The Mansion - December 28th, 1943
Two days later and Actor still wasn't well enough to get out of bed except for trips to the bathroom. Amber kept him well supplied with books, but mostly he dozed off after only having read a few pages. Food still didn't really appeal, but he was managing to drink warm water with a little honey.
Despite the fact that Goniff was normally the one to get sickest, this time he'd not been hit as hard as the conman. He still had a slight temperature and no appetite, but at least he wasn't wheezing.
Amber had been strict about infection control, banning visitors from the infected men's bedrooms and being a tyrant over hand washing. It must have worked as after forty eight hours of quarantine no-one else had come down with the virus. Thank god he'd allowed the men to move to separate bedrooms in the house rather than occupy the camp beds in the common room, thought Garrison. If they'd still been sleeping communally there'd have been no chance of anyone avoiding catching the flu.
Amber's sisters Emerald and Sapphire, who were working as land girls on the local farm had luckily missed out, so far, on catching the virus - despite having been close to both infected men on Christmas Eve. Em had been persuaded to move into the Mansion for a few days to spell her younger sister in her nursing duties.
Both girls were sharing one of the spare rooms and avoiding the main living areas. Food for the 'sick bay' was being delivered by Will and he was making sure he kept the washing up separate too. Laundry, he'd decided, could wait until the Lieutenant had left.
"Car's due in half an hour. Everyone ready?"
A chorus of 'Yeah's' from the library made the Warden smile. The cars had been an inspiration, keeping scrapping to a minimum during their enforced 'lockdown'. There was a long way to go before they had the 'one completed vehicle' but at least that offered potential for future stand-downs. It hadn't been completely without incident of course, but Casino's high spirits had been confined to the obstacle course. He'd failed in his attempt to throw Chief into the mud wallow under the rope bridge but he had managed to shove Diesel off the log into the stream, which gave him some satisfaction although he knew he'd probably pay for it at some point in the future.
Diesel had simply pulled himself out of the stream laughing, with tendrils of water weed dangling from his hair. Hitting the cold water had been a shock but in view of what he'd done to Casino's shoulder on their last mission it hadn't been unexpected. The Mohawk set off in pursuit of the other two, but knew he had no chance of catching Chief.
"Truck's coming." The growl of a diesel engine confirmed what Chief had said.
"Hey Warden, ya gonna tell us what we're doin' at some point?" queried Casino. It was almost unheard of to go on a mission without one of Garrison's signature briefings, but so far the Lieutenant hadn't said a word.
"Don't worry, Casino. It can wait 'til we get to Italy."
"What about Beautiful, he's the only one speaks the lingo?"
"It's sorted," snapped the Lieutenant, putting an end to the matter.
Garrison picked up his kitbag and strolled out into the hallway. He looked up the staircase to the landing where Amber and Em were providing a send-off party. Sergeant Major Fletcher had emerged from the kitchen, where he'd been dealing with the latest batch of crockery. He was, rather incongruously, wearing one of Molly's frilly pinnies to keep his battledress clean. The Warden bit gently on the inside of his cheek to keep the grin off his face.
"Don't worry, Sir, they'll be well looked after. Should be right as rain when you get back."
The Lieutenant had no doubt about that. It would have been so much worse if he'd had to put Actor and Goniff in either the stockade or the base hospital. With a quick wave to the girls he ran outside to join the other three in the back of the truck.
GG GG GG GG
Probably because Goniff wasn't on the mission, the C-47 flight to Gibralter then on to Capodichino in Italy was one of the smoothest they'd ever had. Unfortunately that didn't include the landing. By the time the plane touched down the heavens had opened, the runway was awash and it was only by some miracle that the skidding aircraft missed the rows of Spitfires lined up alongside.
"Welcome to Italy," quipped Casino, his heart rate starting to come back somewhat to normal.
"It's winter, Casino. It rains a lot around here."
"Hey, is that a volcano?" Chief was trying to peer through the water cascading down the small windows, but thought he could see steam or smoke pouring from the top of an adjacent mountain.
"Vesuvius," supplied the Warden. He'd been here before in the early thirties and done the full sight-seeing bit. He peered over Chief's shoulder - the volcano was much more active than when he'd been here last.
"It'll just be our bad luck that it'll blow while we're over here," muttered Casino grumpily.
"Thought you liked explosions, Pappy?"
Chief was treated to one of the safecracker's more disgusted expressions. He in turn responded with one of his enigmatic smiles that often meant a wrestling match was imminent. Fortunately the appearance of the navigator strolling back down the aircraft to open the rear door distracted everyone's attention and the moment passed without bloodshed.
The rain shower had passed as quickly as it had arrived, but it would take a while for the water level to drop. A truck had detached itself from the conglomeration of tents that seemed to be doing duty as barracks, mess hall and whatever other facilities the airbase required. Several of the tents were now partially submerged, with their desperate occupants trying vainly to rescue clothes, bedding and personal possessions before they were completely saturated.
Casino shook his head in amazement. "I thought we had it bad. Can you imagine being stuck here for months on end. It'd do my head in."
The truck pulled up alongside. Its driver, a USAAF corporal seemed cheerful enough, despite the conditions. "I guess you're Garrison's lot. Can't be anyone else crazy enough to fly in from choice." He pulled the vehicle close enough to the ladder so that the men could step across without getting wet feet. "Ferry service to Naples comin' up. Hold on tight, it'll be a bumpy ride."
GG GG GG GG
Naples had suffered badly during its liberation the previous September, mostly at the hands of the retreating Germans, with the water poisoned, food factories destroyed and buildings blown-up. Garrison was glad that their stay there would only be short. With only a few hours to wait before it was dark enough for their patrol boat to leave, the team had been billeted in a room in the Royal Palace that was being used as barracks for the naval officers.
It could have been worse. The roof didn't leak, there was a bed and armchairs to relax in or on and dinner, of a sort, had been provided.
A young marine came to collect them at 6pm and take them down to the docks. A couple of bombed hulks still decorated the harbour, but judging by the bustle on the wharves shipping was in full flow again. Their transport, a fast Patrol Boat of about 20m in length, was bobbing gently against the jetty, her crew lounging on the deck smoking.
The captain separated himself from his men and came over to meet the newcomers. "Garrison, Lieutenant Tregenna. Welcome on board." English, with a west-country accent, the Royal Navy man was stocky with a full brown beard and would have looked as at home on a fishing boat as on his naval vessel. "We're short handed tonight so there's plenty of room for your men to stow themselves and their kit. The bad news is that the dinghy was damaged yesterday so you're going to have to wade ashore when we get there."
Garrison grimaced slightly. It was something he hadn't factored in to the planning. "How long?"
"Conditions are good, so we'll probably average about 25 knots... say seven or eight hours if the u-boats don't delay us."
Garrison nodded. That matched with what he'd thought. "Get on board," he instructed the other three curtly. Seeing them step safely across the gap to the swaying deck he followed his men on board. This was the worst thing about this job, he thought. The amount of time spent hanging around. He made his way below decks, found a comfortable corner and settled down for the duration.