A Mission with a Difference
Chapter 2
They had made it through the lines with little trouble. The artillery peppered the enemy to the east then swung south as the team slipped through. They were now about three miles from their first target. In preparation for the next push a bridge over the Dives River was to be bombed to prevent reinforcements from arriving. Someone had decided that Mr. Hodgkins should get before, during and after photographs of the bridge. Being close enough to take pictures during the explosions was making Garrison nervous. Bombing was not an exact science. Bombs went wide. Looking at the flat terrain, he saw nowhere to take cover and no high ground for an aerial view. They could end up being collateral damage.
The men waited until after breakfast before Garrison, Actor and Hodgkins approached the bridge. Dressed as tourists Garrison and Actor convinced the German soldiers guarding the west side to allow them to take pictures of the brave soldiers helping to win the war for Hitler. Niklas, the more outspoken of the two, wanted to get permission from his Commanding Officer but Garrison told him that the CO would insist on being the hero in the pictures. Besides, what would it hurt? Maybe they could send a picture to his girl. Hodgkins got the shots he needed.
Back at their camp Casino had watched the trio through the binoculars. When 'the tourists' returned in their borrowed car he questioned the wisdom of sending a bomber to take out the dinky little bridge. Garrison told him the alternative was to plant the explosives themselves. "You want the job?"
"Probably do it better," he said under his breath but that was all. They had not brought explosives with them and they had no way to cancel the run. Let the flyboy take it.
At dusk they began their preparations. Goniff and Casino gathered up the wood they had collected earlier. Dressed in black Garrison and his scout set off toward the bridge while the others waited with the car. The two men approached the river's edge and followed it to the bridge. Chief slipped into the water and made his way under the structure to the other side and up the bank. They only had a short wait for Actor to arrive in the car attracting the guard's attention. Thus diverted the two men slipped in behind. The bridge was now unguarded. The two men hopped on the running boards and Actor drove the car over the ill-fated bridge stopping long enough to disgorge all his passengers and the wood from the trunk then pulled it far enough down the road to hopefully be out of range of the bombs. The wood was arranged for a quick start and a can of petrol sat nearby.
Checking his watch Garrison approached his Guardian. "It's time," he said quietly.
"Not here." He saw the questioning look so he tipped his head sharply in the newcomer's direction. Hodgkins was standing about ten feet away watching. Garrison understood and moved off. "You don't trust him?"
"No."
"Anything specific?"
"No."
Garrison understood. Guardians had a right to fear strangers.
Every fifteen minutes his Guardian, with his assistance, did a deep listen. Finally he heard the sound he was waiting for; the plane was on its way. He tried looking but it was too dark. He followed its progress and then pulled back. It was time. The fire was lit, the accelerant was added. The flair up would guide the plane in. They ran. Their photographer had been taking shots of the fire starting but when he saw them run he followed. Garrison had explained about the accuracy issue.
The first bomb hit the water indicating the plane was on track but would the second one hit the bridge? The second explosion blew rocks and dirt high into the air. Success! Except what goes up then comes down. The cons had taken Garrison's advice and had kept running. Hodgkins had stopped at his predetermined spot and had started shooting.
When the air began to clear Garrison looked up from the ditch he had taken refuge in and checked where the bridge had been. It was gone. Next he ran to where their photographer had been. He was down.
The fire was dying, not giving off much light so it was hard to see. Casino came running with the flashlight. They rolled him over. A quick check for a pulse and he said, "Hodgkins, wake up, we've got to go."
Slowly the prone man began to move. "What happened? Oh my head."
"He must have been hit with some of the debris," said Actor. They hauled him to his feet before hustling him away to where Actor had left the car.
That was where Casino noticed the wet mark on the crotch of the man's pants. "Not too brave for a war artist are you?" he said snidely.
"I don't remember you being so brave the first time you came under fire," pointed out Garrison giving the safecracker 'the look'. He was referring to their first mission where they parachuted behind their lines and were met by a patrol intent on killing them, but Casino's mind went farther back to his first heist. It was supposed to be an easy one. That was the only reason they took the novice with them. There was supposed to be just one guard who had a habit of sleeping on the job. Instead he must have called in sick or got fired because the new guy was there, alert and quick on the trigger. They dove for cover and returned fire. When he was younger and helping the family running booze he had fired a scatter gun in the Fed's direction but face on, one on one was different. He had never killed anyone; his weapon remained silent. When the shooting stopped one of the gang had been hit by a ricochet that grazed his leg. He would be alright. The guard was dead. The novice safe cracker had not pissed his pants but he had acted no braver than the artist had. He had no right to criticize.
The Boss had commented on his still loaded gun and the others had laughed but he knew he had failed in their eyes. Instead of kicking him out they had hung a nickname on him; 'No shot'. It took a long time to live that down.
Their next destination was Voves a distance of over a hundred miles. They still had the car but fuel was going to be a problem. Their fears were confirmed when just before dawn the engine chugged and died. They had taken turns driving and sleeping but even so they were not eager to set out on foot. They prepared a quick breakfast and were just finishing up when a small cluster of refugees came into sight. Hide in plain sight.
"So, what's in Voves again," asked Goniff quietly. Garrison had dropped back to see how Hodgkins was doing. He had slept most of the way in the car but the bump on his head was cause for concern. Actor said there was no sign of a concussion but still he worried.
"There is a prison camp there. I want pictures of the conditions," answered the photographer.
"A prison camp, like that one we got …," with an apologetic smile to the other man he continued. "You know who from?"
"It's not for POW's. It's for undesirables like Jews and Gypsies." Garrison had wondered the same thing when he was told about the camp.
"Ah, Warden." Goniff sounded worried. "Do you think we should be travelling with this bunch? We might be taken for Gypsies and end up on the wrong side of the wire."
"I think we'll be all right for a while. There's lots of displaced people trying to escape the war."
"Aren't Gypsies darker too? What about Chiefy? Won't they think 'e's one?"
"He's not that dark."
"If you say so," clearly not satisfied but willing to let it drop for now.
The men took on some of the travellers' packs in exchange for periodic rides on the laden wagons and carts. Fortunately there were no check points but when the band turned south they said their good byes.
At dusk they bedded down in a cow barn. The presence of the animals provided some warmth and the hay was relatively fresh. No one commented on the smell. When Chief went out to start a fire to warm their rations Hodgkins followed and attempted to engage him in conversation.
"You've obviously done this, starting a fire, before" There was no response so he asked, "Were you a Boy Scout? I remember I had to start a fire to get my campfire badge." A shake of his head was all he got. His eyes never left what he was doing.
Undeterred he tried again. "I notice you don't talk much to the others. Do you get along with them okay?" Again there was no answer as he leaned down close to the ground and blew on the small flame. The coals glowed then burst into flame as he sat up.
"'Ey Chiefy, you want us to get more wood?" Without waiting for an answer he said, "Percy, give us an 'and will you?" He waited just long enough to see the man stand before he added, "Don't mind 'im, 'e doesn't talk much."
"Thanks for telling me. I thought I might have offended him somehow or other. Doesn't he talk to anyone?
"'E talks when 'e 'as something to say but that's all right with us." They had arrived at a corps of trees but there was not a lot of deadfall so they kept moving. "One good thing about 'im," said Goniff with a smile, "You know for sure that if you tell 'im a secret that 'e won't tell anyone."
Percy smiled in return. "Good to know," he said as he pulled a large branch from under the fallen leaves. "I know some people don't trust people who don't talk much. I prefer to be able to talk to people, not that I don't trust him. I just would like to get to know him."
When they returned to the cow barn Chief was gone but Casino was tending the ration cans that he had placed around the small fire. A hot meal was going to be appreciated by all.
The next morning Garrison woke them to a quick meal of cold rations and they were off again. This time they were fortunate enough to be overtaken by a farmer and his horse drawn wagon. He was returning to his farm near their destination and was glad of the company. He even offered to let them stay in his old barn. Without his three sons to help keep the place going he had sold off his stock rather than fix the barn. He wasn't sure how he was going to survive if the war went on too long. Rather than end on a sad note he said, "Dieu pourvoira." God will provide.
They took him up on his offer. The barn was old and they could see where the roof leaked in a few spots but it was out of the weather.
"You heard," said Garrison. He had seen Chief sitting on the fence rail and knew something was bothering him. All he could think of was Goniff's remark about gypsies.
"Yeah."
"You don't have to go."
"You go, I go."
"Unless I say otherwise," he said with a smile. "Remember, there's a reward on your head."
"That supposed to make me feel better?" he asked sadly turning to look at his leader.
"It means you are very desirable," was the reply, "especially to us." It was hard to tell but he thought his Guardian was less worried. They sat silently for a time. It was peaceful here. Too bad it wouldn't last.
There was no hay in the barn but there were a few old horse blankets folded up in the corner. No one asked what had happened to the rest of the horses. The wagon was heavy enough to be pulled by a team but there was only one horse now.
Goniff took a pair of the blankets and some rope and tried to make a hammock but when he tried to climb in he found the smell was over powering. Sweaty horse was not to his liking. He took it down and walked away muttering about how the animals could stand the smell. Chief waited until he was gone before taking the blankets for himself. He had slept on worse.
Just before dawn Hodgkins packed up his equipment and he and Garrison headed for the camp.
"Why'd they go today, it's raining?" Goniff was sore from sleeping on the hard floor and he was now bored.
"Look outside. What do you see? It is dreary … depressing, sad and lonely."
"Yeah," he agreed. "So why would they want to be out in that." He looked around the barn. "Not that it's any better in 'ere. At least it's dry." A large drip plopped into the puddle three feet from his foot.
"Lighting has a great effect on the mood of a situation. Depressing scenes are enhanced by gloomy lighting. The full impact of pain and misery are muted by bright light like sunlight which we associate with happiness," explained Actor the art connoisseur.
Goniff thought that over before saying, "So this is the perfect weather for this."
"Yes." The room fell silent as each man tried to find something to pass the time. The others were not expected back until much later.
Chief came down from the loft and Actor took over. Not content to sit idly he moved over to the sliding barn door, opened it enough to see out and stood watching. After a few minutes he turned and said, "Hey Casino. "You ever heard of this guy?"
"What a you mean? How would I've heard of 'im?"
"Just wonderin'." He was about to turn back to the door when Casino continued.
"You mean as an artist? No. Actor might of. He probably went to art galleries and openings, all that pretentious shit. Wouldn't be caught dead in one of those places." He chuckled. "Goniff might. See what he might pick up." Chief gave him an answering chuckle.
"You look in his sketch book? He's got more than one there," suggested the safecracker. If you're worried maybe you should. See if he's any good."
There was a long silence as Casino turned his thoughts to Chief's suspicions. "You think he might be lying about who he is, about being an artist?" He knew Chief did not trust many people but then he had good reason.
"I don't know." The soft words hung in the silence and gloom.
"You're thinking he might be from …"
"He's awful friendly. I thought artists were…"
"Temperamental? Casino went on to explain. "Not all. My Grandmother used to paint. She was good too and she wasn't temperamental unless you talked back to her. Then…"
"She slapped you around," suggested Chief with a grin.
"You got it babe."
Chief took another look outside before sliding the door shut and heading for the pile of equipment. He was going to take Casino's advice and check the man's work, if there was any.
Casino thought about their guest. He was game; he had to give him that. He hadn't balked at anything even sleeping in these primitive conditions. And cheerful too, too damned cheerful. After a while that got on his nerves, and Goniff's too. He saw the look he gave him this morning. The Limey was usually cheerful too but he had his limits.
After his initial reaction to being that close to the bombing, he had toughened up. Even the near miss with the German patrol in Lisieux had not upset him. His only comment after they escaped was that he wished he had his camera set up. The expressions on the soldiers' faces would have made incredible portraits. The looks of anger, fear, resignation…
It was much later that the two men returned, cold, wet and tired. Chief headed for the door but Garrison stopped him. "We'll eat them cold," referring to their rations but the Indian had that covered. Casino opened the window on the far wall and Chief opened the door. Pulling the makings of a fire together he lit a small fire and warmed the cans. He knew what it was like to eat cold food when you were cold.
"Did you get what you wanted?" asked Actor.
"Yes. I got some good shots. I just wish I had a darkroom so I could develop them, see what I got." Turning to his dinner companion he asked how far to their next stop.
"Pithiviers. It's about 33 miles east south east."
"Thirty three miles. Any chance of finding another vehicle? Not that I'm complaining," he added with a smile. "What you have been getting for me has been good."
"I don't think there's many places along the way where we might find one. We'll have to see what we can get." They sat in silence and ate their rations.
The rain had stopped and the sky cleared at the horizon allowing the last of the sunshine to light up the yard. They all went outside to enjoy the last of the good weather. Casino was sitting cleaning his weapon when Hodgkins wandered over and sat down on a section of tree trunk that sat nearby. The number of slices in the top told Casino that it had been used for either chopping wood or beheading chickens. He said nothing.
"Do you have to use that a lot?"
"No, but I like to be prepared." He continued cleaning.
"You guys work well together. You all start at the same time?"
Casino knew what he was getting at and that was not something he wanted to talk about or even think about so he just nodded. Wheeler had died on their first mission.
"Any of you know each other before?"
"Nope." He slipped the colt into the shoulder holster then pulled it out making sure nothing impeded the motion.
"What'd you do before the war?" Percival knew but wanted to see how he would respond. Maybe he could get him to talk about himself and the others.
Casino was not ashamed of his record. He was the best there was at something that just happened to be illegal. "Three of ten for Armed Robbery."
"Armed … You were convicted of Armed Robbery. I see." If Casino was going for shock, he failed. The guy took it in stride.
"I assume the others, … the Lieutenant knows about that?"
"That's right, babe. Except for the Lieutenant, we're all convicts." Casino waited for a response but didn't get what he expected.
"Convicts working behind enemy lines. Quite the concept." Looking around he asked, "All Armed Robbery?"
"Nope. Theft, possession of Stolen Goods and Murder."
"Murder?" and he searched the yard. "Who?"
Casino's protective streak took over. "Does it matter?"
"Do you trust him? You know to …"
"Not kill us? He had his reasons. He's like anyone else. Just don't push him too far but yeah I trust him."
"Well then it doesn't matter. If you trust him then I'll trust him too."
The next morning they set off again. The good weather held; something they were grateful for when by late afternoon there was no sign of a place to stay other than a small woodlot.
"'Ey Chiefy? Any chance of getting something fresh for supper?"
"Tired of the canned stuff?" asked Casino as he tossed him a can of something. He caught it and tossed it back.
"So what a ya think?" he asked anxiously eyeing the Indian.
Chief held out his hand and Goniff handed over his weapon.
At Percival's questioning look Goniff explained. "'E uses me gun,"
"Weapon," interjected Casino.
"And he gets us supper," he finished with a smile.
"Oh?" Percy turned to watch the retreating back. "And why your gun?" he turned back. "Doesn't he have one?"
"'E does but when 'e uses mine 'e gets to watch me clean it."
"He doesn't like cleaning his own gun?"
"He'd rather clean his knife and besides Goniff doesn't clean his gun as well as he should," put in Casino. "This way he has to."
"I see. So who cleans and cooks?"
"'E does."
"Handy fellow to have around when you're hungry."
"Other times too."
By the time he returned Goniff had a fire going. "So what'd … You didn't get nothing? No rabbit, not even a snake or a lizard?"
"Saw a dog," offered the Indian.
"You didn't …" started Goniff, his face curled up in disgust.
"Casino, go relieve Actor." It wasn't time for a shift change but Garrison obviously wanted to talk to him.
Supper was warmed rations again. After they had cleaned up Percy sat on a fallen tree and began sketching from memory. There was so much he has seen on this trip that he wanted to put down on paper while he could.
After a few minutes Actor came over and sat on the same log beside the artist and lit a cigarette. "Have you ever had a show in the San Francisco area?" he asked as he shook out the match and then buried it
"No. Most of my work is in galleries in New York City. I have a few pieces in Washington. I did have a show in Detroit last year.
"Is that where you were living before the war?" he asked pausing briefly to look at his companion. "I can tell from your accent that you were not born there," he added with a smile.
"For a time, yes."
Going back to his sketch he said, "Maybe after the war you could come to one of my openings. All this material I'm gathering will make quite a show. I also have a deal with a publisher for a book of photographs and sketches. I could send you a signed copy."
With a surreptitious glance at the pad he said, "I would like that very much. Thank you."
"Maybe you could get the others to come as well." Then he turned to watch his reaction as he asked, "Do you think you will stay in touch?"
"I try not to think that far ahead. The business we are in …"
"Right," and he looked around. Garrison was talking to Chief and Goniff was watching them. Though the woodlot was small he could not make out what was being said. "Would you want too, stay in touch?" he asked. "I see you are different from them. You've got class, yet you seem to get along with them."
"It is true that we move in different circles but I have come to know and respect them and their abilities. It is our diversity that gives us the flexibility we require to get the job done."
Putting down his charcoal he looked to where the Englishman was sitting near Chief. Garrison had moved off. "I can see it wouldn't be too hard to get to know Goniff, he is so open and likeable but Casino's a little harder and Chief… He's so quiet it's hard to tell what he's thinking or even get him to talk."
"It is true that he is quiet, that is his nature but once he gets comfortable with you he does open up. He is a remarkable young man."
The following afternoon saw them close to their destination so they set up camp. The sun was still shining so Percy took out his sketch pad and sat. Goniff, lonely for conversation, came over, approaching from behind so he could see what was on the pad.
"That's pretty good," he said. "You always been able to draw like that?"
"I used to love to draw when I was a child. My Mother was an artist and she encouraged me, even paid for lessons after school."
"You do portraits too?"
"Yes. Would you like me to do a quick sketch of you?"
"If you wouldn't mind. Me Mum would love to 'ave one."
Percy flipped the page and told the Englishman to sit on the end of the log. Turning to face him Percy began to sketch. "It's really great the way you get along with everyone," he said without lifting his eyes.
"That's just the way I am."
"Even with Actor. The two of you seem worlds apart."
"Oh he's not so bad."
"I see you and Casino get along, how about Chief? He's so quiet, keeps to himself. He must be hard to get to know."
Chiefy? You just gotta let 'im come to you. 'E doesn't talk much but if you're in trouble 'e's right there." After a pause he asked, "You gonna draw them too?"
Once Percy stopped looking Goniff came around to see the result. "'Ey, that pretty good. You caught me boyish good looks." He studied the drawing some more before asking, "Can you keep it for me. I want to send it to me Mum. And could you sign it too?" As he started to move off he turned and asked, "Do you want me to send the others out so you ca draw them too?"
"Maybe later. I want to finish what I was doing."
"Oh, right. Thanks."
Farther away Casino was watching. "Limey's over pestering Percy again. Hey, did you get a chance to look at his sketches?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
There's lots of stuff we seen but there's two unfinished that look like me. Why would he be drawin' me," he asked suspiciously.
"You talk to the Warden?"
"Not yet. Gonna." He headed over to where he had seen their leader.
Minutes later he found him. "This guy's supposed to be an artist, has shows in New York city and stuff. You ever heard of 'im?" he asked as he came to stand at Garrison's shoulder.
"No, but then I don't get to New York that often." Something about his tone told him he was worried. No, it wasn't worry. He had something on his mind. He turned to watch his face as he spoke, "What makes you ask?"
"I don't know, just … I don' know." His concern and doubt was clear on his face.
"He say or do anything to make you suspicious?"
"No."
"Just a feeling?"
"Yeah. I looked at his sketch book and there was two drawin's of me, pretty sure they're me. They ain't done but … Why would he be drawin' me?" He almost sounded scared.
"Did you ask him?"
"No." His answer was too fast and too vehement. That was never going to happen.
"Want me to ask?"
Again the abrupt, "No."
"I'll let the others know to keep an eye on him."
"Thanks."
Personally Garrison did not get a bad feeling from the man. He was warm and friendly, easy going but this was the second time Chief had expressed his suspicions. He was naturally suspicious and for good reason but was he justified this time? They were all protective of the young man so he knew they would all keep an eye on their guest.
Early morning, after cold rations the two men set off for the Pithiviers' camp. Along the way Hodgkins started talking.
"All this travelling has given me a chance to talk to your men. They are a diverse group. Which one is your favorite?"
The Officer thought as he walked then shook his head. "I don't have one. As you say they're very different and they each have their strong suits and weaknesses." He thought about Actor. If he had to go face-to-face with the enemy he wanted the tall Italian by his side. He rarely had to explain the plan; it was as if they though alike. The conman could see the flaws and make suggestions as they worked out the details. He was also good at improvising on the fly. They worked well together.
Casino was abrupt and readily expressed himself but once the plan was set into motion he did as he had to, whether it was dress as a woman of wear a nun's habit. He might complain but he did it. He was also not afraid of a fight whether it was fists or bullets.
Goniff was like the conman, he looked so innocent. Because of this he could easily vanish in a crowd. He was so accomplished at lifting things that his marks rarely knew until later. He had been instrumental many times in their successes.
That left Chief. It was possible to complete their missions without a Guardian, all the other teams he knew of did it but having someone with his abilities was a definite bonus for them.
No, his men were individuals with special talents that combined made a great team. All he had to do was to keep them from killing each other and stealing from their own. He did not have a favorite. Having a favorite was not a smart thing to do. A good leader treated them all the same to prevent dissention.
"Do you think you'll stay in touch after the war?"
"That's not something you think about. Anyone of us could be killed tomorrow."
"Just to make conversation, let's say the war ended right now. Who would you stay in touch with?"
The road they were on was not well travelled but in the distance he heard a heavy truck. Knowing that men and supplies would have to be brought into the camp he urged Hodgkins off the road and into the bushes. While they waited he thought over Percy's question. Actor moved in different circles than he did. Actor was also a conman. Could he go straight? Casino also moved … they all did, even Chief. Goniff and Casino seemed to enjoy their down time together, although that often involved the police in the end. Actor seemed to enjoy showing Chief the better things in life. Maybe they would stay in touch for a time. He would like to stay in touch with each of them so he could help them go straight.
After the troop carrier passed they walked for a few minutes before a farm wagon drew up. They rode the rest of the way.
Meanwhile the four cons were glad of a break but they were bored. They were also hungry so they headed into town. Goniff liberated a wallet which unfortunately did not contain any money. Next they tried a grocery store. Actor diverted the shop keeper as Goniff and Casino stocked up. Outside, they divied up the take. Actor complained at the lack of meat. Casino said there was none but why hadn't Chief picked a fresher loaf of bread. On it went until Goniff noticed a woman watching them. They quickly left. They had almost blown their cover squabbling over food. By the time they got back to their base the evidence was gone.
When the two men returned by late afternoon the cons could see the disappointment on Garrison's face. Hodgkins was trying to make the best of it but they could see it on his face too.
"What happened?" asked Actor.
"We couldn't get close enough."
"Did you get anything?"
"Yes. I got some shots of the layout and did some sketches." They heard the but… and knew something was going to happen. They looked to Garrison expecting him to suggest a con but he surprised them.
"There's another camp in Beaune la Rolande."
"How far's that?" asked Casino. He was getting tired of all the travelling.
"It's only ten or twelve miles."
"When do we leave?"
Get something to eat," he checked his watch, "We leave in half an hour."
"Is this the same type of camp?" asked the photographer.
"Supposed to be a POW camp. That's all I know."
"Will we be able to get closer?"
"Actor?" When the conman joined them Garrison laid out the plan. They would get uniforms and they would con their way into the camp. Hodgkins would remain mute as a Serbian photographer.
"What if someone there speaks Serbian?" asked the future Serbian.
"You leave that to me," said the conman.
By hitching rides they were able to reach their destination before dark. Chief found them a deserted farmhouse that still contained most of its furniture. While Chief went hunting, Casino, Goniff and Actor went into town to get uniforms and a vehicle. They felt that with a Prison so close they should be able to get what they needed. By the time they returned Chief had started a fire in the living room fireplace and in the kitchen stove. Two rabbits were soon simmering in a pot. As Chief handled the cooking the others sorted out their haul and their sleeping arrangements. There were only two bedrooms but there was a double bed and trundle and a child's bed. Chief had claimed the sofa in the living room. It was the only place where the occupant did not have to share.
Garrison's turn was coming up to take the watch so he rolled out of bed, gathered up his jacket and flashlight and checked his weapon. Chief had checked and found the attic, thought small and cramped, offered a view of the front and rear. Percival must have felt Garrison get up. He got out of bed and put his jacket on too before following the Officer out into the living room. The coals in the fireplace had been banked leaving the room in almost total darkness other than a splash of moonlight coming through the window. A dark shape emerged from the stairs and moved into the room. Craig turned, met the eyes of the man who stepped out of the shadows and saw what he needed to see. All was quiet.
"You eat?" he asked barely breaking the silence.
"Yeah," was the equally quiet reply, more an exhalation than a word.
Another moment passed before Garrison said, "Go to bed Chief." There was no sound as the man drifted toward the bedrooms but he stopped as Garrison spoke again. "And Chief, get under the covers."
Chief turned his head back but in the dark his face remained hidden. He turned back and disappeared down the short hall. There was no sound of a door closing or a bed creaking. All was silent until the two men began the climb to the attic.
Garrison made his way to the window at the front and sat on the crate Chief must have used. He had positioned it on the shadow side out of the moonlight. Wishing they had something larger than hand guns he looked out the window.
A voice in the darkness. "You sound like a father telling his little boy to go to bed as if you expect when you go in later you will find him reading comic books by flashlight under the covers." He was clearly smiling as he spoke.
"There's nothing little boy about that man," but he knew as he said it that that was a lie.
"Yes I know what they are. Casino told me, and it doesn't matter to me. They've done everything to help."
"There's more to these men than prison records," Garrison said harshly. "That's in their pasts. Right now they happen to be good at they do."
"I didn't mean to slight them or you. It just struck me funny."
No one spoke as Garrison considered his Guardian. There were ways he was like the son he would like to have. He was loyal, dedicated and there were times if he was being honest, that he thought the man looked up to him. He also looked up to Actor. Maybe that was why the bond had formed between the Guardian and each man. Was that part of it? Would there ever be anything between Chief and the other two?
The night passed, the moon set and dawn arrived. After eating, Garrison and Actor went over the plan with Percival. Then as the two dressed in their uniforms, Percival gathered his gear. They drove off as Casino, Chief and Goniff watched. Going into the lion's den was nerve wracking but staying behind not knowing how it was going was almost as hard.