Raiders Folly
Chapter 10
The hand scribbled note sitting in the middle of his desk acted like a magnet that Major Richards found he was unable to break away from. He closed his eyes but only moments later they snapped open, staring unwaveringly on the same damning words again. The moment his aide, Featherston, had entered his office he knew something was seriously wrong. The young man always had a nervous twitch whenever he entered the office, which usually brought an amused smile to the Richards' face. He wondered what exactly the man thought he was going to do to him. He knew he was abrupt and not prone to small talk or idle gossip, but he was also wise enough to acknowledge that without the NCO's and paper pushers employed within the walls of the war department, it wouldn't run. He had seen too many high ranking officers treat their staff like stray dogs and he had determined that he would not fall into that trap. Richards sighed; this morning…this morning Featherston had entered the office barely able to walk in a straight line from the door to the desk, he was shaking so badly. The man had literally dropped the note on his desk and bolted back through the door, accompanied by a glare from Richards.
Richards dropped his head into his hands, rubbing tiredly at his eyes as he recalled the moments after Featherston had left. He had snatched up the note which was lying face down on the desk and began to read.
Munitions depot destroyed, good thought Richards; that would put a dent in Jerries plans.
Mosby, Blake and Brown survived, Blake injured, on way home. Richards felt his stomach drop. It was never good when men were injured or lost on these missions.
All others presumed dead or captured. Richards was sure his heart had missed a beat as he read the final line.
He couldn't believe what he was reading then and still couldn't believe what he was reading now. That Garrison and his team were either dead or prisoners of the Germans. But as the hours had slowly ticked by and no word came through from Garrison's team, the evidence of the words was becoming too strong to ignore. The message had come through from the resistance in Cambrai. A later message from Calais confirming that the three Raiders had safely rendezvoused with the sub sat scrunched up at the bottom of his waste paper basket. And a message sent to the resistance in Laon had garnered no information on the whereabouts of Garrison and his men. Now all he could do was to wait for Mosby to return and fill him in on what went wrong.
GG
Davies hadn't gone more than a mile before he became aware of someone following him from the deeper cover of the trees. He was sure it wasn't a German patrol, they were much too quiet for that, which only left one other conclusion and he hoped he was right. He stopped and sat down on a fallen tree trunk, laid his gun down at his feet and waited.
"You are either a very brave man or a stupid one, Monsieur."
Davies sat quietly as a half dozen men, dressed in the clothes of French farmers stepped out of the trees with guns pointed at his chest. "I like to think, sensible, is a better description Monsieur." Davies replied quietly. "You have me out numbered and surrounded. Where was I to run? You know these woods far better than I do."
"You are an American?" A tall young Frenchman asked in some surprise.
"I am. You sound surprised." Davies eyed the man suspiciously.
"My apologies Monsieur but we were told by Captain Mosby that no other Americans had survived the raids on Reims."
Davies jumped to his feet with a curse and began pacing in front of the men. "Mosby," he ground out before turning to look at the Frenchman again. "Captain Mosby told you that?" he demanded.
The Frenchman eyed the angry American for a moment before nodding his head. "We sent a message to London this morning confirming that he and two others…"
"Blake and Brown," Davies snarled
"Qui Monsieur…were the only survivors of the two raids."
"Well he was wrong, we all survived but one of the others is badly injured. I was looking for a place where we could hide the truck for a few hours so that Chief can rest up."
"This Captain Mosby, he left you behind non?" The Frenchman spat.
"Yes." Davies snapped.
The Frenchman nodded knowingly. He understood cowards, for any man who left another of his comrades behind was nothing more than a coward in his eyes and many of his own people were cowards and traitors to France. "How many of you are there?"
"Seven."
"I am Pierre; my father leads the resistance in this area. Come; show us where your friends are. We have a safehouse not far from here; we can hide you until it is time to travel. My father will notify London that you have all survived."
Davies drew in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. There was no doubt that they needed help if they were to get Chief back to England alive and the man, Pierre, seemed to know who Mosby was. If he was telling the truth perhaps he could arrange a doctor for Chief. Davies realized he couldn't stand there all day, he had to make a decision and soon. He shrugged, they had not taken his gun and if it came to a fight it would be evenly matched, six against six provided he could give sufficient warning. What he did know was that he couldn't take them on his own. Davies nodded, "we stopped about a mile back down the road."
Pierre stepped forward and held out his hand to Davies who accepted it. "Your commanding office is Lieutenant Garrison?" he enquired as they began retracing Davies steps.
Davies nodded in response. "Yeah."
"His part of the mission, it was successful also?" Pierre asked with some enthusiasm.
"Well now, that all depends on what you know about the LT's mission," Davies hedged as he cast a side long glance in the Frenchman's direction.
Pierre laughed, "I cannot blame you for being suspicious Sergeant and if I were in your shoes I would be too. I admire a man who is loyal to his commander and his fellow comrades. Come, no more questions until we meet up with your LT and my father."
GG
Garrison and Casino spun on their heels, guns swinging effortlessly into place as they faced the group of men flanking Davies.
"You alright Sergeant?" Garrison demanded although he was relieved to see Davies appeared uninjured and still held his weapon in his hand.
Davies nodded, "Yeah LT. This is Pierre; his father is the head of the resistance in this area. He already knows about Mosby and the mission but I didn't tell him anything," Davies quickly added when Garrison's left eyebrow rose in question.
"Blackbird." Garrison gave the password after studying the tall Frenchman who stood calmly beside Davies, accepting his obvious scrutiny.
"Spring" Pierre responded immediately with the countersign.
Garrison lowered his weapon with a sigh and stepped forward to meet the Frenchman. "You know about Mosby?"
"Qui Lieutenant. Several of my men escorted them to Calais early this morning. We were unable to get word through to London until mid morning and unfortunately London thinks you are all missing or dead."
"We'll worry about that later," Garrison growled, "Right now I need a safe place to hide and a doctor for one of my men."
Pierre nodded, "Your Sergeant has already told me and I can provide both. My uncle is the local doctor in this area and we have a safe house in which you can hide. It is not far from here. Can your man travel maybe five or six more miles?"
Garrison turned to Actor, who was squatting at the tailgate of the truck listening to the two men. "What do you think Actor, can we risk moving Chief now?"
Actor turned back and glanced to where Durrant supported Chief at the front of the truck. Chief seemed settled for the time being but Actor knew that could quickly change. The lure of a real doctor to treat the injured man had the conman nodding his head in agreement. "It's a risk we will have to take. Chief needs a doctor and medical attention Craig, and soon, if we hope to get him back to England alive."
Garrison closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and turning back to Pierre. "Alright Pierre, we'll move now, and thank you."
"The roads in this area are not good Lieutenant. They have been damaged by trucks such as this that the Germans drive. Perhaps it would be best if one of my men, who knows the area and the roads well, were to drive."
Garrison hesitated, as much as he wanted and needed to get Chief to a doctor he couldn't risk the safety of the group for one man. He looked around the group of resistance fighters and Davies who stood or squatted in poses of indifferent casualness, guns holstered or pointing to the ground. All seemed above board but there was still a nagging feeling that something was not right. Whether it was his imagination or not, he couldn't totally ignore the feeling. The decision however, was taken out of his hands by a moaning cough and rasping breath from Chief. Garrison sighed, before nodding his head at Pierre. "Alright Pierre, one of your men can drive but Casino will sit up front with him."
Casino hefted his gun slightly and nodded in silent agreement.
Pierre studied the two Americans for a minute. He could not fault the Lieutenant his cautiousness. If the roles were reversed he doubted that he would feel any different. In a business where trust meant the difference between life and death, these men had been betrayed by some of their own. It would not be easy for any of them to blindly trust the word of another again. Just as he could no longer trust the word of all Frenchman again either. "I know that was a difficult decision for you to make Lieutenant but it is the right one. Your man needs medical attention and we can provide it and safe passage back to Calais as soon as my uncle says your man can travel. Henri will drive, I will accompany you in the truck and the others will head back to the safe house through the woods. My uncle will be waiting when we arrive." Pierre gave orders to his men in rapid French that Garrison could barely keep up with.
One of the men, Henri, Garrison assumed moved to the front of the truck with Casino following closely on his heels. The four remaining resistance fighters moved off through the woods without a backwards glance, leaving only Pierre standing with himself and Davies. Garrison glanced quickly at Actor who nodded his head, having understood precisely the orders Pierre had given his men. Satisfied with his second's unvoiced confirmation of the situation, Garrison nodded to Davies and then turned to Pierre. "Alright, let's get out of here." Garrison stepped back and waited for Davies and Pierre to climb into the back of the truck, before he waved at the driver and jumped in as the truck rumbled forward once more.
Pierre made himself as comfortable as possible on the hard wooden bench that ran the length of one side of the truck. Garrison sat on one side of him and the sergeant on the other. Next to the sergeant sat the tall man who Garrison had conferred with regarding the transportation of the injured man, lying comatose against the chest of a young blond man propped up against the corner of the truck. Directly opposite him sat a second blond man, arms tightly hugging his knees with his head buried amid his arms and legs. After listening for only several minutes to the harsh, panting breaths of the injured man, Pierre could understand and sympathize with the all men's pale, haggard features and lack of conversation. He was just grateful that the journey for him at least would only be a short five or six mile trip. He felt the Lieutenant beside him tense as the truck rocked from dropping the back wheel into a pothole and the injured man moaned pitifully.
"Tell me what Mosby said," Garrison turned to Pierre, leveling a glacier blue glare on the Frenchman.
Pierre dragged in a deep breath. He could tell the Lieutenant beside him was barely holding on to his anger. "We did not know that you were here Lieutenant. We received word through the resistance that the munitions depot had been destroyed but no word was sent regarding any of the men who had carried out the raids."
Garrison nodded, "We were told not to make contact with the resistance in Reims. We were supposed to contact the group in Laon if we needed assistance."
"But you did not contact them Monsieur." Pierre stated in surprise. "There is a doctor in Laon."
"We found him and a store full of medical supplies including penicillin that could only have been obtained from the Germans." Actor replied sharply.
"He is not a collaborator by choice Monsieur and he only tells the Germans what we want them to know. In return for our information the Germans supply him with medicines which he then passes on to the resistance."
Goniff lifted his head from his knees and stared at the Frenchman, acknowledging his presence in the truck for the first time. "'Ee could get shot for doing that."
Pierre nodded, "Qui Monsieur he could but it is the only way to guarantee a steady supply of medicines for the French villagers in the area."
"Alright, so we have established that the doctor in Laon is not a collaborator but what about Mosby?" Garrison demanded.
"The captain and his men arrived in the early hours of this morning. My uncle treated the injured man. The captain told us that they had destroyed the munitions dump as planned but that two of his men had either been captured or killed, He was not sure which as they had been separated when the dump exploded." Pierre shrugged helplessly. "We had no reason to disbelieve him. He said that as you had not made the rendezvous he assumed you were not successful and had either being captured or were dead."
Davies growled low in his throat. "Why that dirty low down…"
"Easy Sergeant," Garrison warned.
"I am sorry Lieutenant, we advised London of this information this morning and then several of my men escorted them to Calais."
Garrison sighed. "It's not your fault Pierre."
"This man, he is deserter then?" Pierre queried.
"Too right 'Ee is." Goniff interjected. "'Ee left me and Chiefy there," Goniff nodded to where Chief tossed restlessly in Durrant's arms, "As well as the Sarge and Casey. "'Ee even caused Chiefy's injuries to start with, 'Ee did. 'Ee 'ad them other two with 'im kidnap Chief and beat 'im up."
Pierre starred at the Englishman for a moment before turning his attention back to Garrison. "I do not understand."
Before Garrison could reply the truck slowed and came to a stop. Pierre lifted one corner of the tarp covering the back of the truck and peered cautiously into the darkness. "We are here Monsieur's, come, bring your friend into the house. My uncle will care for him." Without waiting for a response, Pierre jumped from the truck and warmly greeted the elderly man you came to meet him. Casino and the French driver lowered the tailgate and waited for Actor and Garrison to pass a moaning and semi conscious Chief down to them. Carefully they followed Pierre and the man into the house and down a short corridor to a bedroom where the blankets had already been pulled back and a pile of pillows waited in anticipation of their arrival. Chief moaned again as he was lowered to the mattress but he never fully awakened and was oblivious to the parting pat on the arm that Casino gave him as he moved back from the bed.
Pierre ushered the group of worried cons and allied soldiers who had followed behind the injured man, from the room. "Please, let my uncle work."
Garrison and Actor paused in the door and watched as the elder Frenchman removed a stethoscope from his bag and began listening to Chief's chest. "Actor," Garrison nodded towards the bed.
Actor nodded in understanding, "I will stay Craig." He replied as he closed the door behind Garrison's retreating back.