
Garrison smiled and nodded, taking the pistol from the shoulder holster he tucked it deep into the pocket of his trousers. He didn't like carrying it there, it was hard to get to, but he could hardly use the holster and he didn't want to risk anyone seeing it if he tucked it into the band at his waist. First thing he'd try for would be another shirt or jacket that would let him hide the weapon from view.
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It'd taken nearly an hour to get down to the edge of the community. Garrison kept to the trees off along side the path that led through the small holdings surrounding the town. He took note of the crops and animals that ranged the yards around the houses and made a mental note of the places where the chicken coops where far enough away that he thought he might hazard stealing a few eggs, or even a bird to supplement their diet. As he got closer to the small town he came across a goldmine... the town dump. A bit of foraging there outfitted him with a ragged coat and a small wobbly handcart. Trading was a time honored profession and certainly something an injured ex-solider might be expected to do. He tossed some dented pots and a cracked pitcher on board and practiced a limp as he made his way into town. Moving down the alleys towards the center of town he added worn clothing and patched blankets 'borrowed' from the houses along the way to the store of supplies growing on his cart. Stopping to rummage through a small shed at the back of a prosperous looking townhouse he lifted a set of tools and secreted them away under the horde of cast offs.
As he made his way closer to the main streets he pulled out a strip of fabric that was stained with Actor's blood and wrapped it around his left hand. It didn't take half a block before he was challenged by a German soldier. Holding his bloodied hand up and asking in halting German for the doctor seemed to satisfy the man's need to know what he was doing in town, but the directions he got caused his heart to sink. The local doctor had died the soldier said, and the medic in the German headquarters was taking care of the local populace now. Smiling his thanks he limped off in the direction the man pointed and kept on his course until the soldier turned away. Slipping off down a side street he leaned against the wall and considered his next move. He needed medical supplies if he could get them. He already had clothing... it was worn and dirty, but it would certainly blend in in this time of scarcity and need if they had to move around as locals. He'd had a chance of finding a sympathizer in a local doctor but getting into the German medic would require a real injury. Unwrapping his hand he tossed aside the stained fabric. Reaching under his treasury of seconds he brought out the screwdriver. Before he could give it much thought he raked the corner of the blade down his left forearm towards the wrist leaving a jagged shallow gash. Picking up one of the dirty rags he'd loaded on the cart he shook dust over the wound and shoved the ragged edges back with the soiled cloth before tossing it away in the bushes. Shoving the screwdriver out of sight he tore a strip off the soiled undershirt he wore and wrapped it over the wound that was now bleeding freely. Shoving the cart back out onto the main street he limped on his way.
By the time he'd found the headquarters building the rag around his arm was nicely stained with blood. When the soldier on guard at the door stopped him he didn't ask for the doctor. Stooping to his cart he came up with the cracked pitcher and turning a vacant smile on the solider offered to trade it for a cigarette. When the man scoffed at his bargain and ordered him on his way he shrugged and turned to leave, stumbling to his knees and tipping some of his merchandise onto the street with a clatter just as an officer appeared in the doorway of the building. When the solider moved forward and prodded him in the ribs with his rifle Garrison slumped to the ground between the handles of the cart and clutched his arm to his chest. The officer shouted an order for the guard to stand back and moved to his side. Reaching a strong hand down the man grasped Garrison under the arm and helped pull him up onto his feet. Craig looked up and mumbled his thanks, the only resistance he offered as the officer guided him inside the building was his concern about leaving his cart unattended on the street. He gave another smile and murmured his gratitude as the officer instructed the irritated guard to look after his precious store of things while they went inside to find the medic.
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He was left alone in the first aid room long enough to lift a supply of sulfa powder and dressings and a roll of tape and slip them inside his shirt. He took a quick look around for morphine but came up empty, that would be kept locked away but it had been worth a try. He did managed to tip a few aspirin tablets into his pocket before he heard steps outside the door that sent him back onto his stool in the corner of the room.
When the young medic came smiling towards him and asked what was wrong he lifted his arm out of his lap. Garrison watched as the man unwrapped and examined it. The wound was carefully probed and cleaned and an ointment applied before it was wrapped in a thick coating of clean gauze. As he slipped off the stool and followed the medic to the door he palmed the tube of ointment and slid it into the pocket of his trousers.
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Actor looked up as he moved into the cave. He had a fine sheen of sweat on his face and he was flushed, his eyes narrowed with pain. Garrison moved across to him and noted the empty bowl. He reached down to retrieve it leaving his basket on the ground near the con man as he turned to head out to the nearby stream to refill it with water.
Actor caught at his wrist and looked up at him. "How did you injure yourself?"
"It's nothing, just a way to get in to see the medic." And he lifted the other man's hand away and ducked out of the entrance to the cave.
He'd left the cart at the bottom of the hill hidden away in the bushes and carried the supplies he'd stolen up in a basket he'd found in the chicken house he'd marked on the way into town. Actor sorted through the items in the container and called out. "You'll have to find another mark if you took all of this from the same farm. She'll never forgive you for hitting her twice."
By the time he'd returned with the water Actor had found the first aid supplies, the eggs, bread, cheese and the square of butter. The bowls, cups and spoons still rested in the basket, along with the dented sauce pan.
Reaching into his pocket he drew out the handful of aspirin. "Here, it looks like you could use a couple of these." And he watched as the older man swallowed two of the tablets down with water. "I'll need to wash this stuff down in the stream, and then I'll take another look at that leg." Picking up the basket he headed back towards the entrance to the cave. "If you're hungry tear into some of that bread. Do you want fish again, or will the eggs do for dinner?"
"Eggs will be fine,,, if you promise not to burn them."
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"So you don't think the resistance is active in this area?"
"Actor I've been down there three times and haven't heard any complaint against the treatment these people are getting from the Germans. There's no way to start asking around for the underground if no one's grousing about the conquerors. This little pocket of Italy might still be behind Hitler. I don't think we're going to find what we need down in that town."
"What do you propose?" The dressing on his leg had been changed, the wound on his face carefully scrubbed and taped down again and though he hadn't been hungry when Garrison started cooking the meal, the smell of eggs and cheese and the subtle odor of the wild onions that had gone into the mix had tempted him and Actor had been surprised to reach the bottom of his bowl so quickly. The Lieutenant's forays into town had netted them a small store of salt and even a jar of cream and a bottle of serviceable wine. The Warden had found fruit on the trees, a ready supply of eggs and could be relied upon to produce fish for a meal, but he'd also managed to steal a chicken out of one of the yards and trap a rabbit. They certainly weren't going to go hungry, but they couldn't stay here indefinitely.
"Well, now that they're used to seeing me around town I think I can get us some uniforms and even a car so we can get out of here in style."
The older man nodded. When they'd first started working together he'd thought the Lieutenant was a novice when it came to crime, but he was beginning to realize the younger man might have certain skills that he'd kept to himself.
Garrison finished the contents of the mug he held in his hands. He'd found an apple tree going wild on the edge of town and steeped some of the fruit in hot water. It wouldn't replace coffee, but it was warm and soothing. "I'll go down early tomorrow and see what I can find. We have to get out of here so we can get some kind of message back to England. Reynolds probably has his hands full trying to control the others right about now."
Actor smiled his agreement. When the group was first formed the Warden's absence would have seen the men striking out for home on their own. Now it was just as likely they would be trying to find their way back into Europe to search for them.
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"But I can't send you back. We still haven't had any word on them." Reynolds studied the men ranged around his office. When he first met them he'd never have believed they could show this much concern for one another. "We only have a general idea where they might be, and none of you speak Italian well enough to go over and operate on your own."
"And you ain't about to waste another team on 'em. Are you?" Casino stopped pacing the office and turned to stare at the Colonel. He'd worked with them, he knew a little about them, but the safecracker figured they were all still just assets to him, 'things' that could be used to meet the goals the Allies set him.
"Casino, we are looking for them. A message was sent out as soon as you reported what happened and our contacts in the vicinity have been looking, but they haven't found any sign of them. All of the radio transmissions from that area are being monitored and reviewed. If any word of their capture comes through a team will be sent in."
"We gonna be part of it, then?" Goniff's arm still rested in a sling and he knew he didn't really stand a chance be being sent back to help.
Reynolds turned to face the man seated by his desk. "You know I can't promise you that. I'll do my best to see that your group is part of the rescue team, but it will depend on what we hear and how quickly we have to put a unit in the field to get to them."
Chief turned back and studied the grounds outside the window. "Warden said when we went in you didn't tell him about any help around there..."
"There wasn't any need." Reynolds' own frustration finally broke through his usual calm. "It was just a simple mission! Command didn't think there would be any reason to make contact in the area."
"Yeah, well, unless he knows it's somebody friendly trackin' 'em," The groups scout said quietly. "it ain't likely the Warden's gonna be easy to find."
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Garrison went into town just before dawn. That time of day just seemed to be more favorable to the lax security he needed. There was a small motor pool near the headquarters building and during his travels around the area he'd spotted an old staff car sitting in the back of the lot. It hadn't moved for two days. After he'd knocked the guard out he dribbled wine across his uniform and then carefully poured the rest of it down his throat before heading to the shop to pick up the tools he thought he might need. Folding the hood back he took a moment to survey the engine,,, it was as he expected they'd started scavenging it for parts. It didn't look like too much had been taken yet and as he headed to the supply shed to 'requisition' what he needed he mentally crossed his fingers that whatever else was wrong with it would be simple enough for him to fix. After he finished putting the last spark plug in place and looped the hot-wire in, the vehicle started on the second try. He pulled it forward to the fueling area and took a careful look around before he got out to pump gas into the large tank.
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There was a cleaners at the edge of the square. It was a little trickier getting what he wanted... They started their work day early and two or three were already moving around the back of the shop. Craig waited in the alley and watched. Just as people started to show themselves on the streets the workers took a break and strolled across to the caf� for their breakfast. He moved in the back door and sorted through the garments taking what they needed. There was a cobbler down the street, but the man worked alone, and was fool enough to set some of the boots he worked on out on the back step of his shop. Boots wouldn't be a problem.
Garrison stashed uniforms and boots in the carefully hidden car and headed back towards the square. He'd been trading and selling his cast offs in the area and had gathered a few coins together from his efforts and hoped it would be enough. He could hardly present himself in town as an officer with several days' growth of beard on his face. The barber in town accepted his coin, and a few of the apples from the cart for his payment and chatted amiably about the town and its people as he worked. Nice guy, Garrison thought, as he moved through the backdoor into the alley where he'd left his cart. Too bad he had to steal one of his razors on the way out, but Actor needed the same sartorial attention before he'd be able to show himself in public in uniform.
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As soon as he'd donned the uniform Garrison drove the car in and parked it in front of the caf� that sat on the town square. It was a busy place, used by officers and locals. He stepped to the door and took note of the tables sitting empty, but still loaded with dirty dishes. Raising his hand in mock greeting he walked past the waiter towards the back of the room, sliding the change and bills off the empty tables as he moved past, when he reached the back of the dinning area he turned to the left and walked straight out the door that opened onto the alley. Moving to the entrance to the alley he stalked back to the door of the caf�. Holding the pilfered bills in his hand he approached the counter and demanded to see the owner. When the man timidly approached him he complained loudly about being short changed. Opening his hand so the owner could see the small bills and change that lay there he insisted he'd given a much larger bill in payment for his meal and demanded the correct change. Within moments he was pocketing the money and heading back towards the car. There was another caf� on the far side of town, he might as well go over there and see if the same dodge would work on them.
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Garrison left the car off the road in the cover of trees. He'd repaired the small cart and reinforced it with wood he'd scrounged from the surrounding farms. Moving along the trail towards the cave they'd been using he took careful note of the incline along the pathway.
"Well, you ready to check out of this hotel?"
Actor heard the note of urgency and studied the Lieutenant with concern, "What's happened?'
Garrison was gathering supplies together at the entrance to their shelter "I think I picked up a tail." and tried to downplay the threat. "Just a couple of SS men, and it might only be a my imagination."
"What tipped them off?" Actor was already pulling the things that were within his reach into a pile. They'd worked together long enough not to discount these sometimes sudden 'uncomfortable' feelings when they came up, not when following them had kept them alive.
"I don't know! Maybe they remembered me as the junk man." He wasn't absolutely sure they were following him, relying only on the uncomfortable feeling of being trailed that started when he left the first caf�. Even if it was merely a case of nerves they couldn't risk it.
"Then as much as this place has grown on me I suggest we leave as quickly as we can." The con man unrolled the uniform Garrison tossed to him, and then caught the shaving kit. "Wouldn't it be safer to go out as civilians?"
Garrison shrugged and smiled. "Wouldn't match the car. Go on and get ready. I'll take this stuff down and be back for you."
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They used the cart to get Actor back down to the car. The SS Major's uniform was a good fit for the con man but the long boots gave him some trouble because of swelling in the injured leg. When he settled on the broad backseat of the car Garrison carefully lifted his leg up to rest on the seat and pulling a fine black cane out of the back laid it across the con man's lap.
Actor picked the stick up and studied the silver work of the handle. "This is a very expensive piece... old too. Where did you get it?"
"Someone left it leaning against one of the tables in a caf� in town." The younger man considered the little cart a moment before lifting it into the large trunk and slamming the lid down. "I figured since no one wanted it....."
"Which way are we going?" Actor settled back against the seat, still caressing the silver handgrip on the cane.
Garrison leaned forward and started the engine, "We have a better chance going north and east from here. If they do have their doubts about me heading further into their territory should be the last thing they'd expect. Besides a little time in one of the coastal resorts is just what the doctor ordered while you recover from your injury, Herr Major." As they pulled out onto the road he called over his shoulder. "Who knows, we might be able to steal a boat......."
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