THE FOG OF WAR

Chapter 1

Garrison dropped down behind the shelter of a fallen tree, in a desperate hope that it would give him a few seconds to catch his breath and ease the burning in his lungs. In the distance he thought he could see the clearing where the plane was suppose to be waiting, and the movement through the woods ahead of him should be the rest of his men, and the young woman who was the target of this mission, running toward their getaway.

Another mortar exploded in the woods to his right. He instinctively covered his head as a shower of splinters and sparks rained down on him, along with the real rain that had drenched them for an hour. Damn, the Germans were perfecting their down-range targeting with that huge gun. It was now or never. Leaping to his feet, slipping on the wet leaves, he made a dash for the clearing, hoping he'd reach the plane before the next mortar round did.

He skidded to a halt at the edge of the woods, quickly surveying the clearing for any possible dangers. A flash of lightning and accompanying deafening thunder clap made him duck again, as if more flame and shrapnel would come pelting down. But the lightning gave him a brief view of the small plane just 200 yards ahead, and the rest of the crew gathered near the door. Now if they could just get off the ground...

He reached the airplane as Casino was helping their young ward clamber up into the open hatch. Goniff and Actor were already inside, reaching down for her hands.

"Where's Chief?" he gasped, trying to slow his breathing.

Casino glanced around quickly, as if just noticing the Indian's absence. "He was right behind me. I know he was."

Garrison slumped against the side of the plane and quickly scanned the distance he'd just run, searching through the sheets of heavy rain for any sign of his missing crew member. He flinched at another flash of lightning - or was it another mortar round?

"Get in the plane, Casino." Garrison motioned for the pilot to start the engines.

"I'll go find him. He was right on my tail a minute ago."

Casino reached for his rifle and started back the way they'd come, but Garrison caught his arm. "No. Get in."

"But he was right there..."

"Get in the damn plane!"

"Wait! We can't just leave him..."

"We have to get this thing off the ground now, before that big gun finds it. We're sitting ducks."

"No, wait, Warden, I know he's probably right back there in the woods. Maybe he's hurt or..." Casino tried to pull loose from his commander's grip, but Garrison hung on, desperate to keep the hot head from dashing off back into the storm. He was not ready for Casino's sudden swing and the fist that caught him solidly on the side of the head. His own temper flared - he grabbed Casino's arm again, swung him around, and with all his strength, returned the blow. Casino slammed against the side of the plane and slumped, stunned, to the ground.

Garrison quickly took hold of Casino by the jacket collar and belt, hauled him to the hatch, and heaved him in through the opening. "Actor, Goniff, pull him up..."

"Warden, what's happenin'?" Goniff asked as he pulled his semiconscious friend into the plane.

"We're getting out of here." He took hold of one of the hand straps at the edge of the door, looping it around his wrist, preparing to pull himself on board.

"But Chiefy..." Goniff started to protest.

Another mortar round exploded, metal against metal as shrapnel pelted the side of the plane, and Garrison felt his left leg ripped out from under him. He clung with all his remaining strength to the wrist strap as the plane began to taxi, and struggled to get to his feet before he could be dragged. Strong hands clutched him by the arm and lifted him toward the door. He scrambled aboard and collapsed on his stomach, feeling the liftoff push him against the deck. He lay there for a moment, dripping wet and gasping for air, waiting for his heart to slow, until he could push himself over on his back. Again, a strong grip on his arm helped him up and into a jump seat. Finally looking around, he saw Goniff huddled across from him, pulling a blanket around the shoulders of their quarry, trying to ease her hysterical sobbing. Casino was still dazed and slumped in the jump seat on her other side.

"Warden, your leg..." Actor was next to him, already tearing his bloody pant leg away from the gash above his left knee. He hadn't felt it, didn't feel it now, but he knew he would.

As Actor snapped open the first aid kit and pulled out bandages and sulfur powder, Garrison watched Casino across the aisle. "How is he?"

"He'll live." Actor gently dabbed blood away from the open cut and began wrapping gauze tightly. The plane shuttered violently as it hit an air pocket in the storm. "But Chief is still..."

"I know. Not now," Garrison said.

"Warden, if Chiefy's 'urt..." Goniff this time.

"I said not now."

Casino stirred, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings and the roar of the airplane engines, and his eyes found Garrison's. "You bastard! You dirty, rotten bastard!" He leapt from his seat and lunged at Garrison, but Actor intervened.

"Take it easy, Casino..."

Casino pushed against the tall Italian, trying to get at the target of his rage. "You left him there! You just left him there. He could be hurt. He could be bleeding out there in the woods, and you just left him!"

"I had no choice..."

"You had a choice! We coulda waited! You coulda let me go back for him. But he's expendable, right?! You can get yourself another wheel man, another lookout, another killer. What's one lousy half-breed kid to you anyway? They're a dime a dozen."

"Casino..."

"You left him..."

The adrenaline drained from Casino's anger as he collapsed back into his seat, realizing the futility of the situation. His dark eyes still glared across the aisle at Garrison. "Bastard..."