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Actor claimed to have driven in a road race along the streets of Milan once, and he was proving that story to be true now as they raced along the road through the darkness. The moon was half full and casting just enough light for them to see the road ahead, but they were definitely traveling too fast. Goniff huddled in the back seat with his hands over his eyes. As much as he hated jumping out of planes or traveling on submarines he was praying for the chance to live to see just one more mission.

It was the Warden who spotted him. "There's something up ahead, there." He pointed through the windscreen to the road in front of them, "just taking that turn."

Patrick had seen someone moving up on him in the darkness and increased his speed. Husoe might be right, he might be a good pilot, but he was no match for Actor on this road. Within moments they'd pulled along side. Garrison shouted across to him. "Stop the car Patrick! Pull over!"

"The Hell I will!" The jeep Patrick was driving surged forward but it couldn't beat the car they were in. Actor pulled neatly ahead just as the hedgerows closed on either side of the road, and eased his foot onto the brake, forcing the other man to slow down. As they made the next turn the road opened up again and the Captain tried to come around on their right.

"Run him into the ditch!" Garrison ordered. They were traveling slower now, and the road dropped away to level fields on both sides. Running the man off the road here might still injure him, but if they'd tried it earlier the car might have rolled or crashed into the trees and bushes that made up the hedge they'd just left behind them. Garrison had to admit to himself that he was thinking more of loosing the book and the film it probably contained to another fire than he was of Patricks' safety. He made a grab for the dash and the door as Actor jerked the car to the right forcing the jeep down into the ditch. Their wheels spun in the dirt and the back end fishtailed as the con man fought the heavy vehicle to a stop.

Garrison launched himself from the car, and raced across the road and down the incline to the jeep that was resting with its right hand tires mired in the mud. Grabbing the collar of the Captains' jacket he pulled him out of the seat, and backed up, hauling up onto the road where Actor and Goniff were waiting. "Goniff! Check the car, get everything out of it." Tossing the gun he'd taken from Crossman to his second he stood looking down at the man that lay on the road at his feet and struggled to catch his breath. "The book, where is it?"

Patrick stared up at him from the road. "I don't know what in the hell you're talking about. And even if I did I wouldn't tell you a damn thing, you traitorous Kraut bastard!" He eyes narrowed with hatred. "I knew I'd get you. I knew you were no good way back when I first found out about your family!"

Garrison dropped onto his knees on the road and grabbed Patrick by the front of his jacket. "You don't know anything about a book Virgil?! Alright! Then I'll tell you about it. It's small, fits in the palm of your hand, and slides right into your pocket. Old too. Bound in leather, with those fancy heavy papers on the inside of the covers... It's not the first one you've carried up to London either, it's the third. First one you got after you'd been hurt on one of the missions you flew. That guy at the hospital, Barton, he gave it to you. He told you he could get you into a big game up there if you wanted… and you wanted you greedy bastard. When you got back he told you he could get you in again, any time you wanted. You hit it big up there didn't you Patrick? You wanted to go back alright, so when your weekend pass came up you looked him up again, and he set you right up, and you went up again."

Goniff had come back up onto the road and was looking through the small leather bag he'd found jammed under the front seat. "I got it." Moving up behind Garrison he held the book out.

Actor covered the man when Garrison released him and turned to take the small volume from the little thief. He turned it over in his hands, thumbed through the pages and caught up the slip of paper that fell out on the road. The number to call; he put that away in his breast pocket. Running his fingers lightly over the books' leather binding he searched it, feeling for any sign that something was hidden under the leather. Flipping the cover back he started the same examination of the inside and was rewarded with the discovery of a loose section at the edge of the back cover, and a long, narrow, barely noticeable lump under the marbleized paper. Garrison sat back on his heels in the road and took a deep breath "Barton's a spy Virgil." he said quietly. "He used you to move information off the base in that second book. And he's using you again, to send this out." Patrick had pushed himself up and he was sitting in the road, Garrison handed the book to him, and showed him what he'd found. Reaching up to let Goniff help him to his feet he turned his back on Captain Virgil Patrick. He was a bastard and an idiot, but he wasn't a spy or a traitor. "We need to get this and the film we took up to Reynolds. Actor, you still feel like playing race car driver?"

"Of course." Ignoring Goniffs' moan of protest he gestured towards the officer who still sat in the road staring off into the darkness and asked. "What do we do with him?"

Garrison sighed and turned back to look down at Patrick. "Well, I guess we better move him off to the side of the road so he doesn't get run over." Grabbing the collar of the fliers jacket again he pulled him over to the edge of the road. Bending down he relieved the man of the book he still held in his hands. "You won't mind walking back, will you Virg?" Sliding the book into his pocket he walked to the car and settled into the back and waited for the others to get in.

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It had been a very long day, they didn't get back on base until after dinner and they came through together. Reynolds called and said they were on their way, and Husoe left word at the gate that they'd be coming. He'd also left instructions for Garrison that he could 'collect his men in the Colonels' office.'

The first thing the Warden saw as they stepped through the door to the CO's office was his scout and wheel man resting on the couch in the corner, his left arm supported by a sling. "Chief! What happened to you?" Moving over he eased himself down beside his injured man.

"Aw that coyote Barton ran for it." Chief shrugged his good shoulder and let it drop. "It's nothin'. Casino and I had to run him down, and I tripped and fell wrong. Dislocated it. The doc's put it right again. It's nothin'" He caught the look of alarm that flashed in his commanders eyes. "S'OK Warden. We got him."

Casino was lounging in one of the chairs that sat in front of the Colonels' desk, sipping at some of his Norwegian rot gut. "That guy might not be able to avoid bein' noticed from now on." Raising the glass to his lips he smiled over the rim at them. To their questioning gaze he answered. "It was an accident! I slipped when I got hold of him and sort a scrunched his head into the runway. His nose sort a got smeared across his face a little."

When the man took the next sip from his glass the Warden noticed the bandages that encircled the knuckles of his right hand. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "The runway smeared his nose, did it, Casino?"

"Well, sure. You don't think I'd lie to ya about somethin' like that? Do ya Warden?"

Rattling glasses out of the cabinet and pouring a measure for each of the new comers Husoe turned on Garrison, watching as he took a sip and leaned back into the soft cushions of the couch. "I'm going to do a little nose smearing of my own if someone doesn't tell me the other end of this fairy tale. Patrick came limping in here about lunch time and spilled his guts to me. I've just been waiting around to get the rest of the story." After handing the glasses around to the others he settled himself comfortably into the chair behind his desk. "I got two MP's on that door out there says nobody's going anywhere until I get all of it. So you might as well just start talking."

Goniff made it to the bottom of his glass and at a nod from the Colonel moved over for a refill. Actor, after taking an experimental sip, was trying to decided on a way of inconspicuously dumping the remainder. It reminded him of the fuel Casino had distilled for them in Yugoslavia. It took him a moment to realize that Husoe was still waiting for his explanation. The con man shot a look towards the couch and spotted Garrison, gently snoring there, asleep, so he took up their tale from the time they'd left Patrick sitting at the side of the road. "While they were modifying the test results and getting it on film, the book was steamed open and Bartons' film removed. It wasn't more than an hour before we were ready to move."

"Didn't they know the wrong guy was bringing that book? Weren't they expecting Patrick?" Husoe asked over his drink.

"That was the flaw in Barton's plan." The elegant confidence man smiled at Husoe. "Apparently he never told them anything about the man that he was sending up. When the Lieutenant arrived at the door they let him right in."

"But you couldn't have known that until after you got up there, and he got in and out without getting himself shot." The Colonels' eyebrows climbed into his hair. "You know, I think all you boys in Special Forces must be a little bit crazy."

Garrison roused to the sound of quiet laughter around him. Scrubbing at his face with his hands he sat forward on the couch, shrugged an apology across the room at Husoe, and followed it with a yawn.

"Reynolds gonna leave that place open, Warden?" Chief and Casino had debated the possibility of Intelligence using the game to feed more doctored information to the Germans.

"No. They watched the place and tracked the guy on the door to a man at the docks. They waited to make sure our information got out, then they rounded everybody up and shut it down." Garrison yawned again, ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and gave a quick shake to his head, trying to wake up. "I guess they figured if word got out that we had Barton they might think the stuff was doctored. This way the whole operation disappears. They might not know for weeks that they won't be getting anything more from him."

"What about the guy at the docks? Isn't he what you'd call a loose end?" Husoe again, seeing to the details."

"Bloke had 'imself a fishing boat. You know we get back and forth across the channel like that sometimes," Heading for the cabinet with the bottle again the little man turned to stare at his teammates. 'But I never gave much thought to the Jerries doing the same. Reynolds said they'd let him go over and hand the stuff off, but there'd be a whole line of patrol boats waitin' for him when he tried to get back over here on our side." Goniff tipped another dose of the Colonels' liquor into his glass and shivered has he swallowed it down. "Still gives me the willies to think about it."

"How can you be sure other groups aren't using this same little dodge to get stuff out to the Germans?"

Garrison stretched and winced, rubbing at his side. "We can't. Reynolds has had the place watched since I went up there the first time. They followed them when the game changed location. There were two other guys who brought books to the door. He had them picked up when they came out, and checked them out, found out who'd set them up" Nodding across the office to the Colonel. "As soon as he heard from you, and knew we were moving on Barton, he had the others picked up too. Goniff put the word around to the people he knows in London. The guy running that game didn't know anything about it. He didn't know anything about the guy on the door, or the books…"

"And he was right buggered off when Colonel Reynolds and the Warden explained it all to him too! They all know what kind of con to look for now. That one's not gonna work again. Jerry'll have to find some other way."

"You mean they'r gonna cooperate with the cops?!" Casino had been leaning back in his chair, balancing it on its back legs, and it came down with a loud crack as he sat forward.

"Blimey! D'you think they'r nuts! A 'course not! But the guys that work with Reynolds,,, They don't mind if a bloke makes an honest living running cards, or numbers or such. They won't mind reportin' to them."

Pushing to his feet and reaching back to give Chief a hand up Garrison turned back to Husoe. "Colonel, if you've got all of your questions answered we'd better head out of here."

"I could arrange quarters for all of you on base here. Give you one full night of safe, uninterrupted sleep."

"No offense Colonel, but I think our base is a little more secure." The Warden reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I need to talk to you about that, sir."

"Now Lieutenant. You don't think I didn't know about that hole you guys cut in my fence, do you?"

"But…. " Looking into the older officers broad smiling face he shook his head and asked. "When'd you first suspect me?"

"About the same time you walked onto the base. I'm ashamed to say it but Patrick's little tirade made me look twice at you, what with that pitiful excuse for a duty assignment they handed you."

So he hadn't imagined being followed back to his quarters. He wondered if all of his shadows had been keeping track of him for Patrick, or if Husoe had his own men tagging after him. "When'd you change your mind?"

"Oh, almost the same second. I figured any spy worth his salt would be able to come up with a better story than that! And then when you took over that gun up there… Well, I didn't figure you'd be such a quick study if you'd been shooting at your own side." As they stood and shook hands he continued. "You know Lieutenant, if you ever decide to give up those blisters you'd probably make a pretty good addition to a bomber crew, and you already know how to fly."

"No thanks, Colonel!" Garrison laughed "Casino's right. I think all you guys are a little bit crazy."

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"Who's gonna drive? I'm beat." The safecracker looked innocently around the group as they gathered in front of Husoes' command center and yawned. Waving his hand towards the Indian he said reasonably "Well, he always drives."

"I'll do it." Goniff shouldered past Casino and jabbed a finger in Actor's direction. "That one'll kill ya'. He drives like a maniac! 'sides I never get to drive." He helped Chief into the riders seat up front and waited as the Warden climbed into the back.

Casino settled on the back seat between the Warden and Actor, leaning forward he rested his arms on the top of the front seat. "That's 'cause we can't trust you to end up on the right side of the road!"

"Hey! I'm a good driver. I'm just out a practice, is all." Goniff asserted as he slid behind the wheel and started the car jerking on it's way, the gears protesting his mismanagement of the clutch.

"You'r just lousy, is all! See that!" Casino reached forward and punched Goniff in the shoulder. "You almost hit that! Pull over to the side you dumb Limey. You don't get to take your half out a the middle ya know!"

Garrison was leaning back in the corner with his eyes closed. "Casino!"

"Yeah, Warden, what is it?"

"You know that firing squad you've been worried about?"

"Yeah?" The safecracker's eyes widened slightly, and he turned his head to look at his leader.

"If you don't shut up so I can get some sleep back here," The Warden continued quietly, his eyes still closed, "I'm ordering Goniff to stop this thing and I'm going to form myself into a firing squad of one!"

Casino thought better of the comment that was on the tip of his tongue as Goniff ground the gears again. He'd seen the Warden with a gun,,, the guy never missed! The safecracker leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest and glared out the window in front of him.

Goniff watched Casino huffing to himself in the mirror and sniggered. "Hey, Warden?"

"Shut up and drive Goniff." The Lieutenant frowned, brows lowering over still shuttered eyes.

"But that game up there." The cockney persisted, refusing to take the hint. "How much d'you take 'em for then?"

One eye opened and fixed on the cat burglar's image in the rear view mirror. "Goniff," he said reasonably, "you could be standing right next to Casino…."

Ah, finally, he thought,, Silence.

Garrison burrowed down into the corner and prepared to go to sleep. He turned onto his right side, frowning as he had to shift his position to avoid resting on a rather sizable roll of bills he'd jammed deep in his pocket.