Best Laid Plans

The German commander looked at the five men who stood before him. His eyes were drawn to the tall blond man who stood out from the others. This was the leader. At first he had thought it to be the tall handsome Italian, but the way the others' eyes slid to this one gave him away.

"My name is Commander Hoffmann. What is your name?" he demanded, raising the riding crop he had taken to carrying since his rise in position. He gently tapped the other man's face.

Not a muscle moved, although the eyes involuntarily followed the actions of the crop.

"I know that you are American spies and that you were sent here to steal plans from the D'Arcy factory." He gained a thrill of satisfaction from the startled looks of the others, but their leader remained expressionless. With a sigh of suppressed anger he jerked open Garrison's coat and, reaching in, pulled out the folded papers they had been sent to steal. Turning, he moved across the room and placed them in a hidden compartment in the small table by the door. As he did so, he asked, "Would you like me to have your men shot? One at a time until I get an answer?" He motioned to the guards who stood beside him. They raised their weapons to show that it was not an idle threat.

"Garrison, Lieutenant, 09264314."

"Yes... Yes, I know - name, rank and serial number." He smiled, knowing that he would eventually get the answers he was after. "But that is not what I really want though... is it?" He paused for effect but, seeing that Garrison was not going to be baited, he continued, "I want the names of the resistance people who helped you get into the factory."

Garrison looked at the thin, balding man who stood before him. He noted the way the man played with the riding crop, the cruel lines that tracked across his face. He could see that this man got pleasure from hurting people, and the war allowed him to use his position to do it and be rewarded. "Garrison, Lieutenant, 09264..." he began again. The riding crop came lashing down, across his face. He was not able to suppress the cry of pain as his head snapped back and he stumbled against Actor, who braced him. His vision flickered, then came back into focus.

He felt his men tense and knew that they were prepared to attack the man, even though they had no chance of surviving the array of weapons aimed at them. "Let it go," he snapped. They obeyed him with obvious reluctance.

Commander Hoffmann smiled at the injury and the reaction it got. "Maybe one of your men would be willing to spare you more pain by telling me what I want to know?" He looked at the four men, eyeing each in turn. They looked straight ahead, each determined not to betray their leader.

Commander Hoffmann sighed and motioned to the guards. "Take them to a cell, maybe a few hours for Liautenant Garrison to consider the consequences to his men will assist him in remembering the names."

A guard motioned for the five prisoners to leave the room. Goniff was last and stumbled into Casino who reached to support him. The small Englishman pushed away from him, slipping back towards the rear guard, who pushed him forward again with his raised weapon. Goniff took the force of the blow and ploughed into the small table by the door. It shook under his weight, but it gave him enough support so that he was able to straighten. Smiling weakly, he straightened his jacket before he followed the others from the room.

***

The cell was cold and dark, a meagre light slipping through a grille about eight feet above the ground. There were no beds and nowhere to sit. Silently they filed in, the door shutting with a resounding clang.

Actor immediately turned to the Warden and began to examine the bleeding wound that stretched across his cheek. Garrison would have brushed him aside, but the Italian stopped him by saying, "An infection is the last thing you need."

Realising that what he said was true, Garrison submitted to the gentle probing. Actor took out a handkerchief and began to dab at the wound.

"Well this is just great," Casino griped as he strolled about the cell, leaning against one of the walls. He cursed and leapt up as damp seeped through his jacket. "Great, the place has a leak."

Goniff stood near to Garrison watching Actor in his ministrations. Chief had positioned himself near the door, keeping watch through the small grille. "That guy's definitely got a nasty streak," Goniff stated, seeing the Warden wince and pull away from Actor.

"Tell me about it," Garrison agreed, reaching up to push Actor's hand away. "Enough," he stated, moving out of the other's grasp. Actor took a breath to argue then, seeing that it would do no good, shrugged and held out the handkerchief to Garrison, who took it and held it against the laceration.

"So, what do we do now Warden?" Casino asked finally, settling into a sitting position in the middle of the room. He kept eyeing the dark corners, as if expecting to see a rodent spring from their depths.

"I guess we wait until dark," Garrison said, seating himself on the floor. Unlike Casino, he chanced leaning against one of the walls. Tilting his head, back he closed his eyes, running recent events through his mind, analysing the problem that now faced them. With a sinking feeling, he realised that Commander Hoffmann and his men had been waiting for them, that meant a mole in one of the resistance cells. He took a deep breath and concentrate on his thoughts, pushing the throbbing of his wound to the back of his mind.

The other four men watched him for a few moments. Casino opened his mouth to ask another question but, seeing the warning look Actor threw at him, he shut it again. They left Garrison to his thoughts and settled themselves in various positions about the cell, each facing the door, ready to react at a moment's notice. Only Chief remained standing in his chosen position of guard.

Garrison played the mission over again in his mind; it was basically a simply one. Get in. Get the plans. Get out. The factory was involved in making parts of a missile that needed to be stopped; it was low key on security because it was mainly run by civilians brought in from Germany. The missile parts made were not explosive, but were important to the tracking system used.

The mission had gone well. The meeting with members of the local resistance revaled a small increase in German soldiers, but they had agreed to go ahead, and an escape route was all ready and waiting. Getting into the factory had been easy; Casino and Goniff knew their trade well and the plans had been acquired without any problems. Then things had started to go wrong. A guard had noticed Goniff and started to question him. The small blond man had acted ignorant, but the guard managed to raise the alarm before they could silence him forever.

Commander Hoffmann had been a surprise. They had definitely stumbled into a trap and only the guard catching Goniff had stopped them from walking into the carefully arranged nest of machine guns that awaited them outside the factory. He remembered the look on Hoffmann's face as he explained the plan. He pushed that thought away, he had a bigger problem now. Getting his men out was first and foremost in his mind. He could tell from the glint in Hoffmann's eye that he would enjoy getting the information he wanted the hard way, and Garrison seriously doubted if the Geneva Convention would stop the man.

"Chief... anything?" he asked as he opened his eyes. His voice sounded muffled as his right cheek had swollen during their time in the cell. He suppressed as sigh when he saw that darkness had fallen, as he knew that Hoffmann would be back with the night to carry out the treat of killing his men.

The dark Indian looked out the grille again before reporting, "All quite, one guard at the end of the hall... Looks asleep."

Garrison stood up, wincing as pain flared across his cheek. He resisted the urge to touch the wound, knowing that Actor would see the motion and pounce upon it. "Casino, still got your lock pick?"

The man smiled and produced the item from his mouth. "Never leave home without it, baby."

"Can you handle this lock?" Garrison asked, his eyes intense as he watched the other man.

"No sweat... can do it in my dreams," came the assured reply.

"Good, then starting dreaming," Garrison replied with a grimace, as pain itched again.

The door soon swung open and Casino stood back, bowing the Warden through. The lieutenant smiled, winced and nodded his head in approval. "Chief... outside. When I start a commotion be ready for the guard."

The Indian smiled and slipped from the room, he melded with the shadows and waited. Garrison began to shout at Actor, who raised his voice in return. The guard sat up and looked towards their cell. He waited a few moments then, realising that the arguing was not about to subside, he picked up his gun and went to check on the Americans.

As he approached, he held his weapon out in front of him, ready to shoot at the first sign of trouble. He never saw Chief as he slipped from the shadows and caught him about the neck. A brief struggle later, the soldier lay dead at his feet.

Garrison and his men surged into the hallway. Chief was already stripping the dead man of his uniform and gun. The guard had been a tall man, and Actor gathered his clothes and was soon dressed as the guard. Pointing the gun at his four friends, he ordered harshly, "Move, or I will shoot."

Goniff eyed him warily and commented to Garrison, "Does he remember he's on our side?"

Garrison nodded and motioned the smaller man to follow him as he took the lead. Actor brought up the rear, gun trained on the four men who walked ahead of him.

They came across another guard, sitting at a desk behind the door that led out of the prison area. Actor snapped a command at him and watched with satisfaction as the soldier jumped to obey the harsh words.

As the door swung open, Garrison attacked the man. Soon there were two guards watching over three prisoners as they made their way across the empty courtyard towards the main building, heading towards some cars parked there. Garrison looked about; he could not shake the feeling that they were being watched. As if in answer to his wondering, shots began to rain about them and a sharp pain sliced through his upper arm. Stumbling, he clutched at it, gasping in shock, but he managed to stay on his feet.

They rushed towards a car that was just parking in front of the main building. The occupants, seeing the escapees' direction, reached for their weapons, but it was in vain, as Garrison and his men swarmed over the vehicle. Tossing the driver and passenger out, they took possession and sped away from old chateau Hoffmann was using as his headquarters.

Chief drove at neck breaking speed. The car swerved and twisted along the awkward roads; soon a forest enveloped them and Garrison called a halt, knowing that Hoffmann would have radioed ahead, making their escape in the car impossible. They had no choice but to leave the vehicle and seek their escape on foot.

Garrison guarded the road as the other four pushed the car down the short incline which would hopefully hide it for the vital hours they would need to escape. The climb away from the road was difficult, as his arm was hanging uselessly at his side. From time to time pain would flare and he would clutch at it, feeling the blood seep past his fingers, down his arm to drip upon the ground. He squinted as a headache started to pound behind his eyes, and his vision began playing ticks on him.

After an hour or so of struggling up the mountain, he called a halt. The blood flowing from his arm had caused his head to start spinning, and he realised that he would soon be unable to continue unless he stopped the bleeding. As he stumbled to a halt, he was surprised to feel a strong grip go about his waist and realised that he had all but collapsed.

"Damn it, Warden... you're bleeding." Actor's voice filtered into his foggy mind, and it only just dawned on him that the others had not realised that he had been hit.

"Not too bad," he commented as he was lowered to the ground. He felt his jacket being removed then everything faded. When he next became aware, he realised that he was under cover. He started up, but was caught and easily held down. "Where....?" he began.

"In a cave... Chief found it... It started to rain, so we decided to hold up here for the rest of the night," Goniff answered. Seeing Garrison still struggling to sit, he finally gave up and assisted him.

Garrison looked about the cave. He could just see Casino on watch by the entrance, but no sign of Actor or Chief. "Where is Actor?" he asked, knowing that Chief would be with the Italian.

"They went into a nearby village... looking for a car. Actor didn't want to wait because of the dark. It was also raining quite hard and he felt that would help them."

"Damn fools," snarled Garrison, annoyed that his injury was causing them to take the risk of trying to get a car.

Goniff, knowing what the other was thinking, said nothing. Instead he reached back and offered Garrison a drink, which he gratefully accepted.

Garrison sat back and took stock of his wounds. His cheek throbbed ominously in time with his arm. He felt hot and clammy, and the headache had not passed with his period of unconsciousness. He sighed as he realised that his injuries would slow his men's escape.

Goniff, hearing the sigh, gently offered, "Why don't you try and get some more rest, Warden, it'll do you good." He looked hopefully at the other man. Seeing the small nod of consent, Goniff helped him settle back down and soon Garrison drifted into a troubled sleep.

"How's he doing?" Casino asked from his position near the entrance.

Goniff looked at the pale face and noted the slight chills that shook the Warden's body and replied, "Not good. Damn it, where's Actor and Chiefy."

"Don't sweat it, baby, they'll be here soon," came the assured reply.

Goniff pulled a face, then settled back once more to watch the sleeping man. He reached out a gentle hand and tucked the coat more firmly about Garrison.

A noise from outside alerted Casino. He raised his weapon, only to relax after Actor and Chief had shown themselves. "Well, did you get anything?" he questioned, watching them enter the cave.

"All hell has broken loose. Commander Hoffmann has the whole area in uproar looking for us," Actor supplied, slipping to his knees beside Garrison. Pulling a glove off, he checked the other's pulse, frowning at the racing beat. "We got some transport," he finally acknowledged Casino's question, "but it is still going to be difficult."

"Well that's just great, baby. What do you want us to do? Wait here until the Warden dies from losts of blood?" snapped Casino, feeling frustration well up inside him.

Actor shot him a glance of pure dislike, then caught himself before he spoke. He took a deep breath and looked at Goniff, who smiled weakly and shrugged. Looking towards Chief, he saw that he was glaring at Casino, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he fingered his knife.

"We will have to go over the mountains," Actor finally stated, breaking the silent duel between the two darker men.

"Over the mountains?" Goniff said, his voice a mere whisper. "Warden can't make it over the mountains in his condition, the cold alone...." He stopped at Actor's touch on his arm.

"We managed to acquire some items to help us," Actor said.

Chief took this as his cue, raising he moved outside and within a few seconds return, a horse in tow.

"A horse?" Casino yelled, moving away from the large beast with some speed, acting as if it was going to bite him. "You call a horse transportation?" he continued backing still further away.

"It will get Garrison across the mountains," snapped Actor, annoyed at Casino's reaction. He was not sure of the plan and didn't need reminding that it was not foolproof.

Garrison chose this moment to awaken. He saw Actor leaning above him and struggled to sit up. He looked at his men, then did a double take as he took in the large beast framed in the entrance of the cave. "Is that a horse?" he asked, not quite sure if he was caught in the grip of delirium.

Actor laughed at his tone, agreeing, "Yes, that is a horse, Warden, and you are going to ride him."

Garrison looked at him as if he had just suggested that he take a seat next to Hitler. He opened his mouth to comment, then shut it silently as he realised that he was not sure what he wanted to say.

Actor, seeing the confusion on his face, took pity and explained, "The roads have all been blocked, but we should be able to make it out of the valley by going over the mountains. They're not too steep, but it is cold this time of year, so we must wrap you up warm." He stood as he spoke and reached for the bags tied up on either side of the animal.

"Couldn't I just walk?" asked Garrison, not sure he liked the idea of being perched upon the high horse's back in his present condition.

"No," shot back Actor, then seeing that it was only fevered concern that prompted the question, he continued softly, "We have to move fast, before Hoffmann starts looking up here for us, instead of along the roads. You've lost a fair amount of blood and we can't carry you that far." He knelt back down beside Garrison. "Casino, Goniff, there are extra clothes in the other bag... get them on, we have to get moving."

Actor and Chief had already dressed up warm so, while the other two changed, they re-bandaged Garrison's wound and got him dressed in warmer clothes. By the time they were ready, the Warden was fast slipping back into unconsciousness, the pain from his wounds and the headache of fever taking its toll. His mumbled demands to be left behind fell on deaf ears and he finally succumbed to the beckoning darkness.

He roused when he felt himself being lifted and helped as much as he could as they sat him across the horse, which shied nervously under his weight. "Chief, get up there and hold him," he heard Actor say, then felt a warm body press close to him and an arm wrap itself firmly about his waist. He sighed and leant back into the offered comfort. He wanted to help his men, but his body was too weakened, and he slipped into unconsciousness as they left the cave.

***

The journey over the mountains was hard, with the bitter winds blowing continually, almost as if trying to push them back into the valley they wanted to escape from. The trail they were following was small and jagged. At times they had to walk in single file. Actor took the lead, holding the reins of the horse, Goniff was behind, with Casino taking the rear.

They stopped and rested after a few hours and Goniff took his turn behind Garrison as they resumed, with Chief taking up his previous position. It was then they discovered that Casino had no love for the animal they had found for Garrison. Although the thought of using that information at a later date kept each man warm for a few hours, they all knew their main concern was in getting the Warden to safety.

Garrison slipped in and out of consciousness. When he was awake, he had tried to be as helpful as possible, but the blood loss made the injury more serious than it might otherwise have been, and he was too weak to fight the rising fever.

The night crept on and so did the small party that climbed the mountain track. With the stops becoming more frequent, the top was reached just after dawn and Chief took the lead, scouting ahead, trying to find a cave or somewhere safe to bed down for the day.

He met up with them a short while later. He had found an abandon hut further down the trail. Although it was badly in need of some repair and had obviously been empty for some time, it would suit their needs.

The smell of a place long closed to the outside world assailed them as they entered the darkened interior. It was obvious that it had been some form of a hunting lodge before the war. Which war, there was some doubt about.

Actor wiped his hands as they came in contact with the table that stood in the middle of the room. A fireplace took up one side of the cabin, with a very rudimentalry kitchen beside it.

In one corner stood an old wooden bed. Actor made for it; lifting the worn mattress, he tested the wooden slats that lay across the rotted frame. Satisfied that it would take the Warden's weight, he dropped the mattress back, wrinkling his nose at the dust this action raised. He then laid the old blankets across it, adding one of their own on top. Once satisfied that it would suit his purpose, he motioned to Chief and Casino as they carried Garrison in. They gently placed him down, allowing his weight to sink into the bed. Actor frowned at the new blood he saw seeping from the wounded arm.

"Chief, could you get me some water?" he asked.

"Consider it done," the Indian said, grabbing up the canteen and leaving the room. He paused on his way into the trees, watching Goniff groom the horse. He raised an eyebrow when he realised that the small Englishman knew what he was doing, as he allowed the animal to feed from the long grass that grew about the hut.

Goniff, finally satisfied that the horse was comfortable, made his way inside. He knew that Chief had gone in search of water, and planned to take the horse to whatever source he found as soon as the other man got back.

Garrison had been stripped to the waist and Actor was busy wrapping blankets about his shivering body. Chief appeared, handing over the water canteen he had filled at the nearby stream. "How is he?" he asked, not liking the sickly hue that hung over the Warden's features.

"I'm not sure. He's lost too much blood. We should have realised he'd been shot," commented Actor, ripping a blanket into fair sized squares. Wetting one, he placed it across the panting man's forehead; using another, he wiped Garrison's face, taking care when he came to the wounded cheek.

Goniff slipped up behind Chief, asking, "How far is the water? I want to get the horse settled."

Chief, realising he wasn't doing any good standing over Actor, offered to show Goniff where the small stream was. Both men left the hut and silence fell. It was only broken by the fevered muttering of the man upon the bed.

Casino sat down at the small dirty table and watched Actor as he worked. He did not voice his concerns, as he knew that the Italian shared them with him, as did the others. Finally he asked, "How much further do we have to go?"

Actor looked up from his chore. Casino noticed the lines of worry about his eyes. "I don't know. There should be a village at the bottom of the mountain; we will be able to contact the resistance there."

"You know who to contact?" Casino asked, surprised.

Actor smiled. "The resistance is very strong, hereabouts, and we already had an agreement to meet someone just outside the town after the mission. They have our escape route all ready; we will be a day late, but the arrangement was for them to return for three nights, so they should be there tonight."

The day passed slowly and they spent their time divided between resting and guard duty. Actor kept a careful eye on Garrison, who seemed to improve as the day wore on. He managed to keep some rough home-made soup down, and slipped into an easier sleep as the afternoon sun crept down towards the mountain peaks.

As darkness began to creep across the landscape, they made ready to leave the hut. They all felt better for the rest, and Garrison was fighting the fever. To them, this was the best sign they had had all day.

Chief again took his position behind Garrison as they slowly began their decent of the mountain. The horse was now used to the arrangement and accepted being led without difficulty. Garrison was more alert than the night before and, when they reached a particularly dangerous spot on the trail, he had managed to walk the short distance to clear the trouble, before the others insisted that he remount with Goniff behind him.

The night slid on, and the pathway down the into the valley became easier as the slope softened into a gentle incline. The bright moon gave them enough light to see by, and they finally came upon the arranged meeting place. Silence hung over the small clearing and Chief slipped from his position behind the horse and began to scout the area, while Goniff allowed Actor to take Garrison's weight as he slipped from the animal.

Garrison stood leaning against the flank of the animal as he peered into the darkness. The moon was descending now and, in the distance, he could hear some farm animal beginning to greet the new day. "They might have gone," he advised Actor, who stood beside him, overtly covering him with his own body, his weapon at the ready.

Finally Chief reappeared. Both Garrison and Actor let out sighs of relief, and moved away from the animal. Goniff, seeing this, took the horse's bridle and led him over to a small stream that ran through the clearing. A small man with greying hair stepped forward and introduced himself to Garrison. "My name is Jacques. We thought you were not going to make it," he said, talking directly to Garrison.

Garrison nodded. "Commander Hoffmann was waiting for us."

This information did not seem to surprise the Frenchman, who explained, "We had a traitor in one of our other units." He smiled coldly. "He is no longer in a position to help the Nazis now."

"Can you get word to England?" Garrison's voice caught as he continued, "Tell them the mission was a failure." He seemed to sag under these words, as if his energy had suddenly drained by the knowledge that he had failed.

Both Actor and Chief moved forward to support him, but he shook his head, stopping them, although he did allow Actor to retain his steadying grip upon his other arm.

"You've been wounded," stated the Frenchman, eyeing the too-pale face and raw welt that ran across one cheek.

Garrison brushed his concerns aside, asking instead, "Our escape route, has it been compromised?"

"No, the traitor had no knowledge of that," Jacques said. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a watch; glancing at the time, he decided, "We will have to hide you for today and arrange the pick up for tonight."

Garrison nodded, knowing that with the sun rising the danger of them being spotted was increased. Jacques continued, "There is a farmhouse about a mile from here, we can hide you there." He smiled towards the horse, "I see you were the people who acquired old Pierre's horse. He's had the valley in uproar over its loss."

Garrison made to follow the man, but Actor's grip upon his arm prevented him as the conman asked quietly, "You weren't considering walking to the farmhouse, were you, Warden?" He motioned towards the horse and Garrison, realising that they would not permit him to walk, allowed himself to be helped back onto the animal's back.

Goniff caught up with Jacques and asked quietly, "What will happen to the horse?"

"He will be returned to Pierre. He is a loyal Frenchman and will be more than pleased to find that his old nag has been used by the resistance."

Goniff fell back into line and smiled at Casino, who looked towards the heaven as if to release him from this bad dream. The horse snorted and picked up his pace, causing the safe-cracker to speed up himself.

The cellar of the farmhouse was cosy and warm, and Garrison was pleased to finally sink down onto a bed that was there. Laying his good arm across his eyes, he did not see the concerned look that fled between his men. They knew that he had fast been using up his reserve of strength. Jacques, seeing their looks, said quietly, "We are lucky to have a good doctor in the village. Do you want me to arrange a visit?"

Actor considered the offer. "If you don't mind. I'm concerned about the loss of blood and infection."

Jacques nodded and departed, saying, "I will be back as soon as I can."

Garrison dropped into an uneasy sleep and Actor was loathe to wake him when the farmer's wife brought the food, but he knew that the Warden had eaten nothing since the day before. Moving across to the bed, he gently shook him, saying, "Warden..."

Garrison opened his eyes at the hand upon his shoulder; his mouth felt dry and his body ached with a desperate need for more sleep. He just wanted to close his eyes and let the war, the failure of the mission, and his pain slip away from him. Instead, he reached up a hand and rubbed his eyes. Sitting slowly, he accepted the plate Actor offered and, balancing it upon his knees, began to chew at the stew and bread he had been given.

"How long?" he asked the still-hovering Actor.

"About two hours," the conman supplied, knowing that Garrison was asking how long had he been asleep. "Here, drink this," Actor continued, offering the cup he also held.

Garrison picked lightly at the food until he decided that he had eaten enough. Actor took his plate and watched with growing concern as Garrison slumped back upon the bed, seeking the haven of sleep once more.

Actor returned to the table. "How is he?" Goniff asked, looking up from his own food. The Italian held out the plate, showing the food that had not been touched.

"I thought Jacques said he was bringing a doctor back," snapped Casino, standing and beginning to pace the room.

Chief looked at him for a few moments, then returned to his position by the door. He straightened up a short while later, his knife appearing in his hand, but he relaxed as Jacques appeared with another older man in tow.

"Dr Renault," Jacques introduced the man and, without further words, showed him over to Garrison, who was roused by the sudden commotion. Realising what was going on, Garrison glared at his men, but submitted to the medical examination. The man knew his job and soon the injured arm had been expertly cleaned and tightly bound, supported by a sling; the cheek was cleaned and covered with gauze. He finished by giving Garrison an injection which seemed to seep into Garrison's body dragging him towards sleep.

After making sure that the sleep was deep and the breathing even, the doctor turned to the waiting men. "The blood loss is severe; he should not walk or do anything to tax his remaining strength. He will need a blood transfusion once back in England," Actor repeated, interpreting for the Frenchman who spoke only his own language. "They might decide on stitching the cheek, but he advises against it, as it should heal on its own without leaving a scar."

Actor asked a question about Garrison's apparent depression. The doctor nodded and spoke in rapid fire French; the others waited impatiently for the Italian to explain both his question and the answer. "I asked about Garrison's depressed mood. Doctor Renault seems to think it is caused by the blood loss; it should pass once he has had a proper chance to rest."

He paused as the doctor spoke again, this time pointing to Garrison and waving his arms about in the air. "He has given him a shot of morphine to stop him from becoming feverish and penicillin to fight the infection."

The doctor rummaged about in his bag and pulled out a bottle of tablets. Handing them to Actor, he advised him on the time and dosage then, tipping his hat to the other three, he proceeded to shake each of their hands firmly before he departed upstairs to talk to the farmers wife, who had allegedly requested his presence to tend a cut on her arm.

Jacques waited until he had gone before he said, "The submarine will meet you at eleven tonight; the coast is a few hours away by car, so be ready to leave here by eight. I will be driving you."

"What about the road blocks Hoffmann has up?" questioned Actor, tilting his head slightly.

Jacques smiled, replying, "We're not too sure, but Hoffmann apparently exceeded his authority in ordering them; many of the men were drafted back to their original position by some General, Hoffmann has disappeared. The road blocks are at a minimum... We should have no trouble getting through the back way."

Actor nodded his thanks as Jacques left the cellar. Then, turning, he advised the others to catch up on their lost sleep. Chief volunteered to take first watch, and the others drifted into a much needed sleep, knowing that the expert knife thrower would awaken them if any trouble should arise.

Garrison awoke at early evening; the sleep seemed to have done him good and he ate the meal that was placed before him. He silently took the tablet that Actor offered and swallowed it down. Laying back, he watched the others as they moved about the room.

The mission had not gone as he would have liked, but at least they were all alive. He smiled as Actor informed him of what Jacques had said about Hoffmann; he did not feel any pity for the man and truly hoped that he would be busted down to a foot soldier and sent to the Russian front.

Jacques, true to his word, returned that night and they silently left the farmhouse to climb into the back of his van. They hid themselves behind the pile of crates and barrels he had there and settled back for the journey to the coast.

Garrison repositioned his sling; the tablets he had been given were obviously painkillers as his cheek and arm were now only a dull throb. He was still weak. The way his limbs had shaken as he was helped up into the back of the truck bore mute testimony to that, but at least the worst was over.

"Want a drink, Warden?" Casino offered from a small flask he had acquired from somewhere.

Garrison accepted and coughed as the hard liquor hit the back of his throat. Handing the flask back, he gasped, "Where did you get that?" His eyes watered as the fire burned down to his stomach.

"The cabin where we stayed yesterday. There was a small root cellar; this stuff is pure fire, isn't it?" Casino laughed, enjoying the show of Garrison trying to get his breath back.

Chief offered Garrison some water from his canteen. The latter gratefully accepted it, taking a few deep swallows to put out the fire in his body.

Actor glared at Casino. "Are you mad? Offering the Warden that after his blood loss?" snapped the conman, anger clearly noticeable in his voice.

"Hey, this will get his blood level up. Won't it, Warden?" defended the safecracker with a smile.

Garrison held up his good hand, forestalling any further arguments. "That is surely something," he added for good measure then, smiling at Actor, he said, "The trip wasn't a total loss if Casino found a new form of booze, now was it?"

Goniff had been strangely silent since leaving the farmhouse, now he ventured with a worried frown, "I wouldn't say it was a total loss anyway, Warden." Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a small bundle of papers. He handed them to Garrison who opened them with Actor's help.

Garrison could not believe his eyes as he sat looking at the plans they had been sent to get. "How... I mean... When....?" Garrison stammered.

Goniff suddenly looked very pleased with himself. "Hoffmann put the plans in that table by the door. As we filed past it.... I just kinda borrowed them back." He shrugged to emphasise his innocence.

Actor laughed and, reaching over, ruffled the small blond man's hair. "No wonder he was so anxious to recapture us; he was after the plans, not us."

Garrison looked at the smiling faces of his men and realised that they had had a very lucky escape this time. Remembering a line he had once heard from an old play, he mumbled quietly to himself, "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse."

"What's that?" Actor asked, turning to look at his commander with some concern.

Garrison shook his head and gave them all a bright smile. "Nothing," he said. "Just thinking out loud."

THE END

GARRISON'S GORILLAS      *      HOME PAGE

This website is maintained by Donna and Wyvern
email Donna