ggg

Rawlins fixed his eyes on the door of the truck as it opened, "Glad to see you made it back, sir." A report had already reached him, he knew there was one less man on the back of the truck.

"You mean surprised to see we made it back, don't you Sergeant?" Garrison returned the Sergeant Major's salute and started for the back of the truck calling over his shoulder. "So, who won the pool?" He'd already sent word through the underground. It was no surprise to the crew here at the mansion that there was one less man, no surprise which one hadn't made it back.

"Pool, sir?" His NCO flushed red to the roots of his hair. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

The Lieutenant turned and leaned against the truck, "Come now, Sergeant! You aren't going to stand there and tell me you didn't know about the pool?" It was a bit of black humor most special units engaged in… settling a bet on the odds of a group or an individual's chances of making it through an assignment alive. Even though playing out this little scenario wouldn't bring Wheeler back it would help the ones left behind deal with it. Wheeler wasn't a soldier, he wasn't even liked by the soldiers who made up the detail out here, none of the men were, but he'd gone out and he hadn't come back. That brought things a little too close to home for comfort. Making a joke out of it helped them feel like death couldn't touch them. Garrison understood that even though he knew it wasn't true.

"Well, yes, sir, I knew about it, but…" Gil watched the American officer for a moment. They hadn't worked together very long, he wasn't sure he could read him yet. He knew he'd been in North Africa. Rawlins knew he'd lost men before. The look on the Lieutenant's face was dead serious...still... He decided to take a chance. "But I'm surprised you knew about it, sir."

Garrison finally laughed, "Knew about it? I'm in it!" And as they fell in side by side and continued to the back of the locked truck he confided. "Took some talking to get Corporal Santos to let me in, but I convinced him right before we left."

The transport from the airfield had backed into the steps leading up to the manor, guards were posted on either side of the truck and pairs were spotted along the stairs with the last one stationed in the entry. The base was a strange one, set up more to keep the men housed here in, than to keep curious civilians or threats from the outside out. The house had been fitted with bars on the windows of the rooms the men would use, and the heavy antique locks supplemented with new modern ones that only operated from the outside in deference to the supposed skills of one of the inmates…ah.., members of the special team. Other modifications had been put in place that made the house and grounds feel much more like a prison than a military base and some of the men who had been assigned here had been selected because they had experience either as guards in prisons, or as peace officers, here in England or over in the States. Sergeant Major Gilbert Rawlins had neither…

Rawlins had been talked into this job because of his skills as a training instructor and success as a commando. The Yank Lieutenant waiting for him to unlock the truck had come to him while he was still convalescing and explained a little bit about the assignment, told him there was a team of 'specialists' coming from America to do a job for the military. They'd need an intense course of training to get them ready for their mission, he said, and he told him he was just the man for the job… neglecting to mention until it was too late that the 'specialists' were all criminals let loose from prisons across America.

As he reached into his pocket to retrieve the keys to unlock the tall tailgate that covered most of the back of the truck Gil looked up at his commanding officer. "Beggin' your pardon sir, but about your bet?"

"Yes, Sergeant Major."

"What number did you bet, sir, if I might ask?" The pool was a grim joke the men assigned to the base started when they learned just who the 'specialists' were and found out a little bit about the mission.

"Can't see any harm in telling you, Rawlins, since I won't pick the same number again." Craig smiled at the change in the Sergeant's complexion.. He'd gone from red faced embarrassment to slightly pale disbelief. Guess he didn't really believe this job would run longer than the one mission either, he thought. "I had Zero, Sergeant."

Gil froze with his hand half way to the lock and turned to stare at the young man standing next to him. "Zero, sir?!"

Reaching out Garrison retrieved the keys that were dangling from his British NCO's hand and started working the lock. "Well, the spot was open, and you'll have to admit I had a pretty good chance of hitting it big."

"But, … Zero, sir?" Rawlins swallowed hard and moved forward to take the keys back and finish his job. He followed the Lieutenant with his eyes as the young officer stepped back. The men had their doubts about ever seeing this group again… At least not all of them, that's how the betting got started. But for the Lieutenant to be the one to buy the spot that turned on none of them getting back… And to stand there and make a joke about it? "I don't believe the men will be having another pool, sir."

The Lieutenant shrugged slightly and continued to smile at him. "Might be wise, Sergeant, it'd be too hard to figure. I don't think this group is going to follow the odds."

Gil finally relaxed and smiled back, "No sir," and turned back to the forgotten lock, only to stop again and frown at the young officer standing there. "Sir? Just how were you going to collect on your bet if you'd won?!"

Garrison ignored the question and threw the canvass flap back as Rawlins let the tailgate down. He stepped back and waited for the men to jump out of the truck as each of them was released from the handcuff that secured him. He watched as they lined up and waited for the Sergeant Major to secure them to the chain for their trip inside. After following the group up the steps into the mansion Craig made a detour to use the phone and another stop to talk to one of the guards before taking the stairs to the upper floor. He arrived just as Gil had ordered the men to their cots so he could attach the leg irons.

Craig moved up behind the Sergeant, laying a hand on his shoulder as he knelt in front of Actor. "That won't be necessary Sergeant Major. I don't think we need to use these any longer."

"Blimey! That's great Warden! You won't be sorry, mate."

They'd done what they had to do over there and completed the assignment. They hadn't given him any trouble on the trip back…. And he'd probably just made the biggest mistake in his career by officially volunteering to head the group up. "I hope not Goniff." but before the little burglar wasted one of his grins on him he continued. "The chains are off, for now, but the tracks stay in the floor. …. Just in case." And he turned on his heel and left them to their plotting.

g

Garrison waited outside the door and took the chains from Rawlins, stowing them in the cabinet that stood in the hall while the other man locked the door on their little group of experts.

"Did the men give you any trouble over there, sir?"

Craig shrugged. "Nothing I couldn't handle, Sergeant." Then he wandered across the wide hallway and pushed open the door to the room the guards had been using when it was their turn to keep an eye on the cons through the night. Jergens appeared at the top of the stairs just as he'd finished his inspection and stepped back out into the hall.

"This'll do just fine. Clear this room out and have the men move my things in here will you Corporal?"

"What's this, then?" There was more than just a hint of suspicion in his voice as Rawlins asked the question

"Oh I decided it would be better if I was a little closer to the action for a while…." Craig said as his mouth quirked up in a quick smile. "At least until they settle in."

Rawlins smiledto himself. He knew the Lieutenant's assignment as head of this group had been temporary, the brass leaving it up to his discretion to turn it into a permanent arrangement. And the younger man had confided his indecision to him during one of their many discussions about how the men were doing on their training and what they might do to increase the chances that they'd survive their mission. Gil had even heard him on the phone, just before they left for France, telling his commander he still didn't have an answer and that he was going to let the group's interaction in the field guide him. Seems he'd finally made up his mind. "And just how long do you expect that will take?"

"Two days ought to do it."

"And then what?" Gil rested his fists on his hips and considered his new CO, it seemed their bet was back on.

Garrison shrugged. "Then I imagine I'll have a meeting in London."

"And I suppose it will keep you over night?"

Craig smiled at his NCO, "I expect so."

Rawlins continued to study the young man for a moment. "Lieutenant Garrison I suspect you are not a very honorable man."

"You may be right Sergeant Major Rawlins." They stepped back out of the way as a group of men entered the room and watched as two of the cots were manhandled out and down the stairs. "I'm not sure I've ever been one."

g

It was late. It had been after midnight by the time the squad they met up with delivered them to the harbor, then there was the ride out to the sub, transfer to that little sardine can and the trip back to England. Once they got on shore the Warden had to do a song and dance for the brass while they cooled their heels on the truck with the guards. So it was late..., or early, depending on how you looked at things, and they were beat. They stowed what little gear they had away but instead of hitting the sack the men assembled around the table that had been moved into the room and set up where Wheeler's bed had been. There was a case along that wall now and it held glasses and cups and a bottle of brandy with just enough in it for a couple of rounds of drinks… if they shared.

Casino turned and picked four glasses up in the fingers of one hand and snatched the bottle off the shelf with the other. He slid a glass across the table to each man and sloshed a measure of brandy into his own before shoving the bottle towards Goniff. Waiting until they all had a drink in their hand he raised his in a silent toast and took a sip, watching as the others followed suit. As soon as the ritual was over he knocked the rest of his drink back and rested his elbows on the table…

"Alright. Now Wheeler's outta the picture let's get down to it." He shot a look around the table then turned on the con man. "You really think we can get away from that guy and make a go of it on our own over there Actor?"

The European con man considered the men around the table but before he could answer Chief put a cautioning hand up. There was someone just outside in the hall. After a slight grating noise the door swung open and the Lieutenant stepped in, scanned the room and settled his gaze on them as they sat at the table nursing their drinks.

"You fellas better get some sack time, you've got a big day tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" Casino checked his watch. "It's tomorrow now."

"Which means you'd better get to it."

"What do you have in mind for us Lieutenant?" Actor interrupted before the others could get started on their arguments.

"Oh, I thought a little more time on the obstacle course." With a little live fire overhead to convince them to drop and take cover when he told them to, but he didn't mention that. "And Goniff needs some work on the firing range."

"Hey! I did pretty good over there." The little pick pocket protested. "I got that bloke on the tank didn't I?"

Garrison's mouth lifted in a quick half smile. "Yes you did Goniff, but your eyes were closed."

Casino turned on the cockney theif. "Jeeze! Your eyes were closed?!"

Goniff fidgeted in his chair a moment then looked up, "Yeah!" huffed a bit of steam on his fingers and buffed them against his shirt. "That's natural talent, that is. The rest a you lot'd need t'be lookin' at what you wanna hit... I just hit it."

Craig lifted an eyebrow as he considered them, then shook his head. "Well, you'll get a chance to test your natural talent out tomorrow." And he called over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "But you'd better get that sack time because the party starts at oh-seven-hundred."

If they'd been regular Army recruits their day would start at five, but they weren't regular Army. The prison day started between six-thirty and seven and he didn't really care if they kept to that later schedule, it would give him time to get some work done before he had to worry about keeping track of them. And he would probably let them slide into seven-thirty, or eight tomorrow because along with that live fire drill they'd be practicing hitting their targets on the run through the course too, not just playing fast draw on the firing line. He wanted them sharp for that. Garrison pulled the door closed behind him and stood listening for a moment before moving across the hall.

Casino, Goniff and Chief all caught it...the Warden hadn't turned the key in the lock! They were up from the table and made their way silently across the room but they left it to their cat burglar to get the door open, that was his specialty. He carefully turned the knob, and with his eye already pressed to the crack, pulled the door open so he could see out. Goniff watched Garrison's back as he moved to the door up the hall and across from theirs. But he rocked back on his heels, colliding with the safecracker, with the man turned and gavehim a little wave before going in and closing his door.

"What?"

"Blimey! He's moved his digs up here......."