Actor opened the door and quietly moved across the room to sit next to the bed. Garrison's eyes opened and, after glancing around their one room safe house, a tawny brow lifted in the question he didn't have the energy to ask.
"Casino is keeping watch outside. Chief and Goniff are off gathering supplies." Actor informed their commander.
They'd split up on this job, the four cons acting as a decoy. The Warden, alone and on foot, had managed to cover dozens of miles of rough country to transfer critical information to a contact, and then make his way, dodging enemy patrols, to this meeting place. With the pre-mission planning and training he put them through the Lieutenant had, as was common for him, started the assignment already drained. Garrison wasn't injured…this time, but he'd totally exhausted himself. When Actor suggested he rest while they waited to start the next phase of their trip back to England he capitulated with no argument.
"Here," Actor offered a pewter tankard. "Drink this."
Garrison raised up on an elbow and looked into the mug as he took it from his second's hand. "Where'd you get it?"
"From a cow."
The Warden drank down the still warm, creamy, milk. "You can milk a cow?"
The corner of the Italian's mouth lifted. "Of course."
"Of course you can." Garrison handed the tankard back to the con man before he stretched out again and slipped off to sleep.