Chapter 7 – Secrets
The staff car sped along the road to London and the debrief with General Fremont. Garrison wound down the passenger-side window, leaned back and sucked in lungfuls of fresh air. A quiet chuckle came from the driver's side. "Didn't our early mornin' run clear your head Warden?"
Garrison turned to look at Chief, the side of his mouth curled up into a small, crooked smile. "I thought it had, still got a bit of a headache though."
Chief gave him a sidelong glance and pointed to a bag on the floor next to Garrison's feet. "And you call me a lightweight. There's water 'n painkillers in there, brought 'em along just in case."
Garrison bent down and retrieved the bag and its contents, he took out a couple of tablets and gratefully washed them down. "You're a lifesaver. I can't afford to be less than a hundred per cent where Fremont's concerned, he's always looking for an excuse to get rid of us."
Chief concentrated on the road ahead. "I know. Don't worry, I always got your back Warden."
Garrison leaned back and waited for the painkillers to kick in. "Yes you do, I don't know what I'd do without you. Casino suggested I hire you as a babysitter after the war."
Chief laughed out loud. "Babysitter? Had enough of that when we got those kids outta Germany and I ain't dressin' up like no nanny again, not even for you, once was enough. Anyway you don't need a babysitter, you can take care of yourself."
Garrison gave a soft snort. "Glad you think so, Casino says otherwise."
"Don't pay no mind to what Pappy says, he's talkin' nonsense as usual." Chief started to slow down as they entered the outer suburbs of London. "Don't worry about Fremont Warden, maybe things'll change, you never know."
"Would make my life a whole lot easier. I know he's my commanding officer and deserves respect, but there are times Chief when I want to punch the bastard out." Garrison was surprised he'd made that admission out loud, he glanced at the man he now regarded as a close friend and confidante and knew his remark would go no further.
Chief looked amused. "Have I gotta stop you getting' in trouble, again? Thought you'd learned your lesson with Hardin, you really wanna get busted down to private don't you? No fightin' the General, if you want him outta the way I'll do it for you, my pleasure."
Garrison saw his scout grinning at him, he shook his head and smiled back. "I appreciate the gesture, let's keep each other out of trouble and leave the General alone."
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An hour later Garrison was beginning to regret his words, his resolve was being severely tested as he sat through the debrief. He realised he was unconsciously clenching his fists as he listened to Fremont's ranting about his team and tried to stop, in the end he kept his hands hidden from the General's sight. Yes, they'd brought back the information requested but Fremont criticised how they'd achieved it. Why hadn't he realised Josef was a German agent? Why couldn't he have followed the escape plan and taken a boat out to the waiting sub? What possessed him to steal a German flying boat instead, bring it back and land it in Colchester of all places? Did Garrison know how much trouble he'd caused doing that? Why couldn't he follow orders? He even seemed to think the air raid was somehow the Lieutenant's fault and should have done something about it.
Garrison resisted the urge to tell the General that it was the poor information he'd given them that contributed to the near failure of the mission, how they would have been captured or killed if they'd followed his orders or used his escape plan. He wanted to praise his men for their bravery and ingenuity in the face of impossible odds, how Chief had gone above and beyond to get the information. He wanted so badly to tell Fremont in no uncertain terms that he was an idiot and where he could stick his opinion of his men, but he knew if he did Fremont would have no hesitation in disbanding the team and sending them back to prison. Instead he sat quietly and contented himself with the vision of Chief dispatching the General as only he could until the tirade was over, it gave him a warm feeling.
At last it seemed the General had run out of steam, he seemed disappointed at Garrison's lack of reaction to his comments and hadn't noticed he hadn't been listening to him for the last ten minutes. He picked up the list of double agents and thought how much credit he could take for providing the information and the subsequent arrest of the traitors, he smiled as he considered how this would contribute towards getting his next star. He glared at the Lieutenant. "Dismissed."
Garrison stood up, saluted and left the room. He'd seen the look on Fremont's face and knew his team would get no credit or recognition for their actions. Damn the man! He almost turned round to march back into Fremont's office and punch him out cold, it was only the thought of Chief going back to the hell he'd suffered in Attica that stopped him, he would never do that to his friend.
Chief took one look at Garrison's face as he stormed out of the building and knew what had happened. "You look like you need a drink Warden."
Garrison threw himself into the car, slammed the door and lit a much needed cigarette. "You don't know the half of it." He relented and let the rage subside. "Was it that obvious?" He gave a rueful smile as Chief nodded. "Sorry, I was mad that he was going to take all the credit for your work."
"That's ok Warden, didn't think he'd do anythin' else." Chief started the car, headed out the security gates and turned towards Colchester. Halfway through the journey Chief turned the car into the parking area of a small country pub he'd noticed on the many trips they'd made back and forth. "Let's you 'n me get some lunch and a beer, I'm buyin'," he declared as he switched off the engine, preventing any objection that Garrison might have made.
Chief walked up to the bar, ordered beer and sandwiches and waited while the order was filled. He returned with a tray and joined Garrison in a quiet corner of the pub. He watched as the Warden took a deep draft of beer, followed by a huge bite of the cheese sandwich he'd got him. "Feelin' better?"
Garrison looked up and smiled. "Much better, thanks." He looked bemused. "Why do I let Fremont get to me so much?"
"Cos you're our leader and you care about your team, that's why." Chief looked at the man he vowed to protect with his life. "Warden, you've always done the right thing by us, yeah you're tough on us but look at what you're workin' with, we're not exactly the easiest bunch to manage. You know what we're capable of 'n you expect the best from us, that's what you'll always get 'cos we know you always give us your best. You're the first to step up when someone like Fremont badmouths what we've done. You've stood by us right from the start, no-one else would do that for a bunch of cons like us, that's what makes you special, that's what makes us a great team, only you could've done that, we wouldn't have done it for anyone else."
Garrison was shocked into silence at Chief's statement, he knew how much he appreciated and supported his team, he hadn't realised how much that was appreciated and reflected back by the men other people dismissed as just hardened criminals, he felt proud and humbled.
Chief sat back and took a sip of his beer. "Just wanted you to know we've all got your back as much as you got ours. Don't think we haven't noticed."
Garrison smiled. "Thanks Chief, you don't know how much that means to me."
Chief grinned. "I mean what I said, any time you want Fremont gone, he's gone."
Garrison took another sip of his beer. "No, I think I can put up with him for a bit longer without punching his lights out."
"Don't worry about him Warden." Chief wondered how much he could reassure his friend without giving away anything about what he'd been doing. "I'm sure things will work out in the end and Fremont will be nothin' but a bad memory."
Garrison leaned back in his seat and lit a cigarette, he watched the smoke curl up to the ceiling and wondered about how Chief could be so certain about what would happen. "I hope so."
The rest of their lunch passed in amicable silence, Garrison sipped his beer and realised how much he appreciated Chief's quiet presence, he felt calmer after the turmoil of his debrief with Fremont. Not for the first time he gave serious thought as to how the supposedly vicious, mindless, cold-blooded killer his scout had been made out to be in his prison records was actually a calm, intelligent, compassionate man who cared about him and his team. He silently vowed if he ever got his hands on Pryor, Finch or any of the wardens that had abused and used him for their own gains he'd give them some payback of his own. He got up and ordered two more beers so he could enjoy his quiet lunch in his scout's company for a bit longer.
Eventually Chief reluctantly looked at his watch, he'd been enjoying the time with Garrison away from Casino's and Goniff's incessant bickering but realised they had to return. "It's nearly half past two, we gotta get back Warden."
Garrison sighed and finished his beer. "I suppose so, thanks for this Chief, it was good to have a break from being a Lieutenant."
Chief caught the despondent tone in Garrison's voice and cursed Fremont's stupidity and his treatment of the outstanding officer under his command. He leaned forward and gripped his friend's arm. "You're not a Lieutenant, you're our Lieutenant, don't ever forget that Warden. I told you before if you ever doubt yourself you'll be answerin' to me 'n I still mean that."
Garrison smiled. "As I recall I said it would be a very short answer. Thanks Chief"
"No problem." Chief got up and lead the way to the car. Garrison relaxed and dozed for the rest of the journey, watched over by his scout as he drove slowly to give him time to rest before they got back to the hectic hubbub that was life at the mansion.
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The next day passed as usual. Garrison and Chief went out for their early run before the Warden spent the rest of his morning going through the never-ending paperwork that seemed to appear whenever he left his office for five minutes. He smiled as he listened to his men bickering on the firing range outside his window, there was even the occasional salvo of shots as Sergeant Major Ellis managed to line them up and persuade them to take aim and fire. After lunch he decided he'd had enough, changed into his fatigues and joined his men out on the obstacle course. He put up with the good natured jostling and laughed when Chief dumped Casino in the mud pit alongside him with the friendly warning that if he did that to the Warden again he'd be hanging upside down from the rope slide.
On the way back Chief walked next to Garrison, he looked at the relaxed, happy and very muddy Lieutenant. "Is it ok with you if I meet up with Drummond later on? He asked for some help with somethin' he's workin' on." Chief was happy he wasn't lying to the Warden, that was exactly what he was doing. "It won't take long, promise no-one'll try 'n take me away."
Garrison stopped, the dried mud round his mouth cracked as he smiled. "You don't need my permission, as you said, your free time is yours to spend as you want." He playfully flicked a blob of mire at his scout. "I'll send out a search party if you're not back by ten."
Chief wiped the mud off his shirt. "I'll be back long before that, thought we were playin' chess tonight. I'm plannin' on givin' you a run for your money this time."
"Looking forward to it." Garrison paused. "Oh yes, I got a phone call from Wing Commander Williams this morning, evidently the flight crew he sent to retrieve the BV-138 can't get it to start. Care to enlighten me on that?"
Chief shifted uncomfortably under Garrison's steady, knowing gaze like a small child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Might've taken a couple a fuses, can't we keep it? Never had a pet Sea Dragon."
Garrison shook his head and chuckled. "Dragon's drink more fuel and consume more ammunition than I can afford on my limited budget Chief. The RAF will give it a good home, I'm sure they'll let us borrow it if we need it for a mission. Just put the fuses back and we'll say no more about it, alright?" He looked for the rest of the team and saw they were now well ahead of them. "Come on, race you back to the mansion." As usual he came in second.
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Sergeant Major Drummond opened the door to Major Richards' office, ushered Chief inside and stepped in behind him. The stocky, grey-haired commando stood up. "Were you followed?"
Drummond shook his head. "No Sir, Chief made sure of that."
"Good." Richards extended a hand in greeting, shook Chief's and invited him to sit down. Chief cast a swift glance at a second, higher-ranking commando officer sitting at the table. Richards made the introductions. "Chief this is General Howard, he's the one making things possible for your transfer over to us. General Howard, this is Chief, he's Lieutenant Garrison's scout, the one I've been telling you about."
The tall, sandy-haired General leaned forward and shook Chief's hand. "Pleased to meet you, I've heard a lot about you and your team and read the mission reports. You've done exceptional work, it's a pity Fremont doesn't appreciate that."
Richards turned to the General. "As you know Sir, Chief agreed to assist the Sergeant Major and myself in our little project a couple of weeks ago and has proven invaluable." He shifted his gaze to the scout. "You'll be pleased to know the first phase was a success, Drummond tells me you're willing to join us if we take this forward."
Chief nodded. "Yeah, but you gotta tell the Warden about this, I don't like goin' behind his back and he's getting' suspicious about what I'm up to."
Howard frowned. "The Warden?"
Richards smiled. "It's what the team call Lieutenant Garrison. Don't forget Sir they are convicts and technically Garrison is their jailer."
"Oh, I see." Howard leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and regarded the quietly spoken, dark-haired figure sitting opposite him. "We can't divulge anything yet Chief, this is still secret and we are the only four people who know about it. If Fremont gets the slightest whiff of what we're up to it'll go badly for you, your team and the Lieutenant. You know what General Fremont's like, he'll send you all back to prison and Garrison will most probably end up back in North Africa commanding a small platoon of dogfaces."
Richards nodded. "You're too valuable for that to happen. Now our scheme's got the official go-ahead will you give General Howard a week or two to get things sorted? After that I'll be happy to tell Garrison all about it personally."
Chief fixed the Major with a level gaze. "I'm tellin' you now, I won't carry on if you don't tell the Warden. He's my commander 'n unless I got his say so that he's ok about all this then my part in your scheme's over, I don't care how important you think it is. You got that?"
Richards heard the quiet determination in Chief's voice and knew he meant every word. "Got it Chief. I'll have that talk with him as soon as possible."
Chief stood up. "Alright Major, but Garrison can only take so much more from Fremont before he does somethin' about it," he gave Howard an intense look. "You got two weeks tops General, get it done or I'm gone." He nodded to Richards. "Major."
The Major nodded back. "Chief." He watched as Drummond and the scout turned and walked out of the room.
Howard turned to Richards with a bemused look on his face. "He's giving us orders?"
The Major smiled. "Don't forget Sir, he's not in the military, he's more what I would call a 'civilian consultant'."
The General stared at the door. "He's not what I was expecting, from what you told me about him I was expecting someone a lot bigger and more threatening."
Richards looked earnestly at his superior officer. "Chief standing still is a threat, you don't want to get him angry, that's certain death. Sir, that is the most dangerous man you'll ever meet and he's fiercely loyal to Garrison. He's a crack shot, his scores are higher than our best men. Did you see that sheath on his arm?"
Howard nodded. "I was going to ask about that."
"That's where he keeps his blade, he's deadlier with that than he is with a gun. He's also beaten Drummond in every combat session they've had, even when he first got here with broken ribs."
Howard looked amazed. "But Drummond's the best we got, that's why he's training our men."
"Yes Sir. Garrison found someone better, Drummond was the first to acknowledge that when he told me about Chief, now you know why I want him on my team."
Howard nodded. "Do you think Garrison will go for it? After all it is one of his men."
Richards shrugged. "Once he's under my command he won't have a choice, but I know Chief won't co-operate if I take that approach. Garrison is an intelligent man, he'll understand what we're doing once I've explained it to him, I expect he'll even support it."
The General took out a pack of cigarettes and shared them. "What about the rest of the Lieutenant's team of hoods?"
The Major leaned forward to light Howard's cigarette. "Sir, I know from first-hand experience that the rest of the team is just as good as Chief at what they do. Garrison did a good job of finding them and moulding them into a unit, no-one else could have done what he did, he's a fine if slightly unorthodox officer but that's what the team needs to be so successful. Fremont doesn't recognise any of that, he can't get past the idea that they're cons, we can't afford to lose any of them if he decides to send them back to prison on a whim."
Howard let out a long, slow breath. "I agree, I'll see if I can speed things up when I get back to London." He looked at the Major. "Have you given this project of yours a name yet?"
Richards smiled. "Yes Sir. The men want to call themselves 'Navajos' in honour of Chief."
