Familiar Ground

The plane was just ahead, just a few more yards ahead. Goniff, Casino then Chief reached it and threw themselves on board, Casino pushing the wounded cockney in front of him, as the pilot brought the engines power up and started moving forward, gaining speed for his take off. Garrison tossed his automatic rife in first and jumped, landing on his stomach on the floor in the opening he twisted around quickly, gripping the metal frame as he turned and reached back to pull Actor in. It was close, but they'd made it. A flash of sunlight glinting from the pursuing German jeep caught his attention. Leaning further out the opening he shouted "Come on!" and strained to grasp Actor's outstretched hand. He watched as the Italian's long legs stretched out to increase his speed. Catching at the light touch of finger tips he looked on as bullets from the pursuing vehicle stitched their way along the dust towards the fleeing man, tearing his hand out of his tenuous grasp when they found their mark and dropped the con man on the uneven ground of the field as the plane continued to gather speed.

Garrison pushed himself to his knees and watched the men on the ground as he stripped his jacket off. He saw the jeep slide to a stop and the driver get out and turn Actor roughly onto his back using the muzzle of his weapon. And he saw Actor put his hands up in surrender. Wind whipped his hair as he glanced quickly back into the interior of the plane. Casino was helping Goniff lean back against the wall opposite the door, using the pressure of his hand over the wound in the cat burglar's arm to control the bleeding. Chief had just started to move towards him, coming back to the door in response to Actor's absence. Wadding his jacket in a tight ball he tossed it in Chief's face just as the realization of what he was about to do dawned in the young man's eyes. Catching up his rife he rolled out the opening as the plane's wheels left the ground.

Chief tore the jacket away from his face and threw it from him. The plane was in the air, gaining speed and altitude every second. Grabbing the frame he leaned out and stared back on the field. Two men stood over Actor with their rifles trained on him as he lay on his back in the dirt. The young man urgently scanned the ground between the men and the plane's diminishing shadow as it raced along the ground. There was no sign of the Warden. As he shouted at the others and turned for the cockpit the plane's landing gear caught the tree tops jolting the craft and slamming him hard against the floor, stunning him and sending up the sharp odor of pine resin and filling the air around them with the screeching sound of twisted metal.

Lying on his back in the icy water of the irrigation ditch, cradling his weapon in his arms, Garrison watched the plane disappear over the tree tops as the starboard landing gear crashed through the branches and landed at the far edge of the field. Rolling onto his belly he started to crawl carefully through the mud and reeds back towards the middle of the field where he could hear the soldiers shout for their captive to 'Stand or be shot.'

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Creeping slowly along the trench, inching past the sound of angry orders and murmured responses he made his way to a position between the soldiers and their vehicle. Using his hands he parted the reeds and scanned the area around the jeep, searching the route they'd taken to reach the field. Good! No sign of back up, nothing but the two men who threatened Actor… Yet. They had to get out of here before anyone else showed up. Turning he crept back along the small canal and got as close as he could to the three men before pushing himself up into a crouch and bringing the weapon to his shoulder.

Actor stared up along the barrel of the automatic that was directed at his face. The man that held it was young, determined, and angry, his finger was already beginning to squeeze down on the trigger. The confidence man closed his eyes and said a silent prayer, asking for forgiveness of his sins and short comings, and added a request that the young man's aim be true and his end swift. Sound and pain came together with a flash of light as a great weight drove the air from his lungs. Another sharp report from a rifle, but he felt no additional pain and only heard the muffled crash of something heavy landing on the ground near his head.

Garrison kept his rifle up and the men on the ground in his sights as he moved up out of the ditch in a crouching run. Nothing! No movement, no sound… From any of them. He prodded the first man he came to hard in the back with his weapon and then kicked the other off Actor with his boot. Making a quick survey of the man as he dropped down by his side he took in the crimson stain on the side of his trousers and the blood oozing from small round wound on his face near his right eye. Holding his breath he wiped the mud from his hand and reached out to search for a pulse at the con man's throat. Relief flooded through him as the bounding proof of life telegraphed itself through his fingertips. "Actor! Can you hear me?"

The man on the ground took in a huge shuddering breath. Slowly opening his eyes he stared intently into Garrison's face, boring into the hazel eyes with his own dark gaze. "Have you gone out of you mind?! You were safely away on the plane!"

Raising his eyebrows in grateful amusement he reached out to grasp the hand held out to him. "You're welcome!" Pulling Actor into a sitting position Garrison searched through his pockets for a folded cloth to lay over the wound on the side of his second's face, placing the man's hand over it he urged him to apply pressure as he turned his attention to the injured leg. "I can always catch the next one." he mumbled. Tearing the fabric he found the entry wound about half way between the hip and knee on the back of the left leg. No exit wound. Damn! He'd have to find a doctor or carve it out himself. Glancing quickly around them he shouldered his weapon and stood, pulling the injured man up with him. "Come on, we've got to get out of here. They may have radioed for help." Bending forward quickly he slid a shoulder under the tall Italian and lifted him off his feet drawing him across his back and shoulder as the con man groaned in protest.

Actor watched as he was unceremoniously carried past the jeep and the weapons lying on the ground near the dead men. "The guns? The vehicle…?" The uniforms, he thought, the papers!

"We've got to leave it all. If we take anything they'll know someone's still on the ground." The signs of the plane were there to be seen, he hoped anyone who came across the men, and the Warden knew in his soul someone was already on the way, would concentrate on those and believe they'd all gotten away. It would be hard enough to get an injured man out of Italy by himself, he didn't need a pack of German soldiers tracking him too.

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Garrison moved quickly towards the trees, out of the open and back into deep cover. Finding a small clearing surrounded by dense brush at the base of a large tree he carefully lowered Actor to the ground. Laying his automatic aside he shrugged out of his shoulder holster, grabbing the front of his shirt he gave a firm jerk, sending buttons flying as he stripped it off and started tearing the fabric into strips.

"You're insane!" accepting the folded cloth Actor gritted his teeth as he pressed it against the wound in his leg and held it in place as the Lieutenant tied it down with another strip of fabric. "You'll freeze to death in this weather."

The Warden surveyed his handiwork and reached out to squeeze Actor's shoulder as he picked up his rifle. "I'll stay warm enough lugging you around these woods." Turning he ran back out onto the field to make a last check, make sure nothing of theirs was left behind to tip the Germans to their presence. Searching the ground he found nothing but the blood stain and impression Actor left where he fell. Pulling one of the dead soldiers up to cover the area he willed any observer to believe the man had fallen and then jerked forward in his death throes.

Passing the jeep on the way back to the trees he stopped and turned back as the comment Actor made penetrated through the surge of adrenaline and his overwhelming urge for haste. Moving up on the vehicle he made a quick survey of the contents in the back and saw just what he hoped for... Two coats thrown there by the soldiers when they'd gotten too warm as they patrolled the area before they spotted his group and gave chase. Lifting the heavy garments off the floor he checked for a first aid pouch or ration pack but came up empty as the sound of engines coming rapidly along the road reached his ears. Gathering the coats in his arms he raced for the trees and slid in under the brush bordering the field just as another jeep came in sight followed closely by a truck with half a dozen German soldiers riding on benches in the back.

Hidden in the underbrush he watched as they approached the scene. They weren't on alert, none of them held their weapons ready for action. The jeep slowed and pulled carefully off the road onto the rough surface of the field as the truck pulled to a stop, waiting. The men weren't responding to a radio call for help, he realized, they were traveling along the route on their own business and had spotted the jeep stranded in the field. The vehicle was blocking their view of the men on the ground. Garrison pushed the coats aside, out of his way, and stretched out on his belly bringing his weapon up, readying himself to defend their position if the men came this way.

He took a deep breath settling himself in as he sighted along the barrel of the rifle and watched. The second jeep came to a halt in back of the first and the driver got out, moving cautiously towards the abandoned vehicle. It looked like the man might be holding a pistol in his hand. After a quick look in the jeep the bodies on the field must have finally caught his attention because he turned and shouted for the others and ran forward to check the men that lay sprawled in the grass. The three others from the jeep were racing forward now, huddling around the man as he confirmed the deaths. One of them turned towards him to survey the tree line surrounding the field and Garrison willed himself to sink deeper into the duff and leaves under the bushes. The driver of the truck pulled onto the field forward of the two jeeps, and from their higher vantage point in the back two of the men were gesturing out onto the field. One of them jumped down from the truck and strode out into the open, calling back over his shoulder he motioned for the others to come forward as he came to a halt next to the tracks the plane's tires left in the soft dirt. As he watched another soldier sighted along the furrows in the ground and gestured towards the far edge of the field, drawing attention to the gap in the tree tops where the plane had torn through bare minutes before.

Garrison pulled the strap over his head and settled the rifle onto his back. Gathering the coats in his arms he squirmed backwards, never taking his eyes off the action on the field until he moved through a curtain of underbrush that finally blocked his sight. Pushing up to a crouch he ran for Actor's simple sanctuary.

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"How many?" The sound of the engines had reached him along with the muffled shouts of the new arrivals. Actor lower the pistol he'd snatched from Garrison's holster when he'd heard the sounds of someone moving towards him through the brush.

"A dozen, maybe more." Swinging the weapon off his back he shook out one of the coats and pulled it on. Glancing down at his second his mouth turned up in a quick smile. "Satisfied?" Shaking out the other he dropped down to help Actor into it. There was a fine sheen of sweat across the aristocratic face and the Italian con man clutched his own jacket around him as he started to shake with shock in reaction to his injuries. "What about the leg? Do you think it's broken?"

"I don't think so. It's just gone a bit numb around the wound. I was able to raise myself up on it when you came crashing back in here." The older man started to lever himself up, attempting to stand. If they were going to move they'd need to do it now, while the leg was numb, if it would hold him, before the pain hit and the bleeding made him too weak to travel under his own power. He knew it, and so did his commander.

Garrison drew Actor's right arm across the back of his neck and threw his arm around the man's waist, grabbing his belt as the older man pulled himself up and stepped out to try his weight on the injured leg. A stifled moan told him what the attempt cost. "Nice and slow. We're going to move straight away from here and put as much ground between us as possible while they search the field." Pulling the hand down against his shoulder, leaning to the right, he tried to take as much of Actor's weight as he could as they moved off through the trees.

"Do you think they will follow us?"

"Only if they have dogs along that can sniff us out. The driver of the truck ran right over our tracks and then the men in the back trampled all over them when they got down. Would have pissed the hell out of Chief." Garrison shot a worried glance along his shoulder as the con man stumbled. "You know how he gets…"

The reply was forced out through clenched jaws. "For someone who claims to be 'no tracker' he seems unnaturally interested in foot prints and shoe size."

Garrison shifted his grip, the perspiration on Actor's hand was making it slick and hard to grasp. "You think he's developing an obsession?"

There was a snort of laughter followed by a low whine of pain. "Foot fetish…" and the confidence expert went limp.

"Nice try." Garrison expertly turned the taller man against a tree and leaning down to catch him around the back of his legs shifted him up onto his shoulder and continued on their way stooping under his load. The big Italian was heavy. He'd have to find a safe place to see to his injuries and let him rest while he found them some sort of transportation. The maps were in his jacket, along with the film of the documents they'd been sent in to get. He said a silent prayer that his men would get safe back to England with it, and that the pilot had enough skill to bring that bird down on one leg. The way he'd ripped through the tree tops Garrison doubted the landing gear he had left would retract, even by hand.

Clearing his mind he forced his memory to focus on the area map he'd studied and shifted his direction more to the east. If he was right there was a town that direction, and hills above it. Hills meant water, caves or canyons where they could hide. A town would have cars, trucks… A doctor? Underground? Craig hadn't been told anything about partisan activity in the area. Maybe it didn't exist, maybe the brass just hadn't thought they'd needed that information to pull off the latest job. The plane and pilot had been sent in from England, and the pilot had hauled his own fuel for the return trip, gassing up by hand as he waited for them to reach the field. Thank God he'd finished the job and had the propellers turning when they'd been chased down along the road by that damn jeep. Everything had gone perfectly until they showed up. Even their own truck giving up the ghost less than a quarter mile from the extraction site hadn't caused them too much concern. They were so close…! Just a couple of inches more and he would have been able to haul Actor into the plane! Garrison shook his head and shook himself back to reality. Going over what could have, should have happened wouldn't do them any good, he had to concentrate on what needed to happen now.

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He found their cave. Just as the light was failing. Just as his knees threatened to collapse in protest at carrying more than twice his weight up hill for so long. The place was dry and had a fire ring built along the back wall, a smudge of soot ran up the rocks and out across the deep overhang, standing witness to the area's use by hunters or travelers in the past. The long gone past Garrison thought, even the smell of burned wood was gone from the ashes that were left in the ring. Shifting Actor off his shoulder he lowered him carefully down onto the smooth dirt near the old fire ring and hunkered down to check the bandage on the leg. The cloth of the trouser leg and bandage was soaked with blood but the bleeding seemed to have stopped for now so he didn't lift the dressing away, no sense in getting that started up again. Moving to examine the wound near his eye in the failing light he could make out blood caked in rivulets that ran up across the high forehead and into the fastidious con man's hair. His breathing and pulse were a little fast but steady, however he was cold and his clothes were damp with sweat.

All right, he thought, first order of business, fire.

If he'd kept the right course and had recalled the map clearly the town was still further around these hills to the south, the cave was facing territory they'd already covered. They hadn't crossed any road or path, Garrison had seen no sign of a farm or home of any kind. There should be no one out there to see the flickering light of a small fire if its glow reached further than the trees that stood guard outside the entrance to this shelter. He'd build the damn thing even if that weren't true, he chided himself, Actor needed the warmth. There was plenty of fuel within steps of the entrance, dry, small enough to break up with his hands. Patting through the pockets of his stolen coat he blessed the almost universal addiction of soldiers to smoking as he pulled a lighter from the deep pocket on the right front panel.

Setting his little pyramid of kindling alight he patiently fed larger and larger pieces to it until it burned steadily on its own. Turning back to Actor he made a closer examination of his face and frowned.

Second order of business, water!

If Actor came to and put his hands on that mess he'd never hear the end of it. It wouldn't matter that there wasn't a mirror for miles the narcissistic sophisticate's elegant finger tips would find every flake of dried blood, every smudge of dirt, every imperfection on that face and every snarl in the thick dark hair. Garrison freely admitted to himself that he'd rather face a Gestapo interrogation than listen to the complaints that would elicit. He'd heard the riffle of a small stream as he searched the base of the hills for this shelter, it couldn't be far. Casting a desperate glance around the small cavern he blessed the forgetful idiot who'd left the metal bowl behind, until he spotted the small hole that some how managed to be in the side a little better than half way to the rim. Placing his finger over the hole to plug it he swore softly as jagged metal pierced his flesh. Sucking on the painful spot he pondered why anyone would knock a nail through the side of a bowl and came up with the bright idea that someone had nailed the thing to a tree to shave…….. 'Aw Hell!' he thought. 'There's a mirror around here somewhere too!' He checked to make certain Actor was resting comfortably and headed towards the sound of water.

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When Actor came to his senses again it was to the rhythmic sound of dripping water and the crackle of a small fire. He started when the cool cloth touched his face.

"Take it easy. Just a little more…" Garrison rocked back on his heels. The wound and face were clean, he couldn't do much about the hair. He caught Actor's hand as he reached up to touch his face, guiding it back down he slipped it under the coat he'd thrown over him. "Keep your hands down, no sense getting it dirty again. How do you feel?"

"If I said 'fine' would you believe me?" The older man opened his eyes, winced and turned his head away from the light of the fire. "It feels as if half my face has been torn away."

"It only feels that way." Garrison reassured him quickly. "It's not that bad actually. I think you got hit by the barrel of the man's gun when he fell." He looked at the wound again, if they had a doctor around to stitch it, it would be nothing. With no way to hold the flap of skin down Actor might end up with a scar, something that would concern him far more than the wound in his leg. "You might end up with a very distinguished scar next to your eye there." He was ready and caught the hand again as it came up.

The con artist closed his eyes. He could imagine what he looked like. All these years, he mused, and never a mark… "I'll have to come up with a story."

"Duel?"

"Certainly. Over a lady's honor." It actually had some appeal. It would lend some drama and mystery to his characters. He sighed and opened his eyes again. It could have been much worse… he could have lost the eye. He'd used an eye patch occasionally and had no desire to make it a permanent part of his persona.

"How's the leg?"

"Throbbing very noticeably. Did the bullet go all the way through?" he asked.

"Afraid not."

"Then you are going to have to remove it if you can't find a doctor." Actor looked around their shelter and settled his gaze on his commander. "Is it safe to assume we are not near a town with a doctor?"

"If I remember the map correctly there should be a town about four miles from here."

"I can hardly make that…" Actor watched the Warden's face pale slightly. "There's no sense in putting this off." He hoped he'd sounded more confident than he felt.

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Garrison was laying out the supplies in their makeshift 'surgery'. He used the metal bowl to boil the blade of his knife. At least that would be clean. There was no soap around. A thorough search of their refuge had only turned up the fragments of that mirror and the rusted remnants of a metal lantern tossed away in a corner He tore the lining out of the coat he'd taken for himself and would use that for bandages and binding, but the best he could do to clean his hands was to scrub them over and over in the gravel of the stream and then douse them with hot water. "I wish our positions were reversed."

"I'm ashamed to admit I agree with you, but what are you're reasons?" Actor fully realized he wanted no part in the pain he was about to experience no matter how 'necessary' it was to remove the bullet and tend to the wound. How many times had he fed the others that line and reassured them that it wouldn't take him long? This would be the first time he'd be on the receiving end of the procedure. Some how he didn't find the prospect appealing.

"You know more about what you're doing when it comes to this stuff." There was just a slight hesitation in the Warden's voice. He had the training to do the job, but for the months they'd worked together Actor had always taken on the part of the group's medic. "I wish we had Chief here too." And to Actor's questioning glance the Lieutenant answered with a shrug, "His knife's sharper than mine."

With the Warden's help Actor turned onto his belly and slipped the folded cloth he held in his hand between his teeth. They'd thrown the coat Garrison had been using around a large rock and the con man grasped a sleeve in each hand. Glancing over his shoulder his attention was drawn by the knife the Lieutenant held in his hands. Taking a deep breath Actor nodded and turned away as the other man set to work.

Garrison rested his weight on Actor's lower leg, pinning it to the ground as he spread the fingers of his left hand on either side of the wound, he had to follow as Actor tried to move away from the pressure. He'd prodded the injury enough to know the bullet's position. The slug didn't seem very deep and with luck he'd have it out in a moment, but he still said a quick prayer and wished Actor would make it easier on both of them and pass out. He closed his eyes briefly before he started and searched back in his memory to what they'd taught them about the anatomy of the muscles of the back of the leg. Shifting slightly he brought the knife down in a quick stroke and prayed he'd gotten it right, that he'd sliced along the length of the muscle so the damage wouldn't be so great, if he made a mistake here he could cripple the sophisticated con artist. A distinguished scar was one thing, a leg that required a brace and cane…… it didn't do to think about it. There'd been a moan and jerk from the man at the initial incision but somehow he'd managed to master the pain and lay still now, waiting.

Another slice and Garrison felt his knife grate against the slug. Turning the tip of the blade into the wound he worked it under the object and tried to lever it out but met with resistance. He forced the fingers of his left hand down into the wound and found he'd done a good job in following the muscle fibers, they'd closed back around the bullet and he had to spread the wound wide to get the slug out. Lifting it free he tossed it aside and turned back to pad the injury with the dressings he'd created, pressing down to control the bleeding. Blood quickly soaked the first pad and as he picked up the next to place it over the first he glanced up to see how Actor was holding up. Reaching up he tugged the man's arm down where he could check his pulse, it was rapid but regular. The con man had lost consciousness and was blissfully unaware of his surroundings.

It took a concentrated hour to stop the bleeding and get the wound dressed. Garrison finished ripping the sleeves from the coat, Actor had started the job during the initial incision, and folded one into a square to pillow his second's head, the other he rolled and placed under the knee of the injured leg when he turned him onto his back. He spread the coat over him and checked to make sure he was resting quietly before leaving to wash his hands in the stream, and bring more wood in for the fire. If they were lucky the big Italian would remain asleep for several hours, putting off his discomfort and giving the wound time to bind before they had to be on the move.

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