Missions Gone Awry

Chapter 11

The military car pulled up into the car park. It was almost a relief to get back to the familiar place they called home. Almost, but not quite. All three of them were tired, depressed, and injured though not seriously. Still, he knew the men would have looked forward to Terry's almost motherly ministrations. He would have himself if he was honest and right now he was pretty close to honest.

Garrison thanked the driver before opening the door. Moving stiffly and painfully, the three of them slowly climbed out and watched the car pull away, reluctant to go inside even if it was 'home'. The door to the mansion opened and the Sgt/Major stepped onto the portico. Craig had not bothered to sound the horn for injured.

"Come on," said Garrison with weary resignation.

They slowly went up the steps. Casino had the duffle this time and was glad to be done hauling it all over Italy and France. At the top, Rawlins took in the tattered clothing, dirt, and blood stains, along with the unshaven faces and listless eyes. He stopped Garrison with a hand out.

"You're all injured, Sir?" he asked. "Why aren't you at hospital?"

"Because we don't need a hospital," Craig replied. He pushed past the man, not having his usual patience with Rawlins.

The cons walked past him without so much as a glance. The Sgt/Major followed them inside.

"'Ere now," he said. "I'll get the aid kits and be right there. We'll have you right as rain in a bit."

"No," said Garrison. He looked at the man, aware his two men were standing silently behind him, watching, as were the two in the chairs in the common room. "It would be helpful if you would make up some sandwiches, without Spam, and bring them up."

"But . . .," objected the non-com in confusion.

"That's all, Sgt/Major," said Garrison with the military demeanor of an order.

They watched as Rawlins saluted, turned and muttered on his way to the kitchen.

"Warden . . .," started Casino.

"I'll find her. Go get yourselves settled up there."

Craig went into his office and closed the door. He listened to the booted feet clomping slowly up the steps, the concerned voices of the other two men joining them, before taking a seat at his desk and reaching for the phone.

GGG

"Hello?"

It was Christine who answered at Terry's flat.

"Where's your sister?" asked Craig.

"She's here," said Chris. "Are you all right?"

"Not exactly," admitted the older brother. "Let me talk to Terry."

He heard her call for the older girl. A moment later Terry answered.

"Craig? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing major. We all have some injuries. Can you come? They want you. I want you."

"Will he let . . ." she started in disgust. Her demeanor changed. "No, I will see to it he lets me. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Be careful."

"I'm always careful. I also have a fast car."

"Okay."

GGG

The front door opened and Terry limped brusquely in. Rawlins was at the foot of the stairs. He looked at her with caution.

"I'm taking care of them," she said forcefully. "And I don't want to hear a word out of you. Understand?'

"Yes, Miss."

Terry bounded with a hopping gait up the stairs and to her brother's room. The Englishman followed, but kept his distance and was silent. The girl was aware of his presence and ignored him. She looked at her brother and took in the cuts and scrapes on his torso. He was clad in his pants and had stood up from the bed when he heard her coming up the stairs.

"All of you?" she asked.

He nodded. Bomb blast. Mostly stone abrasions. I don't know if Actor has shrapnel. He was closest, but he wouldn't let me check him out." He looked her in the eyes. "Thanks for coming."

"All you have to do is call," she said gently.

She turned to get the aid kit from her room, figuring she would be going through everything they had on all of the men. Rawlins backed out of her way, but followed her.

In a quiet voice, he asked, "Miss?"

Terry stopped and looked back at him.

"I would like to help," he said. "They're good lads. They really are. Just the lads are boisterous at times."

Terry nodded. "I guess that's one way of describing them." She looked at the man and saw his sincerity. "Okay, Can you get some water heating on the stove? It's faster than waiting for that old boiler to kick in."

"I'll find some basins too," he said with more of his usual energy.

Terry retrieved the aid kit from her room and returned to Craig's room. He frowned when he noticed she was limping.

"What happened to you?"

"Sprained my ankle," she replied. She went about opening the aid kit on the desk while her brother took a seat on the chair. "It had rained, the rock I was standing on came loose, I couldn't keep my balance, twisted and ended up at the bottom of the hill." She studied the dirt and scrapes on her brother's chest and back. She could hear water from the shower in one of the other rooms. "Go take a shower before there isn't any hot water left. Rawlins is heating water on the stove so I can clean you guys up better. I'll wait."

Garrison got pajama bottoms from his armoire and disappeared into his bathroom. Terry sat on the chair and waited. He came out just as the Sgt/Major walked in with a basin of hot water. The girl got up and let her brother sit, motioning Rawlins to put the basin beside the kit on the desk. Wetting a gauze pad, she gently wiped the scrapes and scratches on Craig's chest and right arm.

"Tell me it wasn't Joe again," she said.

"No, it was the Germans."

Rawlins stood aside and watched. The girl cleansed the wounds and then applied ointment to them. She moved to his back and did the same to those wounds. When she was done, she gathered everything up except the basin.

"Where to next?" asked the non-com.

"That sounded like Casino's shower," said Terry. "Too far away for it to be Actor's. We'll go to Casino next."

"I'll go get fresh water."

"Thank you, Sgt/Major."

Craig waited until Rawlins had taken the basin away before looking at his sister. "You staying?"

She shook her head. "Probably not. I have things I have to do," she said vaguely.

"Be careful doing those things you have to do," warned Garrison.

Terry smiled. "Not dangerous this time." She headed for the door while Garrison got up and sat on the bed. Pausing, she said, "Call me if you need me."

"Okay. Thanks for coming, Sis."

"Anytime, Brother."

She went down the hall to Casino's room and tapped on the door. There was no sound of water now.

"Come on in."

Terry opened the door and walked in. The safecracker was sitting on his bed, clad only in his regulation shorts.

"Glad you came, Babe," he said.

Terry smiled. "Okay, where are you damaged?"

"Front, side and back," he replied. He noticed her gait. "What happened to you?"

"Took the fast way down a hill."

"Well, that makes it unanimous. All of us got it."

Terry went in the bathroom and got the aid kit out of there. She sincerely hoped the Sgt/Major wouldn't question how they all came to have their own aid kits. It had been half con and half larceny from the army base outside London. She came out with the fresh aid kit and set it beside the safecracker on the bed. Opening it, she took out the little tube of ointment. Tilting Casino's head back with a finger under his chin, she spread a thin coat on an abrasion on his cheek.

"Wanna kiss it an' make it better?"

"No."

"You would for Beautiful," he said sullenly.

"Oh would you stop already? Rawlins will walk in any second," she said in a quiet voice.

As if on cue, the Sgt/Major pushed the door open farther and came in with a basin of clean water. He set it on the chair seat and studied Casino's chest and arm.

"'E got it a little worse than the Leftenant," Rawlins remarked.

"I was closer to the building," said Casino, reluctantly eyeing Terry with understanding.

Terry didn't say anything. She started the cleansing and ointment process with Casino like she had done with Craig. Rawlins walked around the bed and stopped short. It was the first time he had seen safecracker's entire back.

"Blimey! Those aren't that old."

"No," said Terry. "They were before you came."

Rawlins shook his head. "The Jerries do that?"

Casino was about to give a smart answer back, but the girl caught his eye and gave a minute shake of her head. "Yeah," was all he said. He was still self-conscious about the scars.

Terry worked silently on the rest of his injuries. When she was done, she gathered up both aid kits. The Sgt/Major picked up the basin and headed downstairs. The girl paused, waiting until she heard him start down the stairs and turned back to Casino. Bending down, she planted a big kiss on his forehead.

"Happy?"

"No," he tossed back at her. "That wasn't what I had in mind."

"Sorry, Babe, that's all you're getting."

"Figures," he said with a lopsided grin.

Chuckling, Terry went into the hall and waited for the Sgt/Major to come back upstairs. The man seemed to have as big a problem with her and Actor as Casino had, only different. When Rawlins arrived, Terry walked into Actor's bedroom with him right behind her. The bathroom door was open and the shower could be heard. It was not a good sign to Terry because she knew the Italian loved his tub baths, even with the water restriction.

"Actor?"

"Be right out." The dull tone of his voice was evidence of his exhaustion.

"We're both out here," Terry warned. She knew without that he was just apt to come out without a towel around himself, knowing his nudity would not bother the girl.

"All right," he acknowledged.

The water was turned off and they could hear the curtain being pulled back.

"Craig said he thought you had shrapnel," said the girl. "Were you able to get all your wounds cleaned?"

"I believe there is shrapnel in the back of my right shoulder," Actor said. "I can't see it, but I did wash it as best I can. It feels like something small and sharp is under the skin."

Terry turned to the non-com. "In Craig's bathroom there is an aid kit with a scalpel and forceps. Could you get it for me?"

"Right away," he said, hurrying out of the room.

Actor emerged from the bathroom, hair wet and slicked back, a towel barely covering him from the hips downward. He looked at Terry with open relief, uncommon for him.

"Get on your stomach on the bed and I'll cover you," urged Terry.

He quickly tossed the towel on a chair and slide facedown onto the bed. The girl pulled the covers up well above his waist; patting his backside lightly in the process. Turning the desk lamp on, she bent down to examine the wound. It was about a centimeter long and oozing blood.

The Sgt/Major hurried back in and handed an aid kit to Terry. He bent around her to peer at the wound.

"Something still in there?" he asked.

"Looks like," said Terry.

She opened the kit and placed it atop the small of Actor's back.

"Don't jump around," she cautioned.

"I don't jump," he informed her indignantly.

"You might change your mind about that when I start digging in there."

Terry took a piece of gauze and wiped the blood away, using it over her finger to press around the wound. Actor winced.

"Sorry."

It's okay. It feels a little larger than a needle."

"I'm going to numb it up," said Terry. "Then I'll have to slit it a little more to get the forceps in. I'm not doing the switchblade routine."

"I do appreciate that," said Actor, right arm along his body, left curled under the pillow. His head was turned to his right so he could speak to the girl easier.

Rawlins watched as Terry drew up and injected the procaine around the wound. He reached around her with gauze and dabbed the blood away that began flowing more freely with the injection. As they waited for the anesthetic to take effect, the Sgt/Major, and Terry, took note of the cuts and scrapes on his shoulder and back. There was a small abrasion on Actor's right temple.

"You were the closest?" asked Terry.

"Unfortunately," answered the con man. "Casino received more damage than the Warden. He was between us."

"I know. I took care of both of them already."

Picking up the scalpel, she lightly touched the edge of the wound with the point of the blade. There was no reaction. Carefully, she enlarged the laceration. Rawlins continued to dab away the blood. Terry took the forceps and, pulling the edges of the wound apart with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, probed inside. Frowning in concentration, she maneuvered the instrument, grasped and pulled out a long, narrow shard of glass, holding it down so Actor could see it, before dropping it into the trashcan.

She picked up the needle of the suture with the forceps. Working quickly now, she stitched the wound closed. The cut was liberally sprinkled with sulfa powder and a piece of gauze covered by a plaster followed.

"Could you take this downstairs and boil the instruments?" Terry asked Rawlins.

"Of course, Miss." He gathered the items and removed them and himself from the room.

Terry opened a tube of ointment and began applying it to the superficial cuts and abrasions on his back and shoulder. She gently dabbed some on the abraded temple.

"Can you roll on your back and let me take care of the front of you?"

"They are just minor," said Actor, rolling over.

There was a scattering of abrasions and scratches on the front of his shoulder and chest. She applied the ointment to them and capped the tube.

"I could have done that myself," he said, though he had made no attempt to stop her.

"I know, but I'm here and you need some rest."

She smiled at him and got the crooked smile in return. Glancing at the door, she bent down and lightly brushed a kiss to his lips.

"Are you staying here or at the flat?" asked Actor.

"The flat," said Terry. "I don't have the temperament for this."

Unfortunately Actor knew exactly what the 'this' was or rather who it was. It did not further endear the British Sgt/Major to him.

"Get some rest, caro," she said quietly. "And someday, I want to hear what went wrong this time."

Actor smiled at that and nodded.

Terry let herself out of the room and carefully closed the door. With the two used aid kits in her hand, she headed down the hall. The doors to the common room were open and she glanced in, seeing Goniff and Chief. The girl took a detour in, dropped the kits on the table, pulled a chair out and sat down.

"How are you two doing?"

"We're okay, Love," assured Goniff.

"Headaches and dizziness getting better?" Terry asked with concern.

Goniff nodded.

She turned to the Indian. "How's your hip doing, Chiefy?"

He shrugged. "I can walk a little without the cane." He stared at her with dark eyes. "When you comin' back for good?"

"When British/American relations are better. I'd start another war here in the Mansion."

They did not see the Sgt/Major stop outside the door and step up to the wall where he couldn't be seen, but could still hear.

"It's a ruddy shame you bein' forced out of here an' all," remarked Goniff unhappily.

"I'm not forced out," said Terry carefully. "It's my choice. I can't stand to be idle and I have very little I can do here without a fight."

"So what more are you doin' livin' in the flat?" Chief wanted to know.

Terry toyed with one of the folded up kits with a forefinger. "I'm over on the Continent more than I'm at the flat." She shrugged. "It's better this way."

"Yeah, it's better," said Chief disgustedly. "Goin' to get yourself killed is what's going to happen."

Terry smiled, "I can get killed just as easily going in with you guys." She looked between the two with affection. "Ok, Guys, I'm going back to Brandonshire. You know where I am. Call the Fox. Kit generally knows if I'm home or not."

Hearing the chair legs scrap on the floor, Rawlins straightened and moved back a few feet down the hall. He smiled and bounced into the room.

"Oh, here you are, Miss," he said with good humor. He pointed to the used aid kits. "I can take care of those for you. Have you had lunch?"

"No," said Terry. "I have food at home. And the kits are all yours."

"You're leaving?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes, I'm leaving." She turned to the other two. "Come visit me at the Fox and see if you can drag my brother with you."

"Sure, Terry," said Goniff with a cheerfulness he didn't feel.

The girl walked past the British non-com and out the door. Rawlins picked up the two kits and left the common room.

Chief turned his head slowly to look at Goniff. "I think we should step up the British/American relations."

"What do you mean, Chiefy?" asked the Englishman in confusion.

The Indian grinned evilly. "I think we should make him pay for runnin' her off."

"Warden ain't goin' to like that, Mate," said Goniff none too convincingly.

"No, he probably isn't." Chief's grin widened. "But we will."