by Dale Harsh
"You're sure he wasn't just wounded?"
"I'm sure. I wouldn't have left him if there'd been any chance."
"What about the rest of them? Did they get away?"
"Three of us made it back to England. There was an air strike in the town before we could get out. Actor was killed in that. I lost Goniff and Chief after we got back,,, they both died of injuries they suffered in the air raid."
He sat silently with them as they held each other. She'd turned into her husband's arms as soon as he'd confirmed that there was no chance their son was still alive, held prisoner, but alive, giving them some sort of hope of seeing him again when the war was finally over. As soon as he'd crushed that hope her tears started and she'd buried her face into her husband's chest and covered her ears, blocking out the sight and sound of him, the one who ordered her son into danger, the one who came back instead of him.
g
It had been the same with Goniff's mother in New York. He found the newsstand she operated and watched her through the day, following after she closed up and headed home. There were two of them in the small apartment, just two women who offered him tea and sat politely and grew old while he told them how their gift to the future had died from infection in the hospital in London seven days after they'd made it back from a mission that was classified as a success, but still left their Rodney in a grave outside London that they would never see. He had to tell it twice, Goniff's mother and Molly called a neighbor in to hear it all again so that they were sure they hadn't misunderstood him. The man wanted some kind of chance that there'd been a mistake, that it was some other boy who had died, his eyes pleading for a lie for the women. But he couldn't spin any kind of tale for them that would give them that hope, he could only give them the truth, and add the weight of their sorrow to his own.
There was no family to carry the news to for either Chief or Actor. He would bear the grief of their loss by himself. Actor at least was buried in Europe close to where he'd been born and raised but Chief would spend eternity in the green countryside of England far from the arid red rock cliffs of his homeland. He'd gotten permission to bury him in the graveyard near the mansion, the family that held the manor refused space on the grounds themselves, but the vicar at the local church had welcomed Chief, and Goniff. They buried them side by side. If there could be no family to watch over them at least they wouldn't be alone.
Sergeant Major Rawlins and a few of the guards attended but as soon as the service was over they shook his hand and loaded on trucks and headed off to their new assignments leaving him alone under the trees. It had only been a memorial service, the burials had been weeks before but he'd been unable to get there. The men that knew the boys from their trips into the Doves had held a wake then, but they'd never gotten to know him so when he entered the pub they'd left him alone while he drank his solitary salute to his men.
g
He could have left the notification of their deaths to the Army. They always sent a cable and then followed it up with a visit from a chaplain and Reynolds promised him that small tribute had been paid to Casino and Goniff. But it was something he owed them, a duty he wouldn't shirk off onto some stranger's shoulders. So he sat in the kitchen and watched as Casino's parents held each other and cried. It had taken nearly an hour for their energy to spend itself, leaving them quietly clinging to the comfort of each others arms, leaving him bowed down with guilt. When he moved to take his leave of them they both reached out for him.
"You'll stay here with us? You can use the guest room again."
The offer was made out of kindness and love, but he saw the revulsion lurking in her eyes. "No Ma'am, I'm afraid I can't. I have my orders and I've already asked them for an extension so that I could get to New York and then come out here to see you. They won't give me another one. I'm sorry."
"Can we take you? Is it somewhere close by?"
"No sir, I've been posted temporarily to Georgia. I don't know where they'll send me after that." And before they could offer to prolong the painful visit by taking him to the train he informed them, "The driver that brought me here waited, the car's still outside."
g
His things were neatly hung away in the closet and drawers of the space that he would call home until the Army decided what to do with him. He'd arrived exhausted from the trip and the emotional meetings he'd had with Goniff and Casino's families. The paperwork had been done in a daze and he'd received his orders without listening to them, without fully understanding them. He was too tired to eat and refused the offer of a guide to the dinning hall, he'd find that tomorrow, he'd told them, after he'd rested. And so they'd finally left him alone.
He sat at the table in the corner of the room and stared down into the glass. He'd been there long enough that the afternoon light had faded into dusk and then the room had gone dark as night fell. He didn't have the energy or enough interest in his surroundings to get up and turn on the lights. As the things around him faded away into darkness the memories started to play out for him again. Selecting his men from the meetings he'd held at the prisons,,, their training at the estate and their first missions together... and then the disaster of their last assignment.
ggg
It was a supposed to be a simple in and out job. They'd done it dozens of times, enough that the men joked it was their specialty. Drop in during a storm, get the information on film and get out. And from the beginning it looked like it was finally going to be that easy. They'd hit the drop zone just as the storm was breaking, made contact with the underground source that would take them to the target and Casino was standing at the safe not three hours after they'd buried their chutes.
"Say Warden, you oughta get Goniff in here. We're so far ahead a schedule I could let him try to break this one. He's been wantin' to learn..."
"Just get with it Casino. How much time?"
The door to the safe swung open and the man looked up with a smile as he stepped back. "Already done Lieutenant. Be my guest."
Garrison stepped to the safe, grabbed the documents that were bundled inside and moved back to the desk. The safecracker changed the bulb in the lamp and snapped it on as Garrison started sorting through the documents. Casino was across the room already taking up the listening post by the door that he'd just vacated. It was a listing of troop deployments in the coastal areas of France they needed this time and it only took seconds to find it. Flattening the papers out on the desktop he slid the small camera out of his pocket and used the cord to bring it up to the right distance from the document, pressing the shutter release he took the first shot and tried to advance the film. The lever was stiff, with a little effort it started to move, but only half way. Swearing softly he backed the film up, opened the small device and switched to the backup roll he carried. The damn thing wouldn't even advance the leader of film onto the sprocket.
Casino called across in a hoarse whisper. "Come on Warden, get with it. We got a chance a breakin' our own record here!"
"Not this time, Casino. Camera's busted."
"I knew it! I knew things were goin' too good. What d'we do now?"
"Now you shut up so I can memorize this stuff." The orders were to leave everything in place. The Germans weren't to know they had this information. And there was too much here to copy. He'd done it before, carried information in his head when there was no other way, he just needed a little time...
g
"You got it?"
"Yeah. I think so."
"Well you better �cause there's somebody in the hall."
They shoved the papers back in the safe and Garrison headed for the window with Casino on his tail, he was straddling the sill when the door opened. The safecracker turned and fired, killing the guard as he stood in the doorway. He whirled back to face his commander, they could hear shouts in the passage way outside the room and the sound of running feet as soldiers headed their direction. The Lieutenant saw the idea flash in his eyes, watched the split second calculations, but before he could stop him, tell him he was crazy, he'd acted. Casino's hands shot forward, grabbing the front of the jacket he wore with one hand, he reached in and snatched the camera from the inside pocket where the Warden had put it with the other, before shoving him off the sill out into the alley.
Garrison scrambled up off the ground and was in the window in time to see the door open again. Casino was half way back towards the wall that held the safe. The special bulb was still in the lamp, he still had the regular one in his pocket and now he had the camera. If he was caught it would look like a one man job. He was giving him time to get away. But the man in the doorway straddling the body of his fellow soldier had no intension of capture as he sprayed the room with bullets.
g
The sirens sounding a warning and his name being shouted from the entrance to the alley brought him out of his trance and he turned and ran. Goniff met him a few yards in from the street.
"Casino?"
"He didn't make it." And he grabbed the little burglar's arm as he started down the alley. Turning him roughly around Garrison pushed him on in front of him, back towards the street, towards the car where Actor and Chief waited.
Chief was in the street. As soon as he heard the shots he'd rolled out of the car and started back to help, to provide cover so they could get away. Actor moved into the driver's seat and had the car running, waiting to race the bombers out of the area to safety. But their time had run out. When the first bombs hit the street the car and his second in command disappeared. One second he was there and in the next all that was left was a smoking crater. The next one that landed blew the rest of them off their feet.
When Garrison struggled to his knees he saw Chief sprawled on his face and Goniff crawling across the road trying to reach him. He pushed up onto his feet and turned to scan the street. There was a truck nearby, if they had any luck left... He ran for it, the keys were in the ignition, he pushed the button on the dash and waited as the engine coughed to life. Pulling it away from the curb in a tight turn he screeched to a halt next to his men. Goniff was on his knees and held Chief cradled in his arms. Stumbling out of the cab Garrison reached down and grabbed the back of the jacket Chief wore in his hands, dragging him across the cobbles to the back of the truck he pulled him inside, shouting for Goniff to follow and take the wheel but the little man just sat staring after them.
"Goniff! We have to get out of here!" but the second story man didn't move. He just sat stunned in the street with his arms wrapped across his belly as he rocked back and forth.
Garrison slipped his jacket off and pillowed Chief's head with it. The Indian's skin was clammy, his face ashen and blood flowed freely from the wound in the back of his head. Staggering out of the truck he made his way back to Goniff and dropped into a crouch in front of the pick pocket, taking him by the shoulders he tried to shake him out of his shock and get him moving. As soon as he touched him the little man slumped forward onto the street. The sleeves of his coat were soaked with blood and as the Warden hooked him under the arm to haul him to his feet the coat pulled open. The front of his shirt was torn where the shrapnel hit him. His blood had mixed with Chief's as he held him in his arms. Garrison scooped him up and carried him to the truck, laying him in the back, next to the younger man.
g
He'd dodged falling bombs and German patrols to get them here. He'd pulled them into the safe house and taken the truck away and hidden it so it wouldn't give them away. He'd done what he could for them, but he knew it wasn't going to be enough. When he carefully tried to wash the wound on Chief's head the bone moved under his fingers and the dressing caught on the sharp edge of the fragment that projected from his torn scalp. Goniff had a seven inch gash in the middle of his belly. Lacerated bowel pushed out of the wound and covering it over with the clean linens he found in the house hid the gruesome sight from the injured man when he came to his senses, but it didn't cover the stench that promised infection, and it didn't do anything for the pain.
"Take it easy Goniff. Don't move around." Holding a moisten cloth to his lips Garrison let the little cockney ease his thirst a little. The fever'd already started but he couldn't give him anything to drink.
"Chiefy? How's he doing?"
"He's resting quietly, and you should be doing the same."
Goniff pulled his gaze away from the quiet form on the floor near him and fixed it on his leader's face. He'd held Chief's head in his hands, he knew. And he felt the burn in his belly and the pain that seemed to bore into his back and send tendrils all through him. He knew about that too. "You get the stuff Warden?"
Garrison bit down on the inside of his cheek and tasted his own blood. "Yeah, we got it."
"They tell you about that bombing raid?"
"No. They didn't tell me."
"Then it wasn't your fault Warden." Goniff saw the pain and anguish in the Lieutenant's eyes. He knew he'd take the burden onto his shoulders, take the blame for himself. He didn't need to. None a them would want him to, but, the cat burglar sighed to himself, he'd have to find that out on his own �cause he didn't have the strength to stay awake and tell him.
"Goniff? Goniff?!"
ggg
There was a sharp snap and light flooded the room around him. He felt hands under his arms and back and the odd weightlessness as they shifted him off the floor and on to the bed.
"Take it easy Captain."
It was hard to get used to hearing the new rank. They held the ceremony in the hospital. Before he'd even been in good enough shape to sit up they pinned the captain's bars on him, saluted and left. That was his payment for getting his men killed, a set of gold bars.
"Get away from me. Leave me alone." He shoved at the hands around him but they wouldn't go away. They never did.
"You can't keep doing this Captain Garrison. You have to remember to keep the lights on. And until we fit you with that leg you have to use the crutches." The nurse shook her head as she unpinned the folded trouser leg.
This one was the stubborn kind. Most of them she worked with felt sorry for themselves and had to be enticed back onto their feet. This was one of the ones that wouldn't admit that there was anything wrong, that thought that he was whole and strong. He got up every morning and struggled into his uniform and waited for the days orders. This was the hardest kind to deal with.
The wound in the stump was bleeding again. He must have come right down on it. That was going to set him back another two weeks at least.
"Ginny, get the tray. We're going to have to rewrap this. And Dr. Van Pelt left orders," she called after her coworker, "draw up that shot. Let's put this fine fellow to sleep for a while."
"No!" But the orderlies were there, and they were ready.
They pinned him to the bed and someone grabbed his arm and stretched it out while the nurse delivered the medication that would send him into a stupor. In his weakened state it didn't take long. Within seconds he was drifting and they took over...doing what they wanted with him, without his help, without his permission. They stripped out of his uniform and shoved his arms into one of the hospital gowns. Flipping him onto his face one of the orderlies knotted the garment in back before pulling him back over so he could breathe. Garrison's thoughts scrambled in his mind and he frowned as he tried to straighten them out, pin them down. They'd done this before and he'd gotten out of it...
"No you don't, Captain." She'd seen that look before and had worked long enough to know what it probably meant. "Get that posey jacket off the cart. We're not taking anymore chances with this one."
Until he came to his senses again they'd have to control him, keep him from doing himself any more harm. She watched the orderlies' force the patient's arms into the heavy cotton vest and helped support him when they pulled him up to fasten it across his back. She waited as they dropped down on either side of the bed and used the metal snaps to secure the straps down under the frame where they would be out of the Captain's reach. He strained forward and tried to sit up and when that failed he reached to the strap on his left and gave it a firm jerk, testing it.
"You see? You might as well just lay back and enjoy the accommodations."
It took her twenty minutes to get the dressing changed and back in the shape she wanted. It still hurt like hell when the pressure of the bandages came off but he lay still and silent through the ordeal, passive under her hands. Let her think that damn shot had done it's job.
She straightened from her work and pulled the blankets back up over her patient. It looked like he'd finally surrendered to the drugs and drifted off to sleep. At least they wouldn't have to post an orderly in his room tonight. Poor guy, she thought. If he could just turn some of that defiant energy into getting better... But it was too soon... He'd come around though. Most of them did in the end. She patted the sweat off his face with a towel and flipped the light on the bedside table off and left the room to attend to other duties on the ward. She'd talk to the doctor about getting Captain Garrison out of this private room tomorrow. He was spending too much time by himself. They'd pair him up with one of the other fellas that was a little further along in his recovery, someone who could get through to him.
g
The hinges in the door had a slight squeak and he heard the nurse's steps fade off down the hallway. Counting slowly to a hundred he waited and listened. By the time he chanced opening his eyes they were fully adapted to the darkened room...but it was never really dark here, just like it was never really quiet. There was always light from the hall seeping in around the door. It was enough to show him that he was alone in the room, they hadn�t posted a guard inside with him this time.
Reaching to the strap on his left he gave it a firm tug. He tried the one on his right. They were both attached securely somewhere under the bed, and the metal snaps grated on the frame making too much noise. He turned onto his side as he pulled against the strap where it attached to the jacket they'd trussed him up in. He strained against it and then brought his arm forward with a jerk. He tried it again and again, and after several minutes was rewarded by the soft sound of fabric tearing.
Several minutes more and he was sitting on the side of the bed. He couldn't get the jacket off, that was OK, he'd figured it out. He'd get under the bed and get the strap that tethered him to it unhooked and get away.
They were out there somewhere... and they were hurt. He had to get to them.
When he stood up he had to clutch the side of the bed to keep his balance. The drugs, he thought, they must have gotten to him after all. He waited until the room stopped pitching under foot. When he stepped away from the support of the bed the world lurched and he couldn't bring his hands up fast enough to stop his forehead from dashing against the floor as he fell.
He could feel the vibration of running feet heading his way, and the room filled with light again. He tried to shove back under the bed but he was stunned and slow and they grabbed him before he could get away...
ggg
"Blimey! Why'd they ever let him out a that hospital anyway?"
"'Cause they have too many guys there right now, and you said we wouldn't have any trouble takin' care of him out here."
"I said that?" Goniff stared down at Warden where he lay crumpled on the floor. He reached to help lift him but was waved off by Actor and Casino. Stepping back out of the way he rubbed at the bandage that was still taped across his belly and watched as they lifted the Lieutenant off the floor and laid him back out on the bed.
Actor checked the bandages that encircled Garrison's legs. The doctors had taken all the shrapnel out, but they'd left the wounds open to drain. They were already infected when they reached England and they couldn't close them with stitches, that might only serve to seal the infection off and let it build. The Lieutenant could lose his legs if that happened. The wounds had been carefully cleaned and tightly wrapped in hopes the flesh would knit together on it's own. It seemed to be working too. When they'd discharged him to come back to the mansion to make way for the influx of injured men from the Italian campaigns he was far from recovered, but he'd improved and was already making his way around on crutches... the con man shook his head,,, when he remembered to use them.
The Warden had fallen the first time two days ago when he heard Chief during the night. The concussion the young man suffered on the latest mission left him unsteady on his feet and when he rolled out of bed after a bad dream he'd lost his balance, shouting out as he twisted and grabbed the frame of the bed to keep himself from falling. They'd bundled the Indian back into bed just in time to see the Lieutenant collapse in the doorway to the room the men shared. He'd managed to come up the stairs from the room they'd fixed up for him down on the main floor without the support of the crutches. Actor figured he'd torn the wounds in his legs open during the climb and only fell when the pain caught up with him.
The fever came back after that, but by then the hospital was full to over flowing. They didn't have any choice now, they had to handle him here. Actor knew how to deal with the pills and the dressings and a doctor or nurse came out if he called. Garrison was actually getting better, but the fever left him weak and confused, and it got worse at night.
The con man turned and called over his shoulder. "Goniff, you'd best go and let Chief know everything is all right. He's been dizzy again today and if he tries himself on those stairs we may have more to do that just look after the Warden."
g
Casino was beat. Playin' nurse maid for three injured guys was takin it's toll. He didn't begrudge them the effort...they'd do the same for him, and had more than once when they were over on the continent on a mission. But even though he hadn't gotten hurt this time he started the gig with a big disadvantage. The group had gotten separated during a bombing raid. The Warden had to handle the other two on his own, hurt as he was, and make his way to the safe house. He and Actor had to find their way there after the Allies had finished trying to annihilate the town they were operating in. Damn military geniuses! Couldn't they leave a place alone until after they'd gotten out of it?
It had taken them over twenty-four hours of dodging German patrols to get through to the farmhouse, by then the others were in pretty rough shape and needed lookin' after. They'd missed their connection with the sub too, and had to wait another whole day to hook up again so he was either standin' guard outside, or takin' care a the guys inside. Once they got back across the channel he and Actor sat in with the Warden as he debriefed with Reynolds while the doctors worked on his legs, and then spent another restless forty-eight hours at the hospital until they heard everything was going to be OK with the guys. They got to take Chief back with them when they headed back to the mansion, and they got one decent nights sleep before Goniff had been sent back. A piece of one of the bombs, or a hunk of a building or the street had torn across the guys belly, slicing the muscle from one side to the other and the little Limey'd kept them hopping helpin' him when he needed it. And then the next day they'd kicked the Warden back to them.
"So who's sittin' up with him tonight?"
"I'll do it. You blokes need to get some sleep." Goniff stood leaning in the doorway, sweat beaded across his forehead and he was pale from the effort going up and down the stairs had taken.
Actor studied the little man a moment, looked over at the dark circles under the safecracker's eyes and then turned and watched as Garrison tossed restlessly on the bed. "No. I'll stay down here with him. And, Casino, if you'll get that kit the doctor left I think we all may be able to get some sleep."
The east coast thief stepped away into the hall and was back in less than a minute. "He said he didn't want none a this stuff, remember?"
"I know. But he's hardly in the position to refuse, and we all need the rest." The con man opened the leather case and took out the needle and attached it to the syringe. Twisting the cap off one of the bottles he tipped some alcohol on to a wad of cotton wool. Picking up the next small vial he wiped the top clean and slid the needle through the rubber stopper drawing up a measure of the medicine it contained. Motioning the others forward to help he settled himself on the side of the bed.
The gaze the Warden turned on him was wide and unfocused. "Actor?"
"That's right."
"Actor?"
Garrison's second took the hand that reached out towards him and straightened the arm out. Shoving the sleeve up he used the cotton to swab down the skin. "Casino, hold on to him from that side and try and keep him still. Goniff, can you take his hand and keep him from moving?"
"No!"
"Hold on to him now, don't let him move." Actor slid the needle home and delivered the drug. He wiped at the drop of blood and waited for their commander to relax.
"Actor?"
"That's right." Nodding the others away he turned to secure the bottles in their leather case. Casino stepped away to the door but Goniff was still there by the bed, standing in his way as he tried to get to his feet. "Goniff, it's all right now. Go on up to bed and let the Lieutenant get some sleep."
"Uh,,, I think he's got other ideas." The little man tipped his head down to where Garrison gripped him by the wrist, holding him where he was.
"Goniff?"
"That's right, mate. What can I do for ya?" Actor slipped away from the bed and Goniff sat down in his place, wincing at the pulling sensation under the bandage on his belly he placed his hand over it to ease it. Garrison's eyes followed the movement and remained locked on his hand.
"You got hurt."
"It's nothin' Warden."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? You didn't know nothin' about that bombing raid, did ya?"
"No. They didn't tell me."
"Then you got nothin' to be sorry over. It wasn't your fault Warden. �Sides, we all got out alright this time." Goniff shook his head, imagine the fella feeling sorry for somethin' he had nothin' to do with in the first place. He'd have to have a talk with him tomorrow when he wasn't so tired and his thinking wasn�t muddled by fever.
"Goniff? Goniff?!"
"Right here, mate, I ain't goin' no where." Actor motioned towards the cot in the other room and the second story man nodded his understanding. He'd sit up with him long enough for the medicine to take hold and put the Warden to sleep. For some reason or other it was him their leader needed close this time. Soon as he fell asleep he'd make his way back upstairs to his own rest, Actor'd be right there in case the man needed anything.
Gradually Garrison's grip on his wrist eased and he watched as his eyes drifted closed. The man's breathing deepened and evened out and the frown eased off his face. Finally his hand dropped away and released Goniff to go on his way.
g
"He stayed behind so we could get clear. So the rest of us could get away. The camera jammed, we couldn't get film of the documents we were sent after. So I studied them, memorized them. I have the better memory. He stayed behind and got killed so I could get the information out. If he'd been a regular soldier he would get a medal for that, but as it is..."
"You're sure he wasn't just wounded?"
The End
