The Touch
Five men silently floated down landing strung out along the field. Garrison grabbed up his chute bundling it so he could hide it along the hedgerow. In the dim light he could see two men standing arguing. As he got closer he heard the voices. "That's enough," he yelled in a hoarse whisper. They turned and glared at him. "Get your chutes buried." They slowly obeyed. Damn them. They were going to get them all killed. Finally they converged on the far side of the field.
"We've lost the equipment bag. Somebody forgot to pack it out the door," started Casino.
"Don't look at me." replied Goniff. "It wasn't my stuff."
"Well I am looking at you."
"Shut up all of you. If there are any Krauts in the area, they'll know exactly where we are, if you don't shut up. We haven't got the equipment then we'll just have to improvise." At least there were no more comments. All their equipment was still on the plane. Command will have a hay day with this. They almost miss the plane, leave their equipment behind, what else could go wrong. Damn, he just wanted to get this done and go home, preferably without them.
According to the map, they were about a twenty minute walk down the road to the town where they were to meet their contact. They set off but within a few minutes they heard sound up ahead. Some one was coming. A gesture from Garrison and they all angled off into the brush along the side of the road. All was quiet until the three approaching soldiers were several feet away when Actor lurched bumping up against their leader almost knocking him over. The rustling of the twigs and dead leaves was loud enough to cause the soldiers to stop and aim their weapons. After a few tense moments they gave up and continued on their way. Once he knew they were far enough away he turned on the tall man. "What were you doing?" He didn't really need to ask but his anger needed an outlet.
"There was something trying to crawl up my pantleg." he replied tartly. "There are poisonous snakes in this area."
All Garrison could do was glare then turn and start walking again. Damn. He didn't need them. He could do this himself.
Finally they reached the contact place. The five men sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. Garrison, officially on watch, had stationed himself about twenty five feet away. He wanted to watch out for their contact and get the information without them hearing but close enough that the convicts of his unit could not escape. They had a few missions under their belts and he didn't think they would try but there was ever that suspicion. Why take a chance. There was only a half moon and it was periodically obscured by clouds so their chances of been seen were small but it also meant it would be harder for their contact to find them. He would have to be vigilant.
The youngest man sat quietly considering the question that had been plaguing him for days. The others were far enough away and apparently lost in their own thoughts that he might be able to get his answer without any one else hearing. If he and the Warden were all alone it would be better but that never happened so he had better ask now.
Garrison checked his watch for the third time. Their contact was late. With out his information they could go no farther. He was going to have to decide what to do soon. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the men rise and began to walk his way. It was the Guardian. Not entirely at ease with the man, he tried to predict what he was up to. He wasn't due to take the watch so what did he want? Not another problem he hoped.
Chief walked slowly up to his Handler. By now he knew he did not have to ask permission so he just blurted it out before he lost his nerve. "How come you never … uh…use me?" he asked quietly. Even to his ears he sounded nervous. Hating revealing that, he waited for the answer, keeping his eyes averted.
Garrison was on edge as it was, all he needed was another question, another problem. Couldn't these guys keep their minds on the mission. Frustrated by the past behaviour, nervous because of the contacts absence he reacted. "Go sit down and shut up and keep your suggestions to yourself."
Chief was shocked and humiliated. In surprise he looked his Handler in the eye, saw the rage and hatred there, and quickly ducked away. He moved back the way he had come and sat at the edge of the group, mortified. He had finally found someone who treated him decently, who he thought he could trust, so he had offered to do what he had so often been forced to do. Instead of appreciation he had been spurned and scorned.
On the outside he looked calm, detached but on the inside he burned. He wondered if the others had heard the exchange. Being so used to his abilities he sometimes forgot how little 'normal' people heard or saw. Feigning disinterest for a moment to get his racing heart and raging emotions under control he stole a glance at the others. Actor looked away just as he looked his way. He had probably heard or at least saw the exchange. Chief had to assume he knew something was wrong. Had he heard? Did he feel the same about his abilities as Garrison obviously did? Actor had approached him after he got clean of the drugs. He had asked about what he remembered while he was drugged. He then apologised for asking. There was no mention of his abilities then or since. He did know about what the Handler had done to him. That much he had figured out from that conversation. He had not brought that up again either. It was as if that had all been put in the past. Or had it?
Then it struck him, if Actor knew, did Garrison? Is that what Garrison had thought he was asking. He blanched at the thought as his stomach cramped and heaved at the thought of what he had done, what he had been forced to do, what had been done to him and now two of the others knew.
Actor watched everything as was his habit. A good con man was always aware of what was going on. Being aware allowed you to adapt to changing circumstances. He had seen the young Guardian approach their leader. Being the first Guardian he had ever been close to, he used the opportunity to observe. He knew the Guardian was leery of people, and rightly so, so when the young man approached Garrison he was keen to see why. They were too far away to hear but he saw Garrison's face as he reacted to what ever the Guardian had said. It was not a pleasant sight. Actor watched as the young man slunk away, moving to the outer edge of the group. What ever it was had not gone well for either of them.
The Lieutenant checked his watch one more time, then moved back to the others. They had been lounging, taking advantage of the break from walking, but first Actor then the others had picked up on his nervousness. They watched his approach.
Garrison had originally thought to make it sound as if he had just decided to move but from their faces he knew they wouldn't buy it. They knew there was a problem.
"Our contact is late. Something might have happened," he started to explain.
"What do we do now?" asked Actor.
If Garrison had not been so concerned about their missing contact or the cons fumbling he might have been pleased at his ready acceptance of facts and businesslike ways. "I want to move back and skirt around. See what I can pick up. I may have to go into town and have a look."
"Do you have any more details on our mission," then as an after thought, "other than what you told us?"
He gave the con man a look, assessing, then answered, not entirely truthfully, "No."
The group began to fall back. When they were about five hundred yards back he called a halt. "You stay here." After making eye contact with each one he continued. "I'll be back." He turned only to be stopped by Actor.
"Do you want someone to go with you?"
"No. Stay right here."
This time it was Goniff. "What if someone comes?"
"Hide."
"What if it's our contact?"
Thoroughly annoyed he turned back to face his unit and told them to "Just do it!" He quickly moved off taking his black mood with him. Incompetent fools. What he wouldn't give to have his old command back. His men knew what to do. They wouldn't sit there asking stupid questions. They knew. These guys were going to get themselves killed. Serve them right. Then he could get back to commanding real soldiers.
Garrison made his sweep but found no sign of their contact or why he was missing. He returned to the glade where he had left his men but there was no one there. He waited. After a minute the moon reappeared and in it's thin light he saw Actor rise from the brush and as if that was the signal the others also returned to the glade.
"Lieutenant," the whispered voice, insistent.
Garrison's eyes opened but he could see nothing. Then a dark shape appeared.
"Lieutenant. There's someone comin'." It was the Guardian.
Once he knew their leader was awake Chief backed up. It didn't pay to stay too close to him. The man was dangerous. He would not forget how he had taken Wheeler down. He watched as he rose then moved off leading him in the direction where he had heard the voices. By now they were closer.
Garrison move silently behind the Guardian as he led him to the north about fifteen feet past the other men. When he stopped Garrison listened. It took a moment before he heard the sound. A rustle, then a clink of metal on metal, then footsteps. Was it their contact or was it the enemy? It was too dark and the brush was too thick to be able to see. He motioned to the young man to retreat.
Once they were back far enough he stopped.
"Wake the others and stay here. I'm going to see if I can get a better look."
"They're armed."
"They? How many? And how do you know?"
"I can smell their guns." The answer was tentative. Chief was not sure how this information would be received. Some people got real upset if you knew something they didn't.
"Can you tell how many?"
There was no immediate answer just the sound of air exhaled quietly.
Chief considered his options. He could offer but would he be rebuffed again? Garrison was asking for something he could answer if he helped him. Listening for heartbeats at a distance was to risk losing himself. Without someone there he could get lost. He dropped to his knees.
Garrison saw the Guardian kneel. He remembered Iamello showing him how to put his hand on the Guardians head in order to 'work him' but when he did he felt the man flinch and he pulled his hand away. Just the image of what he was doing bothered him, the position they were in, having a man kneeling at his feet. Thoughts of Iamello brought back the images of what Actor had told him of what he had heard. Even just the thought of putting his hand on the Guardians head like you would a child or a dog was repugnant. He could not do it.
"Get up," he said brusquely keeping his voice low.
"I can help." He had sworn he would never offer his help. He would die first but for some reason that he would ponder later, he made the offer.
"I said get up," This time there was more anger in the tone.
FOOL', the young man thought to himself. He doesn't want you. He never wanted or needed you. You have belittled yourself for nothing. YOU STUPID WORTHLESS HALF BREED DOG.
Garrison took a deep breath. He needed the Guardian's help. They might be able to escape on their own but they might also be caught. Now was not the time to be proud. Just figure out how to do this and get it done. "Is that the only way it works? With you on your knees?" His tone was abrupt though he tried to say it without anger. He was angry at the system not the Guardian.
Chief was confused. "No," he said tentatively. How could he explain so it didn't sound so … Goyen hadn't explained she just did it and it worked. To save them he would have to reveal his deepest secret. He could take it to his grave which would be very soon or he could tell the one person who treated him normal except when it came to his abilities.
"If I listen too hard then I forget and get lost so if you, uh," he exhaled the breath he could no longer hold. He took several breaths before continuing. "I need to feel your touch so I don't forget how to get back." There he had said it. He needed. He hated needing, but there it was out in the open. Now Garrison would know how to control him. Deny what he needed til he did as he was told. He had had no other choice.
"So as long as I touch you, it works?" He sounded sceptical. "Does it matter where?"
"Your hand on my shoulder or my arm," he suggested tentatively.
"Does it matter where I stand?"
"Behind my shoulder," he whispered. He was scared. What if it didn't work? What if only Goyen could do it this way? He had to take the chance.
Garrison was unsure about putting his hand on the Guardian. He had to admit that putting his hand on the man's shoulder was preferable to his head. That position put him in mind of a priest blessing an innocent child. He was no priest and Chief was no innocent child. He moved into position and carefully placed his hand on the Guardian's shoulder but immediately pulled away when he felt the flinch. Damn.
Chief had waited for the dreaded touch and the pain it would bring. So expectant was he, that he flinched when he felt the touch.
The Guardian remained standing still so he again placed his hand on his shoulder. His time there was no motion. He waited.
Chief reached out and listened. He inhaled through his open mouth and tasted the air then pulled back. He was all right. It had worked. He smiled knowing it was too dark for anyone to see.
"There're twelve soldiers and they're searching. They're over closer to the stream but …, they'll be comin'." Garrison had removed his hand when Chief began to speak. Now he turned and the two stepped back to the camp.
"Let's go."
The five men quickly left hurrying away into the darkness. In his eagerness to escape, Garrison put the encounter out of his mind. In truth it was not something he wanted to repeat.
Chief was pleased that he had been able to help. He had not been asked, begged, or coerced. He had offered and had been accepted. He felt good about his abilities for the first time in a long time.