Chapter 2
Garrison, still not totally comfortable with the Guardian and his abilities and perhaps fueled by his dislike of sitting waiting in a dangerous situation, was on edge. His gut feeling, which he had come to rely on, was telling him there was trouble. The obvious source was the man Casino had heard the Guardian talking to. He had to find out. From the window he watched him walk off toward the manure pile. He stopped for a minute then continued toward the river. It was not unusual for him to move off by himself; he always stood apart. Garrison waited.
Fifteen minutes later the wanderer returned. Garrison waited until the Guardian was inside, he did not want him to have an escape. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.
"What's going on?" His voice was calm but authoritative with just a hint of a threat.
"Nothin'." The answer was guarded.
"So, who is he?" the threat was clearer. "Obviously, a friend of yours. Did you have a nice chat?" he asked sarcastically. He was watching the Guardian closely and saw the guilt and the fear. There was something there in spite of his answer.
"No."
"What, you didn't have a nice chat? Sure sounded like it." He waited; watching him like a hawk watches a mouse. "We'll start back at the beginning. Who is he? What's his name?"
Garrison watched closely, his anger rising. One of the first things a cadet learns is that you answer when spoken to. The Guardian was silent and looking at the floor, another thing that irritated him. "Now!" he ordered.
"I don' know." Normally a slow talker, fear rushed his words together. "He was hungry," he added as an afterthought.
"Sure sounded like you knew him, like he knew he could trust you. Why is that?"
"I don't know. Maybe he thought I was alone too."
"So, what do you plan to do now?"
"Nothin'. Stay here."
At least he did not sound resigned. In fact, was it a plea? Maybe he did want to stay. Could he trust the man, wondered Garrison. "Why didn't you invite him in, get him something to eat here rather than sneak food out?" He had initially meant to be sarcastic but if he did want to stay… He could not help the anger, though, as he tried to watch the emotions on the Guardians face. It was hard with the man looking at the floor.
"I couldn't."
"Look me in the eye." He waited as the Guardians eyes slowly traveled up. They probably got as far as his chin. Close enough for now. "Why not, you said he was hungry?"
"Cause then he'd know too much. He could be workin' for the Krauts."
Garrison stood glaring at him. That was a possibility, remote but … it was proof that the Guardian was thinking ahead. Maybe they were not as stupid as they were made out to be. He continued to glare. This was a tactic that did not work on Actor. He was so confident in himself, the sign of a good con man that he would just stand there staring back, usually with a smile that said he knew what Garrison was doing. Casino and Goniff usually betrayed themselves. Chief's eyes dropped then his head tilted down. He was resigned but that was all.
Now what, wondered the Lieutenant, the officer in charge of keeping them all safe? Could he trust the Guardian? Dare he trust him? Or the other man? Who was he? Chief had not answered that question. Maybe he did not know who he was.
Maybe best if he had a look around. Casino had been quite specific when he had reported the incident. After calling Casino in and telling them to stay he went out to look. He made a complete circuit but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe the other had moved on or was better at hiding than he was at looking. There was nothing more he could do so he returned the stable. As he entered, he heard Casino talking.
"Do I have at spell it out for you?" demanded Casino angrily.
"What?"
"He thinks yer gonna rabbit, yer gonna take off with that low life deserter."
Garrison watched the quick look he was given. The Guardian was looking for confirmation and apparently he got it. His face fell.
"No, why would I?" The Indian's voice was firm.
"The two of you, free to go where ever you want. Funny, how he approached you. Never when I was out there or the others, just you."
Garrison said nothing but this was what he had been wondering. He watched closely to see what sort of reaction that comment might stir up.
"I don't know. Maybe cause, …" He was looking for a reason. " cause he's Indian." he finished with a one shoulder shrug. It did sound weak to Garrison but then he did not know a lot about Indians. It might be true or it was possible the man was hiding something.
"Ah, two little Indians lost in the woods. Go on then, take off with yer brother. We don't need you."
"No."
"Why not? Yer two of a kind."
"No we ain't." There had been just a flicker of a pause before his response.
"Oh?"
"He's Commanche." No one moved or spoke, just continued to stare at him. Apparently no one else got the significance. The speaker looked down and said quietly, "I'm Apache."
Still no one spoke until Actor said, "I take it the two tribes do not get along."
Chief snorted. And that seemed to end it. Garrison gave him a hard look then turned back to the problem at hand. Casino huffed and turned away. The Guardian was still keyed up. He stepped closer to the window and pulling the curtain aside he looked out.
With that settled, for now, Garrison decided the safest bet was to move. They still had a little less than twenty hours to wait before they could move into position for the extraction. He stepped over to where Actor was sitting and motioned him outside. "Have a look around. See if there's anywhere else we can hole up." To Garrison's relief the con man nodded and moved off.
Next he called to Goniff and sent him out to watch to the west, the opposite direction to where he had sent Casino to the east. This taking action helped relieve some of his anxiety. He would have to watch the Guardian, he thought as his eyes looked around.
Garrison was interrupted by Actor's arrival. "Warden, there are three men coming down the road this way." At his leaders inquiring look he added, "from the south. Casino is watching them."
"Let's go. Out. Get Goniff." He shepherded them out and they looped north around the building and headed east toward the wall where the Guardian had left the other. Being in the rear, Garrison watched not only where they were going but the Guardian's reaction. He was looking toward the wall where they were going, nowhere else. Did he know the other, whoever he was, was gone? Or were they heading directly for him? There was no time to direct them left or right.
Casino had seen them exit and had raced to join them. He reached the wall first and crouched down, the others joined him. Within minutes Actor and Goniff arrived. After telling them to stay there, Garrison moved back to see what was happening. There was a possibility these men were from the Resistance but they could not take the chance.
"Shit! Actor?" Casino had moved down the wall, trying to get a better vantage point to watch for trouble. Instead he had found something else. Carefully the con man moved up to where he was being called from. He knelt down beside the wall. A minute later when he returned he did not look well. Grim faced he watched for the officers return.
Fifteen minutes later Garrison returned. They knew from his posture that all was well. They were correct. Garrison explained that the men were from the Resistance and they were there to deliver a message. The pickup was scheduled for oh one hundred hours. Someone would arrive at twenty three thirty to escort them to the coast.
"Warden, there is a dead body about one hundred feet up the wall, that way." He paused to collect himself. "He appears to have been beaten to death."
Garrison could not help the cold chill that ran up his spine or the glance at the Guardian. His face showed nothing but his eyes were averted. He knew something about it. Had he killed him when he was here? Is that what he was doing? He followed Actor to the scene.
The body was that of a young man apparently wearing an extra coat. He was curled up with his back against the wall, his arms curled protectively around his stomach. There was blood by his mouth. It looked like he had vomited blood before he died. Actor peeled back the scarf that he had wrapped around his head to get a better look. That was when he saw the green collar. He was a Guardian. The two men exchanged looks and Actor added what they could not have missed. "He has been beaten." Actor replaced the scarf and they returned to the rest of the team.
Together they all moved back to the stable to wait and Casino returned to his position on watch. Assuming they did not need the extra watch, Goniff had followed his leader and was now checking their meager cache of food. Actor, mindful of smoking in a barn full of hay, stepped outside for a cigarette. Garrison was about to join him when he noticed the Guardian kneeling near the door, hands on his thighs, head bowed; the Guardian position of submission. Why was he reverting back to that? Garrison thought he hated that position. Was it guilt, or fear? That last thought struck fear into his own heart and he spoke without thought.
"Guardian ,come." As soon as it was out of his mouth he regretted it. He sounded just like that first trainer, Iamello, someone he hated and despised. Damn, he thought but it was too late to take it back. Besides the Guardian had come immediately and was now about to kneel at his side.
"Get up," he growled and was obeyed. "Look me in the eye." Slowly the eyes met his. Fear. He was not sure but something told him the Guardian had something on his mind. "Say it," he said bluntly. "Don't ask permission."
"What are you going to do about the ... the body?"
He should arrange a burial, at least, but the Guardian's interest meant something. Was it because they were both Indian? Even though from warring tribes were they culturally bound to see to a burial? Or was it personal?
The Guardian wanted something and so did he. It was a rotten way to do things but in times of war sometimes it was the only way.
"You knew he was a Guardian." Though he said it as a statement he received a nod in response. "What do you know about the way he died?"
The look of heartbreaking pain was obvious. "He was beaten."
"By whom?"
"His Handler."
"He tell you that?"
He shook his head, a silent no. "Didn't have to." At Garrison's inquiring look he added, "It happens, a lot." He shrugged. "You don't move fast enough, don't do exactly what they want," there was a slight catch in his voice as he looked away. "You get beat. Sometime you get hit just for the hell of it."
"You were beaten." Again the Guardian nodded as his eyes dropped to the floor.
Garrison remembered Iamello had not had a problem hitting the Guardian when he had first arrived. His words rose unbidden, "He's used to pain. That's how you get their attention." Maybe what the Guardian had said was true. The bruises did look a lot more than a few hours old.
"So you didn't kill'm?"
"What?" The dark eye locked on his, shock written plainly on his face. "No. He was dyin' when he talked to me. He knew it, an' I knew it. He just didn't want to …" He looked down, overcome by the pain. "Die alone in a strange land, with no one ta …"
The Officer knew they had to bury the body, they had time. "You said he was Commanche." The Guardian's watering eye met his. "Do you know the tradition? Is there a special …"
The Indian blinked away the tears and shook his head.
Actor had returned and stood watching. After a quick search, Actor brought out a shovel that had been leaning in the corner. They headed back to the wall in the fading light.
After the last shovelful was thrown, Actor spoke a few words he remembered the priest saying at the funerals he had attended. As the others stood in silence, Chief wandered along the wall picking up loose rocks. When Actor finished he returned and knelt by the head of the grave. Carefully he placed the rocks in a circle and began to speak words they did not understand. When he finished he stood and with head bowed said, "You're free now." He raised his hand and flung some dust into the air. "Ride with the wind." He lowered his head for a moment of silence.
The darkness deepened and he stepped back. The others took this as a signal and headed back to the stable. The Guardian remained.
When their escort finally arrived Garrison headed out to the grave and was met by the returning Guardian. He waited and then fell into step. They returned in silence.
Though there was some bantering on the trip to England, they were subdued, as each considered what had happened. Though the dead man had not been part of their team, the connection with the Guardian made it seem closer. Death. It was going to happen, if not to them, then one of the others on the team. How would they handle it? How would they want the others to react? How should they help the Guardian? He was obviously in pain. Should they help him?