THE HAPPY FAMILIES RAID
Actor pushed the door of their hotel room open and froze, his hand flying to the gun concealed under his jacket as he realised that there was someone sitting in the darkened room.
"Come in, gentlemen." The voice that invited them in was English, with the kind of accent that came from good breeding. Actor didn't relax, however, he knew all too well how deceptive an accent could be, and he felt the other three cons tensing at his back, ready for any trouble.
"What do you want?" the Italian demanded, flicking on the light, hoping to blind the stranger long enough to give them an advantage. "Who are you?" he added, curiosity colouring his voice as he realised that the man was wearing the uniform of a British army major.
"I want to know where Lieutenant Garrison is," the major said sharply, gesturing for the four of them to come further into the room.
"Garrison?" Casino exclaimed as he pushed the door shut behind him.
"Lieutenant Craig Garrison, your commander. Where is he?" the Englishman demanded again.
"What do you mean, where is he?" Casino exclaimed heatedly, looming over the seated officer threateningly.
"Just that," the major said coolly, searching the faces of the four men standing warily around the big room. "I was hoping you could tell me."
"Us?" This time it was Goniff who asked the question. "He was at the manor when we left!"
"I know that. What I want to know is where he is now," the major's voice turned steely, biting out the question.
"Major, I think you'd better explain just who you are and why you're so interested in the lieutenant," Actor told him, a disquieting feeling lurking in the back of his mind. Garrison had given them all a pass to go to London, a reward for several hard missions well done, first extracting a promise that there would be no trouble. That was fairly normal these days but they hadn't expected to find a strange English major waiting for them in their lodgings when they got back from an evening out on the tiles. Especially one who was demanding to know where their lieutenant was. Something was definitely wrong.
"Alright," the major sighed. "Sit down," he invited, slumping back in his chair slightly as the four cons looked at him suspiciously and then arranged themselves around the room, Chief taking up station by the window as usual. "I was hoping that Craig had told you what he was going to do. Hell, I'd hoped you'd all be with him." He sighed again, hand rubbing tiredly at his forehead as the headache that had been threatening all day suddenly started pounding away.
Actor studied the seated officer thoughtfully, the worry he felt concealed behind his customary mild expression. "Major, are you trying to tell us that Lieutenant Garrison has disappeared?" he queried softly.
The major nodded. "Yes. He had a twenty-four hour pass and told everyone that he was going to join you in London. He should have been back last night."
"We weren't expecting him," Actor said.
"Obviously. Oh, damn!"
"' Ere, you don't think he's in trouble, do you?" Goniff asked anxiously, his mind jumping to all sorts of horrible conclusions.
"Of course he's in trouble," Casino told him scornfully. "The Warden finds more trouble than you do. Question is, what and where?"
"What if he's hurt?" the blond thief added.
The major shook his head. "If you haven't seen him, I'm pretty certain that he's gone AWOL."
"AWOL? No way. Not the Warden," Chief exclaimed, coming to his feet sharply, gliding forward from his place on the window seat to lean over the officer, glaring at him hostilely. "He'd never go AWOL."
"Well he sure as hell isn't here or at the manor!" the Englishman snapped, returning glare for glare.
"Chief," Actor said sharply, that one word warning the Indian to back off. Chief held his look for a moment and then moved back to prop up the fireplace behind Casino's chair. "You said you were pretty certain that Garrison's gone absent without leave," Actor turned his attention back to the soldier. "Suppose you tell us what you do know. Who are you anyway?" he asked again.
"My name is Anthony Farrar and I'm with MI6," he started.
"What has British Intelligence got to do with Garrison?" Actor asked in surprise.
"Nothing. Not officially, anyway," Farrar admitted. "It's rather more personal. Craig is a good friend, we've known each other a long time," he explained. "One of my agents brought me a report from Germany that I thought Craig should know about. When I got to the manor they told me that Craig had gone to London. He was already overdue but no-one was particularly bothered. Hell, they all thought he was with you. As you haven't seen him either, I rather suspect now that he's already heard the news through his own sources."
"And you think he's gone to Germany," Actor finished.
Farrar nodded. "That's about it. Yes."
"That's crazy, man!" Casino exclaimed.
"I know but when has that ever stopped Craig?" The young major shook his head helplessly. "I don't know for sure that he's gone but I'd lay odds on it. He's probably half way across Europe by now."
"So, what are you going to do?" Casino demanded.
"Nothing. My hands are tied," Farrar raised his voice over their protests. "He's not one of my officers so I can't send any of my people out after him and I haven't any authority in the OSS."
"So you want us to go in and get him," Chief said it for him.
"You must know his contacts better than I do. You know how he works, who he'd go to for help," the Englishman explained.
"We're also expendable," Casino added tartly, remembering only too well just how expendable their own people considered them.
"If you want to put it like that, then yes, you are," Farrar answered bluntly. "But you're also free agents. You won't be AWOL. At least, not in the same way that Craig is. That gives you an advantage," the major continued persuasively.
Actor considered him thoughtfully for a moment. He wasn't altogether sure that he trusted this British major. There was something very strange about the whole matter, something that Farrar wasn't telling them. But, despite that, there was no denying that Garrison was missing and that their only link to him was through the major.
He gathered the other cons around him with a look. "Well?" he asked, sure already of their answers but giving them the chance to speak. Casino, especially, always turned sarcastic if he wasn't given his say in things.
"We can't just let him go into Germany on his own. He'll get himself killed," Chief said softly. Although the quietest and most insular member of the team, the bond between Chief and Garrison was strong. He always spoke up for the lieutenant first.
"You're as crazy as he is, y'know that?" Casino protested predictably but no more than Chief would he allow Garrison to be harmed. None of them would. It was strange but even though they all watched each other's backs, it was Garrison they were all most protective of.
"What happens if we don't go after him?" Goniff asked.
"He'll probably get himself captured or killed and we will go back to prison," Actor answered.
"Haven't got much choice then, 'ave we?" Goniff grumbled.
"The same one we always get," Actor conceded, knowing that despite their apparent reluctance, there was no question about whether they would go or not. Garrison meant far too much to all of them just to leave him. He was one of their own.
"So you'll go?" Farrar asked, not even trying to hide the relief in his voice.
"Of course we'll go," Casino said. "Don't we always?" he added in an undertone.
"Thank you. I wish I could go with you but I can't. My superiors won't allow it," he explained. "I asked."
"So now that we've agreed to go, how about telling us where," Actor asked, casually sitting back to light the pipe he had retrieved from the mantelpiece.
"Bregan. It's a small but well defended town on the German French border. We got word that a German colonel, Maxim Eberbach, was defecting but he got caught at the border."
"Not again," Goniff groaned. The major frowned in puzzlement but didn't ask. His only interest was in getting Craig and Eberbach back to England in one piece.
"He's being held in Bregan awaiting transport back to Berlin for trial and execution."
"Are you sure?"
Farrar shrugged. "As sure as we can be on information two days old," he answered Actor. "As far as my people could gather, the German commander is waiting for extra troops to arrive before sending him, just in case anyone tries to rescue him on the journey."
"So why has the Warden gone after him alone?" Chief asked.
"Craig has some strange notions of loyalty. I think he figures he owes Max. I don't really know. I do know that they met before the war when Craig and I were living in Germany for a time. Why he went alone..." he shrugged again. "Because he's crazy? Because he knew he wouldn't get official sanction for a rescue mission? Your guess is as good as mine, probably better. After all, I'm only one of his oldest friends," Farrar said, surprising even himself a little at the edge of bitterness in his voice. "I can't give you any official aid on this mission," he continued briskly, "But I can give you the names of some of my contacts. They'll do what they can for you, a safe house and an escape route, if nothing else."
"How are we supposed to get there in the first place?" Chief asked.
"The same way as the Warden probably," Actor said. "Pass me the telephone, Goniff," he requested, fishing his little black book out of an inside pocket. He flicked through it for a moment and then began to dial. "Hello? Josephine, darling, it's Cesare. How are you? Really? Listen, have you seen him lately? Uh-huh," Actor nodded. "I don't suppose you could do a repeat performance for us tonight? You could? Wonderful, I'll see you later then, darling. Bye." Actor replaced the receiver then turned his attention to the waiting men. "Garrison went across to France in a fishing boat from Folkestone early yesterday morning. Jo will take us across just before dawn if we can get there in time."
The Major stared at Actor in astonishment. "How did you know who took him?"
Actor shrugged. "I didn't for sure but I knew Jo owed the lieutenant a favour. It was a place to start."
"Amazing. I wish some of my people were half as good. Have you got contacts in France?" When Actor nodded he continued, "Right, there's a village about five miles from Bregan, contact the parish priest, Father Gui Forget. If Craig's made it that far, he'll have gone to Gui for help." Farrar got to his feet and shrugged into his overcoat. He pulled an envelope out of an inside pocket and handed it to Actor. "I've listed a number of my resistance contacts in that area with the current passwords. I know it's not much but that's all the help I can give you. Please destroy the list when you've read it." He opened the door but paused in the entrance, turning back a moment before leaving. "I don't really care about Eberbach but make sure you get Craig back in one piece. I'd really hate to lose him now."
Craig Garrison tried to sit up then groaned as his head threatened to fall off his shoulders at the movement. He slumped back against the floor and raised a cautious hand to his head. It came away covered in blood. He stared at it stupidly, for a moment not remembering how it had got there and then memory flooded back and he cursed himself for being such a fool. He should have known better than to fall into such an easy trap - he'd evaded far cleverer ones on missions before - but, then, everything he'd done in the last three days had been one big mistake after another, starting with his decision to rescue Max alone and culminating in the carelessness that landed him in prison, an unwilling guest of the Gestapo.
He pushed himself into a sitting position, back propped against the wall for support, his head in his hands as he fought the nausea that swamped him. It passed after a few moments and he was able to raise his head and take stock of his surroundings - a bare cell, perhaps ten feet square, with a single barred window well above eye level and a door he didn't have a hope of getting through without a key - or Casino and a picklock. All in all, it was depressingly familiar. He had seen the inside of far too many cells in the last couple of years since joining forces with the cons - not that he'd exactly been a stranger to them before that - but he was determined that after the war he would never see another one again. That determination, however, did nothing to improve his present circumstances. Nor was anything likely to. This time he really was in trouble.
If only he hadn't heard from Gui...
"MaxE attempt defection. Held at Bregan for trans to Berlin. Ex imminent." Craig Garrison scanned the crumpled flimsy, unconsciously chewing his lower lip as he considered the message yet again. It had come in over the radio earlier that morning, relayed by one of his contacts in France, marked for his eyes only. Even before he read it, alarm bells had been going off in his head - Gui had never marked a message like that before - but as soon as he read it, he knew why Gui had done so. Colonel Maxim Eberbach was a scrupulously honest Wehrmacht officer, well respected by both his men and his peers. His defection would be a big coup for the Allies and now that the Nazis had captured him, he would get no mercy. Execution imminent, indeed. The information warranted the priority message but the 'eyes only' status had been Gui's way of ensuring Garrison saw it because he was one of the few people who knew about the relationship between Craig and Max.
Garrison had gone straight to the colonel with the message, confidently expecting to be sent in to get Eberbach, but he had been firmly told, despite all of his arguments, that there would be no rescue mission. He had decided then and there to disobey Howlett's orders. There was no way he could allow Max to be taken back to Berlin for execution without trying to get him free.
His decision made, Craig considered recalling the Gorillas from London but dismissed the idea. He could certainly have made use of their talents, Actor especially, but he didn't want to land them in trouble and there would be trouble without a doubt, a lot of it. He had no illusions about that. Even if he managed to pull off the rescue his career was effectively over. He might manage to avoid a court martial if he was lucky but no doubt he would be busted down in rank. He didn't want to take the others down with him, they'd worked hard for their pardons. Nevertheless, Garrison felt he had to make the attempt. He owed Max that much at least.
To begin with everything had gone smoothly and according to plan. The colonel had given him a pass to join the cons in London for twenty-four hours R and R, so no-one would miss him until he was well out of the country. Getting across the channel to France had proved no problem either - Garrison numbered several fishermen with dubious reputations amongst his acquaintance and he knew enough about their smuggling trade to ensure free passage. Once in France it had been a simple matter to obtain papers and transport, the local resistance providing both as well as a German uniform that for once hadn't just been taken off a dead body. It wasn't until he reached Bregan that things had really started to go wrong and then everything fell apart so quickly he didn't have a hope in hell of getting away himself let alone rescuing Max...
"Are you sure this is the best way?"
Garrison finished buttoning up his jacket before answering. "It's the only way," he said dryly, casting a look at the other man. Although it had been several years since they had last met, not since before the war had started in fact, the older man hadn't changed a bit. Fifteen years older than Garrison and as dark as Craig was fair, there was something typically European about him and not only in looks. He had an air about him, a poise that was rarely seen in Americans, born of centuries of breeding and history. It was a poise that Actor shared. Craig had never understood why Gui had chosen the priesthood - he was one of Garrison's best contacts in western France and would have made a fine intelligence officer - but he respected the vocation and gratefully accepted any help the priest felt he could give without dishonouring his vows.
"Stop worrying, Gui, I'll be fine. I've played German officers before and you told me yourself that the town commander is expecting an SS interrogator," Garrison reassured him.
"I know," Gui sighed. "It's just that I can't help worrying. We might have intercepted the first request for assistance but what if he sent out another message?"
"It won't matter if he has as long as I get in and out first. Quit worrying. This is what I do for a living. How do I look?" he added, pulling on his grey uniform gloves, peering into the small wall mirror to make one final adjustment to the stiff high collar.
"Just like the real thing."
For a moment Craig thought wistfully of the cons. At moments like this it was usually Actor who was primping in the mirror and complaining about the terrible fit of the uniform and Garrison who told him he looked just fine as he was. Garrison wished, not for the first time, that they were with him but he banished the thought quickly. It was no use repining now.
"Then I'd better go. I should be able to get Max out of there today, so make sure you're ready this evening."
Gui nodded. "We will be. Take care."
The plan was simple really. The messenger that the German commander had sent out to request assistance had been intercepted by the underground and Garrison intended to get into the prison by pretending to be the awaited interrogator. As an SS officer he outranked the German colonel and he was counting on that fact to bully the man into releasing Max into his custody for transport back to Berlin. Garrison knew that the colonel would assign him an escort but he hoped to keep it to a minimum. A minimum he and Max could deal with.
Garrison had no trouble getting in to see the commander but, unfortunately, things didn't quite work out as planned. For a start the colonel was one of those very rare Germans who wasn't intimidated by the SS...
"I have my orders, colonel, not to release this man to anyone."
"As have I," Garrison snapped, beginning to get seriously worried. "Mine come direct from Berlin and supersede yours, sir. Perhaps you would like to check," he offered tartly, pushing the telephone towards the man seated behind the desk. For one horrible moment Garrison thought the German was going to call his bluff and pick up the receiver but just then the office door opened and another man entered. Half turning, Craig saw that it was the colonel's aide and relaxed slightly. No danger there and the interruption had served to distract the colonel from the telephone.
"No, I don't think that is really necessary," the colonel said, leaning back in his chair casually. "Do you, Lieutenant Garrison?"
Craig froze for a second, then his hand dropped to the gun holstered at his side but before he could draw the pistol his arm was grabbed and twisted painfully up behind his back, the muzzle of a gun jamming against his neck.
"You see, lieutenant, I know exactly who you are. My aide has had the pleasure of your company before. In Norway. I believe you shot him on that occasion," he said blandly.
Garrison swore to himself. He hadn't recognised the German lieutenant when they had met outside the office but that wasn't really surprising. He had crossed paths with a lot of German officers in the last couple of years and very few of them were all that memorable, it was just sheer bad luck to run into someone who knew him. Bad luck and very possibly fatal. Garrison raised his chin, glaring at the German as the man got up and moved towards him, refusing to be cowed.
"I think it's time for you to do a little talking, lieutenant," he said taking Garrison's gun from the holster and tapping his cheek with it.
Garrison flinched away involuntarily. "Go to hell," he said shortly and then had to bite back a yelp as his arm was jerked back painfully.
"That wasn't quite what I had in mind," the colonel said with a pleasant smile and then sharply back-handed him across the face.
Craig licked the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth away and felt his heart sink. He had been interrogated before and badly beaten on several occasions, but the colonel's smile chilled him. This was a man, totally amoral, who enjoyed inflicting pain.
"Guard!" The colonel waited for the guard outside the door to enter and then ordered, "Lieutenant, take our guest down to interrogation room two. I will be down shortly."
Craig probed the side of his face tentatively, trying to assess the damage inflicted on him by the two Germans. His whole body ached fiercely from the beating he had received but apart from the gash on his face, the rest of the damage was largely superficial, even his teeth were all still in place. Something about the interrogation bothered Craig. They knew why he was there, of course, but there had been no real attempt to extract any other information from him, no questions about codes or contacts or any of the things a covert operative might be expected to know about. They hadn't even wanted to know where the rest of his men were. It was almost as though they already knew everything about him. Or just didn't care. Either way, however, Craig knew that he was still in big trouble. The Germans shot spies out of hand. His only hope was that Gui and the local resistance would mount a rescue. If only the Gorillas were there.
"Father Gui?" Actor asked softly, moving to stand beside the solitary figure at the altar rail of the big village church.
The man looked up sharply at the unfamiliar voice, the momentary flash of suspicion quickly hidden by an expression of kindly enquiry, then nodded.
"What can I do for you, my son?"
"I've been sent by Anthony Farrar," Actor told him and saw the expression alter.
"Max?"
"And Craig," Actor confirmed. The priest took his arm and urged him towards the side of the church.
"We'll talk in the sacristy. No-one will overhear us in there," he added, nodding towards the few parishioners scattered about the church in various attitudes of prayer.
Actor allowed the priest to shepherd him into the small room and then turned to face him. "Where's Garrison?" he asked.
"Who are you?" Gui countered, unwilling to say anything more until he knew just who his visitor was.
"I'm one of Garrison's men. Major Farrar said the lieutenant would come to you for help. Now, have you seen him?" Actor demanded again.
"He's in Bregan," the priest admitted.
"Alone?" Actor queried sharply, trying to dispel the feeling that something was very wrong.
Gui nodded. "There was no-one who could go with him. He was posing as an SS colonel but something went wrong. We had arranged to pick him and Eberbach up a couple of miles west of Bregan last night," he explained. "When they didn't show I sent someone into the town. The Germans picked Craig up almost as soon as he got there."
"This was last night? And you've done nothing else?" Actor tried to keep the accusation out of his voice but failed.
"There was nothing else we could do. The underground isn't strong enough to snatch him from the prison and there is no-one who could con their way in," Gui said tartly, reacting to Actor's tone.
"What about you?" the conman demanded. "Farrar said you would help, that you were good."
"Do you think I don't want to go charging in there to get Craig out?" Gui said heatedly, pacing impatiently about the small room. "He's a friend, more than a friend, but I'm known in Bregan. I will not jeopardise the lives of my people here by getting involved. I can't. I'll do what I can to arrange an escape route for you if you think you can get them both out but don't ask me to do anything more."
Actor nodded curtly. Although it was an attitude he had run into several times before amongst the resistance, he still didn't like or understand it but he had learnt that he must accept it if he wanted any help from them at all. "Fair enough. The four of us should be able to pull off a con without much trouble. It's what we do best," he added confidently.
Father Gui smiled. "Funny, that's what Craig said. Where are the rest of your team?"
"Waiting just outside the village."
"Bring them to the rectory in half an hour. I'll get the man I sent into Bregan there and brief you all on what we know."
Craig Garrison stumbled as a forceful hand in the middle of his back shoved him forward into the small cell but he caught his balance before he fell, refusing to give his captors the satisfaction of seeing him sprawl flat on his face. It was bad enough that they had to half carry him away from the interrogation room for the second time. As the heavy door slammed behind him, he realised that he wasn't alone, that there was someone else in the cell watching him. He froze, for a moment believing that he was facing yet another interrogator but then he took another look at the man as he came forward into the light. He was in his mid-thirties, tall and slender but whip-cord strong, light brown hair cropped short except for the one lock that threatened to fall into his eyes and although he was dressed in a German uniform, Garrison knew that he was no more a part of that army than he himself was. In their game appearances were always deceptive.
"Dietrich," Craig greeted him.
"Garrison," the German acknowledged quietly.
They had first met years ago, introduced to each other by Max Eberbach the summer that Craig had spent with Max's family in Germany. Although unrelated by blood - Dietrich's uncle was Max's stepfather - the two young Germans had been very close, Hans having been taken in by his uncle's family after his own parents died during the first war. Dietrich had been a young cadet in the Wehrmacht then and it wasn't until they had unexpectedly met again a few months ago in England that Craig had learnt that Dietrich was an Allied agent and had been ever since Hitler's rise to power. He had spent the first few years of the war in North Africa, a captain in a panzer regiment but his cover had been blown just a few months before the Afrika Korps' defeat and he had had to run for his life, ending up attached to the SOE in England. He and Craig had met again when the Gorillas had been sent to provide backup for Dietrich on a mission in France.
"What are you doing here?" Dietrich asked the question before Garrison could.
Garrison moved towards the solitary cot and sank down on the end of it wearily, one arm cradling bruised ribs.
"The same as you, I'd imagine. Trying to rescue Max," he added as Dietrich just slanted a look of mild enquiry at him.
Dietrich frowned slightly. "Where are your men?"
"They're not with me," Garrison told him after a few moments.
Dietrich looked at him in mild surprise. "Who is then?"
Garrison avoided the German's probing gaze. "No-one," he admitted finally.
"No-one?" Dietrich parroted.
Craig sighed and forced himself to meet Dietrich's look. "I've got a contact in the next village, a member of the resistance. He got word to me that Max was in prison here. I asked permission to mount a rescue but it was refused."
"So you came anyway," Dietrich finished for him.
"I couldn't just leave him here!" Garrison protested sharply. "He's my cousin, for God's sake."
"Mine, too," Dietrich reminded him. "That's why I was sent in to get him out. With a team," he added pointedly.
"He's late," Sam Troy growled, raising the high-powered binoculars to anxiously scan the town again. "Something must have gone wrong," he added, half to himself.
"So what are we going to do, Sarge? We can't just sit here," Hitchcock protested, fidgeting with his cap. Since they were deep behind enemy lines it wasn't his trademark red Foreign Legion one - that would have stood out too far - but a German forage cap. As far as Hitch was concerned, it's only redeeming feature was the fact that it matched the rest of his current uniform.
"We're not going to but it won't help Dietrich if we just charge in without knowing what's gone wrong," Troy told the youngest member of the Patrol sharply, knowing all too well Hitchcock's feelings about Dietrich's part in this mission. He didn't like it either. It was crazy to send the former German officer into the heart of a Nazi stronghold with all the inherent dangers of being recognised but Troy and the rest of the Rat Patrol had been forced to acknowledge that there was no other way. While Moffitt spoke excellent German and had passed himself off as an officer successfully more than once, he didn't have nearly the experience or expertise that Hans Dietrich did. Besides which, the German colonel they had come to rescue knew and trusted the captain. Still, Troy couldn't help the gnawing worry. The respect and tentative liking they had forged whilst opponents in the desert had strengthened into genuine friendship in the months since they had started working together in Europe. Although Dietrich had no official standing in the American army he had been allowed to retain his nominal rank of captain and, after a period of being seconded to any covert action group who needed his services, had been given command of the Rat Patrol following the end of the war in North Africa and their subsequent return to Europe. To begin with, Troy had hated the idea of losing command of the Patrol to anyone but he had had it swiftly brought home to him that his new commanders would not tolerate the autonomy that he had enjoyed in the desert. An officer would be found to command the Rat Patrol, regardless of his own feelings. Troy had never been sure whether it was lucky coincidence that had assigned Dietrich to them or not but he had been too thankful to question it. He had always had an enormous respect for the wily German's abilities, a respect that had grown tremendously once he had learnt that Dietrich was an Allied agent but, more importantly perhaps, Dietrich knew them and how they worked. He was willing to give them a freer rein than most officers would.
Troy came out of his reverie to find three pairs of eyes fixed on him. He met Moffitt's with a slight grimace and read the amusement there. Jack knew exactly what he had been thinking about. It alarmed Troy sometimes that the Englishman could always read him so accurately.
"I think it's time to see whether our papers actually work," he told his fellow sergeant.
Moffitt nodded. "Better let me do the talking though, Troy," he smiled.
Troy didn't dignify Moffitt's dig with a verbal answer. They all knew that despite several months of intensive lessons, Troy could still barely string together even the most basic of phrases in German. He turned to Tully and Hitch. "You two stay here and keep your eyes open for trouble. If we're not back in an hour, don't follow us in, just get the hell out of here," he ordered, knowing full well that they would ignore the order if he and Jack got into trouble. They always did.
Troy stood up and handed the binoculars to Tully, tugging the strange uniform into place. Like Hitch, he missed his old desert uniform, feeling equally as uncomfortable in civilian clothes as he did in the Kraut uniform he found himself wearing more often than not these days.
"Okay, Moffitt, let's get going," Troy said, leading the way to the car they had acquired earlier in the day. He crunched it into gear and man-handled the heavy vehicle back out onto the road. For a moment he thought wistfully of the old jeeps and their big mounted guns but dismissed the thought. They might have been practical in Africa but the Germans hadn't stolen enough US Army issue jeeps to make using them in Europe possible. Like the desert uniforms, they would have been too conspicuous. Troy cast a quick look back over his shoulder towards the small wooded copse but couldn't spot either of the men still lurking there. Not that he had really expected to see Tully. The Kentuckian private was a born woodsman. Reassured, he turned back to the road and concentrated his thoughts on the job. Now, not only did they have to rescue the German colonel but it seemed likely that they would have to get Dietrich out as well.
Troy wondered, not for the first time, why they had been sent on this particular mission. Their speciality was demolition, not infiltration. As a rule, anything that needed a con was left to the experts and it had been obvious right from the start that their usual tactics of snatch and run wouldn't work unless they were very lucky. It could have been that they were the only team available but Troy rather doubted it. Dietrich was no less outspoken about the stupidity of his Allied commanders than he had been about the German ones but he had been very close-mouthed about the whole mission. Troy had the nasty feeling that the captain had been holding out on them but it was too late to worry about that now. First, they had to get past the guards on the gate and find out what had gone wrong.
He pulled the car to a stop at the barrier, barely restraining the urge to reach for his gun, and waited for the guard to approach.
"Papers, please."
Both Troy and Moffitt handed their forged papers over, waiting for the sudden alarm of discovery, and then breathed a silent sigh of relief as they were waved through after a cursory inspection. Troy parked the car in a back street and the two of them strolled towards the town centre and the German headquarters.
"The cafe?" Moffitt asked quietly, nodding towards the bustling place on the other side of the square. Troy nodded. Short of lurking around corridors at the HQ, the local bar was usually the best source of information. Soldiers tended to gossip readily over their beers, especially when someone else was buying it.
"See what you can find out and meet me back at the car in half an hour. I'll have a look around," Troy told him.
"Alright. Take care though, Troy," Moffitt warned and watched as the other sergeant disappeared around the back of the HQ building before heading towards the bustling cafe. Even at that time of day the place was busy and most of the tables were full so Moffitt propped himself up at the bar with a glass of warm beer and casually scanned the room, listening in to the nearest conversation, hoping to pick up something useful from the three soldiers seated at the table. He had been there barely five minutes when he heard exactly what he needed...
"It seems that the Germans have two Allied prisoners," Actor reported on his return from Bregan. Father Gui's man had told them everything he could about the prison and the town but Actor had wanted to see it for himself before coming up with a plan. "And you'll never guess who the other one is." When neither the priest nor the other Gorillas answered, he added, with a smile and the air of someone pulling a rabbit out of a hat, "Dietrich."
"Dietrich?" Goniff exclaimed. "As in Captain Dietrich?"
Actor nodded. "Uh-huh."
"Blimey! What's he doing here?"
"The Kraut colonel?" Chief suggested quietly.
"Oh sure, baby," Casino said scornfully. "Why else would he be here?"
"How should I know?" Chief glared at the safecracker.
"Hold it," Actor said sharply, halting the exchange before it could degenerate into yet another squabble between the two. "From what I gathered it seems that Dietrich went in this morning and tried the same con as the Warden."
"And they were expecting it," Father Gui surmised.
"Yes but that's the strange thing," Actor said thoughtfully. "They were expecting Dietrich. Not just a con but Dietrich himself."
"So this whole thing is a trap?" Casino asked slowly.
"I think so," the conman confirmed. "A trap to get Dietrich and the Warden just got caught up in it."
"But how did they know Dietrich would be coming? Anyone could have been sent in to get that colonel out," Chief pointed out.
Actor shrugged. "That's the other strange thing. No-one I talked to seemed to know anything about a Colonel Eberbach ever being a prisoner there."
"No, he was there. I saw him myself," Gui insisted. The four cons looked at him suspiciously.
"It was definitely him? A prisoner?" Actor queried.
"Yes." The priest was sure. "I've only ever met him a couple of times but I've seen enough photographs of him to be sure. It was Max Eberbach alright. I wouldn't have told Craig otherwise."
"You told him?" Chief said sharply. "Why? What is it about this guy that makes him so special?"
Forget was silent for a moment, deliberating his words. "How much do you know about Garrison's family?" he finally asked.
The Gorillas stared at him in surprise.
"That he's got one," Goniff quipped blankly.
"Well, yes, but nothing else? Anthony didn't tell you anything?"
"Why? Should he have?" Actor probed, curious to as to where Forget was leading.
"No but it would have helped explain why I told Craig about Max." The older man hesitated again. "Basically what it comes down to is that Craig and Max Eberbach are cousins through their mothers."
"The Warden's got a Kraut cousin?" Casino echoed.
"Blimey!" Goniff exclaimed again. "Is his mother a kraut then?"
"Goniff!" Actor rebuked sharply but couldn't deny that he was curious himself. Aside from mentioning a sister, Garrison had never spoken of his family at all.
"No, American. Not that you would have known it though."
"Why not?"
"Goniff." This time it was Chief who warned the irrepressibly curious thief. He was intrigued too but felt uneasy prying into Garrison's personal life. "How does Captain Dietrich fit into all this though?"
"Yeah, how did the Germans know he'd be coming?" Casino asked suspiciously, watching Forget closely.
"Max and he were brought up together after Hans lost both his parents during the last war."
"You know an awful lot about them," Actor commented.
Forget shrugged. "I've known the family most of my life," he explained simply. "If it was a trap for Dietrich," Gui went back to the original subject abruptly, "then the Germans must have been counting on someone informing the Allies."
The four of them looked at him.
"Do you think they suspect you?" Actor asked sharply.
The priest looked worried for a moment and then shook his head. "I don't think so. I haven't seen anyone hanging around or anything unusual in the village."
The cons looked at each other doubtfully. Despite being a man both Garrison and Farrar seemed to trust implicitly, none of the four of them felt at all easy around Forget. He knew too much about the whole affair and he still hadn't explained away the fact that the Germans had known Dietrich would be sent. Something was definitely not right but Actor decided not to push the priest any further. They had wasted enough time already.
"So they were counting on family ties to bring Dietrich to Eberbach's rescue and were ready for him when he arrived," Actor summarised. "And because they must have set it up so Dietrich would spring the trap, they knew Garrison had to be phoney."
"So how are we going to get them out?" Chief asked pertinently.
Actor thought for a moment and then smiled. "Through the front door. Father, if the German commander called the SS in this morning, where would they be coming from?" Actor shot the question at Forget.
"The nearest detachment is about thirty miles away," Gui answered immediately. "I have a contact in the town there. I can check whether they have left."
As Forget left the room Chief turned to Actor. "Do you trust him?"
The conman shrugged eloquently. "I don't know. The lieutenant and Major Farrar obviously do but..." he trailed off with another shrug. There was no need to point out that the Warden was now a prisoner in German hands and that the only person to have seen Colonel Eberbach as a prisoner was the priest. "It might be as well to have a few contingency plans," he finished.
"So how are we going to get the Warden out?" Casino repeated.
Actor smiled. "Garrison and Captain Dietrich went in as the SS officer the colonel requested, so I'll do the same. They'll never be expecting it a third time."
"Are you crazy? That'll never work, man," Casino protested heatedly.
"S'Right," Goniff agreed.
"No," Actor disagreed. "Think about it. They were waiting for Dietrich. Now they've got him, the colonel really will need the SS to take him back to Berlin. Don't forget, Dietrich is an important prisoner. They didn't go to all this trouble just to shoot him in the back in the middle of nowhere. They'll take him back to Germany for trial."
"Simple," Goniff said sarcastically.
"Of course," the conman agreed blithely. "All the best plans are. Don't worry, it'll work."
Neither Goniff nor Casino looked convinced but Actor was used to their scepticism.
"Was Dietrich the only prisoner?" Chief asked suddenly.
"Apart from the Warden, yes."
"So where's his team?"
"That's right," Casino exclaimed. "When he did that job with us he said he was getting a team of his own."
Actor thought back for a few moments. "Sergeant Troy and the Rat Patrol," he remembered. "He said it was ironic because they'd spent the previous year trying to outwit each other in Africa."
"So this Rat Patrol will be trying to rescue him, too?" Goniff asked. "Blimey, this could get confusing!"
Garrison jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and realised that he had been dozing. He opened his eyes, wincing as the left one refused to open more than a crack, and peered painfully up at Dietrich.
"What..." he croaked.
"Here." Dietrich reached for the water jug their captors had left them earlier and poured a cupful for Garrison. Craig swung his legs onto the floor and accepted the proffered cup gratefully. The water was none too fresh but he gulped it anyway, washing the taste of blood out of his mouth.
"We are going to have to get out of here," Dietrich told him quietly, sitting down close beside Garrison on the narrow bed.
"I know. It's been, what, three? four? hours since they got you."
"Almost five," the German corrected. "You slept for over an hour. My team will know by now that something is wrong and they'll be coming in after me."
"We could wait for them to spring us," Garrison offered. Dietrich shook his head.
"Unlike your Gorillas, my Patrol aren't good conmen. Sergeant Moffitt speaks excellent German and they've pulled off some incredible stunts in their time but subtle infiltration just isn't their usual style."
"And as the Gorillas are in England, it's up to us to get ourselves out of here."
"Don't forget Max either," Dietrich reminded him.
"I hadn't. Did you get any idea where he was being held?"
Dietrich shook his head again. "No, I was relying on him being brought to me."
"So was I but I did get a chance to have a quick look round first. If he's still here..."
"He must be. They haven't taken any prisoners out of Bregan recently," the German insisted.
"Then he must be in one of the cells down here." Garrison stood up and moved gingerly over to the door. His abused body had stiffened while he slept but as far as he could tell nothing was broken, only badly bruised. He peered through the small iron grill, trying to see into the other cells but both the cells and the narrow hallway they led off were too dimly lit for him to see much. He felt Dietrich come to stand at his shoulder and looked round at him. "What about the guards?" he asked softly.
Dietrich thought for a moment. "I only saw two at the end of the hall. That's the only way out of here so they obviously don't bother to post any more."
"Careless of them," Garrison murmured.
"Very," Dietrich agreed dryly, meeting Craig's look with a small grin of his own, each of them reading the other's thoughts easily.
"Create a disturbance, get them in here and jump them," Garrison suggested.
"Check the cells for Eberbach and find a nice quiet back way out," the other finished. They looked at each other for a moment.
"There's not a chance of it working," Garrison decided realistically, wishing that he had Casino's talent with a picklock. His thoughts turned to the Gorillas and he wondered what they were doing right then. Knowing them, they were probably enjoying his unexpected absence, causing havoc at the Doves and driving the sergeant-major crazy with their antics. Though he had been reluctant to take them on in the first place, every time he did one of his now rare solo jobs, Garrison found that he missed them. They drove him crazy with their almost constant bickering and odd jobs on the side but he would have given almost anything to see their faces right then. But there was no hope of that. Even if they had wanted to come after him, and he wasn't too sure that this time they would have, there was no way the brass could have let them. If they'd even worked out where he was.
"I know," Dietrich agreed with a sigh, breaking the depressing train of his thoughts. "But what other choice have we got? We can't just sit here and wait for the SS. If you're lucky they will shoot you out of hand as an enemy agent. Neither Max nor I will be so fortunate," the German ended bleakly.
Craig laid a compassionate hand on his shoulder. "They know who you are then?" Although they had been alone in the cell for several hours, Dietrich had said very little about how he had come to be there, only that he had tried the same approach as Garrison and had been tumbled.
""They were waiting for me. I must have been recognised in the town because they picked me up as soon as I walked into the colonel's office."
"And they didn't question you?" Craig asked thoughtfully. Dietrich shook his head.
"No, they just threw me straight in here."
Craig moved back to the bed and sat down again. "There's something not right here," he said softly, more to himself than to the other man.
"Oh?" Dietrich joined him.
"I was recognised by the colonel's aide from a mission we did in Norway. They know that I'm an agent and that I came for Max but when they interrogated me, they hardly asked me anything. And the second time, they didn't even make any pretence of questioning, just knocked me around. Now you say they didn't interrogate you at all." Craig shook his head in confusion. "It just doesn't add up. There's something I'm missing."
"I know," Dietrich concurred again, running a restless hand through short cropped hair. He prowled to the door again, straining his eyes to see through the gloom. It was only mid afternoon but already the day was drawing in, the bright autumn sun having disappeared more than an hour ago. It would be Christmas in six weeks and another year of war would be almost over. He wondered what changes 1944 would bring. This last year had certainly brought a lot. Last November he had been in North Africa and his biggest worry had been whether he could keep both himself and the Rat Patrol alive without blowing his cover. Now he seriously wondered whether he would even live to see the new year.
Hans Dietrich shook himself mentally. He wasn't usually so pessimistic but being in the cell reminded him painfully of the hours he had spent in that one in Tunisia in the spring, waiting for the Gestapo to discover that he was Jade, one of the most wanted Allied agents in the desert. The Rat Patrol had rescued him then against all the odds and he kept trying to tell himself that they would pull off another miracle now. Dietrich wasn't sure he believed it though. Oh, they'd try - Troy would make sure of that and even if he didn't, Mark certainly would - but this wasn't Africa with its wide open spaces and sparse population. This was the heartland of Nazi Europe.
Dietrich caught the faint sounds of voices and movement at the end of the hall and glanced down at his watch. It was too early for the guards to be changing. Something must be happening.
"Garrison," he called sharply. Craig was at his side in an instant, both watching the corridor intently. Footsteps sounded and the indistinct form of one of the guards came down the gloomy hallway towards their cell. Dietrich's instincts told him that there was at least one other man still standing guard at the far end of the corridor but the quick glance he shared with Garrison also told him that the American knew as well as he did that this was probably their best chance for escape, if only they could draw both men into the cell.
"Bastard!" Garrison launched himself at Dietrich, catching the other man by surprise with the suddenness of the attack but the German recovered quickly, realising what Garrison was attempting to do. He joined in the mock fight, enthusiastically cursing the younger man but trying desperately not to hurt him any more than he already was while still making the brawl realistic enough to bring both guards into the cell to break up the fight. For a few awful moments he thought that the ploy wasn't going to work but then, as he and Craig were grappling on the floor, Dietrich heard the grate of a key in the lock.
"Ready?" he whispered harshly, imperceptibly shifting his weight so that he was no longer pinning Garrison to the floor.
Craig, peering up over his shoulder, saw the door open and kicked out as soon as the first man was in range, sweeping his feet from out under him and bringing him to the floor with a thud. He scrambled to his knees and flipped the man over onto his front, pinning him to the ground with a knee planted firmly in the middle of his back. There was some muffled squawking but Craig ignored it, his attention fixed on the other guard, standing momentarily frozen in the doorway, the dim light from the hallway casting his face into shadow. Dietrich sprang from his place beside Garrison and, grabbing an arm, roughly dragged the soldier into the room. He stumbled over his outstretched compatriot but recovered nimbly before Dietrich could drag him down, too.
"Warden!"
Craig's head shot up and he stared at Dietrich's prisoner incredulously as a familiar voice shrieked his name.
"Casino?!" He shook his head in amazement, hardly able to take the safecracker's presence in. "What are you doing here?"
"What d'ya think, baby?" Casino retorted sarcastically. "Rescuing you."
The man under Garrison's knee squawked again indignantly and Craig hastily moved away, offering the unfamiliar blond a hand to get up.
The youngster brushed himself down and grinned endearingly at Dietrich. "Hans," he greeted. "Private Mark Hitchcock," he introduced himself to Garrison who automatically shook the outstretched hand.
"How the hell did you get here?" Garrison directed the question at both men. "And where are the others?"
"Tully and Goniff are standing guard down the hall, Chief's with the truck and Actor, Moffitt and Troy are seeing the colonel," Hitch reported.
"What are you all doing here? Together, I mean?" Garrison queried again.
Casino and Hitch shared a look and a grin. "Well, I'll tell you, baby but we better get out of here first," Casino said.
Dietrich nodded. "Where to?"
"Only the end of the hall. You can hide in the guardroom until we hear from the others," Hitch told them, leading the way.
"Hold it!" Garrison exclaimed suddenly. "Max," he explained as the other three turned to stare at him. "What about Eberbach?"
"Not here," Casino said shortly.
"Not here?" Garrison echoed. "Then where?"
Casino shrugged. "We don't know. That's what Actor is trying to find out from the colonel," he told Craig.
They came to the end of the hallway and, as they entered the brightly lit guardroom where Tully and Goniff waited, Casino got his first good look at the lieutenant. "Christ, Warden, they really put you through the wringer, didn't they?" he exclaimed.
"Ere, Warden, sit down," Goniff said anxiously, taking Garrison's arm and steering him towards a chair.
"Good to see you, Goniff." Craig sank down gratefully with a slight smile that rapidly faded as the bruised muscles of his face protested.
"You alright, captain?" Pettigrew asked Dietrich, his eyes doing a quick examination of the officer.
Dietrich nodded. "They didn't touch me. Now, how about that explanation?" he requested, taking the chair next to Garrison's.
"I'll go keep watch," Tully said. "Hitch and the others will tell you."
"Well?" Garrison prompted as Pettigrew moved to take up post just outside the door. "I take it Colonel Howlett sent you in?"
Casino and Goniff both avoided his look.
"He didn't send you," Garrison concluded, seeing through both his men easily.
"You can talk, lieutenant," Goniff protested. "You went AWOL yourself."
It was Garrison's turn to look away, unable to refute the thief's accusation. "That's got nothing to do with it."
"No?" Casino questioned.
"I didn't want any of you involved in this," Garrison said harshly.
"Oh, why not? We're not good enough to mix with your family?"
"It's got nothing to do with that, Casino and you know it," Craig exclaimed, faintly surprised that the Gorillas obviously knew about his relationship to Max Eberbach. "They could send you back to prison for this," he explained softly.
Goniff just shrugged, his hurt feelings mollified by the Warden's words. "They would anyway without you. 'Sides, we couldn't let you rescue some Kraut colonel all by yourself."
"How did you know where I was if Howlett didn't tell you?"
"We got a visit in London from a friend of yours. A Limey major called Tony Farrar."
"Anthony?" Garrison echoed thoughtfully, understanding now how they knew about Max. "Figures. Go on."
"He wangled us a trip across to France and we just followed you. We met the priest in the village and he told us the rest," Casino summed up.
"What about Troy?" Dietrich asked. "How did you meet up with them?"
Hitchcock's eyes sparkled mischievously as he remembered the meeting earlier. "Over the barrel of a gun," he told his cousin with a grin.
"What?" Garrison said.
"Yeah," Casino confirmed. "They sorta held us up..."
Hitch shifted his grip nervously on the machine gun again, wishing he didn't feel quite so exposed crouching half-hidden in the undergrowth at the side of the road. Not that a sand dune had ever given him any cover but, even after almost five months, he still felt uncomfortable working in Europe. He supposed that he would get used to it eventually but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling. The feeling almost of inadequacy. In the desert they had been acknowledged by both sides as the best but here in Europe it was a different kind of war and they were just one group amongst many. Ordinarily it didn't bother him quite so much but this time it was Dietrich's life at stake and they couldn't afford to fail.
He sensed the presence behind him a scant moment before Troy joined him.
"Okay?" Troy asked, his glance not missing the nervous fidgeting.
"Sure, sarge," Hitch assured him, willing himself to relax.
Troy saw the effort and smiled. The kid would be alright once the action started. It was just the waiting that jittered him. He felt the same way.
"Remember, don't open fire unless you have to. We just want them stopped, not dead."
Hitch nodded in understanding. Moffitt had discovered on his second trip into Bregan that the German colonel had requested an SS escort to take his prisoners back to Berlin. Troy had decided the best way to get into Bregan and rescue Dietrich was to impersonate the escort so they had set up an ambush. The only minor problem was that they needed not only the staff car but the uniforms as well, so they had to stop the car without killing any of the soldiers. It meant taking extra risks but there was no way around it. The SS officer had to be at least a major.
Troy laid a brief, reassuring hand on the youngster's shoulder and then was gone, heading for his own place on the other side of the road. Moments later, Hitch heard the faint rumble of an engine and waited anxiously for the car to come into view around the sharp bend in the road. They had chosen that particular site because the corner afforded them not only a certain amount of privacy but also an element of surprise.
As the first vehicle rumbled around the bend, Hitch shot a quick look at their trap. Even with surprise on their side, the four of them weren't enough to simply jump the Germans so Moffitt had come up with the idea of using their car to block the road, pretending that it had broken down. If all went according to plan, the Germans would be off guard and the Patrol would be able to take them fairly easily.
The staff car pulled to a halt level with Hitchcock's hiding place, followed by the truck, and he was able to get a good look at the passengers. There was only a driver in the truck but the back was covered and he couldn't tell if there was anyone else inside - he certainly hoped not - while there were three men in the car, the officer lounging in the back and two troopers in the front. He watched as Moffitt left Tully peering under the car's bonnet and approached the staff car, stopping beside the officer and saluting. The German returned the salute casually and listened to Moffitt's request for help. The colonel nodded and leant forward to tap his driver on the shoulder, gesturing him towards Tully. The man paused for a moment, glanced back at the truck but then went forward to help.
As the German driver reached the car, Pettigrew span round, one hand grabbing for the man's arms and pulling him back, using his body as a shield, his gun jamming in the man's side. At the same moment, Moffitt pulled his own gun and pointed it at the colonel while both Hitch and Troy burst from their hiding places and covered the remaining Germans. There was a moment of frozen silence as they all stared at each other and then Tully yelped with pain as the man holding him suddenly lashed out, ignoring the gun in his side. Distracted by the commotion, Moffitt glanced away from his prisoners for a split second but that was long enough for the soldier remaining in the front of the car to come to his feet and take a flying leap at the Englishman, knocking him to the ground. Both Hitch and Troy started forward to help, forgetting the last man still in the truck, but were forcibly reminded as Hitch had to dive back into the ditch to avoid getting shot. They might have been surprised but the Germans were certainly putting up one hell of a fight, a fight Hitch had the nasty feeling they just might win unless the Patrol started shooting. Having made that decision, he was just about to open fire when the German colonel leapt to his feet.
"Wait!" he shouted, holding up his hand. "Stop," he yelled at the man struggling with Tully.
Troy stared at him open-mouthed as he realised that the colonel had spoken English and, although the accent was strong, it wasn't German. He approached the car warily, gun held ready for action but the colonel just sat down again, calmly lighting a cigarette, only the slight tenseness of his body betraying his own emotions. Troy was aware of Hitch and Tully approaching, both at gunpoint, and of Moffitt scrambling to his feet but his attention was held by the colonel. He studied the officer carefully, admiring the man's sheer guts when any minute he could be killed. He was a tall man, easily topping Troy by a good six inches, black haired and darkly handsome. Very suave, Troy judged, feeling his hackles rise.
"Sergeant Troy, I presume." The man spoke confidently and Troy could feel his own shock being echoed by the others.
"Troy? Gor blimey!" the slight blond man holding Moffitt swore. "Don't tell me..." he stammered to a halt, looking between Troy and the seated officer.
The colonel raised a hand and rubbed at his forehead, trying to quell the incipient headache. "Captain Dietrich's Rat Patrol," he confirmed.
"Do I know you?" It wasn't what Troy had meant to say but he was so astonished by the blonde's cockney accent and the colonel's attitude that everything else went out of his mind. The dark man slowly shook his head.
"Colonel Isaacs, codenamed Actor," he introduced himself. "Goniff. Chief. Casino," he continued, gesturing to the others. "We are special forces." He spoke slowly as though explaining to a child. "Your captain worked with us a few months ago," he explained.
"Special forces?" Troy was still wary. "Why are you here?" he asked suspiciously.
"My lieutenant is in Bregan. Probably in the same situation as Dietrich," Actor said dryly. "We're here to get them out and Colonel Eberbach, if he's there."
"You were sent in to get Eberbach out?" Moffitt asked surprised. "We weren't told a second team had been sent in."
Actor shared a conspiratorial look with the other Gorillas. "Nor were we," he said pointedly, deciding that Sergeant Troy didn't need to know they were there without orders. Garrison was in enough trouble with Command already without involving strangers, too. "That's neither here nor there," he said briskly before continuing, "I take it you were intending to go into Bregan as SS?"
"You could say that," Troy agreed with a faint grin. "What happened to the real ones?" he asked, gesturing towards Actor's uniform.
"In a ditch a few miles back," Casino told him bluntly, his tone abrasive.
"Are we going to rescue the Warden or stand here all day?" Chief put in, his concern for Garrison showing clearly in his tone.
Actor ignored him, too intent on inspecting the four members of the Rat Patrol to bother answering. "Do any of you speak German?"
"Moffitt does fluently," Troy answered. "And Hitch speaks some."
"And you?" Actor asked, puzzled to see Moffitt hurriedly stifling a smile. Troy shook his head. "Well, at least your uniforms will suffice."
"Here, Actor, are they coming with us then?" Goniff asked, a cheeky grin appearing on his face.
Actor looked an enquiry at Troy. "Well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the sergeant.
"Do we have much choice?" Troy asked rhetorically. "It's the only way to get Dietrich and..."
"Garrison," Actor supplied as Troy paused, realising he didn't know who their lieutenant was.
"So let's get going then. Hitch, Tully, ride with the truck. Moffitt, you're with us," Troy decided, moving to the front of the car.
"Goniff, ride with Casino," Actor ordered, seeing the thief's questioning look as the American sergeant took his place. "One thing, Troy. This sort of mission is our speciality, so you follow my orders when we get in there," he ordered firmly.
"Yes but..." Troy began to protest, unhappy with the thought of ceding command to the other man.
"I outrank you, sergeant," Actor cut in pointedly, noting Chief's almost imperceptible amusement at the continuing con. "If you can't take orders I'll leave you here," he threatened harshly. "I will not risk two men's lives for the sake of your pride."
Troy glared at him but finally conceded defeat with a begrudging nod. He didn't think the older man was bluffing. Besides, he could always take over later. "Okay."
"Good." Actor offered him a smile, inwardly certain that at the first sign of trouble Troy would forget all about that agreement. The man would bear careful watching. "Here's the plan..."
"I wish I'd been there to see that," Garrison said, trying hard not to smile. He had heard all about the Rat Patrol and Sergeant Troy's aversion to authority when he had served those months in North Africa and would have loved to have seen Actor pulling rank. God knows, Actor did it to him often enough.
"So do we," Casino put in pointedly.
"Drop it, Casino," Garrison warned with an inward wince, wondering whether the Gorillas would ever let him live this mission down. Supposing, of course, that he didn't end up sharing a prison cell with them, courtesy of a US army court-martial.
"So what now?" Dietrich asked, bringing them all back to the mission in hand.
Garrison shrugged, wincing at the pain the action caused before saying, "We wait for the colonel." As Dietrich raised a sardonic brow, Craig continued, "Don't worry. Actor's one of the best. He knows what he's doing."
"Hey, Warden, how did the Jerries get hold of you?" Goniff asked suddenly.
"One of them recognised me from that job we did in Norway," Craig told him absently, suddenly aware of the silent communication between his two men. "Okay, let's have it, guys. What aren't you telling me?"
"Oh, nothing, lieutenant. Nothing at all," the cockney thief assured him airily. Garrison frowned, unconvinced. Goniff only called him lieutenant in that particular tone of voice when he was trying to weasel out of something.
"Goniff..." he growled but was cut off as Tully stuck his head around the doorway.
"Someone's coming."
Hitchcock grabbed his rifle and helmet and went to join Tully out in the corridor, leaving the others to flatten themselves on either side of the open doorway, hoping to remain hidden from whoever was approaching.
"Gun," Garrison hissed at Casino standing behind him and felt the safecracker press a revolver into his hand. He cocked it, absurdly comforted by the familiar weight. They waited in tense silence for a few moments but then Dietrich, peering carefully around the door-frame, relaxed as he spotted the familiar gangly figure of Jack Moffitt.
"Captain," Moffitt moved into the guardroom, acknowledging Dietrich's presence with a quick smile, relieved to see that he was unhurt. "Lieutenant Garrison. You've been summoned to the oberst's office." At their look of enquiry he added, "Unless the Jerry has got a good poker face, it looks as though Colonel Isaacs has convinced him that we're the real thing."
Garrison breathed a silent sigh of relief. He hadn't really doubted Actor's ability but, as he himself had discovered, there were always random factors. "What about Eberbach?" he asked as the Englishman led them upstairs.
"Not here," Moffitt said briefly, prevented from saying anything else as they left the prison area in the basement of the building and started along the more populated corridors. They reached the office and Moffitt rapped on the door, gesturing for Tully and Hitch to remain on guard outside, before he and the two Gorillas ushered their prisoners into the room.
"Come in, gentlemen," the German officer invited, switching to English. "Let me introduce you to Oberst Schlessinger of the SS. He will be escorting you to Berlin to answer for your crimes," he said almost smugly. Dietrich ignored him contemptuously, staring icily over his head, refusing to be cowed.
Garrison risked a look at Actor sitting at the side of the desk, casually smoking, resplendent as always in his stolen uniform, another man, presumably Sergeant Troy, standing at his back. The conman didn't acknowledge the look openly but Garrison recognised the warmth in his eyes, reassuring him that all was well.
Actor ground out his cigarette in the desk ashtray and stood up, pulling on his gloves. "Very well then, colonel, I will take over from here. Major, take the prisoners to the car," he ordered Moffitt sharply.
"You have an escort?" the German asked as Casino and Goniff pushed the two officer towards the door.
The conman turned back to look at him. "Of course," he said shortly, hoping that the man wouldn't offer to send some of his own men with them.
The colonel, realising that he had somehow offended, made haste to explain. "The Maquis is active in these parts. They may try to rescue the prisoners."
"The SS do not lose their prisoners," Actor told him icily and saluted briskly, waiting expectantly for the other man to return it before following Troy out of the room.
They left the building unchallenged, the distinctive grey uniforms keeping everyone at a distance. Garrison paused for a second as they came out into daylight, eyes watering at the glare. He had been a prisoner before but not like this time. For a while he had honestly thought that he had had it, that the phenomenal luck that had kept him alive and free so far had finally run out. He hadn't expected the Gorillas to defy everyone and change the odds for him.
He felt a gently pressure on his elbow and started forward again, walking down the steps to where Chief waited with the car and truck.
"Warden," Chief greeted him softly, the dark face showing only a hint of the emotion the Indian was feeling.
"Chief," Garrison returned before he and Dietrich were hustled into the back of the truck by Goniff and Pettigrew, Casino and Hitch heading for the cab.
Craig was tense as the truck rolled out, expecting to hear the order to stop at any minute followed by gunfire but all was quiet, Actor's silver tongue taking them through the check points without a problem. They drove for a couple of miles before Casino pulled the truck off the main road and onto a pot-holed dirt track. After a few minutes they came to a stop and Garrison clambered down, his legs shaky, grateful to be on solid ground again.
"Hey, lieutenant, are you alright?" Chief asked seeing Garrison leaning against the side of the truck, bruises standing out starkly against his white face.
Craig looked around slowly. They had stopped at what had once obviously been a farm but it had fallen victim to the war. The house was now little more than a burned out shell as was one of the barns but the other, although fire damaged, was more or less intact and big enough to hide both the truck and car.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured Chief automatically.
Chief, however, was not convinced and moved swiftly to help Craig into the barn.
Despite his half-hearted protests, Craig was secretly glad for the younger man's help. His head was pounding again and, after being bounced around in the back of the truck, he was feeling decidedly sick. He sank wearily onto a mildewed bale of straw and closed his eyes, fighting down the nausea. He heard the others moving around the barn but couldn't summon up the energy to open his one good eye to see what they were doing until he felt a gentle hand tilting his chin up.
Actor studied Garrison's battered face for a few moments, assessing the damage, surprised and a little worried by the lieutenant's passivity. "Any other damage?" he asked worriedly, his hand dropping to Craig's shoulder. Garrison shook his head. "Sure?" Actor persisted, knowing Garrison's cavalier attitude towards his own health.
"Actor," Craig growled warningly, shrugging off the hand. "I'm okay," he reassured them all, aware of the look that passed over his head between the conman and the other Gorillas. "Guys?" the soft spoken word stopped them as they moved away. "Thanks."
"It's nothing," Actor said for them all with a shrug and a smile.
"It's not nothing. It was stupid and risky," Garrison told them with some of his normal fire. "But I'm glad you came," he added, grinning at Casino's indignant look. He started to say more but broke off as the five members of the Rat Patrol approached. What he had to say was between himself and his team and, much though he liked and respected Dietrich, he and his men were still outsiders.
Troy looked at Actor. "Have you got a way out of here, colonel?" he asked abruptly.
"Of course," the conman told him shortly. "Our papers will get us to Metz and we have contacts there who will get us home."
"Hold on," Garrison interrupted. "What about Eberbach?"
Actor looked at Moffitt and then turned back to Garrison. "Colonel Max von Eberbach is currently on his way to Poland," he paused for a moment, trying to gauge both Garrison's and Dietrich's reaction. "To rejoin his unit," he finished bluntly.
Craig's tired mind worked through the implications of Actor's statement and he met Dietrich's eyes as several things that had puzzled them both finally dropped into place. "It was a trap them. I thought I knew him."
"So did I," Dietrich agreed softly, his accent more pronounced than usual.
"If it's any consolation," Moffitt butted in, "I don't think that Eberbach knew what was going on. The colonel was very proud of his plan," he added as both men turned to stare at him.
"From what he told us," Actor picked up the explanation, "it seems that he told Eberbach that there were fifth columnists in Bregan and they could be smoked out if he pretended to be a defector."
"Does that mean we can go home now?" Goniff asked hopefully. "If the Warden's cousin ain't here..."
"Your cousin!" Hitch exclaimed, realising that that made Garrison and Hans, and therefore himself, related in some sort of convoluted way.
Craig shot Goniff an exasperated glare - he could always rely on the thief to open his mouth at inopportune moments - but answered him anyway. "Yes, we can go home now but why Metz?" he asked Actor. "Gui can provide everything we need."
"Uh-huh," Actor said slowly, doubtfully. "I would prefer to by-pass the priest."
"Why?" Garrison asked. "Okay, what's going on? What aren't you telling me?" he queried sharply as none of the cons answered.
"Well, Warden, it's like this..." Goniff began reluctantly, shuffling his feet.
"We don't exactly trust him," Casino butted in bluntly.
"What?" Craig exclaimed incredulously. "He's one of our best contacts in western France."
"That's what you said about Destin," Chief reminded him. "And he turned out to be a Kraut spy."
"Maybe," Garrison admitted reluctantly, remembering the mission in France. "But I didn't know him. I've known Gui a lot of years. He's reliable," he insisted.
"It's not that we distrust him exactly," Actor put in smoothly, shooting a scorching look at Casino. "But it's safer to avoid the village. The Germans may be onto Forget. After all, their whole plan relied on Captain Dietrich hearing about it. They must have known that someone in Bregan would contact the Allies. And if they don't suspect Forget, we may just lead them to the priest."
Garrison was thoughtful for a moment. What the conman said made sense. "Then we have got to warn him."
"No," Actor snapped, earning himself a glare from Garrison. "We got you out of there once. I'm not going to let you go back again just to warn the priest," Actor overrode Garrison's splutter of protest. "If you insist, I'll ask one of the people in Metz to warn him but it's too risky to go back now."
Craig continued to glare at Actor but had to admit, reluctantly, that the conman had a valid point. Besides, Gui was no fool. He must know that the Germans suspected someone of being in the underground. "Alright, I'll do it your way," he conceded, too tired and sore to force the issue with Actor. The Italian would probably ignore him anyway and Garrison wasn't too sure if his already precarious authority over the group could survive another battering.
"If you're finished?" Troy put in pointedly, listening with some bafflement to the exchange, "Can we go before the Krauts get here."
The return journey from Bregan was uneventful, for once everything going according to plan, enlivened only by the barely veiled antagonism between Troy and Actor, an antagonism that had escalated sharply the closer they got to England and safety and was veiled only because Troy still believed that the conman was a senior officer. Garrison, suffering from the beating he had received at the hands of the Germans, had just let it wash past him, too dispirited to disabuse Troy of the notion, leaving Dietrich to keep the peace. It seemed all too likely that once they got home to England he would be relieved of his command anyway. He would probably be facing a court-martial that would, at best, see him cashiered from the army and, at worst, imprisoned.
Craig had expected to be hauled in front of Howlett the moment they arrived back at the manor but the colonel had been summoned to London on urgent business and Garrison had been left free to kick his heels, albeit constantly shadowed by a pair of MPs, alternating between bouts of depression and defiance. The Rat Patrol, still in a state of semi-hostile truce with the Gorillas despite Dietrich's efforts, had departed for their own base as soon as the fishing boat that had returned them across the channel had moored of the Kentish coast, so Garrison had even been denied the opportunity to discuss the expected court-martial with a fellow officer. He had considered talking to the Gorillas but dismissed the idea, not wanting to involve them any further in his trouble. He had tried to keep them at arm's length but, unfortunately for him, they knew him too well now to be put off by his growls and temper. Garrison only hoped that they had learnt their lesson from the last time he had been up before a court - that he didn't want them to pull any cons for his sake. He hoped but had a nasty creeping suspicion that something was going on. They had been too quiet since their return.
Craig tugged surreptitiously at his uniform jacket again, barely resisting the urge to run a distracted hand through his hair and made himself stand still, refusing to let his guards see just how nervous he was. He hated the waiting but suspected that the delay was deliberate on Howlett's part, just as he had been kept on tenterhooks since returning from France three days ago. He started as the door to the office opened suddenly and the colonel's aide stuck his head round the door.
"The colonel will see you now, lieutenant."
Garrison nodded and, giving his uniform once last tug into place, walked through to the inner office, his guards remaining outside and snapped crisply to attention in front of the big desk that dominated the room. Colonel Howlett ignored him, too intent on reading the contents of the file lying before him to acknowledge Garrison's presence. It was only when the last page was added to the pile already on the desk that he looked up and returned the salute. Craig dropped his arm thankfully, his abused muscles protesting the enforced salute.
The colonel leant back in his chair, hands steepled and inspected the young man standing in front of him. Despite being his commanding officer, Howlett had had very little personal contact with Garrison before now, leaving as he did most of the day-to-day duties to the major but he had heard stories about both the man and his team of convicts. Most were probably apocryphal and a number highly scurrilous but he couldn't deny that the unorthodox team was one of the most successful under his command and greatly respected by their fellows. And it was all due to this man, a man who, despite his family connections and North African decorations, was still a lieutenant. A superb intelligence officer but a lousy soldier was how his previous CO had described Garrison. Howlett was forced to agree with that assessment. The man was just as much a maverick as his cons, perhaps more so, if even only a few of the stories he had heard were true. It would be a pity to lose him just yet.
"What rank do you hold, Garrison?" he asked suddenly.
"First lieutenant, sir."
"First lieutenant," Howlett repeated. "And do you know what these crowns on my collar mean?" he continued sarcastically. "They mean that I'm a colonel and your commanding officer. And when I give orders, you obey them. Correct me if I'm wrong but did I or did I not refuse you permission to go to Germany after Colonel Eberbach?"
"Yes, sir," Craig agreed tonelessly as Howlett paused, waiting expectantly for an answer.
"And having heard my refusal you decided to go anyway. Once in Germany you then proceeded to get yourself captured and interrogated by the Gestapo, endangered the lives of a number of agents, got in the way of the legitimate team that was sent in to bring Eberbach out and finally had to be rescued by your own team who likewise went into Germany without orders. To add to that you failed to rescue Eberbach. I think that's a fair summary of your recent activities, don't you, lieutenant?" Howlett finished bitingly.
Craig flinched inwardly at the tone but seethed with the injustice of some of Howlett's accusations. Admittedly he had disobeyed orders and got himself caught by the Gestapo but as for getting in the way of Dietrich... He opened his mouth to refute that but then caught the colonel's eye and abruptly changed his mind. Howlett knew damn well what had really happened in Bregan, he couldn't not know. Dietrich and the Patrol would have debriefed days ago and Military Intelligence would have made sure that Howlett knew the facts.
"Yes sir," he agreed again. There wasn't any point in arguing. As Howlett had pointed out, Craig was only a lieutenant and he was a full colonel.
Howlett nodded and leant back in his chair watching Garrison closely. "So let me recap, Lieutenant Garrison. The charges against you currently stand at disobeying a direct order from a superior officer, dereliction of duty and desertion of your post in a time of war. All three are court-martial offences so give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you cashiered from the army."
Craig considered his answer for a moment, tempted to tell the older man what he really thought but he resisted the impulse. He was in deep enough trouble already without adding insolence to the list of charges. Besides which, it was obvious that the colonel had already made up his mind about him. He didn't know Howlett well but he did know that once the man made a decision nothing short of a direct order from high command changed it.
"No sir," he finally said, looking straight ahead at the wall over Howlett's shoulder.
The colonel raised a brow in surprise. "What, no bull about how we can't afford to lose you or that if you go the army will lose your cons as well?" he asked sardonically.
Garrison flicked a quick look at him. "No sir. They might be cons but they are better than that. They've all worked too hard for their paroles to throw them away for me," Craig told him trying to sound more confident than he felt. He remembered only too clearly that they had wanted him to go on the run with them when he faced the last court-martial. He had been touched by their loyalty but knew that running never solved anything.
"Unfortunately I'm forced to disagree with you," the colonel contradicted him, meeting Garrison's disconcerted gaze. "I think they are perfectly capable of throwing their paroles away for your sake. I think this latest stunt has proven that. I was against using convicts to begin with but if it shortens the war, I'll live with it. The same applies to you, Garrison." Howlett broke eye contact and sat up in his chair, suddenly brisk. "Except for missions, you will be confined to base until further notice. Dismissed."
Craig stared at him for a moment, hardly able to believe what he'd heard. He had been sure that Howlett would throw the book at him and to be released with his record still relatively untarnished was incredible. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, the weight dropping from his shoulders.
"Thank you, sir," he said quietly.
"Don't thank me, lieutenant. You have some very influential friends in high places. Thank them. That's all. Dismissed."
Garrison snapped a salute and turned to go but was pulled up short as the colonel spoke again.
"One thing, lieutenant." Craig swung around to face the man again, chilled by the sudden harshness in the voice. "I dislike being forced to take orders from the British. You got away with it this time but put one foot over the line in the future and I'll have you up in front of a court so fast you won't know what's hit you and damn the consequences. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," Craig said automatically, his mind still trying to take in the fact that Anthony Farrar and their mutual friend Alexis Kalinsky had obviously used their not inconsiderable influence on his behalf. He should have expected it though. After all, Farrar had sent the Gorillas out after him and Alexis was currently on secondment to the US army, acting as a liaison between the two intelligence services and responsible for the debriefing of several groups, the Rat Patrol included. And, on a more personal level, the two of them had been watching his back since they were children. It was heartening to know that he could still count of someone apart from his Gorillas.
Craig walked out of the office and nodded to the man behind the desk, faintly amused to note that both his guards had disappeared. They had obviously known that they wouldn't be needed anymore. He wondered for a moment if he had been the only one who had expected a court-martial but dismissed the idea. The Gorillas certainly had. By now they probably had his escape route mapped out and all their travel plans laid. He had better go and tell them not to bother before they did anything really stupid.
Garrison bounded up the stairs light-heartedly and, after a perfunctory knock, almost burst into the big room the four of them had appropriated as their own. His precipitous entrance was pulled up short as he suddenly came face to face with a knife.
"Warden!" Chief exclaimed, his hand dropping to his side in surprise.
Garrison tried to hide his grin as the other three swung round to stare at him. "Can I come in?" he asked and closed the door behind him as Chief moved back to let him in.
"Well?" Goniff demanded, moving forward to hustle Garrison towards the table. "What did the colonel say? Are they going to court-martial you?"
"Are you kidding?" Casino asked him scathingly. "Just look at that grin."
Garrison sat down and poured himself a drink from the ever present bottle on the table before speaking. He looked at the four of them, standing bunched shoulder to shoulder on the other side of the table, anxiously waiting for his answer and then flicked a look at the half packed bag lying open on Goniff's bed. "Going somewhere, Goniff?" he asked mildly.
"Lieutenant," Actor growled, flaring at him in exasperation.
"I'll have to use a few of your escape routes from the manor for a while but other than that I'm in the clear," he told them, giving up all attempts to hide his grin.
"Totally?" Chief queried.
Garrison nodded. "I'm confined to base for a while but apart from that..."
"See? I told you not to worry," Goniff chirped. "I knew the Warden would be alright," he added, conveniently forgetting as always that he had been the one prophesying doom.
Casino shot him a look and opened his mouth to say something but then changed his mind and sat down to pour himself a drink. The little Limey was always the same. It was just his way of coping with the worry.
Actor plucked the bottle from Casino's hand and filled his own glass. "So how did you get out of it?" he asked curiously.
"The colonel decided I was less trouble here than behind bars," Craig answered flippantly.
"Oh come on, Warden," Goniff chided, not believing him. "You can tell us," he wheedled.
Craig shrugged, unwilling to tell them everything in case they started asking too many questions about his relationship to Tony and Alexis. He trusted them but he wasn't sure he was willing to share that with them just yet. Some day soon, perhaps, but not today while his guard was still down.
He was spared the need to answer as the intercom buzzed.
"Lieutenant Garrison." Craig suppressed a shudder at the sergeant-major's familiar cockney pronunciation and acknowledged the call. "There's someone 'ere to see you, sir. Captain Dietrich and Sergeant Troy. The sergeant asked for a Colonel Isaacs, too. Do you know him?"
Garrison shot Actor a look full of wicked amusement as the conman groaned and sank back in his chair, one hand theatrically to his brow. This would be fun.
"Yeah, I know Colonel Isaacs," he confirmed. "Send them up." He turned to look at the cons. "Well, colonel, ready to face the music?" he asked almost gleefully.
Actor took a deep breath and brushed a few imaginary specks of dust off his unmarked uniform blouse. "Always."
Garrison saluted him with a glass. "Brave man," he murmured as he turned to open the big door. "Dietrich. Sergeant Troy. Come in..."