Author's Note: Thanks once again to my wonderful beta reader, chantellegg, for her invaluable input. And to Jerri for her ideas for working out a plot knot. And thanks to everyone who takes the time to read. It's nice to have an appreciative audience.
WHAT THE HEART WANTS
Chief knew she was gone. She'd gently let go of the medallion after she'd unwound the chain from her fingers, and he'd felt the chill left behind when she'd moved her arm from across his bare chest. She usually slipped away before dawn.
Her name was Hannah. She bussed tables and washed dishes at The Doves while her fiancé fought for King and country on the front lines in Italy. Her unruly mass of ginger curls, startling emerald eyes, and impish laughter were a refreshing flash of sunshine in an otherwise dark world.
Their flirtation began innocently enough, with a casual touch, a sly smile, the occasional free beer. Then one windy, wet night, after a particularly frustrating failed mission, he'd lingered over his drink long after the others had left, unable to loosen the tight knots in his shoulders. When she'd come to take his empty mug, she'd taken his hand instead, laced her warm fingers with his, and led him upstairs to one of the guest rooms. All it took was her mouth on his, and her insistent tug at his belt buckle, and they'd barely gotten enough clothes off before they devoured each other in a passionate frenzy of sheer physical need.
That was months ago. She would come to him now when she'd gotten a letter from the front that was so mutilated by censors as to be unreadable, or when the news from Italy was especially grim. He'd seek her out after a mission, when he was wound so tight he felt like something inside would snap. Unlike the shy, submissive girls, or the hardened, bored professionals he'd known, she was bold and playful, unafraid to show him exactly what she needed. She'd kiss his latest cuts and bruises, and never asked him how he'd gotten them or where he'd been.
Last night she'd slipped under the sheets next to him and brushed her soft lips across the fading bruise along his jaw line, moving over to caress the almost healed cut on his lower lip. She'd trailed a cool line of gentle kisses down his neck and chest, and as she'd pushed the sheet away from the large purple bruise beneath his ribs, she'd gasped, a quiet breath of a sound. Lightly she'd traced the edges of it with the work-roughened tips of her fingers, bringing him close to the edge of his self control.
"Does it hurt?"
He'd pulled her back up to face him and covered her mouth with his, then rolled her beneath him and showed her just how little it did hurt.
Now, slowly drifting awake, he stretched and turned over to the vacant side of the bed, breathing in the heady musk that still lingered on the sheets and on his skin, and he smiled at the pleasant tension it reignited. The pleasure faded when he heard Casino's distinctive gait coming up the stairs, and he wasn't surprised by the banging on the door.
"Rise and shine, lover-boy. The war needs us."
He untangled himself from the sheets and rolled to his feet, starting to gather his clothes from where they were scattered on the floor. "Yeah, yeah. Keep your shirt on."
"Look who's talkin'. Let's move it, Romeo. I got orders to bring you in personally."
He pulled on his pants, slipped into his boots, and started buttoning his shirt as he opened the door. Casino was leaning against the opposite wall, impatiently smoking a cigarette.
Chief tucked in his shirt tail. "What's the caper this time?"
"I think we've been elected to clean up somebody else's mess."
gg gg gg gg gg gg
The grey dawn had brightened only slightly into a wet morning, with a steady rain hitting the windshield as they pulled into the mansion's courtyard. Chief sprinted after Casino as he hurried up the steps. They were the first to arrive in the map room, where the staff had laid out a breakfast of fruit, scones, jam and coffee. Casino slouched into his usual seat and poured a cup of coffee, but Chief reached for a scone, a treat he'd grown especially fond of. He dropped into his chair and smiled as he bit into the crumbly bread. If the Army considered this a prison, it was certainly the best one he would ever experience. Except for the missions.
"Good morning, gentlemen." Actor circled the table to his chair, taking a scone as he passed. "I trust we all slept well?"
Casino grunted something unintelligible.
"Chief?" Actor pulled his handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it across the table to Chief, indicating with his other hand a spot just to the left of his mouth. "You might want to check in a mirror the next time."
Chief felt the heat rise up his neck, but took Actor's offered handkerchief and wiped at the corresponding spot on his own cheek. The handkerchief came away with a small smear of red lipstick. He handed the square of silk back to Actor with a nod of thanks.
Garrison strode through the door and to the head of the table. "Alright, men, we have an assignment." He tossed a file folder onto the table and glanced around. "Where's Goniff?"
"He couldn't find a clean shirt," Actor informed them. "He'll be along."
Garrison frowned and shook his head. "It would be nice if you all could be on time for once."
"I'm 'ere!" Goniff rushed in, still buttoning his rumpled shirt. He flopped into his chair and started struggling to get his boots on. "What'd I miss?"
"The champagne and dancin' girls, babe. They just left."
"Funny."
"Settle down." Garrison handed a photo to Actor. "This is our target. Minna Vogel. Major Gregor Vogel's daughter."
Chief had figured that would be the mission. They'd gotten the Major out of Norway a couple of weeks ago under the ruse of a kidnapping, but his teenage daughter was still at a girls' school in Italy. If the Nazis discovered the Major had actually defected, she could be in danger.
"I thought they sent another team into Italy to get her." Actor handed the photo across the table to Chief.
"They did. They were compromised almost immediately. One man was killed. Now the Krauts have increased security at the school. We've been chosen to try again."
"C'mon, Warden," Casino protested. "Another suicide mission? Why can't the kid just stay right there in her cozy little boarding school until the war's over? What's so important about a teenage girl?"
"The brass promised Vogel they'd get her to England. It was part of their deal. Now he's refusing to cooperate until we hold up our end of the bargain."
Chief studied the photo, obviously a school picture. Her neat white blouse and green uniform jacket were just visible below her smiling face. She looked directly at the camera with the same intelligence and confidence as her father. Her long dark hair was pulled demurely back into a ponytail, tied with a bow that matched her jacket. She was 15. Maybe 16.
Chief passed the photo over his shoulder to Goniff. "Does she know we're comin'?"
Garrison shook his head. "Not really. We assume the Nazis told her that her father was kidnapped. Beyond that, we don't know what she knows."
Casino took the photo from Goniff. "What if she'sun facista?What if she don't wanna leave?"
"Her father assures us she's not. We have a hand-written letter from him - a kind of letter of introduction for us."
"Isn't it a little dangerous carrying that kind of information behind enemy lines?" Actor wanted to know.
"A necessary risk," Garrison assured him.
"Okay, so what's the plan, Warden?" Goniff tossed the photo into the middle of the table. "Somethin' smarter than those first blokes tried, right?"
"Our contacts in the area have solid connections at the school. They've arranged for Actor to start as a new teacher." Garrison smiled at Actor. "You are Count Bruno Moretti, an Italian nobleman suffering from the war economy and supporting yourself by teaching. Chief, you're his man servant."
"Me? Why me?"
Garrison shrugged. "It's your turn."
"Why not Goniff? He's done it before."
Goniff pulled out of his slouch. "Oh no. I ain't doin' that again. I had my fill 'o that crap..."
Garrison waved off their protests. "I need you to watch the girl, Chief. Try to get close to her..."
Casino leered at Chief across the table and chuckled. "Yeah, I'll bet. How close are we talkin'?"
Chief smiled back. "What's the matter, Casino? A little...frustrated?"
Garrison's voice hitched up a notch. "Knock it off, all of you."
Rolling his eyes, Casino picked up a scone and broke it in half. "Okay, so what are we gonna be doin' while Cochise and Beautiful here are wooin' the ladies?"
"We improvise."
"Oh, that's great. So there's no real plan."
"We'll be in the nearby village, ready to take advantage of whatever snatch opportunities Actor and Chief can come up with."
Actor sat up a little straighter, already assuming a professorial pose. "And what will I be teaching? I must be prepared, you know."
"Art. Think you can handle that?"
"Ah, the Renaissance is my specialty. I should begin with Brunelleschi. There's an excellent book in the library..."
Garrison cut him off. "Your job is to make contact with the girl and get her away from her guards."
"But if I can also impart a little knowledge..."
"Just don't get carried away." Garrison retrieved the picture and slid it back into the folder. "If there are no other questions, get some rest. We fly out at 18:00."
As the others rose and filed out, complaining about having to jump into Italy at night, Chief snagged himself two more scones and an apple. He'd stash them for later. He was almost out the door when Garrison called him back.
"Chief..."
He huffed a sigh and turned back to face the Lieutenant. He'd known this was coming sometime.
Garrison propped a foot onto the chair Goniff had just vacated, leaning on his knee, and watched him silently for a moment, until the others were out of earshot, heading up the stairs. "I know you men haven't thought of this as a prison for a long time. Don't make me tighten the leash again."
Chief just stared at him, forcing him to come to the point.
Garrison took a breath. "What we do is demanding and brutal. How you choose to decompress, and what you do with your personal time, is your business. But I need to be able to find you in a hurry. Understood?"
"You have this little talk with the others?"
"Some of them." Garrison was not giving up any confidences. "And a little discretion would be nice, too." Garrison half-smiled and touched the same spot on his own cheek that Actor had.
Chief quickly swiped his mouth with his cuff, wiping away the remainder of the lipstick. He gave his commander a brief smile before he left. "You're the boss."
gg gg gg gg gg gg
Actor wiped the remaining shaving cream from his chin and studied the face looking back at him from the bathroom mirror. The scratch on his right cheek wasn't deep. It would be gone in a few days, leaving no mark. He'd run into a stray tree branch in the dark after they'd parachuted in three nights ago. He'd have to remember to be more cautious during night jumps. At least the apartment the school had provided for him and his 'valet', at the edge of the campus, was spacious and comfortable. His suite of rooms was separate from Chief's, and the rare privacy was a welcome luxury.
His first two days of teaching had been a revelation. Since he'd settled into his position with Garrison's team, he'd discovered that he had a knack for teaching, and he enjoyed it. He took pride in being able to turn a New York mobster into a German Field Marshal, and an uneducated Cockney clod into an English gentleman. But teenage girls were a totally different challenge. He had been perturbed by their glazed expressions as he'd tried to impart the delights of Renaissance art. There must be some way he could bring it alive for them.
With thoughts of the Mona Lisa and The Last Supper bouncing in his head, he walked back into his bedroom. He was startled to find Chief lying across the bed, staring at the ceiling, idly playing with his knife. He hadn't heard him come in.
Actor tossed his damp towel onto the bed and picked up the clean white shirt hanging on the bedpost. "How long have you been here?"
"Not long."
"I think you should wash the car today." The Mercedes their contact had provided for them had gotten muddy on their drive in, and no longer looked like the vehicle of an Italian nobleman.
Chief rose from the bed with a quick, fluid motion that Actor envied."You know I ain't really your servant, right?"
Actor looked at his young teammate critically, hoping the Lieutenant hadn't made a mistake by placing him undercover. Perhaps this was a teaching opportunity, too. "For the con to work, you must become your character, make him part of you."
"And you know nobody's watchin' us now, right?"
Actor felt his patience seeping away. He indicated the lethally sharp switchblade Chief still held. "And you know not to display that thing conspicuously on campus, right?"
Chief's eyes narrowed and a muscle tightened in his jaw. He deftly folded the knife and slipped it into his pocket, then held up his bare right arm, fingers splayed, to demonstrate that he was smarter than Actor was giving him credit for.
"Fair enough." Actor turned away from Chief's frank stare and slipped into his shirt. This might be more difficult than he anticipated. But Chief certainly couldn't be a more unwilling student than Goniff or Frank Keeler. "Washing the car would give you an opportunity to discreetly surveil most of the campus..."
A small smile lifted the corners of Chief's mouth as he headed out the door. "Already got it covered. Sir."
gg gg gg gg gg gg
Chief scrubbed at the hardened blob of mud on the rear fender, wondering what was in the local dirt that made it so thick. He'd been at this for an hour, and he could feel the burn building in his shoulders. Picking up the shirt he'd dropped on the ground, he wiped the sweat from his face and leaned back against the newly shining fender, taking in the expanse of cool, green lawn that stretched in front of him.
Actor's holier-than-thou attitude could raise his hackles. Sometimes he just wanted to punch the guy in the face. The mental image made him smile. But Chief had come to admire and rely on Actor's intelligence and knowledge, his ability to stay calm and think clearly under pressure, and his unshakeable loyalty to Garrison. To all of them. And Chief loved playing chess with him, even though he almost never won. As with Garrison, Chief had decided long ago to trust the conman, and he knew for certain he was still alive because of it. He'd settle for occasionally playing with the guy's mind, trying to punch holes in the smug facade.
This time Actor had been right. This was a good place to watch most of the campus. Chief had already wandered the grounds, scouting the layout, but from this one spot he could work out guard schedules, and staff and student routines, making note of any blind spots and weaknesses. The Warden would want all that information at their rendezvous later.
The sound of raised voices made him look up. The argument was coming from behind the tool shed to his left. He hadn't heard anyone approach, but he realized he was only hearing them now because they were yelling. It bothered him that he couldn't understand any of the Italian, but he decided to sneak away rather than be caught eavesdropping.
He started to gather up the wet rags and bucket of soapy water, but he wasn't quick enough. He immediately recognized the girl who rounded the corner of the shed. Minna Vogel, with her long, dark ponytail and green school uniform, looked exactly like her picture. Only she wasn't smiling.
She came up short when she saw him, surprised that she wasn't alone. Quickly, with the sleeve of her blouse, she dashed tears from her cheeks.
"Sorry," Chief apologized. "Didn't mean to frighten you."
"You didn't frighten me," she sniffed. Her English was perfect, with barely a hint of a German accent. "You're Signore Moretti's valet, aren't you?"
He nodded. "You okay?"
"I'm fine, thank you. You must've overheard. Just a little misunderstanding." She set the books she was carrying onto the hood of the car, quickly regaining her composure. "I heard you're Polish. You don't sound Polish."
His mind raced. He hadn't anticipated that detail. "I was raised in...the U.S. Came back right before the war."
She gave a little laugh. "Poor timing, huh?"
"I guess so."
She twisted her ponytail between her fingers and studied him. "I'm Minna."
He suddenly realized he was still shirtless and sweating. He started to put his shirt back on.
"No, wait," she urged, reaching for the sketch pad among the books she'd placed on the car hood. "What's your name?"
"Boris." He hated it, but figured he was stuck with it. It was the name they'd put on his fake travel documents.
Her tears were gone now, and the smile she flashed at him was the one he'd seen in her photo, poised and confident. "Signore Moretti gave us an assignment to draw a picture of a Greek god. Would you mind being my model?"
She was bold for a 16 year old, he had to give her that. She was flirting with him. He suppressed the impulse to flirt back. "I got work to do..."
"Come on, it will only take a few minutes. Just stand right there."
"Fräulein Vogel, müssen Sie sofort mit mir kommen." The shout came from across the open lawn, from the Kraut soldier who was rushing in their direction, an armed detail behind him. Actor was hurrying to keep up.
The Kraut waved the rifle at him threateningly. "Wer bist du, und warum sprechen Sie Englisch?"
Chief's right hand twitched, but he settled for wringing out the soapy rag he held. Actor was immediately at his side, laying a patronizing hand on his shoulder. The Kraut seemed to be satisfied with whatever Actor said to him. He lowered his weapon and barked an order to his men. The soldiers surrounded Minna and began pushing her back across the lawn. The frightened glance she gave him over her shoulder grabbed at something deep inside him.
Chief waited until they were out of earshot. "What's that all about?"
"He was going to shoot you for speaking English. I explained that you're my valet and speak only Polish and English."
That didn't answer his question. "Where are they takin' her?"
Actor sighed, watching the crowd of soldiers, with the school girl at their center, disappear into the administration building. "Apparently they're closing the school and making it the local Kommandant's headquarters. They're taking Minna into hiding."
"Does the Warden know?"
"Not yet. But we need to leave, too. Get the gear together..."
Chief pulled away from Actor's hand on his shoulder. "I ain't your servant, remember?" He grabbed his shirt and walked away toward their quarters.
gg gg gg gg gg gg
Garrison had been standing over the map of the campus that Chief had drawn, studying it for what seemed like hours. He could have memorized every detail by now. Chief shifted his weight on the window sill of the safe house's small front room, and stared out into the black night. He was used to waiting for the Warden to rework a plan that had gone bust, but he kept seeing Minna's frightened eyes as the soldiers herded her away. He needed to be doing something. Now.
Finally Garrison looked up at Actor, who was seated at the small table in the center of the room. "When are they moving her?"
"From what I can gather, not for another day or two."
"Do you know where?"
Actor leaned forward and reached for his tobacco pouch. "That they are not divulging."
"Chief, show me where the guards are stationed."
"You're not thinkin' of stormin' that place now, are ya, Warden?" Casino righted his chair and leaned forward on the table. "They've probably moved in whole armored battalions by now."
Garrison ignored the protest. "Chief?"
He pushed away from his window seat and joined Garrison at the table, smoothing out the map as he pointed to specific locations. "At each gate and the doors to the dormitory. And one guy does a walking patrol of the perimeter that takes about a half hour."
"Good work."
But Chief didn't like the odds. That information was two days old. "Casino's right, Warden. The guards are probably doubled by now."
Goniff finally spoke up from where he was stretched out on the sofa. "So they'll never notice a few more Kraut soldiers, right? We'll just waltz right in, tell 'em we're takin' her to her senior prom, and waltz right back out. Simple as that."
The Warden gave him a wry smile. "I wish that would work." Then he turned back to Chief. "What do you think are their most vulnerable points?"
Chief frowned at him, knowing exactly where this was going. He pointed back to his drawing. "The rear gate is the most secluded. And they store gas and paint and stuff in this unlocked shed."
Garrison straightened. "Gentlemen, there's our plan. The rear gate is our way in, the storage shed is our diversion."
gg gg gg gg gg gg
They'd waited silently in the dark, just inside the tree line, watching as the guards made their rounds of the school's outer fence. Chief had guessed right. There were now two guards patrolling in opposite directions, cutting their window of time for getting through the gate down to fifteen minutes. But that was all they needed. The one stationary guard on the gate paced back and forth, humming to himself, probably trying to stay awake.
Garrison tapped Chief and Casino on the shoulder, motioning them forward. Chief waited briefly, until the guard had turned his back, then soundlessly approached and slid his blade between the guy's ribs. Casino hurried to the gate and had the lock opened in under a minute.
Once through the gate, Garrison, Casino and Goniff headed for the storage shed, and Chief led Actor toward the dormitory building.
Chief counted off the windows on the ground floor. Minna's was third from the left. All were dark, their blackout curtains pulled. Chief hoped she was there. They'd not given a lot of thought to a Plan B.
They crouched together in the shadows, shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the fireworks to start, the diversion that would give them the cover they needed. Chief first saw the soft orange glow of flames coming from the shed in the distance, then it flickered into flame and smoke. It was only minutes before the alarm sounded.
Chief reached up and gave the window a shove, on the outside chance that it was unlocked, a trick he'd learned from Goniff. You don't want to do anymore work than you have to. To his surprise, it swung silently inward. He boosted himself up and through.
The scene he intruded on was not what he'd anticipated. Unbothered by the clanging alarm, and unable to hear him as he dropped to the floor, Minna and a dark-haired young man were in various stages of undress, too absorbed in each other to notice the world beginning to crumble around them.
Minna saw him first. She gave a small scream, pulling herself from under the boy, and quickly covering herself with the blanket.
The boy leapt up, quickly buttoning his pants before realizing he should be angry instead of scared. He grabbed a pistol from the night stand. "Cosa vuoi?"
Chief held up his hands. "Take it easy, man. I ain't wantin' to hurt ya."
"Marco, put the gun down." Minna climbed out of bed and began dressing, now unperturbed by Chief's presence. "Boris, what are you doing here?"
"We were sent to take you to your father. We got a letter from him explainin' everything." Chief kept his eyes on Marco, who was still pointing the gun at him. "Look, we gotta get outta here. Things are gonna get crazy real quick."
She became aware of the fire alarm still blaring outside. "I can't just leave..."
Marco brandished the weapon, and growled in heavily accented English, "You're that servant from this afternoon. I saw how you looked at her. She's not going anywhere with you."
Chief didn't have time for this. "Okay, punk, that's it." With the speed of thought, he snatched the gun from Marco's hand and spun him around, twisting his arm up behind him. Using the garrote he carried in his pocket, he tightly bound Marco's hands behind him and pushed him into the upholstered chair in the corner. As Minna watched wide-eyed from the opposite corner, Chief pulled open the top drawers of her dresser and quickly found what he needed - several brightly colored scarves. He used one to gag Marco, and another to bind his ankles.
Minna finally found her voice. "Stop it! What are you doing? You're hurting him."
Chief took her by the arm and pulled. "C'mon. We ain't got all night."
"I can't...they'll find out..."
"That's why we gotta hurry." The look in her eyes was the same one he'd seen that afternoon, when the Krauts had dragged her away. He stuck Marco's gun in his belt, took a breath, and lowered his voice. "It's okay. We'll keep you safe."
"You'll really take me to England?" She looked from him to Marco, now struggling futilely against his bonds, then back at him.
"Yeah, we just gotta get outta here. Now."
He saw the decision flash in her eyes. With one last glance at Marco, she went to the window and climbed through. Actor was right there, taking her by the waist and helping her to the ground.
"Signore Moretti?" she stammered when she recognized him.
He kissed her hand. "Al vostro servizio, signorina."
The fire alarm was still blaring, and in the distance, swarms of soldiers were shouting and rushing toward the burning shed. They'd have it under control soon. Chief jumped to the ground and gave Actor a push. "Let's move it!"
Running as fast as they could, pulling Minna between them, they'd reached the rear gate when the first gasoline tank exploded, and the gunfire started. They both dropped instinctively, yanking Minna down with them.
Chief pulled the gun from his belt. "That ain't good."
But the gunfire was all in the distance. They were still alone at the edge of the campus. Actor stood and helped the panting Minna to her feet. "We need to stay with the plan and hope the others can, too."
As Actor headed into the woods, holding onto Minna's hand, Chief followed, keeping an eye on their rear. Their designated rendezvous point was three miles to the south. He had to have faith that Garrison and the others would get there safely. A second gasoline tank detonated, and then came the chilling chatter of machine gun fire. He had to have faith...