A Mission with a Difference
Chapter 1
The briefing was being led by Major Johns, not Garrison's favorite person, but like a good soldier he kept it to himself. As a child he had lashed out in anger at a neighbour child who was bothering him, punching him in the stomach. Seeing the effect, he had sworn he would never react like that again. He never turned his back on a fight but he never instigated one either. He also never let anyone force him into a fight. Any reaction to the look on the Major's face or the tone of his voice would go badly for him and ultimately his men. He had long ago figured that was the reason for the animosity. His men were convicted criminals but as a team they had pulled off some of the trickiest missions they had been given. Ultimately whatever the reason, it did not matter, whether it was something he had done or who he was associated with he would keep his mouth shut and his eyes and ears open.
Did he just see something in John's eyes; was it pleasure? The ranking officer looked away before Garrison could be sure. This was dangerous. The Major had tried to disband his team but had been foiled by General Freemont. Was this mission set up to fail so he could try again? Garrison was going to have to be careful.
"This here," and he pushed a photograph across the table, "is Percival Franklin Hodgkins. He's a photographer and an artist. It will be your job to escort him from Caen to these places." He pushed a typed piece of paper across to land next to the photograph, "where he will take pictures and make sketches. Not only will you have to get him in and back out but safeguard his equipment and drawings. Orders come from high up so if you fail you can kiss your promotion a permanent good bye. Understood? Somebody likes the guy and they want him back in one piece and breathing. Questions?"
How are we going in? Is it just the two of us or do I take the team?"
"Think you'll need them?" asked Johns sarcastically. "Maybe you better take them. That way you can keep an eye on them so they don't get into any more trouble."
"Yes sir." As angry as he felt inside and as much as he would like to wipe that look off his face, Garrison kept his own face and body neutral. He knew that not reacting to a slight or an insult sometimes worked much better than a reaction. There was also the fact that he was right. His men did blow off steam in a more serious manner that the average soldier.
"You and your men will be delivered via MTB and will meet up with him in Caen."
Garrison's first stop was at the Weather Office where he got his first piece of good news. Skies were clear to partly clouds. There were no violent thunderstorms or high winds in the forecast. This meant smoother sailing over the channel but better visibility for the enemy.
Hours later Garrison and his men sat waiting in the Mess. Their ride had arrived at the dock and was being refueled and restocked. The three sailors who sat at the other end of the room were probably from her crew or were replacements.
Having purposely selected a secluded table Garrison proceeded to brief his men. When he was finished he asked if there were any questions.
"So now we're an escort service," grouched Casino not bothering to lift his head from where it was propped up by his fist and arm. He was clearly unimpressed with their latest mission. The statement hung there for a moment until he saw motion beside him. Goniff was wiggling he eyebrows up and down.
Seeing as he had the safecracker's attention he said, "Escort," suggestively.
"You know what I mean," Casino growled, trying and failing to keep the grin off his face.
"You know it might be really Percivella and she's…"The Brit moved his hands in the universal gesture all men knew and understood.
"I hate to dampen your spirits but that picture was not of a woman," said Actor. "We did escort Johnathan Brown in to see that new Jet Engine."
"Yeah and look where that got'im. Bet who ever sent him in wasn't too pleased by that."
"And Shaffer," added Chief.
"Yeah, him too. Going with us isn't good for your health."
"Besides, Warden," said Goniff, turning to their leader, "You got one a those little cameras. You could take pictures."
"It is not the same. The miniature cameras that Garrison uses has a very short focal length. A professional photographer would have a camera with a special lens…" Seeing as he was losing his audience he said, "The Warden's camera is for close-ups. Mr. Hodgkin's camera is for distance shots."
"And you know this because … Never mind. You used a camera in one of your cons."
"Beautiful ladies are flattered when you ask them if you can immortalize them," said Actor with warmth and a faraway smile.
"How long did it take them to find out there was no film in your camera?" asked Casino dulling the shine on the tall man's face.
A private appeared at their table before the scene got ugly and they headed for the dock.
The crossing was one of their better ones; smooth sailing with no interruptions. In the outer harbour they were met by a troop carrier and taken to the Command Centre where they met the Colonel and Mr. Hodgkins.
Percival Franklin Hodgkins was an American civilian in his late forties or early fifties, appeared to be reasonably fit, with thinning grey hair, twinkling hazel eyes and a generous smile. As he was introduced he smiled and shook hands with each man, repeating their names to press them into his memory. This was not a 'let's get this over with' necessary ritual. Percival put a real effort into greeting each man.
The men, in turn, were cool, reserved, but that went unnoticed by the civilian. Goniff gave him a half smile and Chief tried to back away but Percival made a point of shaking his hand too. Like a politician, thought Garrison. He was an artist who had to be used to greeting potential clients and patrons. Maybe that was all it was.
Percival led them to the tent they were to share for the night and each man selected a cot. Goniff, never content to let silence go undisturbed asked, "So what have you seen so far?"
"I spent several days at Fort Brag, watching the training and then accompanied the troops to England. More training and then over here. No live action yet. I have been told you will be taking me the rest of the way?"
After telling his men to stay put Garrison headed back to the command centre to find out just how they were to cross their lines.
"So how long have you men been together?" asked Hodgkins.
Before Goniff could answer Actor spoke up. "I am afraid that is classified."
"Oh, sorry about that. I was just trying to get to know you. I prefer to know a bit about the people I'm working with. I had a very pleasant guide when I was in Spain right after the Spanish Civil War. We got along very well. I was hoping we could be friends as well."
Unknown to the cons, Percival was almost as good as Actor at finding out information but he did it through the large network of friends he had cultivated over the years. When he had received the commission to document the war in France he expected to be accompanied by a regular commando unit so he started asking. That was an old habit. Before he accepted a commission he found out what he could about the person, their likes and dislikes. This latest project could be lucrative but it also put his life on the line. He wanted to know who he was trusting with his life to.
It took some doing and many phone calls before he got through to a Colonel Grayson. Once he was satisfied as to whom he was talking to he gave a short overview of the team. The Lieutenant's record was encouraging, excelling at West Point and then a posting in North Africa. Following an injury he was recruited by OSS for his linguistic skills.
It was when he learned the rest of the team consisted of convicted criminal the he became concerned. Using criminals behind enemy lines was a risky venture. Men on the other side of the law were not known for their loyalty or for obeying orders. Colonel Grayson told him their record was good so he had agreed to go. Still, he would be careful.
After stowing their gear the men stood and headed for the doorway.
"I thought the Lieutenant said to stay put?" One of the men, Casino, interesting name, gave him a 'stay out of it' look. The tall one, Actor, added almost politely, "He meant the camp."
"Oh, Okay."
The Lieutenant returned looking displeased at their absence but not entirely surprised either. "The Mess opens in half an hour. We'll meet you there," was all he said before he turned and left.
Percy finished packing up his camera, stowed it in the footlocker and followed the Officer out into the camp.