by Pilot
The mission had gone off without a hitch until Garrison had gotten in the way of a Nazi gun and found himself with a bullet wound in the right leg. From the level of pain and the fact that he could not put any weight on the leg, he knew that it was very possible that the bullet had fractured the bone.
"Warden, you okay?" He looked up to see Goniff staring down at him. There was definite concern etched on the usually smiling face.
"I don't...know," he admitted with a grimace. The slightest movement sent shockwaves of pain lancing through the injured limb.
"We don't have time to find out right now," Actor had hurried to his side as well. With a quick motion, the big Italian recruited the little Englishman, and they lifted the Warden between them. Seconds later, with Chief and Casino laying down a covering fire, they made it from the German installation and into a running staff car. With Garrison between them on the back seat, the two cons joined in the exchange of fire as Casino steered the car away from the curb, the building, and the pursuing soldiers.
Once they had put enough distance between themselves and the enemy, Actor turned his attention to the injured Lieutenant. Garrison was white-faced, his eyes tightly shut against the pain. His pant leg was dyed with his own blood beyond the top of the German boot he wore. Gently the Italian pulled the wounded man around on the seat until his back rested against Goniff. The Warden tried very hard not to respond to the pain, but couldn't help a low groan as his injured leg was maneuvered onto the seat.
Goniff did his best to arrange himself so that the Lieutenant was supported, while still watching behind them for any sign of pursuit. "Y'okay, Warden?" the little blond asked once again. He placed a reassuring hand on the other man's shoulder.
"Yeah," Garrison managed to grate out through clenched teeth.
Actor continued his ministrations as gently as possible. It was going to be impossible to keep from hurting the other man though, he resigned himself to that distasteful fact. Borrowing Chief's switchblade, he carefully cut the pant leg away from the wound. Probing the area slowly, he carefully examined the man's injury. By the time he had finished, Garrison was nearly unconscious from shock and pain. It seemed to take hours, but in truth had been only a handful of minutes. Using up the meager medical supplies that Goniff carried, Actor did his best to clean and bind the wound. Sitting back, he announced to the other men, "The wound is bad and the bullet appears to have fractured the bone."
"Great," Casino yelled from the driver's seat, "whatta we do now?"
Before the other con could answer, the car made its own reply. It began to sputter and cough.
"Damn!" Casino cursed angrily.
"What's wrong, Pappy?" Chief asked.
"Of all the...we're outta gas!" came the reply.
"Bloody 'ell! Why'd ya boost a car without a full tank, Chiefy?" Goniff asked.
"It was full," came the answer in venomous tones.
"Look, we probably clipped the fuel line back there or something," Casino said, uncharacteristically de-escalating the rising tempers. "It don't matter one way or th' other now, anyway. Just be happy we didn't turn into a roman candle, babe."
With a final gasp, the car died. Casino managed to maneuver the vehicle off the side of the road and onto the edge of a shallow embankment. "Okay, everybody out," the safecracker ordered.
Carefully, they pulled Garrison from the car. He cried out more than once during the operation. The three cons lifted him and carried him a safe distance from the car. In the meantime, Casino slid from the driver's seat and did a quick inspection of the vehicle. Confirming his suspicions that it was more than simply an empty tank, he released the brake and jumped out of the way. The car rolled slowly forward over the side and into the ravine. Turning with a satisfied smile, he sprinted across the road to join the others. There his smile faded as he got a good look at the Lieutenant. Whistling under his breath, Casino whispered, "He ain't goin' nowhere like that."
Shooting the man a dark look, Actor said, "We will have to find other transportation, as well as medical help."
"Sure, no problem at all, " Goniff said sarcastically. "We'll just pop over to the corner store and ask for a car and a doctor."
"Goniff," Chief said evenly, "shut up."
"Hey mate, look -- "
"Alright, both of you!" Actor said sternly, "knock it off. The first thing we need to do is find somewhere safe to hide the Lieutenant. Chief?"
"Yeah," the youngest member of the group said sullenly. Securing a machine gun across his back by its strap, he disappeared into the trees near the road.
Turning back to the other men, Actor continued delivering orders. As usually happened when Garrison was not in the position to do so, the big con man stepped easily into the leadership role. And, as usually happened, the other accepted the change-of-command. "All right, Goniff, I need you to go find three or four branches that are roughly the same length and adequate to use as splints for the Lieutenant's leg."
"Right," the lithe cat burglar scuttled away.
"Casino, help me get him off the road."
"Yeah, okay," the East coast thief said. Together they managed to lift the unconscious man into their arms and carry him into the shadows beneath the thick trees. As they lowered him once again to the ground, Garrison cried out weakly.
"It's okay, Warden," Actor said quietly, "it's all right."
"Actor...leave...me here..." the wounded man muttered. There was more that he needed to say, but the words tumbled through his mind and refused to form on his lips. Garrison needed the men to go on, to leave him and continue on to the rendevous site. They needed to complete the mission by getting the information they had secured for the Allied forces back to England. Try as he might, though, he could not speak these things to his men.
"Casino, go to the car and check the boot...the trunk," he amended in answer to the man's questioning look. "See if you can find anything that we might be able to use, all right?"
With a quick nod, the smaller brunet vaulted up the hill and disappeared on the other side of the road.
Turning back, Actor saw that Garrison's eyes were opened once again. There was very little hazel evident; shock causing the black pupil to absorb most of it. He stared hard at the Italian, as if trying to remember who he was. "Ac-Actor..." he mumbled finally.
"Yes, Lieutenant. We have taken shelter off the road," he said as he tried to orient the man to the situation.
"Y-you...gotta...go..." the blond managed to insist through clenched teeth.
"You are not exactly in the position to give orders, Lieutenant. We will take care of things, all right?" Actor said lightly.
"No! Look...that in-infor...information...too...im...portant..." he slumped back into unconsciousness.
"Yes, well, so are you," the darker man said softly. Resting a hand on the injured man's head, he felt fever competing with the clamminess of shock for the man's body. They would need to get him to professional help soon if they expected him to live. Without Garrison, they all knew that their chances of parole would disappear. They would be returned to prison to serve their terms of punishment. But, beyond that, the four cons felt genuine affection for the West Point trained regular Army officer. Not that any of them would admit it, however.
A soft sound drew Actor's attention away from the unconscious man. Turning, he found Chief standing nearby, taking in the scene with his usual stoic grace.
"Did you find shelter?" the Italian asked.
"Mm-hm," he answered. "How's the Warden?"
Shaking his head, Actor said only, "Not good."
With a frustrated sigh, the Indian squatted down next to the other two men. "He's been bad before. He's tough." It was high praise from the Apache.
"I hope you are right, " Actor answered softly.
Just then the other two cons came to join them. Casino brought with him his finds from the Nazi car. From a second direction Goniff hurried up, his arms filled with tree limbs. Dropping them on the ground, he collapsed next to the Lieutenant. " 'Ow's 'e doin'?" he asked.
Simply shaking his head, Actor said, "We need to immobilize his leg so that we can get him to shelter. Then we can go in search of transportation and medical help. Let's get the Warden ready to travel, shall we?"
Handing Casino a second 'blade, Chief set to work on one of the branches Goniff had brought. The two men quickly cleaned four stout branches. While they were busy with that task, Goniff picked up a discarded weapon and found a vantage point nearby to act as look-out. Actor sorted through the things that Casino had found in the car while keeping an eye on Garrison. A heavy cord and a relatively clean blanket would serve them well.
As carefully as they could, the cons immobilized the Lieutenant's leg. Chief sat at the man's head, holding him quiet against the pain. Garrison's fingers buried themselves into the other man's arms as Actor and Casino manipulated his leg into the contraption they were rigging. After several long minutes they had immobilized the injured limb. Garrison had lost consciousness once again, laying limply in Chief's arms.
Sitting back on his heels, Actor surveyed their handiwork. "Okay, that's as good as it's going to get. Let's get him under shelter now."
Once again, Actor and Goniff lifted the Warden into their arms. Casino and Chief, more proficient with weapons, provided cover and protection. On point, the Indian led them forward toward the shelter he had located earlier. Pushing through the thick forest as quickly as possible, they soon reached the hiding place. It was a cave, set into the side of a steep hill. Although it was very small, it was dry and secluded. It would be easy for them to keep the Warden hidden and safe.
Carefully maneuvering the unconscious Lieutenant into the earthen shelter, they lowered him to the ground and covered him with the blanket Casino had found earlier.
"Chief," Actor said as they all stood outside the cave, "you stay here with the Warden, okay?"
"Me?" Chief said shortly. He glanced at the small opening and then back toward Actor. "Un-uh. I'm goin' with you. Goniff can stay here with th' Warden."
"No, now listen -- "
"Look! You ain't in charge, and you ain't runnin' my life!" The Apache's black eyes snapped. He was on the verge of panic and losing any vestige of control. The other men all knew that Chief had never been comfortable in small places. He had never been this adamant before, however.
Somewhat taken aback, Actor spoke quickly and quietly. "Chief, listen! If something happens to the rest of us, that information still needs to get back to the Allies. You stand the best chance of making it through this wilderness alone. And, if anyone should discover this hiding place, you are the best man for the job of protecting the Lieutenant." He paused, trying to read the other man's face. "All right?"
For some time, the Indian simply stared at the other man. Then with a loud sigh, he nodded shortly, "Yeah." He bent down and crawled into the small cave next to the unconscious blond. He watched with unguarded apprehension as the other three cons covered the opening with deadwood and fallen brush. The cave slowly slipped into near-total darkness.
"We will be back as quickly as we can," Actor's voice came to him, muffled by the thick branches.
"Yeah," was the single word reply.
~~~@@~~~
The others had been gone for less than an hour, but Chief felt that he had been trapped in the cave for half his life. He tried to keep his mind off the shrinking walls and the darkness, but to no avail. He kept one hand on the Warden's chest. The young man pretended to himself that it was to monitor the other man. But in truth, feeling the other man's heartbeat and rhythmic breathing was a comfort. He knew that he wasn't alone as long as he could hear and feel another living being.
A soft groan brought his attention away from his dark thoughts. "Warden?" He whispered softly.
"Chief?" The man's voice was raspy and pain-filled.
"Yeah."
"Where...?"
"We're in a cave. The others went to find a car and a doctor," he explained.
"Dammit! I...told Actor that...you all need to...to...go..." With a groan he went quiet again.
Chief touched a hand to the other man's face. "You got a fever," he said.
"I'm...okay..." Garrison insisted.
"Yeah," Chief said in a tone that told the other man that he knew he was lying.
Garrison hovered between wakefulness and darkness. For a long time he was aware of very little. He did know that Chief's hand remained resting against him. Even semi-conscious he could feel the tension emanating from the young man so strongly that it was almost a living entity. He wanted to question him about it, but could not find the strength to utter the words.
It was another hour before Chief's keen ears registered a suspicious noise. Soundlessly he retrieved his switchblade and released the blade. He felt Garrison move, and placed a hand across the man's mouth. Feeling a nod in answer to his silent warning, he removed his hand. Easing to the opening, he peered out between the branches. A short time later three figures moved into view. He recognized two of them and allowed himself to relax.
"'Ey, Chiefy," came a loudly whispered greeting from the gregarious Englishman.
With a smile, the Apache began pushing the branches and dead wood from the cave opening. The other two cons began pulling from the other side. Practically leaping from the cave, Chief took several long strides, getting away from the dark place. Actor and Goniff gently eased the Lieutenant from the hiding place. Bringing the wounded man out into the opening, they lowered him to the ground. The third figure that had accompanied them bent quickly over Garrison and began assessing his injuries.
The Italian con man noted Chief's tense posture and the slight tremble when he wiped the beads of sweat from his upper lip. Leaving Goniff to watch over the physician they had persuaded to accompany them, he moved to stand near the young man. "Chief, are you okay?" He asked in a whisper.
The darker man shot him an angry look, but only said, "Yeah," before moving away.
Actor continued watching him for a few more minutes, but did not press the matter. He stored the information in the back of his mind. He would talk to the Lieutenant about it later. Providing they were able to reach England.
By the time he returned to where the others were, the doctor had removed their makeshift splint and was probing the injury. With the help of the two other men, he quickly and expertly managed to remove the bullet, sew up the wound, and set the leg. Encasing the leg in a more efficient splint, he finished with a shot that would keep Garrison oblivious to the pain for several more hours.
"Doctor?" Actor said in French, the man's native tongue.
"He should recover. I will give him a second shot that should help him fight off infection. It would be best if he could remain still for a day or two but, considering the circumstances under which you enlisted my aid, I gather that this is not an option."
Not acknowledging the man's thinly veiled question, Actor said only, "We shall make good on our promise and allow you to return to your home."
"Good...very good..." The doctor said with a grateful smile.
They once again lifted the Warden into their arms and carried him back to the road. There they found Casino waiting with a second recently purloined automobile.
~~~@@~~~
The remainder of the trip passed uneventfully. They made their rendevous just in time. Garrison remained unconscious throughout the ride, only coming to when they were aboard the ship. By the time they reached England, they knew for certain that the Lieutenant would recover. He was busily trying to convince the ship's medical staff that he was well enough to get up.
~~~@@~~~
Lieutenant Craig Garrison, however, found that he convinced no one. Once back in England, he was transported to the hospital. There he remained for a week, until the doctors were satisfied with his recovery. The four cons, enjoying their extended R & R while the Warden mended, came to pick him up from the hospital. With Goniff fussing around him like a mother hen, they returned to the Estate that had been their home base since the beginning of their association. It had been the first time Garrison had seen his young scout. The man had made excuses every day for not coming to the hospital with the others. Garrison's concern for Chief had grown even more when Actor had told him of the affair at the cave. He knew that this was something he would have to investigate. Not only for the good of the young Apache, but for the entire unit.
Helping the man up the steps and into the house, the cons hustled Garrison into his first floor quarters. Actor quoted the doctor's orders verbatim, including the fact that the Lieutenant was to continue bed rest for another week.
"I feel fine, " Garrison protested.
"Good!" Actor responded jovially. "Then you can see how beneficial it is to follow orders."
"Look, I can rest just as well -- "
"Just as well in your own bed as you did in the hospital," the Italian interrupted. "I agree. Now, we will leave so that you can rest." Turning to the others, he motioned toward the door.
"Yeah, we'll check in on y' in a bit, Warden," Goniff protested.
"Sure...we'll bring y' your pipe and slippers...well, slipper...and the works, " Casino quipped. "Maybe get y' one a those smoking jackets. You can be a regular gentleman of leisure."
The Lieutenant took a swipe at the laughing safecracker with his crutch, nearly falling backwards in the process. A hand reached out to steady him. Turning, he found Chief at his side. Smiling his thanks, he said quietly, "Chief, stick around, huh?"
"You need your rest, " the young con hedged.
"I'll get it, " Garrison insisted, "just keep me company for awhile, okay?"
While Actor ushered the others from the room, Chief helped the blond into bed. He tugged and fussed at the blankets, avoiding the other man's face.
"Chief, sit down already," the Warden said with some annoyance.
Reluctantly pulling a chair near the bed, the young man sat down stiffly.
"Okay, out with it. What's going on?" Garrison asked quietly without further preamble.
Looking away, the other man mumbled, "Ain't nothin' goin' on."
"Un-uh, not good enough. Look, we all know that you've got a problem with small spaces. But you've never gotten so..." He paused, searching for a word that would not offend the proud man. Finally he settled on "...bothered before. What happened back there at the cave?"
Chief simply stared at him for several long seconds, but finally he spoke. "Like you said, I gotta problem with small spaces. Have most'a my life. That's all."
"Still, not good enough," Garrison repeated. "There was something else happening . I really want to know no -- I need to know -- the whole story."
"Look, it's personal Warden. Sorry, but it ain't none a your business."
"I'm making it my business. That reaction could surface again on another mission. It could cause a real problem. I need to know what's going on." Although his tone did not waver, it was clear that the request was now an order.
Chief slumped back in the chair, rubbing a hand across his eyes. For several moments his emotions fought a war on his face. Anger, embarrassment, pain; each flashed across his handsome features. Garrison simply lay back on his pillows, watching the young man. Although he felt guilt and some embarrassment of his own for forcing Chief to talk, he allowed none of it to reach his face.
"I don't know what made this time so much different," Chief finally said, "and that's the honest truth."
"Then let's try to figure it out," the Warden said, "talking could help at any rate."
"Lieutenant, you're s'posed to be restin', " the Apache continued to resist.
"Talking isn't going to put a strain on my leg, now quit stalling." Garrison grumbled. Pausing, he said with a sympathetic smile, "Look, Chief, what you say won't leave this room, I promise. Will you trust me?"
It was a foolish question as far as the young man was concerned. He trusted and respected his commanding officer more than he ever would have thought possible. But then Garrison had earned that devotion. Time and again he had proven his own devotion to his men. He had put his career as well as his life at risk for the them all. To Chief in particular this was something that no man had ever come close to doing before.
"Yeah...I trust you," he said finally.
"Then talk to me," Garrison said quietly.
Trying to decide where to start, Chief surprised himself by suddenly beginning. "I...I've been having these dreams. Nightmares. Ever since we came back. It ain't the made-up kind of stuff you have like when y' have a fever or somethin'. This is more like memories."
"Memories of what?"
"When I was a kid," the young man said reluctantly. Suddenly unable to sit still, he vaulted to his feet and began pacing the room. His hands clinched and relaxed over and over as he walked. He made numerous trips from the room's window to its door before he managed to slow his pace and calm himself. Finally he slumped back onto the chair. Still avoiding the Lieutenant's eyes, he began to speak. Once it began, his story unfolded quickly, full of pain and rage.
"It started a long time ago, when I was a kid. My old man...well he wasn't...he didn't...couldn't..." Chief stumbled for the right words. Finally he spat out, "He was a lousy father.
"He drank...he drank a lot. When he got drunk...he got mad about anything. When he was mad...well, he usually took it out on one of us. By the time I was seven or eight he used me for a punchin' bag a few times a week...even more than the other kids. I think it was 'cause I didn't back down whenever he...went on the warpath," he favored the Lieutenant with an ironic smile.
"You...stubborn?" Garrison said while returning the smile, "I just can't imagine it."
An uncommon blush covered the Indian's face. Then he sobered and continued his story. "When he didn't feel like beltin' me around, he found...other ways...ways 'a punishin' me. His favorite was to lock me up...down in this old root cellar. It was empty, we never had enough in the house to use it...at least not for what it was meant for," he paused, staring out the window for some time.
Garrison watched him grapple with the emotions that those memories brought him. He tried to imagine what it would have been like to grow up in such a way. While his own childhood had been regimented and fragmented as the son of a career soldier, there had never been any such abuse in his childhood.
"The root cellar..." Chief picked up his tale, "didn't have no windows, and the door was through th' floor of the kitchen...over in the corner. I remember that it took me ten steps to walk from one wall to th' other back then. Ten steps, turn...ten steps, turn...ten steps, turn... ten steps...and back at th' beginning...
"He'd put me down there for a few hours...a day...it depended on how drunk he was and how angry he got. Then there was this one time..." His voice broke with emotion and he took several deep breaths before continuing.
"One time...he just went crazy...after he wailed on me for a while with his belt...he tossed me down there and slammed the door. I can...I can still hear...I can hear him drag this big trunk...over th' door.
"He kept drinkin'...drinkin' and beatin' on my Ma and th' other kids for...I didn't know til later...it was three days."
"Damn," Garrison muttered. The living nightmare survived by the child who had grown up to become their scout and point man suddenly became more real than he ever expected.
Barely registering the man's comment, Chief continued. "All I could do was sit down there and listen...to the screamin'...the cryin'...even worse was the quiet."
"The quiet?" the Warden asked.
Nodding, Chief explained, "When there wasn't no noise up there, I got scared...scared that they were all dead or somethin'...I...I remember thinkin'...what if no one ever comes for me?"
"It had to have been hell," Garrison said in what he hoped was a calm tone.
"Mmmm," the brunet muttered. "I musta walked a hundred miles around that room. I'd walk til I couldn't move another step. Then I'd just fall where I was and sleep for a little while. Then...I'd wake up and start again. Ten...ten...ten...ten..."
Something suddenly came to Garrison's mind. "Describe the root cellar itself, Chief," he asked.
With a shrug, he said, "it was a cellar. Dirt floor...dirt walls...wood over head...why?"
"Finish your story," the Lieutenant said with a wave of his hand.
"Ain't much else to tell," Chief said. "The old man finally passed out and th' others let me out...like they always did. Like me, Ma and the others were pretty bruised up, but nothin' too bad. She fixed us somthin' t' eat. I ate and went to bed...slept for almost a whole day. When I woke up, the old man didn't even remember what had happened."
"My god, three days..." Garrison said sympathetically.
Trying to shrug it off, Chief's control wavered. A single tear rolled down his dark face. Once again he walked to the window. This time he leaned against the glass. Garrison watched the broad shoulders tense and quiver as he allowed some vent to the emotions he had hidden for so long. A heavy sigh signaled that he was drawing those emotions back inside. Garrison knew that he would have to push him to find a way to deal with them so that he could begin to heal the pain.
Furiously scrubbing his hand across his face, Chief came back to the chair. Falling onto the seat exhausted, he kept his face turned away from the other man.
"Chief," Garrison paused, waiting for an acknowledgment. Not receiving one, he continued on anyway. "I don't remember much about what happened after I was iinjured...but I know we were in a shallow cave," he was weaving his own memories with the things that Actor had told him later. "I remember you next to me, I could tell how tense you were. You were upset...ready to bolt. I know that you got out of that cave as fast as you could. You hardly said a word the rest of the way home."
Chief sat stiffly upright in the chair once more. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair; his knuckles were blanched white. He glanced over at the Lieutenant, a look of raw pain evident in his dark eyes.
Hating himself for what he was doing, Garrison took a deep breath and prompted, "Son...think about it. The cave...earth and wood. The cellar -- "
"Earth and wood, " the Indian said tonelessly.
"Exactly," the Lieutenant agreed.
"Earth...wood..." the words began to come more forcefully. Chief was rigid, anger flushing his dark face even darker. "Just...just like...just like before..." he stumbled over the words.
"I'm no expert, Chief, but it would seem like the similarities and the memories of what happened so long ago might have had something to do with your reaction."
"The bastard!" the young man growled, spitting out the words, "He still won't leave me be! Even now...he makes my life hell!"
He raged on for several minutes, oblivious to his audience of one. Garrison allowed him to express his anger, quietly lending only his support by being a witness to the revelation. Finally the storm had passed. Chief sat back in the chair, staring blindly into his past.
"It was a long time ago...it's over now," the blond spoke the words just loud enough to reach the other man. "Your father can't hurt you anymore, Chief. You have to find a way of believing that."
For long moments there was nothing. No response. Chief sat motionless. Fists clinched. Breathing rapidly. Then a single, guttural cry ripped from the center of his being. The sound echoed across the room, threatening to shatter the vessel of its origin.
Catching a motion in his peripheral vision, Garrison turned toward the door. Actor, his brow furrowed with worry, peered inside. With a single shake of his head, the Lieutenant conveyed to the other man that he was in no danger. The door closed again, silently.
This time Chief did not bother to hide away from the Lieutenant. His shoulders shook violently in concert with the sobs that tore from his soul. After a moment Garrison pushed himself from the bed and hobbled the few steps to where the other man sat. Knowing the Apache's disdain for human touch, he moved slowly. Only when he felt no resistance did he reach out. Pulling the young man toward him, he allowed simple human touch to fill the spaces that words could not.
Chief's hand tentatively grasped his own, and Garrison returned the action.
Time advanced unnoticed. Only the growing pain in the Lieutenant's injured leg marked its passage. Finally, its intensity caused him to shift his weight with a slight groan. The man beside him startled and pulled away from his grasp. Levering himself from the chair, Chief guided the Warden back to the bed.
"Your s'posed t' be restin'." he mumbled with some embarrassment.
"I'm fine, Chief, " Garrison said softly. "But you-- "
"I'm okay," he answered quickly. Too quickly. The lie was easy to hear in his voice. He busied himself tucking his commander into bed, once again avoiding the other's face.
"Chief," Garrison whispered.
"Uh...look...your s'posed t' rest, " he repeated nervously. "I'm gonna go -- "
"Not necessary."
"Yeah...yeah...it is..." he drawled. "You ain't gonna rest otherwise. I'll...uh...I'll check in on y' later..."
"Alright, " Garrison said in defeat.
Although his steps were deliberate and unhurried, Chief still bolted from the room.
~~~@@~~~
For several days, the young Indian's absence was keenly felt by the army officer. He relied only on Actor's reports of the man's activities. Chief disappeared from the house each day right after breakfast. He took only a canteen and his knife, disappearing into the woods behind the estate. Each night he would return for dinner, eating sullenly at a distance from the other men. After dinner, he escaped up the stairs to his quarters, avoiding the usual camaraderie that the four cons often shared.
Finally, well enough to leave his suite, Garrison swung into the dining room on his crutches. The cook was just bringing breakfast to the men.
" 'Ey, Warden!" Goniff chirped. "Yer finally back with us!"
"Yeah," the Lieutenant said with a smile.
"Sure, " Casino grinned," he musta' missed our company. I mean, who wouldn't?"
"Besides most of the free world?" Actor joined in the banter.
While the other three cons continued, Garrison watched Chief. The young man sat at the far end of the table. He seemed focused only on his breakfast. Shoveling the food into his mouth as quicky as possible, he finished almost before the others had begun. It was only then that his eyes locked with the Lieutenant's. Pain was still raw in those black eyes. But somewhere in the depths, his strength was returning.
Pushing away from the table, he favored Garrison with a quicksilver smile and an almost imperceptible nod. Then, as he moved past the Warden's chair, he surreptitiously squeezed the man's shoulder quickly. As Chief hurried from the room, Garrison glanced over at Actor. The con man met his look. Smiling, he nodded before returning to the congenial conversation with the other two men.
Leaning back in his chair, Garrison sighed. It would take more time, but it looked as if Chief was working through his pain. The Lieutenant knew he would have to remain patient. But he would be waiting. When Chief emerged on the other side of that pain, he would be there. Not as his commanding officer. Not as the Warden. But as his friend.
The End
