Author's note: This story references Episode #2, "Breakout". If you haven't watched it for a while, you may want to refresh your memory on YouTube. Special thanks to chantellegg for the donation of her story concept as well the invaluable advice and insight. Your input made this a better story.
THE SNATCH
Two weeks without a mission. Two weeks to rest and recover. Two weeks of getting enough sleep and enough to eat. Two weeks pain-free. Two weeks of pretending there's no war. Chief knew it couldn't last, but when Garrison summoned them to the map room, the sudden tight knot in his stomach surprised him.
Everyone else was already there, Garrison in the chair at the head of the table. Lunch was laid out - sandwiches, fruit and coffee. Probably their last substantial meal for a while. Chief took his seat next to Goniff, helped himself to an apple, and leaned back in the chair, stretching his legs out, feigning a calm he didn't feel.
"Alright, guys, here's the deal." Garrison tossed the 8x10 glossy photo into the middle of the table, next to the plate of sandwiches. "This is Major Gregor Vogel. He's a Harvard-educated biochemist now working in the Nazis' chemical weapons program. And he wants to defect. We're going to help him do that."
Actor glanced at the face in the picture, then passed it to his left, to Casino. "That sounds easy enough. We just have to facilitate his escape out of the country."
"Yeah, well, it's not quite that simple."
"Of course not." Casino flipped the photo across the table to Goniff. "When is it ever that simple."
"Colonel Vogel has a teenage daughter at a finishing school in Italy. If the Nazis think he's defected, it puts her in danger. We have to make it look like we've kidnapped him."
"Well, why don't we just snatch the kid, too?"
"One mission at a time, Goniff."
"Come on, Warden. We can do both." Goniff handed the picture to Chief. "And maybe blow up a submarine base and off Hitler, too, while we're at it."
Chief studied the middle-aged officer staring confidently into the camera. He had intelligent eyes and was trying hard not to smile, looking more like he belonged in a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows than a Wehrmacht uniform. Chief tossed the picture back into the middle of the table. "So what's the plan, Warden?"
"We've known he's wanted out for some time, but because he works in Berlin, it's never really been feasible. He's attending a meeting in Oslo, and this is probably going to be our best shot. The trick is to make it public and dramatic enough that there's no question he's being taken against his will. Vogel knows we're going to make our move sometime during the week, but to keep it looking authentic, we're going to surprise him."
"And then we just drive out of Oslo with him, is that it? Like nobody's gonna try to stop us?" Casino reached for another sandwich, smiling a challenge at their commander.
Garrison returned his smile. "We pull a switch. We move Vogel to a second car while the first one leads any pursuers on a wild goose chase. Then we meet up and head for the harbor. With any luck, no one will follow us, and we'll just leave behind a lot of upset eye witnesses."
"Luck, you say." Casino rolled his eyes. "Oh man, do you want me to start listin' all the ways this could go wrong?"
"No, Casino, I don't. If you have a better plan, I'd like to hear that instead,"
Casino shrugged and mumbled, "If I come up with one, you'll be the first to know about it."
"Alright, if there are no other questions, finish lunch and get your gear together. We head out tonight."
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It was simply called Hagerestauranten, and if the rough, hand-painted sign hadn't been hanging over the door, you never would have known it was there. It was tucked in the middle of a quiet little street of shops several blocks from Nazi headquarters. Their contact said Vogel ate there every night. It was the only time he left the headquarters building.
From the passenger seat next to Chief, Garrison watched the restaurant through binoculars, wishing he had at least a little daylight. "That looks like him going in now. He has a couple of friends with him."
"Officers?" Actor asked from the back seat.
"Looks like it."
"Beautiful! There goes our clean break."
"Don't worry about it, Casino. We've got it covered. Remember, no collateral damage if we can help it. Not even the other officers. We need them to be witnesses."
He motioned Chief to pull the black sedan up in front of the restaurant, and they all climbed out. With silent gestures, he stationed Goniff outside by the door and Casino next to the car, with the motor running. Chief and Actor followed him inside, then spread out to his left and right. There were a dozen tables in the small, dim space, only three of which were occupied. He quickly spotted their target at the one in the far right corner, in an animated discussion with one of his companions. When the third officer looked up from his menu, Garrison's heart stopped. Colonel Mantfreeling.
To his right, Actor whispered. "Isn't he supposed to be dead?"
"Apparently he's not. But this doesn't change anything."
Sensing his commander's apprehension, Chief asked, "Who is he?"
"I'll explain later."
As they'd planned, they approached and surrounded the table, the waiter edging out of their way at the sight of the raised machine guns. While Actor and Chief trained their weapons on Mantfreeling and the other officer, Garrison grabbed Vogel by his collar and dragged him from his chair, pressing the muzzle of his pistol against his temple. "I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner, gentlemen, but we need the Major to come with us."
Under any other circumstances, Mantfreeling's expression would have been comical, but he didn't sit there with his mouth open for long. His face reddened and his eyes narrowed into slits. "You..."
Garrison nodded to him. "Nice to see you again, Colonel."
Vogel gave a quiet little gasp. He was either playing his part very well, or he was truly terrified. Garrison could feel him trembling under his grasp. Pulling the Major in front of him, he backed toward the door while Actor and Chief kept the others at bay. Once outside, he pushed Vogel toward the waiting car. Casino had the back door open, and Goniff helped him shove Vogel inside and to the floor. Only then did Actor and Chief make their exit. Chief jumped into the driver's seat and pulled the car away from the curb before all the doors were closed.
Casino turned to look out the rear window, trying not to step on Vogel, still huddled on the floor. "They're comin' after us, Warden. You can make book on it."
Only Actor thought to check on the Major. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, I think so. That certainly was...exciting."
Garrison heard the squeal of tires in the distance and the roar of engines closing in on them. "Let's cut the chatter until we're out of here. Chief, remember, you don't want to lose them yet, just outdistance them."
"I know what I'm doin'."
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Chief skidded a tight left turn onto a main street, then another quick left into a narrow alley. Garrison, Actor and Goniff transferred Vogel into the back of the milk delivery truck in under 10 seconds, and with Casino now in the passenger seat beside him, Chief backed out quickly and continued the chase.
"Are they still back there?"
"Yeah, they just turned the corner," Casino said. "Man, I sure don't like being the decoy. Can you speed it up a little?"
"Yeah, time to lose these suckers." Chief floored the gas and swung another tight left turn, throwing Casino against the passenger door. How many times had he successfully outrun the cops in a stolen car? Enough to know that he enjoyed the speed, the thrill, and the challenge. But if he'd gotten caught any of the other times, it only meant jail time. Now it meant his life. And Casino's.
When he felt he'd gotten far enough away from their transfer point, and the Krauts were no longer in his rear view mirror, he chose another dark alley between buildings and pulled far off the street.
Casino grabbed his rifle from the front seat. "Sounds like we lost them."
Chief jumped from the driver's side and slung his rifle across his back. He listened for any sign of pursuit, but could hear none. "Maybe," was all he was willing to concede.
Together they sprinted to the far end of the alley, to a small side street, and swung a right.
Chief immediately collided with something waist high, hit the pavement shoulder first, and slid. When he rolled back to his feet, Casino was clutching a struggling boy by the arm, effortlessly lifting him off the ground like a rag doll. Casino set the boy on his feet, and he scurried back into the shadows of a recessed doorway, his dark eyes wide.
Chief wiped the gravel from his hands down his pants leg and picked up the sack the boy had been carrying. It held two loaves of bread and a tin can.
"Doin' a little light-fingered late-night shoppin', huh kid?" Casino grinned, snagging another can that had rolled into the gutter.
Taking the stray can from Casino and shoving it in with the rest, Chief held the sack out to the boy. He was no more than 10. An underfed 12 at best. His clothes hung from him in tatters, his dark hair was greasy and matted. But he snatched the sack from Chief's hand with a grim, defiant set to his shoulders.
Casino smacked Chief on the arm and started up the street. "C'mon, we gotta move."
The boy's wide dark eyes locked onto Chief's - eyes filled with anger, hunger, and fear. And determination. With the curfews and stiff penalties for stealing, this kid was playing a desperate, deadly game. But when you had that kind of hole in your belly, Chief knew curfews and cops were the last thing you thought about.
"Chief!"
The spell was broken, and he turned and ran after Casino, catching up to him at the next corner.
As they rounded the side of the building, the sound of a door crashing open and an angry shout sent them diving for cover into the nearest doorway. Chief's blade sprang to his hand, and he listened for the source of the sound. It was coming from the street they'd just left.
The shouting continued, becoming louder, enraged, and there was the sound of a scuffle. Then the distinctive whack of flesh striking flesh. A child's small voice cried out. An immediate second blow, and another sharp cry of pain.
The kid. Chief felt each blow, the memory of pain and terror as vivid as if it were yesterday. Quicker than thought, he was out of their hiding place, around the corner, and headed back toward the commotion. Behind him he heard Casino curse.
Chief grabbed the wrist of the short, fat man who was about to strike the boy a third time. Slamming him against the wall, Chief pressed his blade into the thick neck. "You wanna stop that, friend," he hissed.
The boy stumbled backward to the ground, dropping the sack, and stared up at him with those dark, distrusting eyes.
"Beat it, kid."
The boy sat frozen.
"Go on, get outta here!"
Grabbing his sack, the boy scrambled to his feet and evaporated into the shadows like a ghost.
Chief released his grip on the attacker, giving him another hard shove against the wall. "Pick on somebody your own size, got it?"
The fat little bully found his voice. "Hjelp! Behage hjelpe! Jeg er ranet!"
Suddenly they were no longer alone on the street. From the same shadows that had swallowed the boy, armed German soldiers materialized, weapons trained on him. He had not heard them approach. Cold, hard fear coiled in his stomach.
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As far as safe houses went, this was a nice one. The apartment was on the second floor of an older building near the harbor, maintained by a wealthy city official who secretly supported the partisan movement. It was small, but comfortably furnished, and well-stocked with food. Garrison had suggested Major Vogel use the bedroom to get some sleep before they had to paddle out to meet the sub, and he'd willing accepted. Actor had found something to read from the small but eclectic library, and Goniff was stretched out on the couch, nibbling on some cookies.
Garrison paced. The clock on the mantel struck 8 p.m., and he checked it against his watch. If they missed their rendezvous, they'd have to wait another two days. Not an acceptable option.
"Warden, will ya quit yer stalkin'? You're givin' me the willies," Goniff complained.
"They'll get here," Actor assured him. "They're probably being especially cautious."
"I hope so." 'Cautious' was not a word Garrison would have used to describe either Chief or Casino, but they were both skilled get-away artists, so he had to remind himself to trust their instincts. He paced another circuit of the room.
At the sudden sound of running in the hallway outside, Garrison pulled his side arm. Then came the three distinctive knocks that signaled 'friend'. He sighed in relief and unlocked the door. But only Casino rushed in, closing it behind him, and he collapsed against it, breathing hard.
Garrison's relief turned to dread. "Where's Chief?"
"They got him," Casino panted.
Goniff was on his feet. "What happened? Is he okay?"
"Yeah, I think so. We left the car in an alley, but there was this kid, see, stealin' food, and some guy, like a shop owner or somethin', started wailin' on him..."
"Slow down," Garrison urged. "You're not making sense."
Casino straightened and looked Garrison in the eye. "Chief went back to save a kid who was gettin' the crap beat out of him. And the Krauts nabbed him. There were too many of 'em, Warden. I didn't have a chance..."
"It's okay, Casino. You did the right thing."
"I tried to follow 'em, ya know, to see where they took him. But I lost 'em." Casino slammed a fist back against the door. "Of all the stupid stunts! He got hisself captured for some lousy little shoplifter."
"They'll take him to headquarters," Major Vogel said quietly from the bedroom doorway. "There's a high-security prison there."
"And we're gonna go get 'im, right, Warden?"
"Yeah, we can't just leave him there," Casino agreed.
Garrison took a breath, tried to control his mounting fear, order his priorities. He needed more information. "Major, tell me about that prison."
Vogel scratched his head. "Well, the building used to be Oslo's police headquarters. The SS have reinforced the prisoner holding area and keep it heavily guarded. Colonel Mantfreeling is in charge." He looked up at Garrison questioningly. "You know Mantfreeling, don't you?"
"Yeah, we've met."
Vogel's eyes widened. "It was you. You're the one who kidnapped his son and destroyed the prison at Drammen."
Garrison nodded. Vogel was studying him as if trying to decide if he was a monster, someone who would sacrifice a child for the sake of a mission. "The boy was never really in danger," he tried to explain, but it sounded weak.
"Karl doesn't speak of the details, but I know he holds a terrible grudge. That incident ruined his career. He'll get what he wants from your man and then kill him."
"Chief won't talk." Casino pushed away from the door, pointing a threatening finger at Vogel.
"He may have no choice."
Garrison didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean 'no choice'?"
"We've been working on a new drug. A truth serum, if you will. We've only done limited testing on..." Vogel hesitated.
"On prisoners, right?" Actor finished for him.
"Among others." Vogel swallowed hard. "And the results have been promising."
"Chief's tougher than any of us," Casino insisted. "They won't get anything outta him, no matter what they do."
"Enough, Casino." Garrison gave him a warning wave, then turned back to Vogel. "How long do we have?"
"It's hard to say. It depends on whether they try the drug right away or start with...more conventional methods."
"C'mon, what's the plan, Warden?" Goniff pleaded.
Garrison leaned an arm on the mantel and rubbed his eyes, trying to banish the grim images forcing their way into his head. His priority had to be the mission, always the mission. He only had two options, and he didn't like either of them. They could definitely get Vogel to safety, but that would accomplish only part of the mission. Leaving Chief in the hands of the Nazis put Vogel's daughter in jeopardy.
Or they could risk total failure and try to save Chief before he was forced to talk. If they succeeded, they would accomplish the entire mission. But that was a big 'if'.
Garrison believed Casino was right. There was an unbreakable spirit and a fierce loyalty in Chief that, under physical torture, he would die to protect. But the drug presented a frightening new twist.
And then there was the memory that continued to haunt him. He'd left Chief behind once before, for the sake of a mission. He didn't think he could face that again. The team had started to crumble and he'd begun to doubt his own leadership abilities. It was like a vital piece of them had been ripped away, leaving a bloody hole. And he'd been unprepared for the grief. He'd lost men in combat before, and he'd mourned every one of them. But this was different. Maybe his superiors were right. He had become dangerously close to these men, and it was clouding his professional judgement.
Still, if there was any way to salvage the mission and save Chief, he had to risk it. He'd made a promise, to Chief and to himself, and he intended to keep it. He'd find some way to explain to his superiors. He came to a decision. He straightened and faced his men.
"You do have a plan, right, Warden?" The silence was making Goniff nervous. "Actor and me, we can go nick some uniforms..."
"That won't work this time. Mantfreeling already knows that game."
"We'll never break into that prison, Lieutenant," Actor warned.
Garrison took a deep breath, trying not to think of the implications of what he was about to say. "We don't have to break in. We give them Vogel in exchange."