The daylight hours passed slowly, as time does when waiting is the only thing to do. The men rested if they could, but rest was not always possible when minds were active with thoughts of the unknown. Janine left the safe house just before dawn, she had been awake into the early hours working on the uniforms and needed to rest herself. The young woman returned to the cabin briefly mid-afternoon, to deliver a simple, but welcome, meal for the men. The next time they would see her would be in the Château. Gaston's men continued to keep watch outside but Garrison allowed Chief to take his turn as lookout, aware that being confined for long periods of time stretched the young man's nerves more than any of the others.
The Lieutenant and the Resistance leader spent time together, going over the elements of the operation that the French would undertake, the supply of transport and the exit route.
"Do you have the vehicles?"
"Yes M'sieu, I will go and collect the van, then I will take you all into town. One of my men has a garage, he repairs cars and has a German staff car that is in need of attention. That will be your transport for tonight." He waved his arm to include Actor who was watching and listening to the conversation. "The other two, the workers, I will take to the Château myself."
"Good. And our way out?"
"All arranged. Once the job is done, I will meet you here and take you to the coast, the submarine will be off-shore from 0330 to 0500 and again the next morning. A small fishing boat will take you out. Let us hope you meet her the first time, but I have a place where it is safe to hide and to wait if you do not."
The American nodded his understanding. As Goniff had said, the plan sounded okay, but would it work? Who knew? If all went well, they could be back in England in less than twenty four hours hours, but 'if' was a very big word.
GGGGG
Garrison eased his foot more comfortably into the second, gleaming black leather, jackboot he had just pulled on. He took the white collarless shirt from the back of the chair, slipped his arms through the sleeves and fastened the buttons, then finally, the field grey tunic. With every layer of uniform he put on, he felt his internal transition to German officer grow stronger. Physically he was closer to the Aryan look Hitler so admired, with his dark blond hair and blue/green eyes, but the shift into role still did not happen as easily for him as it did for Actor. He'd been the master of 'cons' and disguise for years. One look at what to him was merely a costume and he was straight into the persona. The Lieutenant glanced across the room to confirm what he already knew, there was nothing of the Italian left in the man. He was Oberst Franz Baumann from the top of his elegant dark head to his boot clad toes and would be on the inside too.
The young man paused, momentarily lost in thought, his fingers hovered above the final closures of the tunic's high collar. Had his great-grandparents not left Germany for the USA in the 1800's he could have been wearing the grey uniform of a Wehrmacht officer himself. Was there a distant cousin, not too many miles away, who did just that, maybe with SS runes where his hands now hesitated? The American shivered involuntarily and pushed the rogue thoughts out of his head, sometimes it was better not to think. He grasped the collar and deftly fastened the tiny hooks and eyes, tightened the black leather belt and gave the tunic a sharp tug, front and back. Satisfied with his appearance, he turned his attention to the others in the cabin.
"Well, you don't 'alf look the part Warden," chirped Goniff from his seat at the table. Garrison gave him a rueful smile, but said nothing. The pickpocket was wearing his dark suit, white shirt and black bow tie ready for his short, but vital role at the reception. His cheeriness covered the nerves that were gnawing at his insides.
"Ha! So do you Limey. I guess you're gonna be the original 'dumb waiter'," grinned Casino. The grin faded as he received a sharp elbowed nudge from his fair-haired friend.
"Huh! Leave it out Mate."
The safecracker's smirk returned as he began to look through the tool bag he had in front of him, checking he had all he might need for his own task later that night. Although he prided himself that most of the time he needed nothing other than his keen hearing and sensitive fingers to open any safe, it was good to have back up, just in case.
Goniff glanced into the bag. Two Luger pistols lay on top of screwdrivers, a hand drill and a stethoscope, amongst the other paraphernalia he could see.
"You gonna shoot the combination out then?" teased the Englishman, knowing that was not going to happen.
"Yeah, that's a sure way for us to get dead!" Casino snapped, then looked up into humour filled blue eyes. "I'm taking your gun in for you, a waiter packing a piece is a giveaway," he added without mirth.
"Not in Chicago it ain't – they all carry."
Garrison let the banter between the two men continue, he knew they were keyed up as the time for action approached. They were all keyed up, but dealt with it in different ways and he was learning that this was Goniff and Casino's way. He looked at his other two charges, Actor was sitting in the large chair, puffing contentedly on his pipe, unreadable as ever. Chief was at the window, still keeping watch, even though he knew Gaston had men posted in the woods. As for himself, he had maps to check and double check and the whole plan to go over in his head again. Unaware of an action the other men had already come to know, the officer rolled his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension that was already knotting his back and clawing into his neck. The responsibility to get the mission done and all five of them safely back to England sat firmly with him. He flipped his wrist and checked the time on his watch; the Frenchman was due back soon with their transport.
The Lieutenant moved to stand in front of the man who had somehow become his second in command. Intelligent, quizzical, brown eyes looked up into equally intelligent blue/green and held their level gaze.
"If anything happens tonight and I don't make it, you already know to meet Gaston back here. Any problems with that, two others you can trust here are Jacques Duval and Maurice Lafitte, they have businesses in town, a baker and a garage owner. The password is 'Exodus' and the response 'Romans'."
Actor considered the officer's words; he rarely mentioned the possibility that he would not survive. Was he more worried about this apparently straightforward mission than he would admit or was he just becoming more relaxed about sharing information? The Italian knew the Lieutenant would not share the responsibility he carried, not until he had absolutely no other choice. Garrison would do his duty to the bitter end, whatever the end was and no matter how bitter. The man nodded his acceptance and gave a brief smile.
"Someone has been studying their Bible, Warden. I should be able to remember the reply."
"Try to remember both Actor," said the younger man with a wry smile. He held the brown eyed gaze for a moment longer before he turned away. He then crossed to the window and joined Chief who was still watching the outer edges of the clearing. The Indian said nothing, giving only the slightest movement of his dark head to acknowledge his commander's presence.
"You all set?" Garrison studied the youngest member of his group who nodded once but remained silent. "Remember the Château is right at the bottom of the main street. You wait for us outside the grounds, where I showed you on the map, less chance of anyone speaking to you."
"I know what I'm doin'." The dark eyes turned away from the window and looked directly at the Lieutenant. Chief knew the man was going through the plan with him as much for his own benefit, as for anyone else. No more words were exchanged. Garrison moved away, leaving the Indian to return to his silent vigil. As he left, he allowed his hand to rest briefly on the man's shoulder, a confirmation of support, understanding and more importantly, inclusion. Chief glanced at the place where the fingers had paused, then turned back to the window. The officer was concerned about them, all of them, it was becoming more apparent every time they went out. Was it too strong to say the man cared? He could not remember a time when anyone had shown care or concern for him and it was proving to be difficult to accept. Well, maybe there had been one other person, but she was lost to him now. It still surprised him that Garrison had left the others to save him from certain death during their mission in Norway. Nobody had ever put themself in danger on his behalf, his Native American heritage didn't warrant it; he didn't count. The Warden had changed all of that by risking his own life for him. Chief's thoughts stopped, as he watched a Citroën van pull slowly into the clearing.
GGGGG
Actor sat back, comfortably at ease in the rear seat of the German staff car and in his role as Oberst Baumann. Garrison sat beside him in his Leutnant's uniform, he was nowhere near as relaxed as his confidence man appeared to be. Both men looked to the right as the car cleared the wooded area and the Château was seen in reality for the first time. They were approaching from the rear, the manicured lawns swept down to a lazily flowing river, an elegant bridge carried the road they were on across the water and into the town. The cream-coloured building had pinnacled turrets, red tiled roofs and numerous windows all sparkling in the late evening sunlight. The view looked like something from a book of fairy tales, but there were ugly grey scars to mar the idyllic scene. Two German pill boxes stood in defence of this rear aspect, the occupants were pacing their rounds as the car passed on the opposite bank of the river. The two men in the back seat exchanged a look, but said nothing.
Chief drove steadily over the bridge and turned right, they were immediately on a town street, tree lined, on one side only. Another right turn between two of the trees took them straight into the outer court of the Château, a fountain played in the centre and a cobbled semi-circular drive led to the open front doors. The young driver was still surprised to be right in the middle of town despite having seen Garrison's map more than once. The Indian brought the vehicle to a brief stop while passes were checked, then drove slowly to the bottom of a short flight of steps leading up to the entrance. He jumped out of the car, opened the back door and stood to attention as his passengers stepped out, climbed the shallow steps together and disappeared into the building. Chief released the breath he was not even aware that he was holding and returned to the driver's seat. He drove away from the Château and over the bridge again, he would return later and park the staff car in the place the Lieutenant had indicated. Once there he just had to sit and wait.
GGGGG
"Cor, can you smell that?" Goniff's nose was twitching. "It's makin' me hungry."
"Everything makes you hungry!" muttered Casino as the two men jolted around, hidden in the back of the baker's van that was their transport from the cabin to the town.
"It's cruel that's wot it is. All them smells of fresh bread and not a crumb to eat."
"Yeah! Well, the Warden wouldn't be too pleased if you ate our cover for getting into the place. This bread is for the Krauts, not you."
Three sharp knocks on the divider between the driver and the cargo space silenced the men. The two cons froze as the van slowed and then stopped. With hearts in their mouths they listened to a brief conversation being held in a mixture of French and German. When the vehicle moved forwards, they both relaxed slightly. There would be no search, but danger still surrounded them.
Gaston drove slowly to the side of the Château, parked close to a service entrance and walked around to the back of the van. He opened the double doors and picked up a basket of bread, the two men inside moved forwards. The Resistance leader then signalled for Goniff to pick up a tray of baked goods and turned to go. The pickpocket's blue eyes looked Heavenwards, as his stomach rumbled, so close and yet so far, but he jumped down, reached back to pick up his burden of temptation and followed in the Frenchman's wake. Casino smiled briefly at his friend's discomfort as he also made his way into the building. Dressed in overalls and with his tool bag in his hand, he looked the part, simply that of a workman called in to make emergency repairs.
Just as planned the three men split up as they gained entry, Gaston and Goniff took the basket and tray to the busy kitchen. Casino went towards the back stairs, found the store-room Garrison had shown him on the diagram of the building and let himself in, picking the lock in seconds. There he would wait until the thief returned, then his own major role in the mission drama would begin. He hoped he would not have to wait too long.
Goniff licked his lips, not only at the glorious sight and delicious aromas of the food in the kitchen but because his mouth was dry with nerves. He was on his own, Gaston had gone back to wait in the van for him and Casino once the job was done. As briefed, he made his way down the corridor towards the sommelier, a dapper grey-haired man busy pouring white wine into glasses set on silver salvers. The pickpocket checked his watch, Casino would have had time to hide by now. So, in a few minutes time, he would have to go into the reception. He picked up a cloth and began to polish some glasses.
His self-appointed task finished, Goniff went to collect his tray of drinks. The sommelier spoke to him, the blond shook his head then tapped his ears and his lips with his fingers. The other man looked puzzled for a moment, but nodded, he had to take staff where he could to assist with these functions. This man had very likely been injured in the war and needed the money, he only had to walk around serving drinks, he didn't need to talk. It was probably safer for him not to be able to hear anything either, some of the officers were less than discreet with information or opinions.
The little thief's hands were remarkably steady when he picked up the salver, considering how much he was shaking inside. In that moment he wondered why he had agreed to join this crazy set-up with Garrison, but immediately countered his own thought. Working with these men, even if he died doing it, had to be better than festering away in that cell in Sing-Sing. Now he was back on the outside, he had vowed that he would never see the inside of a prison again. It no longer mattered to him how long his life might be, he just wanted to live it. Goniff raised his head, pushed his shoulders back and with his natural smile fixed into place he walked calmly into a room full of Germans.
GGGGG
Actor nodded, his attention focussed entirely on his companion, or was it? Although he appeared to be engrossed by the SS Colonel's conversation the man was completely aware of what was going on in the room. Garrison's eyes moved away from his confidence man and swept the large but elegant salon that provided the venue for the reception. The wooden shutters and heavy brocade curtains had already been closed, soft lighting picked out the muted colours in the fabrics and wall-coverings and to add to the genteel ambiance, a string quartet played a selection of music by Strauss. The attitude of the German hosts was relaxed and civil but there was an underlying air of deep-seated arrogance that left no one in any doubt of who was in charge, not only in the Château, but in the whole of France and most of mainland Europe. Their confidence in their own undoubted superiority was suffocating.
The Lieutenant watched Janine moving around the room, she was playing her part well, but he needed to see Goniff in here and soon. Had the thief and the safecracker made it into the Château, or had they been stopped by patrols en-route? He could feel the muscles in his jaw grow tight with the frustration of not knowing where they were and his natural concern for his men. He managed to catch the eye of the waitress, and she made her way towards him.
"Any sign of them?" he asked quietly, in French, taking a glass of wine from her tray.
"No M'sieu, not yet." She smiled at him, inclined her head and moved away.
Garrison let his breath out slowly, trying to steady himself, there was nothing he could do but wait. He took a sip of the cool, crisp wine and continued to observe the hosts and guests for a few minutes. Waiting, however, was not always his strong suit and although he had plain sight of two very ornate ormolu clocks, he flipped his wrist to check his own watch.
"Are you bored, Leutnant?"
The American turned to the speaker, a stocky and rather florid faced SS Major who was accompanied by a much older Wehrmacht Colonel.
"No, Herr Major." Garrison brought himself to attention in acknowledgement of rank, then relaxed, this was, after all, a social occasion. He smiled politely, "Not at all, Sir."
The SS man's over appreciative, lascivious, eyes followed Janine as she moved slowly around the salon serving drinks. He gave the junior officer a knowing grin, then introduced the Colonel.
"This is Oberst Huber, he has been serving in Berlin recently and has some very interesting stories to tell about his time there."
Within minutes the younger man found himself alone with the Colonel. The Major had skilfully set him up to listen to the ranking officer and had then slipped away. He nodded and feigned interest as appropriate then, at last, over the rim of his wine glass he saw Goniff moving confidently amongst the party goers. Garrison let out a long, slow, sigh of relief. The Englishman was also playing his part well. A half smile pulled briefly at the Lieutenant's lips, he liked the pickpocket but of the four cons, he was probably the most vulnerable and sometimes, despite his background, he did not seem as worldly wise as the others. Right now, their mission rested on the slight shoulders of a man who spoke no French and no German but was surrounded by both, and that took guts.
"Do you play Bridge Leutnant?"
"No Sir."
"I hate the game but ..."
The Colonel droned on. A quick look around the room told Garrison that Goniff had gone, the signal that the job was now underway, and he had to get away from this man, but he was a senior officer in the branch of the service the Lieutenant supposedly belonged to. Another glance confirmed that a large group of German officers now had Actor well and truly engaged in conversation. One of them had to break away in the next few minutes and get to the storeroom, meet the others and go upstairs to that office.
GGGGG
"Where the hell is the Warden or Beautiful? One of 'em was supposed to be here."
"When I left, they were both talkin' to a couple of 'Big Cheese' Jerries, looks like they couldn't get away."
"Why'd ya leave then?"
"Well, what could I do? I didn't want to 'ang around too long, did my one round of the room, like I was told and got out of there. They could be stuck for ages."
"Yeah. It was always a dumb idea to go to that party. We coulda just broken in!" Casino stopped grumbling just long enough to give his colleague a sharp nudge. "Let's go up there, get what we came for and come back here to meet 'em – if they ever show up."
The two men moved quickly and quietly to the back staircase, previously used by the servants going about their duties in the small but exquisite Château, keeping them well out of sight of their wealthy employers. Both hoped and prayed, although neither would admit the latter, that they did not meet any Germans. Gaining the second-floor corridor, with Lugers already in their hands, they crept noiselessly along the richly carpeted floor. Only the occasional laugh from behind the closed doors they passed, reached their ears, the laughter was not always male.
"Sounds like she's havin' a good time," muttered Casino. "Thought the Lieutenant and Actor were at the party to stop anyone sneaking out. Like I said – dumb idea."
Goniff grinned nervously at the comments, his cornflower blue eyes darted around the corridor looking for any movement.
"'Oo says she was at the party to start wiv? Coulda been up 'ere all night."
Arriving at the room they wanted, the Italian-American tried the door handle. Finding it locked, he spat his home-made sprung steel pick into his hand and in seconds had the lock undone. The two men exchanged a look and took a deep breath before Casino eased the door open. Both hoped there wasn't a reception committee on the other side waiting for them with pistols drawn, a shoot-out was the last thing they wanted or needed. They stepped inside, giving audible sighs of relief to find the room empty. A single, silk shaded, lamp suffused the elegantly furnished office with soft light.
"Should we lock it?" hissed Goniff.
"Nah! We might need to get outta here fast."
"Somebody might come in."
"So, stand there and make sure they don't."
The dark-haired man dropped his tool bag on the floor and put his pistol on the mahogany desk that dominated the room, unwilling to have to compensate for the weight once he began to work on the combination of the safe. Going straight to the obligatory portrait of 'Der Fuhrer' he pulled it away from the wall to reveal what he already knew he would find. The Krauts were not very original.
GGGGG
The lilting piece of music being played by the string quartet, the chink of ice in crystal glasses and murmur of conversation were all at odds with the tight twist of tension Garrison could feel running straight across the breadth of his shoulders. He knew Chief was outside waiting with their vehicle. His eyes scanned the room yet again. Goniff had already made his way round with his drinks tray and disappeared as planned, but Actor was still held in conversation by that senior SS Colonel and his Hauptmann aide. He drew his attention back to the Wehrmacht Colonel who had him cornered, smiled politely at yet another inane remark, but somehow managed to catch the eye of his confidence man.
The Italian shot a hapless look at his commander. The Lieutenant knew he would have to be the one to be excused, he inclined his head, a signal to the tall Italian that he would make the move and at the same time an acknowledgement of something his verbose companion was saying. Then, before he could do anything else, help arrived from an unexpected source. The oscillating, insistent wail of the air raid siren broke the mood and the party. The Colonel instantly dismissed him and moved swiftly towards the stairs that led to the basement. Garrison headed for Actor's group immediately and with a sharp click of his heels in salute, he addressed his senior officer.
"Herr Oberst, I think we should seek shelter." His voice and demeanour were calm but inside he was desperate to get to his other men and find out whether they were still waiting or had become impatient and already gone to the office.
"Thank you Leutnant Reiter," said Actor. "We will go now, but we all know that the Royal Air Force miss more than they hit." The group of men all laughed, while the Hauptmann threw the newcomer a look of thanks and of relief.
"We will bring them down in even greater numbers once our new anti-aircraft guns are operational," added the SS Colonel.
Still laughing, the officers began to make their way from the elegant reception room with the other guests. The aide took up position with his superior, Garrison and Actor slowed their pace to walk together.
"What now?" asked the Italian quietly. "Surely there is nothing here to bomb."
The other man shook his head, looked skywards and shrugged. He had no idea why this small town should be a target. Just their luck! Good or bad? Time would tell.
"It could be a diversionary raid to draw the night fighters away from the main force. Go outside to Chief. We'll have to get out of town, can't risk going into the shelters. I'll go for the others. Have you seen Janine?"
"Yes," Actor nodded, "she was going towards the kitchen, the staff will undoubtedly have access to somewhere to take cover."
"Good, she'll know how to get out of here safely. We'll meet you at the car." The Lieutenant paused. "If we are not out in 20 minutes or it gets too rough out there – just go." The two men exchanged a look of understanding, then turned away from each other.
The American officer headed for the storeroom, as the conman moved towards the main entrance. The salon and hallway were now almost empty, and nobody challenged either of the two men going in opposite directions to everyone else. The noise of the approaching aircraft was getting louder and the crump of bombs and exploding ordnance could now be heard in the far distance. How long would it take for them to be overhead?