Chapter 1

There was an air of boredom in the old English country mansion. The day was warm and there were at least a dozen better things the four male occupants of the common room could have been doing instead of waiting for their commanding officer to return.

The tall, distinguished black-haired man seated in the wingback chair laid the book he was reading on the end table. For once, he was unable to become engrossed in the classic he was trying to finish. There was dignity in the way he moved as he stood up and let himself out the front door. Outside, he stood at the top of the stone steps, breathing deeply of the fragrant air. The house had become too confining, almost like a prison. He stifled a shudder. The thought of prison sent a chill through his blood. Eyes sweeping the area, they came to rest on a figure approaching up the driveway.

It was a lone girl. A lovely one at that, from what the man could see. The sunlight sparkled off goldish-auburn wavy hair which hung halfway down her back. She moved with an unconscious balance and grace, despite the suitcase she carried.

Still maintaining the inborn dignity he possessed, the man went to meet her. She watched his approach, hiding her wariness. Although he had to be close to fifteen years older that her, he was still the handsomest man she had seen in a long time. His aristocratic Italian features helped her identify him as Actor. Craig had said he was big, but that did nothing to describe the real man. He had to be at least six foot four, broad shouldered, wide chested, narrow hipped and having the longest legs.

"Good afternoon," said Actor in his rich, resonant voice with the Italian accent.

"Hello," returned the girl with a smile she didn't feel. "I'm looking for Lt. Craig Garrison."

Actor cocked an eyebrow at this. "I am afraid the Lieutenant is not here at the moment. Allow me to take you bag. You will be much more comfortable to wait for him in the house."

Terry politely inclined her head, handing the suitcase to him. This was a situation she had not foreseen. As far as she knew, Craig rarely left his men alone.

As they walked up to the house, Actor asked, "What might your name be, Miss?"

"Terry . . .," replied the girl, "Teresa Garrison."

Actor looked at her in undisguised surprise. "Garrison?"

"Yes," said Teresa, "I'm Lt. Garrison's sister."

"I see," said Actor thoughtfully. "In that case you are most welcome to the mansion, Teresa."
"Thank you, sir," she returned. "You must be the one they call Actor."

Actor turned on a charming smile. "That is correct. I hope that what you may have heard about me was not all bad."

"On the contrary," Teresa was enjoying this, "I have heard much of your illustrious reputation."
Actor, quick to read a person, thought why the little chit is playing me at my own game. He was delighted.

Teresa was feeling some misgivings for not calling her brother first. She knew not only Actor's reputation, but that of Craig's three other men. Hardened criminals all, they were not the ideal company for a country girl. But then, the girl reasoned wryly, she no longer fit into that category either.

Actor escorted her into the house, determined to protect her from the others. Despite her brave front, he doubted she was ready to take them all on alone. Besides, being the Lieutenant's sister, if anything happened to her, the man's anger would know no bounds.

Entering the house, Teresa quickly took in the huge, cold, paneled interior. She would sure hate to pay to heat this place. It looked like a museum. An elegant stairway faced her, while to her left was a large room complete with built-in bookcases and a suit of armor. Not exactly a Garrison's preferred style. There was a sofa, several large chairs, and a gaming table in front of a stone fireplace. Two men were at the table, and one in a chair in the far corner.

Goniff was the first to notice the girl. "Cripes!" he exclaimed, "look what Actor found!" The blond Englishman's face lit up with a likeable grin as he appraised Teresa from head to foot.

The other two men in the room turned to look. The same look of appraisal shown in their eyes. The smile was missing.

"Leave it to him to find a skirt. Where'd you pick her up, Actor?" asked a stocky, dark-haired man at the table. Teresa quickly decided to keep an eye on this one.

"Gentlemen," said Actor, "may I present Miss Teresa Garrison, the Lieutenant's sister."

This revelation brought shocked and wary expressions to their faces. Actor took this chance to introduce the men to Teresa. She quickly connected dossier data to each name and face.

The man who had spoken last was Casino, the best safecracker in the Midwest and East Coast. He was also the demolitions expert. A tough, hard-nosed character, he was the roughest of the bunch.

Goniff, the Cockney Englishman, was a jack-of-all-trades, second-story man, and pickpocket. His likeable demeanor belied the fact he would steal you blind.

Sitting in the corner, cleaning a switchblade, was Chief. Silent most of the time, he was full-blooded Indian. A murderer, he could use that switchblade as though it were an extension of him. He was the driver and hot car artist. Though younger than Teresa, his eyes seemed older.

Holding her head up, the girl returned their assessments. Outwardly, she seemed calm and unconcerned. Inside, she was scared stiff. As if sensing this, Actor directed her to a chair and sat across from her.

"Do you have any idea when Craig will be back?" she asked conversationally.

"Anytime now," replied Actor.

"Why are you here?" asked Casino, bluntly.

Teresa turned to face him, "I'm here looking for my sister and brother. They're missing." Her tone said anything more was none of his business.

There was a too quiet silence as the others waited for Casino's reaction. Surprisingly, he just shrugged it off.

Goniff popped up over-brightly, "You play poker?"

Teresa looked at him, unable to keep from smiling. "Sure."

Goniff grinned and Actor shook his head.

Craig Garrison, sandy-haired, almost thirty, and bearing little resemblance to his sister, was tired and bothered. Any meeting with his liaison officer, Major Percy Schaffer, resulted in this. He wondered if the house would be in one piece when he got there. He hated leaving his men alone, but Kit Gallagher refused to let them in her bar. Their penchant for fighting had resulted in hundreds of dollars worth of damage the last time. The same held true for the nearer pub, the Doves.

He pulled into the yard and parked the black Packard. The house looked quiet. That was a bad sign. His men were never quiet with the exception of Chief.

No one paid a whole lot of attention when the Lieutenant entered the house. The inevitable poker game was in progress. Hardly giving it a cursory glance, Craig turned away. The suitcase blocked the stairs. He looked at it in disbelief, recognizing it.

"Terry?" he turned toward the group.

"Hi, Craig," came a female voice. "Wait a minute. See you, and raise you three."

Garrison walked closer and saw his younger sister concentrating on a poker hand. "Terry!" he thundered.

Terry looked up sourly. "Will you hold your horses? I've been waiting two hours. You can wait five minutes." She returned her attention to the game.

Craig stood speechless. This was unbelievable. He came home out of the blue to find his sister, whom he hadn't heard from in four months, sitting playing cards with four men she wouldn't ordinarily talk to. She was supposed to be in the States, not in war-torn England. And especially not with his men.

Terry finished her hand, got up and hugged her big brother. Craig was stiff with anger.

"Terry, what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

Terry was surprised at his brusqueness. "I'm looking for Chris."

Craig looked puzzled, "Chris? Where's Chris?"

Now it was Terry's turn to be puzzled, "Didn't you get Cinder's letter?"

"What letter?" demanded Craig. "The last time I heard from home was four months ago. You were with Dad in Washington and everything was fine at home. What's going on?"

Terry sighed, "Sit down. It's a long story."

Craig forgot himself and sat on the stairs. Terry leaned on the banister and began to explain. "Three months ago, Chris got word Nicky was killed in France. He was working for the O.S.S. Chris moped around for a couple weeks. Suddenly, she perked right up. A week later, she was gone, Kelly with her. She took off one night and never came back. She had to have help. They didn't take a car or a train. We tracked them to New York, where a Crystal and Kelly Bradford registered for one night in a hotel. The next place we found them was one night in a hotel in London. From London, they disappeared completely. We think they are with the O.S.S. in France."

Craig frowned, "She wouldn't take Kelly. He's just a kid. I believe she'd do something like that. But take Kelly?"

"I can see it," said Terry. "Chris would refuse to give up her plans and Kelly would refuse to go home. A Mexican stand-off."

Craig thought about it and shook his head. "If those two are in France… They can't take care of themselves."

"Well," said Terry, "if they're with Nicky's group, they'll be watched out for."

"God, I wish Chris had never met Nick Bradford!" Craig eyed his sister, "Just what do you expect to do here? Besides getting yourself killed in an air raid or something?"

"See what I can find out from the O.S.S."

Craig made a face. "Couldn't stay home could you?"

"Nope," agreed Terry. "Got an extra room?"

"You're not staying here!" said Craig, adamantly. "You can go stay with Kit."

"Uh – not really," hedged Terry. "Kit's living with Shiv."

"What?" said Craig, shortly.

"You heard," replied Terry. "My presence would not be welcome. And even if it was, I'm sure that would not be acceptable." She gave her brother a pointed look which he ignored.

Craig sighed, "You still can't stay here."

Terry gave a crooked smile at her brother. "Ye-ah, I can."

Craig looked at her sharply.

Terry hurried on. "We have to talk. In private."

"There's more."

"Just a couple things."

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

Terry grinned broadly, "Probably not."

"Outside!" Craig turned to his men. "And you stay out of it!"

"Of course," said Actor reasonably. "It sounds like a family matter."

Terry almost laughed at that, but managed to contain herself.

Actor did not miss the sparkle in her eyes. If she did stay, it might prove to be very interesting. He watched Garrison escort his sister out the front door.

Craig took a seat on the bottom step. "Okay, spill it."

Terry sat down beside him. "You remember our dear neighbor, Col. Cummings." Craig nodded sourly. "He's now Gen. Cummings. He's gotten his hands into your file. He's been in contact with some British twit, name of Major Schaffer, who has been telling him your group is more trouble than it's worth." Now she had Craig's attention. They want your group disbanded and the guys to be put back in prison."

Craig was getting angry. Coldly, he said, "Go on."

Terry looked at him. "Dad and I know this is your pet project. We know that it is pretty much working. And we know you don't want it to fail. So Dad decided he would send me to check up on you and your men, under the guise of looking for Chris and Kelly." Terry shrugged. "I'm not supposed to be telling you that part. Anyway, I am to stay with you. That way I can 'report' on your men."

Garrison digested that in silence. Without a word, he got up. Terry followed him into the house. He picked up her suitcase with a bit of extra force and led her up the stairs.

"Is she staying," questioned a Cockney voice.

"For now," was the terse response. "At least she can cook. Maybe this way we'll keep a cook around for more than a week."

The room she was given was surprising light and airy compared to the living room. A small diamond-paned window opened up to a view of the front of the house. She tested the bed and found the mattress comfortable. There was no closet, but there was a large armoire. Craig left her alone and returned to his men. As Terry unpacked, she thought about her brother.

She was shocked at how Craig had changed. He had been as wild as the rest of the kids. This stern man was not her brother. She supposed war changed people, but she hadn't thought about it affecting Craig.

She had kept in touch with their adopted brother, Monty. He was in a bomber squadron in the air force. There had been little change in him. He was still the same 'wild Indian' she had grown up with.

Terry opened the window and sat one hip on the sill. The trees were just starting to change color. In the distance she could hear heavy planes, the only thing showing there was a war going on here.

The door opened and Craig came back in. He had changed out of formal uniform and into uniform pants and shirt. Silent, he sat on the bed and watched his sister. She didn't say anything. Craig leaned back against the headboard and swung crossed booted legs up on the bed.

"How is everybody?" he asked.

"Okay, I guess," said Terry. "Mom's let Cinder take over the ranch. We're barely breaking even. Had to let the hired hands go." She moved to lounge in a chair. "I've spent the last few months with Dad at the War Department."

"You have clearance?" asked Craig in surprise.

"Hate to say it, Brother, but I have more clearance than you," admitted Terry. "Civilian. Anyway, Dad doesn't like it there. He wants to be over here."

Craig shook his head. "He got promoted one time too many." Abruptly he changed the subject. "What are you supposed to do if you find out where Chris and Kell are?"

Terry looked at him, "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it." She nodded toward the door. "How are they really working out?"

Craig looked sour. "We've proved it's a good idea, but you can't trust them for a minute. Keep a tight rein on them constantly or they'll stab each other in the back…probably literally."

"I'm surprised they haven't rebelled before now," remarked Terry. "Weren't they told it was just one mission then they'd get their pardons? It's been five months now."

"They're too valuable to turn loose," said Craig. "We need them. They're the only ones that can do this type of work."

"That's because they're being blackmailed," said Terry, cynically.

Craig looked at his sister in interest. "Whose side are you on?"

Terry replied seriously, "I don't know yet." She eyed her brother, "Whose side are you on?"

Relations the rest of the day were strained. The men watched Terry, sizing her up. She watched them, not trusting them for a minute, but curious to see what they were like as individuals.

Very early the next morning, Terry liberated the car keys and "borrowed" the Packard. She drove to Brandonshire, the nearest town. She was looking for a drinking establishment called the Blue Fox and a farmers market that was supposed to be open today to get some fresh vegetables and the like. She found something else first.

Walking bold as brass down the near deserted street was the blond Englishman known as Goniff. He spotted the Packard and stopped, watching warily. Terry pulled up to the curb and opened the passenger door. Cautiously, he got in.

"Warden send you after me?" he asked, surprised.

"No," answered Terry. "I don't think he knows you're gone. How'd you get here?"

"Hitched a ride in the back of a lorry," said Goniff matter-of-factly.

Terry wondered what he was doing here. Anticipating this, he grinned and pulled something out of his pocket. Terry held out her hand to receive the largest emerald ring she had ever seen. She didn't quite know what to do with it.

"Where'd you get this?" she asked.

Goniff grinned proudly, "I heisted it."

Terry swallowed hard and handed it back to him. "For heaven's sake, put it back where you got it."

Goniff shrugged, "I got to keep in practice."

Terry looked at him sharply, "Can you put it back?"

"Sure," replied Goniff offhandedly. "The shop doesn't open for another two hours."

"So go put it back," said Terry. "I'll wait for you here."

Goniff gave her a calculating look, then pocketed the jewel and got out of the car. Terry watched him disappear down the street. Her mouth was cottony, her palms sweaty. She was sure the police would pop up at any second.

After what seemed like hours, Goniff returned. She stared at him, not knowing if he had the ring or not.

Goniff looked at her frankly and said simply, "Its back."

She for some reason believed him.

"So what are you doing here?" asked Goniff. "'Specially at this 'our?"

"I wanted to check out the town, look for the Blue Fox and get groceries. Craig said there was some kind of farm market here this morning." She looked at Goniff. "Now that we're both here, want to come along?"

"Sure," he grinned. "I'll give you the ten cent tour."

Terry started the car and let Goniff direct her through town. He took her first to the Blue Fox, which of course was closed. Terry noted with some interest that the bar was located directly across the street from G-2 headquarters. From there, they went to the far side of town where the street was blocked off and there were vendors lining both sidewalks.

Terry parked and retrieved a basket from the back seat. Goniff came around, took her by the hand and led her into the market area. Never knowing what to expect from him, she decided it was okay and let him lead on. He kept up a constant patter of joking, teasing, and making low funny comments about things they saw. Terry just could not help liking the Englishman.

They did a circle up and down the street, comparing the offerings. Some of the vegetables were rather poor, but still good. Interspersed were booths with fine cuts of meat, seafood, and exotic offerings.

Terry leaned to Goniff's ear. "Do some of these people know there is a war on? There's caviar and tins of escargot for cryin' out loud."

"Black market," said Goniff simply. "By the way, do you need money?"

"No!" said Terry, adamantly. "I got some from Craig last night. For heaven's sake don't go rob a bank."

"Not me style," assured Goniff. As she relaxed, he said, "That's Casino's thing."

Terry turned to look at him with a sucked in cheek. "Remind me not to go anywhere with him."

"Don't worry," said Goniff, gleefully. "He wouldn't take you."

"Good."

Terry proceeded to buy fresh meat, vegetables, bread, eggs and other staples. She tried to avoid the black market booths, but sometimes there was just no getting around it. Satisfied with her purchases, she turned to head back to the car and discovered Goniff had disappeared. She stood, searching the crowd, but could not spot the blond quicksilver man. Finally, she decided she was back on her own and returned to the car.

Goniff was leaning against the side of the car, a single red rose in his hand. He straightened and smiling brightly, held it out to her. Slowly she accepted it.

As if reading her mind, he said, "I paid for it."

Terry smiled, relieved. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome."

Goniff took her basket and packages and deposited them on the backseat of the car. He opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in and he shut her door, walking around the front of the car, whistling. Getting behind the wheel, he drove them back to the house.

Pulling up to the house, Garrison was there to meet them. They both casually got out of the car and started retrieving packages.

"All right!" barked Craig.

"What?" asked Terry, innocently.

"What happened?" he demanded angrily.

Terry raised an eyebrow. "I went to Brandonshire to do some shopping. You gave me the money last night. Goniff rode with me."

Craig's eyes narrowed in disbelief, "Come on."

Terry seemed to bristle. With more than a touch of sarcasm she said, "Well you didn't get up to take me. I don't know my way around here yet. At least Goniff was nice enough to go with me."

Actor, who had come up behind Garrison at the first sign of trouble, stifled a laugh. The girl was lying. He knew it. She wasn't bad. With a little help, she might turn into something.

Garrison looked back and forth between his sister and the Englishman. Terry was glaring at him in her old defiant manner. Goniff was trying to stay away from the two spatting siblings.

Actor stepped around Craig and stood before Terry, blocking her from her brother. He gallantly took the basket from her, giving her an amused wink. "I trust you would like this in the kitchen?"

"Yes, thank you," replied Terry, not acknowledging Actor's gesture.

Somehow, she felt she had just taken a giant step in the wrong direction. It was a step up in Goniff's eyes, grateful for her cover. And further fuel for Actor's speculation on the abilities of the lieutenant's sister.

Craig remained at the car, silently watching his sister and his two men innocently going up the steps into the house. Not a one of the three was innocent. Not for the first time, Lt. Garrison thought it was going to be a long war.

In the kitchen, Goniff and Actor set the packages on the counter. Goniff quickly planted a kiss on Terry's temple. "Thanks, Love. I owe you."

Terry turned her head to glare at him in guilty frustration.

Actor was grinning openly at her distress. "Welcome to our little family, Teresa."

"Oh, get outta here . . . both of you!"

Actor laughed outright. The smile that twitched the corners of Terry's mouth belied the tone of her voice. Goniff skipped out of the kitchen, followed by a more sedate Actor.

Craig walked in the door to see Actor's laughing face. He gave the older man a 'now what?' look.

"She is a little spitfire," said Actor.

Craig shook his head, "You didn't grow up with her." He looked at Actor, "What am I going to do with her?"

"Nothing," advised Actor. "She's okay. She'll be fine here."

"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Craig.

Chapter 2

That afternoon, Terry returned to Brandonshire. This time the Blue Fox was open. There was nobody at the bar and only one couple in one of the far booths. Terry studied the room. A large oak bar extended along the left wall, behind which were shelves of every liquor imaginable. Booths lined the front wall. Around the room were scattered tables and chairs. A dance floor lined the back wall. The walls were paneled and the wood a rich dark brown. It looked rather like what she thought a British pub should look like.

Terry walked around the bar, located a refrigerator and extracted a bottle of coca cola. Opening it with a nearby bottle opener, she hopped onto a bar stool and waited for someone to appear.

A few minutes later, footsteps alerted her that someone was coming from behind the curtained doorway to the back. She sat watching a medium height, red-haired girl emerge from the curtains.

Kit Gallagher saw her childhood friend and a small smile came to her face. Her casual actions belied the fact that she hadn't seen Terry in more than a year.

"I figured you'd find your way to England sooner or later," she remarked.

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," returned Terry.

Kit laughed, "Where are you staying?"

"With Craig," Terry sipped her soda.

This revelation brought a startled reaction from Kit. "You're living in the same house as the Gorillas?"

Terry fixed her with a quizzical look, "the what?"

"The Gorillas," repeated Kit. "Craig's men."

Terry raised her eyebrows at the name. "Yes, I'm staying with Craig's men."

"You're nuts" said Kit in awe.

"Well, I understand things are a little crowded at your place."

Kit looked uncomfortable. "Yes, you might say that. How did you know?"

Terry was amused at her friend's discomfort. "I sent him here didn't I?"

Kit sighed in relief. Terry had lived with Shiv in New York until her family broke things up and her father and Craig had hauled her to Washington. When things got too hot for Shiv in his business ventures, Terry had given him money to come to England.

Terry grinned, "Where is the dear boy?"

"He's not here right now." Kit was bursting with curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

Grimly, Terry filled her in on the disappearance of her siblings. Kit listened in disbelief. It had always been the Gallagher clan that pulled the crazy stunts. Of course, the Garrison's had never been far behind in that field.

Terry looked around the bar again. "So how do you stay open with no customers?"

Kit looked at her watch. "It's only four o'clock. Wait until shift change across the street at six. The place will be busting at the seams."

The door opened off the street to admit a tall, broad shouldered man. In the time it took for his eyes to adjust to the change in light, Terry studied the man she hadn't seen in almost a year. The few strands of gray in the blond curls had changed to a gray smattering. Though the same age as her older brother, Jake Bradford's blue eyes had a much older look.

Shiv caught sight of Terry and in the brief silence a look of old friendship passed between the two. Kit watched in growing apprehension. She had a relationship with the man that could easily be terminated if he and Terry decided to resume their previous relationship.

"Well," said Shiv with studied casualness, "I know what I'm doing here. So what are you doing here?"

Terry cracked a grin, "I came to check up on how you were doing."

"Better here than New York," came back Shiv, amused. "Want to try again?"

Terry repeated her story. By the end, Shiv was frowning. When she told him about her living arrangements the frown turned to disapproval.

"Terry, you really should get out of there," he said.

"I can't," replied Terry.

"Why not?"

"Reasons," she relied vaguely.

"What kind of reasons?" persisted Shiv.

"Reasons I can't even discuss with you."

Shiv gave her a steady look, raised his eyebrows and backed down. Terry returned the look unflinchingly.

"'Ey, Kit!"

The three turned to look at a young sandy-haired woman who had appeared at the curtains. She gave Terry the once over and turned perceptibly cool.

"I need your help," she continued. "A problem with the inventory." Her accent was broad cockney. She ran a close second to Goniff.

"Yeah," replied Kit, tense. She disappeared with the girl.

Terry watched the spot they had gone through for a moment, and then turned back to Shiv. Softly she said, "Jake, I really am sorry about Nicky."

"Yeah, well, kid brother was always too wild for his own good." He looked sadly at Terry. "I'm sorry Crystal and Kell got mixed up in this."

"So am I," said Terry. "Can you get hold of Tinker?"

Jake Bradford shook his head. "No. Nicky and I got into it when he started with that mess. We were not on speaking terms and I don't know where his men are."

Terry nodded, "I didn't think it would be that easy."

Shiv looked hard at Terry. "Are you really intending to stay with Craig's hoods?"

"Yup," came the reply.

Shiv sighed in resignation. When Terry reached a decision, it was almost impossible to dissuade her from it. It seemed to be a Garrison family trait. "Do you still have a boot sheath?"

"Always," replied Terry.

Shiv placed his foot on the rung of her barstool and extracted something from his boot. He slipped it into Terry's hand. She looked down at the familiar pearl handled switchblade, and put it into the sheath in her right boot. She did not relish the thought of maybe having to use it.

"Listen, Terry," Shiv said, "if you run into trouble call me. Remember, I owe you one."

"Hopefully I'll never have to collect," she said. "I need to get back. I've got Craig's car. And I have to make dinner for the group."

She slipped off the barstool and squeezed his arm as she headed for the door. He watched her back with a worried expression.