Recovery

Chapter 3 Revised

Breakfast had been an unpleasant surprise. The scrambled eggs were overcooked. The coffee was ersatz. And there was no toast. The men had been warned ahead of time there was going to be a problem and it really wasn't the Sgt./Major's fault this time.

Though Casino had to grumble anyway, they all ate what little was in front of them. Once breakfast, which only slightly broke their fast, was finished, the men straggled into Garrison's office for a quick debrief before he had to go meet Maj. Schaeffer.

The men had taken their usual seats at the conference table and Garrison was gathering the papers from the safe, sans the money Casino had lifted, when Terry walked out of the kitchen, shopping list in hand.

"Okay, Gentlemen," said the girl loudly to get their attention. "I have to make a London run for groceries. I don't know how. I don't want to know how." She looked pointedly at Actor with an overdone smile. "But I know each and every one of you has a ration book and points." The smile disappeared. "If you want to eat, cough up the points. I'm don't have enough ready cash to cover all this."

"Would you like me to accompany you?" offered Actor. The cause justified the use of his money, yet again.

Terry silently held a forefinger up. "Sgt./Major!" she called out loudly.

Collins came out of the kitchen. "Yes, Miss?"

Terry beckoned him around in front of her and looked appraisingly at him. "Do you have a set of civilian clothes?"

"Not here, Miss." Collins looked at her with the same confusion as was on the other men's faces.

Terry frowned for a second. "No problem. Tell me, Sgt./Major, would you like to learn how to shop Black Market?"

"Pardon, Miss?" said Collins in astonishment.

"Aw, come on, Terry," scoffed Casino from his chair at the conference table. "He'd turn you in tuh the Brass."

Facing the girl, she was the only one who could see the Sgt./Major's changing expressions.

"I believe I would, Miss," Collins said boldly.

"He'll still turn yuh in."

"So? I already have a list from Major Richards and Col. Hammond." Terry gave a smug smile.

"You're joking," said Garrison in surprise.

"No," denied Terry. "It always pays to have bargaining chips." Her eyes pinned Actor's "Right?"

"Ah, you are learning well," grinned the con man.

The girl looked around the room. "Points, Gentlemen. Bring me points. And Goniff, bring him a set of civvies."

The men moved quickly to the stairs.

"Thank you, Miss," said Collins.

"Har-ry," said Terry firmly. "For today, I am not 'Miss,' I'm Terry. And you're . . .," she laid on a Goniff-accent thickly, "me older cousin from Liverpool wot got wounded in the war."

Collins' thin lips stretched into a smile. "Well if I'm your cousin, then it's "Arry not Harry . . . Terry."

A burst of laughter came out of the girl. "Right you are then, Mate."

Garrison took his seat at the head of the table. He gave his sister a puzzled look. It was amazing the things she found out that he didn't know.

"Ration books and points?" he asked in disbelief.

Terry nodded. "You'll have to ask Actor about that. He's the only one who could have pulled it off. I hear they are using them in place of money at the Dove's. Seems to be popular with the men there, though I don't know how they get around the names on them."

Garrison shook his head. "And how are you going to get around it?" he asked.

"Same address," said his sister. "I got my own a long time ago. I've used them in Brandonshire and London." She grinned. "By the way, how's the liquor supply?"

"A little more couldn't hurt," replied Garrison. He looked at his watch. There was not enough time for the debrief. "I have to go."

"You realize I need the Packard," said Terry. "You can take my car if you promise not to ding it up."

Collins almost choked on that one.

"No thanks," said Craig. "I don't want to be seen pulling up at G-2 with that thing and having to explain it to Schaeffer. I'll take the jeep."

He really did enjoy driving the sports car, and he had driven it to Allied Command that time without problems. Major Percy Schaeffer was a different matter. Garrison walked to the door but paused to look back as his men trooped down the stairs and filed past his sister, slapping ration books in her outstretched palm. Goniff handed a set of clothes to Har-ry, and the skinny man hurried toward the kitchen and his room beyond to change.

"We'll debrief after I get back," Garrison told the men. With a shake of his head, he went outside and trotted down the steps.

GGG

Garrison made the turn up the drive to the Mansion. He was glad the meeting with Schaeffer was over. The information in the papers was the only thing that assuaged the British major's annoyance and insistence that Actor had somehow been the one to foul up the plan. Craig had noticed his sister wasn't mentioned. Terry had friends in high places. How high, even Garrison did not know. They were high enough that the Major was cautious in his handling of the girl.

The black Packard was gone. Craig figured it would be late afternoon before his sister and Collins returned. That was a strange thing too. The animosity between the two seemed to have been worked through. Maybe losing her memory had its advantages.

Garrison trotted up the steps and let himself into the house. The men were not in the common room, but he could hear voices in the kitchen. Well, it was noon. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat tree in his office, tossed the briefcase on the decrepit couch, and hung his hat jauntily off the top of the pole.

The four men looked up at his entrance. Garrison pulled the chair at the near end of the table out and sat down.

"You want lunch, Warden?" asked Goniff cheerfully.

Casino began shoving dishes down to the officer. Chief got up and got another plate and a cup of ersatz coffee, putting them in front of Garrison. Craig looked at the offerings. No bread, but there was sliced cheese, fried Spam, large leaves of lettuce and the usual accoutrements. Goniff had to come up with the Spam. Now what?

"Take a piece of lettuce, spread your favorite accompaniment on it and fold it around a piece of wonderful Spam and cheese," said Actor dramatically. "Who knows, we may be starting a new cuisine," he smiled, obviously not believing it for a second.

Garrison followed the con man's directions and took a bite. It was still Spam and it still needed bread.

"There's no meat?" asked Craig.

"Yeah there is," said Casino. 'It's all frozen. Part of that last pig. Terry took chops out to thaw."

"She's not going to be 'appy," warned Goniff. "We pulled some baby carrots and some green beans from the garden."

Casino leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. "Speakin' of happy, how'd it go with Schaeffer?"

"He wasn't happy," confirmed Garrison. "He blamed us, as usual." The officer neglected to point out the Major had said it was Actor's fault.

Chief was also leaned back in his chair. "Man ain't gonna be happy unless we go on a mission and don't come back."

"Got that right, Mate," agreed Goniff.

Craig swallowed another bite of greasy meat, cheese and lettuce 'sandwich.' "Okay, forgetting the Field Marshal, how was going in?"

"Teresa should not be jumping out of airplanes yet," mentioned Actor. "Or balconies."

Garrison shook his head. "There isn't anything we can do about that any more than we could for you post-concussion."

"Gettin' in and out wasn't bad," said Chief.

"Safe was easy," added Casino. A grin crossed his face, "And profitable."

Actor glared at the cracksman. "Perhaps you should have given some of that profit to Teresa for food."

"Butt out, Actor," shot Casino back. "She wasn't taking any from you, she sure wouldn't take any offa me."

"Knock it off," said Garrison wearily.

GGG

It was just after four o'clock when the Sgt./Major and Terry returned with the Packard full of boxes and cloth bags. Terry came in first, carrying an old flour bag full of food. Casino, Goniff and Chief were in the common room. The men just looked at her.

"You want to eat this stuff, I suggest you help bring it in," said Terry. "There are more bags in the car." She headed back to the kitchen.

"You get booze?" hollered Casino after her.

"Of course!"

The safecracker got up, followed by the other two men. They had to hold the door open for Collins, carrying a box. They watched him walk past them, each thinking how odd it was to see the man in civilian clothes. Frankly, the sweater and pants looked better on Goniff than on the even thinner Sgt./Major.

After the bags and boxes were bought up and the men went back to whatever activities they had been doing, Terry came out and peeked into the office.

"Where's Craig?" she asked.

"Upstairs," replied Chief.

The girl went upstairs to the open door of Garrison's bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, back to the door. It wasn't until she had stepped inside she saw Actor sitting in the chair on the far side.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized. She started to turn.

"Stay," ordered the con man.

"No, I'll come back later. It's nothing important."

Garrison said nothing, watching to see what came next. He thought Actor had been a little abrupt.

The con man stood and his hand shot out, palm down, fingers splayed, pointed at the girl. "Teresa, you stay. I have a book downstairs I find very interesting and wish to finish."

"Actor, you stay," objected the girl.

The Italian shook his head and walked past her out the door.

Terry watched after him with a frustrated expression. "Why does he do that? I don't want to interrupt you two."

"I don't know, Terry," replied her brother. "Maybe he is reading an interesting book."

Terry gave him a funny look. "He's reading one of your military protocol books."

Craig gave a chuckle. "No telling what Actor finds interesting." He motioned her to come around and take the chair the con man had just vacated. "So how did it go with the Sgt./Major?"

Terry grinned. "I think he's been hanging around us too long. He picked it right up. He was a little uncomfortable around Richards and Hammond, being out of uniform and all. I explained things to the officers and they were okay with it. Maybe we just need to broaden Harry's horizons a bit."

Craig laughed. His men and now his sister would take care of that. Terry stood up. "I have to go start pork chops. I just wanted to let you know we were back and everything went okay." She paused. "Actor didn't have to leave."

Garrison stopped her at the foot of the bed. "You still don't remember him?"

The girl's frustration was evident to him. "Yes, and no. I know a lot about him, but I don't remember working with him. And I don't know why."

"Quit pushing it," advised Craig. "It will come."

"I hope so," said the girl as she walked out the door.

Maybe Actor didn't want it to come. Why, Garrison did not know. What he did know was that asking the man point blank would yield nothing.

GGG

The missions continued; most of them without Terry. There were injuries, but nothing major. When they arrived back at the Mansion, the girl helped with the wounds like she had been doing. Except on Actor. She left him to Craig. Oh, she would bring supplies and help in that way, but she would not touch the man.

It had been over a month since Terry had returned from the hospital. There was still an uneasiness between her and Craig's second. Craig rarely got to see the two in action on a mission. Usually he was with Casino and a safe.

Trying to get anything out of Chief was almost as bad as trying to get anything personal out of the confidence man, but Garrison felt he had to try. He called Chief into his office after the last mission Terry was on.

The Indian cautiously took the seat across from the desk.

"I want your opinion," said Garrison.

That was unusual, even for the Warden, thought Chief. He waited silent and wary.

"How are Actor and Terry working together?"

"They're all right, I guess," answered the Indian. This was like rattin' on your cell mate. You just didn't do it.

Garrison recognized that. "It's all right, Chief. Nobody is in trouble." He noted Chief avoided his eyes. Nothing new there, but he had become a little more open with all of them from when he had first arrived at the Mansion. "You watch them. Are they as good as they were before Terry was injured?"

"They do all right," Chief replied, thinking about it.

"Just all right?" probed Garrison.

"I don't know, Warden," admitted the younger man. "There's somethin' missin'."

"Like what?" This was like carefully pulling teeth.

"Don't know," Chief thought about it.

Garrison sat back in his chair. "Anything from this mission they did differently?"

Chief shook his head. "Nuthin' different. It's just that spark is missin'." He searched for the right words. "When they go in as a team, it's like they turn into one person. They don't do that anymore. If that makes sense."

It did. It confirmed what he had been suspicioning for a while now. Now, what to do about it.

GGG

The what to do about it came a week later, after two missions; one without Terry and one unsuccessful. Garrison and Actor were in Garrison's room, having their private after-mission debrief. Garrison touched glasses with Actor and they took their opening sips. This was not going to be good. He half expected the Italian would get up and leave.

"We seem to have a problem?"

"And what is that, Warden?" asked Actor easily.

"Terry's upset."

Actor shrugged it off. "Terry is always upset. What about this time?"

"You."

Sure enough, the con man's face closed, and the walls went up. "I can't see there is a problem. We are working fine together."

"No, you're not," denied Garrison. "That 'spark' between you is gone. She works with you the same as she worked with Carter when you were – not here. Do you two talk when you are not on a mission? Besides when you're teaching her."

"What would we talk about, Lieutenant?" scoffed Actor. "We are not of the same world. What do we have in common?"

"Didn't seem to stop you before. I don't think she trusts you. I don't want to lose her to Randy's group completely. I used to know you would watch out for her. Now I'm not so sure."

That was a slap in the face to the older man and he replied sharply. "I have always watched out for her and I will always watch out for her!"

"Then talk with her. Work with her," said Craig almost like an order.

The Italians mouth tightened. "And what is it I am supposed to say? I can't make her remember. You know that."

"Then start over. Do whatever you did to make her feel safer with you."

"I have no idea what that was, Lieutenant."

"Then figure it out. You're good at that. I don't want to lose either of you, and I want the two of you working together like you used to."

Actor tossed the bourbon down in one gulp and slapped the glass on the desk. "Fine. I will talk to her. About what I don't know."

Now the confidence man got up and strode out of Garrison's room.

GGG

Actor strode into the kitchen. Terry was just drying her hands after washing the plates and bowls. Her head shot up at his sudden entrance. The towel landed on the floor when he took her elbow firmly and propelled her out the door. They hurried down the steps.

"Gazebo," was all he said.

She jerked her arm away from him. "I can get there under my own steam. I don't need you manhandling me."

Realizing that was exactly what he was doing, he slowed. She moved past him and stomped up the steps into the gazebo. He followed.

"I apologize . . ." he began.

"Oh, can it, Actor. What's the problem? You don't treat me like this."

Actor took a seat in the darkened room. "Do you remember that?" he asked quietly.

"I think so. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't know."

"We need to talk."

"Uhn uh," she said in a more normal tone. "You could have just said you wanted to talk. I'd have come with you. What – or who – set you off?"

"Lieutenant Garrison thinks you might not trust me and that I am trying to keep you from remembering me."

He waited for a response. The girl did not sit down but stood out of his reach.

"Should I? And are you?"

Oh, he was handling this all wrong, something he seemed to do frequently with her. "Trust me? Yes, you can and should. The other? Possibly." Maybe he was. He was conning himself. He knew he was backing away from her.

Terry moved over to sit on the bench beside him but not closely.

"Craig should mind his own business."

"We are his business."

They sat in silence for a minute. She spoke first.

"What is it you don't want me to remember? That I slept with you? I don't do that with just anybody and you're not the type to force yourself on someone."

His head jerked in her direction in umbrage. "I don't."

"Then what is it? Is it because I don't remember? Or are you afraid, well afraid's the wrong word with you, that I will be after you again and you don't want that?"

He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know what he wanted and that was a very uncomfortable feeling.

"Let's get something straight, again. I don't sleep with just anybody. If I slept with you it was because we were close enough to do that. I also don't force myself on anybody either, so you're safe there."

"Safe?" snorted the confidence man. "In my profession I cannot afford to get close to anyone. It sets me up for blackmail or losing my objectivity."

"And we got too close."

One tweed covered shoulder hitched in a shrug. He just could not admit how close he had gotten to her.

Terry sighed. "I see your point. Would it be better for you if I moved to London and hooked up with Randy's group?"

"No!" He backpedaled. "That is what the Warden is afraid you will do. Or maybe that I will leave."

"Would you?"

"Probably not. After the war, yes. Now, no."

He knew he did not want to lose her. And he did not want to lose the comradery with the men and the friendship with Garrison. He was backed into a corner; not a place he wanted to be.

"So, what do we do?" asked the girl seriously.

He looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. "I don't know," he said softly. He had never allowed himself to be backed into a corner. Caught a few times yes, but placed in a situation he felt he could not get out of? The closest he had come to that was in the prison camp.

"No demands, Actor," said Terry wearily. "I don't want a friendship like that. And I think we must have been friends at one point."

Actor nodded. "We were, cara."

"So, we shoot for that again. How did we do it before?"

Actor chuckled grimly at that. "We simply fell into it."

"Fell, huh," she smiled. "Maybe just ease into it this time around?"

There it was again. There was that something about the woman that was like no other he had been with before. He had to chuckle again; this time with mirth.

"What was it we did before that is missing now?" asked the girl.

"We kissed a lot," he replied. "It was part of getting you comfortable enough with me to do it in public on a con."

"You any good at it?"

"I beg your pardon?" Dio, that woman could come out with things.

"Show me," she dared him, head up and eyes narrowed.

Well, she did ask for it. He rose to his feet and took her hand, raising her to her feet. He cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her parted lips. Against his dubious better judgement, he lengthened and deepened it. She responded in kind. When he pulled back. She looked up at him.

"Yeah, you're good at it."

"Thank you," he said haughtily, not sure whether to be relieved or insulted.

"Any time. Now can I go finish the dishes. Unless you want to wipe."

"I think not," denied the aristocratic man. "I have . . ."

She interrupted him. "A book on military strategy that is sooo fascinating."

He watched the girl turn and walk out of the gazebo and back to the kitchen. The woman was so frustrating sometimes. Frustrating . . . and knowledgeable, capable, caring, and infuriating. And he missed her, even though she was there, but seemingly incapable of remembering him entirely. If it was a con, it was more of a con than Teresa was capable of, therefore it must be true. Actor lit and smoked a cigarette in the darkness to get himself back in control.

Five minutes later, Actor entered the kitchen. Dried dishes were stacked on the table. Teresa was cleaning the stovetop, a dishtowel over her right shoulder. She ignored him as he squeezed past her back. He smiled to himself that he had managed to skirt her in the tight quarters without touching her.

As he reached the swinging door to the dining room, he heard a snap and felt a sharp sting to his right buttock. Outraged, Actor spun around. The woman was watching him with a cocky smile, swinging the towel from her right hand.

"Marmocchia," he spat at her, turning on his heel and pushing out the door.

He missed the satisfied smile on Terry's face.

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