part 2
"What do you think was missing over there?"
"A network of contacts. It's not enough for us to get in and get the information you want." Garrison ran a hand through his hair and sat rubbing the back of his neck a moment before he continued. "If we can't get out it doesn't do you any good."
"We have contact with resistance leaders in the area."
"Nothing organized. And from what I can tell most of them don't know each other, so we're still on our own if we need to move across country. Forget about bringing people out without an established series of safe houses and escape routes." Garrison knew that would be part of this project eventually. They'd gotten in and observed, memorized documents they'd managed to get their hands on, even taken pictures of a few with the new cameras they'd been issued. They'd brought the information out, a lot of it over the last seven months, but now that America and Germany were finally, officially, at war there was a mad scramble to get the people who'd left it too late out of Europe before the Germans laid hands on them. And for some reason, known only to the American and British brass, they hadn't been allowed to spend enough time on the ground in Europe setting up escape routes, establishing codes and cross contacts with the locals. That's why Collin was dead, because they didn't have a secondary route of escape.
"Sounds like you've just found your next assignment, Lieutenant... if you want it?" Catron watched as Garrison mastered his anger, and wondered if he'd voice it. It wouldn't do any good to feed the kid the official line about not wanting to leave anyone over there long enough to get themselves picked up and executed as a spy... He was too intelligent to believe that one. They had men in place, some of them had been in Germany for years, patiently working their way into positions of authority and trust. No, they might have spent three years training these men for their assignments, but that was nothing compared to the time and effort that had gone into those ghosts.... That's why these kids were expendable, to keep the heat off the others they'd never know anything about.
"Yes, sir. I want it. And with your permission I'd like to get started right away."
"Don't you think you need to take a little time before you go back over there, son. You're going to be gone a long time on this one."
"Sir, we don't have any more of that time, you're trying to hand me, to waste." Garrison got up and started towards the door. He had his assignment, he'd leave with or without permission, he had his own way across the channel and Colonel Catron knew it.
"Who're you taking over with you?" Catron called out as Garrison's hand grasped the door knob and turned it.
The Lieutenant never broke stride. "No one! I'm working alone from now on."
ggg
Three months later the system worked, at least good enough for his new orders to reach him. He certainly hadn't been the only one working. The brass had finally turned the rest of them loose and they'd crossed paths as they worked, weaving their safety and information net together. Catron's estimate had been accurate, of the fifteen that shipped over only four of them were left. He worked with the others briefly, usually only a matter of days, but held to his determination to remain alone on the ground in Europe. Jamieson had turned to cover him when they'd gotten caught, Craig had the better memory, he was carrying the information they'd been sent for. Collin had taken a bullet so he could get away to complete the mission, he'd never forget that, and he'd never allow anyone else to make that sacrifice for him again.
Garrison didn't know what the Army had planned for him next. All he knew was that he was exhausted, and he'd been ordered back to England. He was ready. The people he'd met and worked with in France and Germany were already expanding the network, making their own contacts, it was a living breathing entity now, no one could stop it. He'd be glad to deliver this particular report to Colonel Catron.
g
"I'm sorry Lieutenant, didn't you know? Colonel Catron was killed in one of the bombing raids on London. He's been dead for two months now. You'll be reporting to Major Manners from now on."
ggg
The general had been at it all day. Going over efficiency reports was not his favorite duty, but since his heart attack they'd assigned gathering information on the joint operation to him. It was either that, or retirement, and he knew he wouldn't be able to sit in the sun and drink tea while the world went up in smoke. He took what they offered him and did his best not to envy the others who would play a more active part in the war that his country was finally embroiled in. A disturbance in the passageway outside provided him with an excellent excuse to take a break from the boring task of paper pushing. He shoved his chair back and made his way across the office and opened the door.
"Hut-tenshun!"
There was a gathering of three men in the hall. Jackman looked down at a British lieutenant who was sprawled on his backsides on the floor just six feet from where he stood. The man was gingerly massaging his jaw and staring at another young lieutenant who stood over him. The faded bruises on the young American's face gave evidence that this wasn't the first fight he'd been in this week, and while not overtly threatening, the man on his feet certainly appeared ready to counter any move from his opponent... 'Victim,' Jackman amended the thought, and smiled to himself. This was totally out of order and against regulations, but it was certainly more interesting than the dry reports that had taken up his time since he'd arrived in England three weeks ago.
The lieutenant on the ground scrambled to his feet and the whole sorry group stood eyes forward, ramrod straight and perfectly silent.
"Any one of you gentleman want to tell me just what's going on here?" Jackman asked pleasantly.
"Lieutenant Garrison just tried to take my head off, sir." the 'injured party' volunteered immediately.
'Garrison?' the general thought, 'why does that name sound so familiar?' "Garrison, care to tell me why you'd want to do something like that?"
"No, sir."
Jackman raised his eyebrows and looked at the young officer standing at attention in front of him. "You know you could be brought up on charges for this?"
"Yes, sir."
"Would you take the same action, given another opportunity?"
There was a slight delay as the young man considered his answer. "Yes, sir. I would."
By this time two MP's arrived, summoned by the staff sergeant in charge of keeping order. "All right." Jackman sighed and shook his head, at least the kid was honest. "Take him away."
The young man made a crisp salute, a perfect about face, and flanked by the two MP's started away down the corridor. Jackman turned on his heel to return to his reports when it dawned on him and he made the connection. He swung back just in time to see the prisoner fall flat on his face in the hall.
"Stand back!" The MP's gave way as the general dropped down next to the young man on the floor. He felt the irregular padding as he laid his hand on the Lieutenant's back. Pulling the tail of the shirt free and shoving it up out of the way Jackman revealed the bandages, soiled now from being in place several days. "Good Gawd! Get this man to the infirmary. What's the meaning of this?" Jackman stared up at the men who were gathered around him. "Why was this man here instead of with the doctors?"
"Sir! I had no idea, sir." Captain Klinner stammered.
Fixing the lieutenant who had so recently been seated on the floor with an icy gaze the general demanded. "And what were you doing right before he laid you on your backsides?"
"We'd just completed the debriefing, sir." Byrns answered.
"I didn't ask you that Lieutenant. I assume that sort of thing takes place behind closed doors, not out in the hallway!"
"Yes, sir."
Jackman's attention was broken by the sound of men moving towards them with a litter. He pushed back up to his feet and drew the others out of the way with a wave of his hand. "You two'd best come along with me. I think I need to hear the full story."
ggg
"You did what?!" Jackman thought he might just need to have this whole thing explained to him more than once.
Klinner took a deep breath and answered. "We arranged to have Lieutenant Garrison carry information into Germany...."
"That you wanted the German's to take from him..." the general supplied.
"Yes, sir."
"But you didn't bother to tell him that?"
"Well, no sir. It was decided they would swallow the bait if..."
"...they had to beat it out of someone?!" Jackman got up and started pacing the office, reaching the window he stared out across the compound for a moment before turning back to gaze at the three officers he had standing at attention in front of his desk. Manners, the section head had been added to the assembly. "And just what did you say to him in the hallway that set him off?"
"Sir," Lieutenant Byrns swallowed hard before he continued. "I just reiterated Captain Klimmer's comment that if he had done as we expected we wouldn't have to mount this next operation...." He could only hold the general's gaze a moment before he dropped his eyes to study the floor at his feet. "...sir."
Jackman leaned back against the window sill pulled on an earlobe and shook his head in amazement. "So you mean to tell me that you sent that kid over there hoping that he'd break and spill his guts to the German's, and then you reprimanded him when he didn't?!" He took a deep breath before he continued, "Son, you're lucky all he did was knock you down, because I would've killed you." Turning on Major Manners he asked. "Why'd you pick Garrison for this little comedy of yours."
"Well, sir, he..."
"I know, I know," Jackman said, shaking his head in disgust and waving the other man silent. "I've heard it before. He's nobody, and he's not connected to anyone important, so it would be a more 'acceptable' loss." The general studied the men a moment before returning to settle himself in the chair behind the desk. "Gentlemen, if that's still how it works, then you consider Lieutenant Garrison is connected,,, to me!"
"Yessir!" the three men chorused.
"Major, I want the book on Garrison," he tapped his finger on the desk in from of him. "Right here, right now."
"Yes, sir."
"And call over to the medical unit and have those MP's stand down." When Lieutenant Byrns showed further bad judgment by opening his mouth to object he cut him off. "Lieutenant I'd like to give you a little something to think about."
"Yes, sir?"
"That soldier you challenged in the hallway this morning knows about twenty different ways to kill a man with those hands. So if you only ended up with a sore jaw, and a little bruised dignity, you should count yourself extremely lucky."
Byrns was an administrative aid, a desk jockey. If he'd ever known anything about combat or field work, or the men who did it, he'd forgotten it as soon as he sat down and got comfortable behind his typewriter. By the way the color left his face Jackman knew he hadn't really considered that before he'd made his comment to Garrison. "Yes, sir."
"Manners, see to those MP's"
"Yes, sir. I'll take care of it at once, sir." Manners turned and started shepherding the other two out the door.
"And Major, one more thing."
"Sir?"
"I'm going over there later, and if that young man has not been given the very best care available, I'm going to break you, and everyone on your staff." Jackman said quietly.
"Yes, sir."
ggg
"Tell me what really happened." The general had already heard the bare bones of 'I lost my temper and took a swing at Lieutenant Bryns,,, sir.' Knowing a little bit more about the circumstances surrounding the altercation he wanted the young man's version of the whole affair. He waited, and watched the stubbornness settle firmly on Garrison's face. "Lieutenant, that was an order. Consider this a continuation of your debriefing."
"Sir, I can see your rank but..."
"Go on, you have my permission to speak freely."
"Thank you, sir. I can see your rank, but I don't know who in the hell you are, what section you belong to, or what your security clearance is,,, sir."
The general smiled to himself, "In other words, 'request denied'?"
"Yes, sir."
Jackman leaned back in his chair tugged on his earlobe and considered the young man in the bed a moment before he got up and walked over to the door. Pulling it open he called down the hallway. "Would you have Major Manners come over from the admin building, please." Returning to the chair the general settled in to watch the young man while they waited. He met the hazel eyes and fought a silent duel for a time, finally giving way by looking at his watch... the kid had guts, he'd give him that.
Upon arrival Garrison's section head quickly explained who Jackman was, and gave his exasperated permission for the young Lieutenant to deliver any information required of him before being 'invited' to leave by the general. Jackman was amused and pleased to see a recitation of his rank and credentials didn't seem to impress the young man much.
"So, Lieutenant, can you tell me what happened?
"Yes, sir. Someone hung me out to dry."
gggggggggggg
The discussion that followed was heated at times and Jackman found that he enjoyed every minute of it. It was sad to say but after you reached a certain rank in this man's Army people were afraid to tell you what they thought when things went wrong before they had a firm take on your own opinion.... The young officer leaning forward on the bed making his case so persuasively hadn't seemed to have learned that yet. He'd told his general just what went wrong and just what he thought about it. And taking Jackman's 'you may speak freely' literally, he told the general in accurate anatomical detail just what those individuals involved might do with themselves. Jackman turned away to hide a smile and bought himself some time by pouring a glass of water.
Garrison relaxed back on the bed a moment before he continued. "That scam would have worked if I'd gone in prepared."
"What do you mean?"
"That if Captain Klinner had just told me ahead of time, I could've come up with a story the German's would've believed, and they would have swallowed the dis-information he was so eager to feed them"
"He probably didn't think anyone could carry that off." The general took a sip from his glass and studied the young man in front of him. "I don't think I believe it either."
"Then let me go back and I'll prove it to you."
Jackman leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his jaw on his fist. "When would you want to do it?"
"As soon as I can get back over there." Garrison winced as he leaned back in the bed. He'd been beaten by hand so he was bruised and sore around the midsection and ribs. And the interrogator favored the strap, doubled over so it made a lot of noise, and had used it freely across his back and shoulders. The man had been an arrogant bastard who enjoyed his work. That had been his undoing. He thought he'd beaten his prisoner down. He thought he was good enough that he didn't need a guard after he'd 'conditioned' him. When one of his blows knocked Garrison off his feet, he made the fatal mistake of reaching down to haul him up again. 'Thank you Sergeant Holke' Craig thought to himself.
"In your condition? I hardly think the doctors would clear you for something like that."
"Sir, I'm fine. My injuries aren't that bad. And they'd give me a damn good reason for getting recaptured."
"Are you really willing to let yourself be taken and interrogated again, Lieutenant?"
"If it'll meet our objectives, yes, sir." There was a glint in the young officer's eye as he continued. "Just don't expect me to accept their 'hospitality' too long, sir, because you will be disappointed."
The young man in front of him looked like the only place he needed to be for the next two weeks was right where he was. Jackman didn't see how he'd be able to pull off what he was suggesting, but he had a growing feeling that he was going to do it with or without permission. The general gave a fleeting thought to having the MP's back to keep Garrison in his room. Another look at the determined set of eyes gazing back at him and he gave up on that idea. "Are you so sure you'll be able to get away from them?"
"General, I did before.... And this time I'll have help."
The doctors hadn't agreed with Lieutenant Garrison's assessment of his condition and abilities when Jackman asked that he be released to return to light duty in the section, and informed them both that he would be staying until they thought him fit for duty and released him.
The young man considered the door that had just closed on the doctor a moment before turning to General Jackman. "Sir, do I have your permission to handle this in my own way?"
g
The cry that went up when Garrison was found missing from his hospital bed later in the day made the grumbling about him after he struck Lieutenant Bryns seem cordial and supportive in comparison. Jackman held his tongue and did his best to go along with the advice the Lieutenant had given him when he dropped the clothes the young man requested he retrieve for him from his locker on his bed. 'Just go along with it, sir. Whatever happens. It'll keep you out of trouble.' But he thought to himself that the kid might just as well stay over there if he couldn't pull this off. The most widely held explanation among the officers with the clearance to know his background for what had happened to him was that he'd bolted for his family home in Germany. One man suggested that if Garrison hadn't turned coat and taken up with the other side, at least if the Germans caught him they'd save the Army the trouble of a court marshal.
g
The hardest part had been getting his back not to look like it had just been taken care of by a hospital full of doctors. Garrison and Claude used an old sheet they'd found for bandages. Blown off the line on some forgotten wash day it had spent its recent life hiding under the bushes that had grown up around the abandoned farmhouse they were using and was suitably soiled and tattered. Craig spent as much time as he could down in the stream letting the water run over the crusted wounds to soften them, then after Claude helped him 'suit up' he'd taken a few somersaulting rolls down the hill behind the house to freshen everything up and get a little bleeding started. By the next morning he looked, and felt, like he'd been on the run for two or three days.
They made their way back to the edge of town where he'd been taken before and waited until he spotted one of the guards who'd been involved in his original capture. As Claude faded back into the alley he moved forward to stand at the corner of the building. "Come on, you bastard. Look over here." Just as the whispered request left his lips the guard turned his gaze towards the alley and before he could get a good look at him Garrison made his move. Staggering back he pulled the metal trash bin he'd been leaning against over with a clatter. That ought to do it, he thought, and waited for the expect response of raised rifles and a shout for him to stand where he was. He cringed against the building and put his hands up and tried to look as tired and hunted as he could. He didn't have to fake the shakes and the Germans could interpret them however they wished, it was damn cold under all the wet clothes and bandages.
The German sergeant recognized him. And judging by his rough handling of him he hadn't been amused by what had happened to the officer his prisoner had last been seen with. Craig leaned into the furthest corner of the truck and thought he could've skipped those sacrificial rolls down that hill. The man had done a fine job of opening everything up, and he even added a split lip and a blackening eye of his own. If they didn't get where they were going soon he wasn't going to be in any shape to pull this off. The truck rattled to a stop just as the sergeant's fists had had enough rest and he'd gotten to his feet again. Again the look on his face told Garrison he hadn't been satisfied with his level of punishment yet but he wasn't quite prepared for the stinging backhand the man delivered as he grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked him forward to manhandle him off the truck.
The niceties had been skipped and he'd been taken straight to an interrogation room. The Germans already thought they knew who they were dealing with and the Major that stood in front of him was eager to get down to business.
"I know you speak German, but I refuse to sully my countries language by using it with a spy. You will condemn yourself in your own mongrel tongue." Then he'd stepped back and for the next thirty minutes he let the sergeant continue what he'd started in the truck while he lounged against the wall and smoked.
Pushing off the wall the officer waved the sergeant back and considered his prisoner a moment. "Now that you have experienced a little of Sergeant Reischal's brand of questioning would you care respond to mine?" When his request was met with silence he shrugged and returned to his wall. "You are making a grave error my friend, I assure you. Reischal, Fahren Sie fort."
By the end of the day Garrison was battered and exhausted. He'd let them loosen his tongue enough to give up his name, rank and serial number, over and over and over again. By the end of the evening all Reischal had to do was raise his hand to start him reciting. The Major had finally grown bored and had him thrown in a darkened cell to 'consider his options until tomorrow.' Craig huddled in the corner on the floor and tried to get a little rest. Tomorrow would probably come pretty early.
'Tomorrow' began in the dark hours before dawn. Three guards came for him and marched him back to the interrogation room where the Major waited. The chair he'd been strapped to the previous day was gone, instead they hustled him over to the wall and slipped the handcuffs he'd worn since he'd been captured over a hook that projected well over his head. The Major sat his coffee down on the table that rested in the corner of the room and strolled over, grabbing a handful of his hair he jerked his head back so he could stare him in the eye. "Have you decided to speak to me yet?" When Garrison let silence answer for him the Major pushed his head forward with enough force to stun him when it hit the wall in front of him. "I thought not." The man said in disgust. "I shall return after I have had my breakfast and see if you have changed your mind." Slamming the door as he moved through into the hall the Major left him to consider his situation. The hook was high enough he had to stretch up onto his toes to keep pressure off the raw skin that encircled his wrists. Altogether not a very comfortable position.
Breakfast must have been a leisurely affair on this post, he thought, they left him on his hook for two hours. At the sound of footsteps and murmured conversation outside the door he sagged and they found him hanging from the cuffs when the door opened on him again.
He didn't respond as he heard a man walk up behind him. A handful of his hair was grabbed again and his head pulled back so he and the Major could face one another. "Well, what is your decision?"
"Garrison, Lieutenant...." He didn't get a chance to finish before the German officer dashed his head against the wall and turned away.
"Wie Sie w�nschen!" The table creaked as the Major rested his weight against it. "An Ihrem Vergn�gen, Reischal."
It was going about as he expected. Now the belt would come out. Craig had planned it out, how many blows he thought he could take before he hooked the Major, and he waited for the sergeant to step up and pull the shirt open down his back so he could make a good job of it. The pile driver blow Reischal delivered to the area over his kidneys came as a complete surprise. The fact that it was followed immediately by another one left him little time to decide on his next move. He pulled his chin down and mumbled, just loud enough he hoped the sound would carry across the room. Reischal struck again and Garrison felt his ribs go.
"Schritt zur�ck." As the sergeant moved out of the way the Major stepped up and pulled his head back gain. "Did you say something?"
"Jamieson, Captain, 0357829."
That's the worst of it, Garrison thought to himself as the sergeant hoisted him by his belt and pulled his arms up to release him from his pinion on the wall. Reischal let him fall into a heap on the floor at his feet, and gave him a little friendly encouragement with the toe of his boot to get him started on the process of getting to his feet again. The party moved down the hall into an office that was a little more comfortable, for the Major. His own accommodation was another set of straps and a hard backed wooden chair with a very bright, very hot lamp shinning down on it.
Craig let them spend the rest of the morning convincing him to give them the information he was carrying. As he recited the last set of numbers recounting the availability of US troops and the speed with which they could be in Great Britain he hoped he'd read the political situation correctly. If he was wrong he was probably enjoying his last moments on earth.
The Major sat back in his chair and gave a satisfied grunt of pleasure. "Well done Captain Jamieson." He took the last drag off his current cigarette and leaned forward to stub it out in the metal cup on the desk. "I suppose you know what we do with spies, Captain? We shoot them in the street like the dogs that they are, and we leave the bodies for the birds and vermin to feed on." He reached into his tunic pocket for his cigarettes and the sergeant stepped forward to light the one he brought to his lips. Turning his gaze back on his captive he considered him through the smoke. "But you have told me a very entertaining tale and I'm sure my superiors in Berlin would be amused if you could tell it to them in person. So I think, my friend, you and I will take a little trip."
g
As the prisoner was thoroughly cowed no additional guards had been detailed to go along. Sergeant Reischal rode in front with the driver, the Major lounged in the comfortable back seat, and Garrison sat huddled miserably in the corner, as far as he could get from the man. The car made its way through the streets of the town and finally turned down a secondary road that connected to the one that ran along the river and would take them out to the main highway. Just before they pulled to the intersection a truck swerved around the corner, causing the driver to pull sharply to the side to avoid a collision. The two vehicles came to a stop with the Majors car pinned in, the truck had forced them over the curb and too close to the wall of the building for the doors to open, and its rear prevented them from moving forward. Two men rolled out of the back of the truck and sprayed the front seat of the car with bullets while two more men ran to the car and jerked the door open pulling Garrison from his seat.
While the Major peered over the back of the front seat of his car his prisoner was dragged across the intersection and forced to his knees on the river bank. The men that had intercepted his car gathered around him, and after shouting about 'traitors' and 'collaborators' one of the men brought his pistol up and put a bullet in the man's head. Two of them used their boots to lever the body into the swift current of the river and they were gone as quickly as they had appeared. The Major waited a moment to be certain he'd been left alone and then he cautiously made his way across the road and gazed down river. The bank was steep here and the river ran fast and deep. There was no sign of the man he had hoped to deliver to Berlin, but as he turned back towards the car he patted the pocket of his tunic, at least he had an accounting of what the man had told him.
g
Six days later Jackman was interrupted in a meeting with the terse message... "We got him, sir." After bringing the discussion to a close and seeing the men out of his office he turned to the phone and got the particulars on where the young man was. Ward three of the hospital, under guard... 'Well,' he thought to himself, 'that seems to fit a pattern.' The general instructed his aid to cancel the afternoon meetings and have his driver pick him up at the front of the building.