Chapter 1 – The Warden
First Lieutenant Craig Garrison, US Army, sat at his desk mulling through reports, wishing that Command would make up its mind about whether or not his team of convicts had proven its worth. After four weeks of intensive training and two reasonably successful missions completed he thought he'd more than demonstrated that his proposal of using a small team of highly skilled convicts to pull off special ops raids behind enemy lines was a good one.
He'd come up with the idea while convalescing from his injuries received while fighting in North Africa. He'd been shipped Stateside to get treatment for his head wounds and amnesia, the wounds had healed but there was still a hole in his memory into which the events of his unit's battle with the Germans had disappeared. Specialists had assured him that everything would eventually come back but he wasn't holding out much hope on that count.
Craig's father, General George Garrison had taken the chance to visit his son in hospital a few times. He was due to go to England to help co-ordinate the Allied defence and then make plans for the invasion of Europe. During their talks they'd discussed, amongst other things, the urgent need for specialist covert teams that could go behind enemy lines to sabotage the Nazi war effort as well as collect and plant information that could wreak havoc with German Intelligence. The three-star General had lamented the lack of the necessary skills required to perform these activities in the people that made up the rank and file of the Army; these were the very skills that prevented the individuals that had them from enlisting in the first place.
This discussion planted a seed in Craig's fertile brain and he spent a couple of days nurturing the growing idea until it came to fruition. There were people out there with the necessary expertise, he just had to persuade the Army it needed to recruit them. This could be problematic as the regulations quoted, 'applicants may not enlist in the Army as an alternative to criminal prosecution, indictment, incarceration, parole, probation, or another punitive sentence. They are ineligible for enlistment until the original assigned sentence would have been completed.' He was well aware of that but these were extraordinary times and they called for extraordinary people. He ran the idea past his father and after a long, animated discussion the General agreed it was worth a try and would set up a Board so he could put his case forward for consideration.
He recalled how he'd argued with the Board of high-ranking officers that it would take years to train 'normal' soldiers to become even half decent safe-crackers, thieves or confidence men. Ethics of right and wrong would had been drummed into most of them from an early age and, along with army discipline, they might not be willing to cross the moral line into criminal territory. He stressed that these were skills that were desperately needed now. He eventually convinced them that there was a ready supply of acknowledged 'experts' sitting in prison wasting their talents who could possibly be persuaded to exchange their skills in return for the promise of a parole. These types of men would not hesitate to return to their old, larcenous ways to get out of prison.
Garrison pointed out they were 'tools' that could be used as required to get whatever job done that was needed to be done. They were cons and hoods who didn't need to be treated the same as soldiers and their well-being came low on the list of priorities when it came to accommodating them. They could be transported to England, kept in the stockade and taken out on missions when required.
Why should these two-bit punks sit out the war in a comfy prison when they could be doing something useful for their country? It wouldn't matter about the attrition rate, cons were a dime a dozen. They would always be kept in line with the threat of being sent back to where they came from and the promise of a parole if they succeeded. There was also the added bonus that the army wouldn't have to pay them. It was all cut and dried.
Even as he was saying those things he knew deep down he hadn't been brought up to think that way, but close association with more traditionally raised peers during his school and Academy years had coloured his thinking. His friends had denigrated people of all colours and creeds and poured scorn on the 'criminal class'. He hadn't actively joined in but neither had he objected to their behaviour. Gradually his mind had been poisoned drop by drop without him realising.
The Board had, mostly, backed his idea and given him the go-ahead to locate, interview and 'recruit' a small, select number of convicts. He'd already decided what skills would be the most useful to make a successful team, research was done and he was given a list of names and criminal records to go through. He was told to pick the most promising and then go and see if his powers of persuasion would work on these hardened, streetwise prisoners.
The Board assured him that if he was successful the army would find somewhere secure to confine them. He'd been amused to find out it was an old mansion near Colchester, Essex, in the South-East of England not far from London. It was located right next to an army camp and had been loaned to the Army by the owners to be used for whatever purpose was deemed necessary while they spent the duration in Canada. One wing had been fitted with bars on the windows and extra security features. These, along with extra armed guards, would guarantee the cons would comply with military rules and regulations and discourage any attempts at escape.
That had all started four months ago. He leaned back in his chair, ran his fingers through his light-brown hair and thought about the diverse and unconventional members of his team. He shook his head and gave a wry smile as he recalled the two months it had taken to find and get them together once he'd gotten the go-ahead. That was an experience never to be forgotten and eventually it had changed his attitude and his life.