Chapter 2

"What you did was stupid! You could've got yourself killed," Garrison growled. "Not only that but if they'd caught you, then the contents of the case would be useless. You could've blown the whole mission."

Chief hated it when Garrison yelled at him. The man treated him like he mattered, like he was worthy. Garrison trusted him and he liked that. He knew if he screwed up then that would be lost. He didn't want to go back to being a nothing and alone.

His preference to being on his own was a lie. He hated it but it was better than the alternative. What he really wanted in the darkest part of his soul was to belong, to be included, to be part of something. After years of rejection and being ostracized he had decided that it was better to reject them and learn to live apart and learn to like it. So that was what he had done. When he first joined the group he had maintained his distance, an automatic response. Over time he had not seen the expected rejection and he had lowered his guard. Their leader, once hated because of the power he welded over him, had proven himself to be fair. Chief had changed his opinion when the man had gone out of his way to save his miserable hide and then not yelled at him for getting caught. It had shocked him so much he had even thanked him. Now he was yelling at him calling him stupid.

"I told you and the others that I'm the boss," continued Garrison. "You do as I tell you. If you've got a suggestion then say it, we'll discuss it and then I make the decision. You got that? You can't just take it into your head and go off on your own. You waltzed in there, no back up. You could have been caught and dead before I even got there. You can't do that. We've got to work together."

Over time Chief had learned to disregard people. He barely listened when they talked. As a child it usually involved teasing or outright meanness. With his acceptance of the Lieutenant as a fair man he tuned into what he said. He put his trust and faith in his words. Now they were cutting him to shreds just as the other peoples' words did. He wanted to shut them out. He wanted to put his hands over his ears and block the sounds that were knives carving into his soul. He wanted to turn his back as if he could turn his back on the words but he was afraid. The room they were in was too small for him to put any distance between them and Garrison was not a man to be slighted. If he turned Garrison might hit him, not that he didn't deserve it but he was afraid. In the past he had learned that fear could be read so the best thing to do was cover it, cover it with anger. Anger he knew how to deal with, anger gave his body something to do - fight. He fought back with attitude.

"Well you couldn't do it! You say I could'a got caught? What about you? They know you. You'd a never made it across that room. So don't you talk to me about stupid. I did you a favour." Chief had no idea where that came from. It had just come out.

"A favour?" Still angry but now he was a little confused.

"Yeah."

"What favour?" he asked quietly

Yes, what favour. Chief had not thought that through, he had just blurted it out. Now he had to explain but had no idea how. He cast around for some explanation. What did everybody want. What would Garrison want. Usually what someone else wanted was what he didn't want so the thing he didn't want was to go back to prison. Without thinking that through he blurted it out.

"Now you can do what you always wanted, get rid a me, send me back."

"Send you b … " That brought him up short. "Where did that come from? Why would I send you back?" he asked clearly puzzled.

"What makes you think you're any different?" he was grabbing at straws and he knew it but was helpless to stop it. "You're the same as anybody else."

Garrison stood and stared at him. "You didn't mean to say that did you?" Chief was caught. "Chief, I'm not sending you back. You're part of this outfit but if you screw up then I'm going to tell you and you screwed up."

Chief tried to conceal his emotions but they were ripping him apart. He just wanted to get away, to run to somewhere private and hide for a time like a wounded animal. He was wounded.

In a more conciliatory tone his leader said, "Get changed and lets go." He turned and made ready to leave.

Once Chief had changed back to his civilian clothes the two men dressed as farm labourers began their trek through the woods. Half an hour later they flagged down a passing farmer and hitched a ride to their exit point. Because they could have been overheard the two men could not converse so only Garrison sat up by the farmer while Chief hopped up on the back of the wagon where he could quietly consider what had happened. He knew Garrison had been mad at him but knew he never carried a grudge. Everything he had said in anger would be forgiven and forgotten. What he couldn't forget was how he had felt having to be in charge. He was glad he had done it, glad he didn't have to sit and watch Garrison get caught, get taken away to be interrogated and shot but he was glad that was over. He never wanted to be in charge again.