A New Assignment

Chapter 1

"Come in."

Captain Garrison strode into the large office, came to attention and then saluted. He waited while Colonel Duggan, seated behind his desk, eyed him. Garrison had not met him previously but knew of his reputation. Duggan was career Army. Enlisted right out of high school, he had climbed the ranks to the position of Colonel now heading up Special Forces based here in England. Garrison had not requested this posting but after being injured in North Africa, he had been transferred. All he could hope for was an eventual return to his original combat position. If he played his cards right it could still happen.

Colonel Duggan leaned back in his chair and considered the soldier who stood before him. He had read his file and talked to his commanding officer. All showed him to be a good soldier. He should be fast tracked to command but for one thing. He tended to think for himself. He had, on more than one occasion, taken matters into his own hands and acted without orders. The only saving grace was each time things had worked out for the good. That was until the last time when he was injured. Not his fault entirely but he was injured just the same.

Command hoped this new assignment where the officer would have to think on his feet would be a good place for the Captain. Well they would soon find out.

"At ease Captain. Have a seat." He waited until his orders had been carried out. "Welcome back. How're you feeling?"

"Ready for duty, Sir."

"Good. For your next assignment you will start by attending a training session in Canada. You will be there, training for two weeks, then at that time you will take over one of our covert teams to work behind enemy lines."

"Take over? May I ask what happened?"

"If I don't tell you they will." Colonel Duggin was resigned, "The Captain was killed while on leave, in London."

Garrison wondered briefly if it was better to die while serving your country or die at home. At least while you are home the chances of your loved ones having a body to mourn and bury was higher. He swung away from that thought. It was the old superstition that to think about death was to invite it. Craig was not superstitious but why take chance.

"For now you are to report to Lieutenant Fergus' s Office down stairs. He will give you the files on the men you are to lead and a few of their mission reports. Obviously they are not to leave the building so read them there and be ready to leave in just under two hours. A car will pick you up. Any questions?"

"I was hoping to rejoin my unit." said Garrison longingly then seeing the look on the Colonel's face he spoke with military precision. "No questions, Sir." He saluted, waited for the reply then turned smartly and left.

By the time Garrison was on the westward bound plane he thought he knew the three men he was to lead and a bit about what they had done. This was going to work out well.

It did not …. work out well.

At least the training did. His time at "The Farm" had been intense and at times very tiring but very educational. There were code phrases, intelligence jargon, signalling techniques and so much more. The world of espionage was one he had known very little about. Even more fascinating was Captain William Ewart Fairbairn, or "Fearless Dan" who had taught the hand to hand combat part of the course. Not everybody liked him but his style of fighting was incredible.

The part that didn't work was the meeting of the new team.

"Good Morning Garrison."

"Sir."

Never one to beat about the bush he came right to the point. "There has been a change of plans. You will be assigned a new team. It will be your job to train them as best you can in the limited time we have. At that time you will be briefed on your first job.

"First and most important is your confidence man. It is his job to con his way into Nazi camps and headquarters, gain their confidence, assess the situation and act as a diversion as necessary so the others can plant or remove what ever is necessary. Language skills are a must." He tossed a file to the far edge of his desk in front of the younger man. "His nom de Guerre is Actor. Details are inside.

Second, is a safe cracker. There will be many times when we wish to access information that for obvious reasons will be secured. Unfortunately he speaks only English and a bit of gutter Italian." Another file landed on top of the first. "Goes by the name Casino.

Third is a second story man. His job will be to infiltrate guarded buildings and instillations. Once inside he can prepare the way, disabling alarms, for the entrance of the rest of the team. Again no linguistic skills. His name of choice, Goniff." Another files joined the pile.

"Fourth, a car thief. The Navy or Air Force will provide transport to and from the continent but once there you will have to find your own means of transport." The fourth file, thicker than the others landed on the growing pile. "Wheeler."

Garrison reached over and sifted through the pile. Each file had a mug shot clipped to the front.

"Any questions?"

"These are Prison Records?"

"Yes. There's a shortage of trained men, for obvious reasons. Instead of training a few men in all the necessary skills we have chosen men who already have those skills. Unfortunately those skills have landed them in prison. The right incentive and they work for you."

"What's the incentive?"

"Their parole."

Captain Garrison smiled and nodded. That would be an incentive. "Five man team, Sir? Isn't that a bit large?"

"Normally, yes but these men's individual skills are usually limited to one area. " The Colonel watched and waited for a reaction. There was none so he continued. "There will be one additional man.

"These men are on route as we speak and should be arriving tomorrow at the Estate outside of London where you will train them. Being convicts, you will have to get them in shape physically, train them to take orders, and to work as a team. Anyone gives you problems, you have permission to send him back and a replacement will be brought in." He eyed the young man in front of him. From what he had read and heard, the young Captain was the right man for the job though he did not envy him the task ahead. It had not been his idea to use convicts; that came from higher up. His job was to oversee and make sure it got done.

"If there are no more questions, your orders and directions to the Estate are with Lieutenant Disher.

"Thank you Sir." Garrison rose and saluted.

Garrison reviewed the files. He did not have a good feeling about this. As a soldier he knew he faced death on the battlefield but the men behind you had a lot to do with that fate. Could he mould these men into a team that would watch his back? Could he get convicts to work together? Failure to do that ….. Well he didn't want to think about that.

A short drive brought him to the summer house, at least that was what it was called. To him it looked like a mansion. The two story stone building stood six hundred yard back from the road where it was surrounded by an eight foot high stone wall. A guard house and barrier had been set up at the entrance. He realized at least the security would be good when the guard had scrutinized his ID and papers even to matching the face to the ID.

Next he drove around the inside perimeter. The one place where the top foot of the wall had crumbled someone had dug a pit in front so the height was still eight feet. They were taking no chances. Good. Because of the size of the estate, there were two other guard houses strategically placed along the wall. He stopped at each one and familiarized himself with the guards. Satisfied that security would not be a problem, he turned to the house.

Once inside he went on an inspection tour. Being convicts they would be under house arrest as long as they were not on a mission. He had been briefed on the sleeping arrangement so he checked there first. It was a large games room on the second floor. He slowly climbed the stairs as he eyed the portraits hung along the wall. The men all looked severe, the ladies sadly serene. He wondered if that was the style or whether the owners really looked like that.

The room immediately at the top of the stairs would be used by the Sergeant Major, a young British soldier. That way he would hear any goings on in the men's quarters. His job was to keep an eye on the men while they were in residence and to assist with the training. Colonel Banks said he was 'a good man'.

To the right was a short hall that led to the former Games room that would be the men's dormitory. Five cots had been positioned around the room. The windows were barred and a lock had been installed on the outside of the large heavy door. Satisfied, he returned to the hall. To the left of the stairs he could see several more door, probably bedrooms. The door next to the Sergeant Major's room was open so he looked in. It was of moderate size, the pale blue walls reflected the day light that streamed in the large window that looked out over the front lawn. It appeared to be unoccupied. It would do for his room.

Returning to the first floor Captain Garrison went out into the courtyard. The placement of small arms targets near the back wall indicated that this was where some of the training would take place. The gates to the park grounds were locked.

Back inside the house he checked the rest of the rooms that were available. A desk had been placed in a small room facing the front lawn. It was adequate. Further down he found a larger room that overlooked the courtyard. This would be better for his office and general meeting room. With his desk over at one end by the window there would be room for a table for briefings at the other end. This way even when he was working he would still be able to keep an eye on his charges as they worked outside or just relaxed there, though he knew there would be little time to do that. They had a lot of work to do. He would have to get one of the guards to help with the move.

Now while he waited he sat and review the files again. Each one included the personality brief that the Army had requested.

First to arrive was the Sargaent Major. He was young, staunchly British and very military, evident in his ram rod posture and his crisp salute. It was good to have some Military protocol around because he was sure prison convicts would be lacking in that department. He had little time to meet and brief the man when the phone rang. It was the front gate telling him the truck was there with the prisoners. He told him to send it up and minutes later they heard the distinctive growl of a truck.

The two men went out to meet their charges. The truck had stopped, two MP's stood one on either side at the back as a third approached the new residents of the manor. After Garrison signed the form he went over and lowered the tailgate and flipped up the tarp. They had no idea where the fifth man was, but, though they were too good of soldiers to say anything, their body language said they thought he was nuts for going along with hair brained scheme. Garrison hoped his own did not say he agreed. What ever happened he was in it now. He watched as each man exited the vehicle mentally matching up the face with the photo and file details.

The first one to appear was Wheeler, the car thief. His bald head and stocky figure made that obvious. He was grinning a very satisfied grin, like he had the world by the tail when he stood at the back of the truck. He was out of prison. That was all he cared about. He had been told that as long as he did as he was told then he would stay out of that rat hole. From reading his profile Garrison knew he would bear watching. He was a bully but he had handled bullies before. That side would be physical. It would be sad commentary if he had to use his new fighting skills on the men of his own team. This of course brought a dilemma. Should he teach them all that he had learned in that department or save some so he could best them if necessary? Not knowing might cost them their lives if he didn't. He would ponder that later.

Next was his tall, debonair and most importantly, linguistically fluent con man. Though no expert on the subject, he could see where women would find him attractive. Right now he was not looking romantic, it was more of a what do I have here and what can I do with it. Garrison could see the wheels going round already. That was the threat, the man was a master manipulator. His record had included some of the con man's attempts at escape. They sounded so simple yet more than one had almost worked. Garrison would have to be mentally on his toes at all times making sure it was the enemy he was manipulating not him.

The safe cracker, Casino, was next in line. His mug shot had shown an angry street hood, here he was as definitely smug. His grin as he walked away from the truck was wide and confident as thought he had the world in the palm of his hand. He would soon learn that Garrison had his freedom in the palm of his hand. The man was the best safecracker behind bars. His solid built and show of confidence could go either way, either with him against the Germans or against him.

Lastly the second story man, Goniff. He was the smallest and slightest one on the team. Physical ability was an important requirement and though the thief appeared underweight he had been assured the man was wiry. Agility was essential to a second story man and thus to his team. Goniff would be easy to dismiss as being harmless but after reading his Parole Hearing Report and the evidence against him it was obvious that the man was slippery.

Garrison informed his 'cons' that he was the boss and that if any one of them had any other ideas they had better get rid of them or they would be back in prison so fast they would make their heads spin. Though they continued to grin he noticed that they weren't quite as broad. Goniff's dimmed noticeably.

The cuffs and leg irons were removed and the Sargent Major led them to their room.

Twenty minutes later as the first four were settling into their new quarters a second vehicle arrived. This was a smaller truck. A civilian climbed down from the cab and sauntered around to the back. He opened the doors and climbed in. Moments later two soldiers emerged and waited for the prisoner with guns at the ready. Garrison's suspicions grew. Who was this man and why the extra precautions?