Colonel Hogan paused on the steps to his childhood home, inspecting the door. He was sure it had been pulled shut when he'd left this morning. Maybe he was imagining things. It had been another long day of dodging questions from his family, friends, and neighbors as they welcomed him home from the war. There were only so many things he could tell them about his time at Stalag 13, and none of it was the truth. Two weeks after coming home he still felt like a fish out of water. There was so much he'd missed, so many things that had changed, not just in Cleveland. He was a different person now than he had been four years ago. He'd done things he could never tell anyone…especially his parents.
He advanced slowly, frowning hard at the doorknob. Something in his gut told him to beware. And he'd grown used to listening to that feeling.
"What is it Rob?" his father asked with concern.
The colonel held a finger to his lips and whispered, "There's someone in there."
His mother scoffed, "Don't be silly Robert; you don't have to be so cautious anymore. I probably just didn't pull the door shut when we left this morning."
"Please mom, humor me," he replied as he cautiously pushed open the door slowly and stepped inside; his parents, ignoring his warning, were right on his heels.
Hogan looked around the entryway with a careful eye not immediately seeing anything out of the ordinary.
"See, I told you it wasn't anything," his mother chided, patting him on the arm and walking past him into the family room. "Oh my!" she exclaimed as she stopped abruptly.
"Mom, what is it?" Hogan rushed into the room.
"June!" His father ran to his mother's side.
The three of them stood in the middle of the room looking down at the woman seated regally in his mother's favorite tacky, floral armchair.
"Marya?!" Hogan exclaimed incredulously.
"Hogan, darling!" she rose dramatically and threw her arms out wide.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding!" Hogan rolled his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.
"Kidding? Me? Half way around the world I fly to see him and he thinks I'm kidding?" Marya said to his parents.
"You know this woman, Robert?" His mother asked him.
"I wish I didn't," he answered brusquely.
Marya pouted, "I'm hurt, colonel."
"What are you doing here?" Hogan asked her, clearly already frustrated with the situation.
"Well, I went to Stalag 13 first, but you had already gone. I never realized what a dreary place it was, all that barbed wire. I can't believe you stayed there so long."
"I was a prisoner of war," Hogan covered his face with his hand and shook his head in a long suffering way.
Marya let out a loud laugh, "A prisoner of war!" She laughed again, "You played at it nicely, but it was only playacting, darling. You came and went as you pleased. And we both know who was really running that camp."
Bob Hogan threw his son a curious look, "What's she talking about? You were a POW."
"Of course, dad. She doesn't know what she's talking about," the colonel answered evasively, never taking his eyes off the White Russian. "What do you want, Marya?"
"I can't believe you didn't blow it up when you left…Stalag 13, I mean."
"We left peacefully and on our own terms and I handed it over to the Allies myself. There was no reason to blow it up."
"But it would've been fun, no?" Marya asked, a twinkle in her eye.
"No," Hogan huffed out. "What are you doing here," he asked for the third time.
Marya wrapped her palm around the back of Hogan's neck, pulling him close to her, "I need your help," she said, looking into his eyes.
"I'm retired," he replied coldly.
"Bah," she waived his comment away with a movement of her hand, "you think the war is over for people like us? It is just beginning. High level Nazis have gone into hiding all over Europe. Now that so many of the soldiers have gone home they need spies to track those still loyal to the Third Reich down and bring them to justice."
His mother let out a shocked gasp.
"I am not a spy," Hogan stated plainly, his voice deadly calm.
It was Marya's turn to roll her eyes now. "Right, and I'm not Russian."
She turned to his parents, "He forgets how many times we worked together during the war. I saw him many times in German uniform, speaking the language like a native. Now if he was not a spy then why would he have helped me blow up Bobo?"
"Rob, what did you blow up? What is she talking about?" his mother questioned.
"I didn't know you spoke German," his father said at the same time.
"Bobo was your target, the rocket fuel depot was mine," Hogan replied harshly, half yelling now and punctuating his words with a pointed finger. "And as I recall you didn't leave me much choice in the matter, being that I was a hostage at the time." He wrapped his arms around himself and shifted his focus from the Russian agent he'd never really trusted to the two people in the world that he trusted implicitly…and yet, they knew less about him then she did. And he couldn't tell them the truth. Rob looked away from the too perceptive eyes of his father, focusing on the floor at his feet instead, "This is classified information. My…friend…doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut."
Marya wisely and uncharacteristically decided that this was precisely the time to keep her mouth shut. Her lips curving into a grin, she watched the interplay between the American colonel she had always been fascinated with and his unknowing family.
"Were you a spy like she says?" his father asked softly, piercing his son with a gaze that carried with it all of his pride, suspicions, and fears for his only son.
Rob looked at him for a long moment, his eyes filled with regret and pain. His lips pursed together to keep the words from flowing out in spite of his decision to remain silent.
"Why the secrecy?" Marya's heavily accented English cut through the tense silence, "You don't have to worry about the Gestapo anymore. No need to lie to avoid a firing squad. Just tell the truth."
Hogan shot her thunderous look, "Because I'm still under orders and, Gestapo or not, the operation at Stalag 13 is something I'm not at liberty to talk about…not with anyone."
She cocked her head and gave him a long, pitying look, then turned toward each of his parents. In the eyes of the Hogans she saw all the unanswered questions that she knew her own family shared, all the worry and the pain and the wondering at what danger she would face next. Reaching a hand out she covered June Hogan's cold and trembling one with her own. "Well…I don't work for his government…and I was there. I know the truth." Rob's mother bit her lip and looked deep into the woman's eyes, waiting to hear what she would say, "He was brilliant. Always brilliant. The colonel saved many lives during the war, including mine. You should be proud of him…as I am."
June let out a little sob and reached up to wipe away tears at the words of the strange Russian woman. "Thank you," she said simply.
"I always knew there had to be some reason you didn't escape," his father's voice was filled with emotion. "You knew your duty. And I knew you would go down fighting if you could. I always suspected something more. Your letters were always so…blank. You were trying too hard not to give anything away."
Rob sat down in the armchair that Marya had previously occupied and took a deep, steadying breath. "I can't say anymore, dad…about any of it. Please don't ask again. I'm so sorry that I can't tell you everything. I want to. But…" he spread his hands helplessly, "And I can't corroborate anything that she might say."
His father shook his head, a sheen of moisture in his eyes. Then he raised his hand and saluted his son.
Hogan returned the salute.
"Such a touching family moment," Marya commented.
Hogan turned his attention back to her, sitting forward in the chair, elbows on knees; he looked her in the eyes and asked one final time, "What are you doing here, huh? Spill. What kind of mission does a Russian agent need my help with after the war is over?"
She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "I already told you that high profile Nazis are disappearing all over Germany. They've gone into hiding, and the Allied powers are looking for them."
Hogan nodded.
"But what I didn't tell you is that Kommandant Klink is one of those who have disappeared."
"Klink! He's not a high profile Nazi. He's a Luftwaffe officer who followed orders…and he didn't even do that well." After a moment's thought Hogan cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at her, "What do you mean disappeared?"
"I told you I went to Stalag 13. But something happened after you left Hogan; something that the Allies need us to investigate."
"What happened?" Hogan probed.
Marya retrieved her handbag. From its depths she pulled a black and white glossy photo and handed it to Hogan without a word.
He took a deep, ragged breath as he stared at the words "Hogan Help" written out on Klink's desk. "Is that blood?"
"It is…Colonel Klink's we believe."
Hogan covered his face with his hand. Marya took the picture from him and laid it on the coffee table. "Why would he write that do you think? 'Hogan Help' in English…written on his desk…in his blood. Like he was calling for you. Like whoever took him was trying to get to you."
Hogan hung his head, running his hands through his hair, "He didn't deserve…He never did anything to…" his voice trailed off. He sat in silence for a moment, his thoughts swirling in a jumble inside his head. Thoughts of Klink, Schultz, his men…of all those he'd wronged during the war. But one face kept looming larger and larger in his mind. He shivered involuntarily at the memory of being interrogated by the short statured Gestapo major. He'd had a vendetta against Hogan for years.
The colonel raised his head and glanced at the picture again, then said the name out loud that haunted his mind, "Hochstetter."
"Hochstetter," Marya agreed flatly with a nod of her head. "He is also missing. The Allies have reason to believe he may have taken your Kommandant."
Hogan let out a harsh laugh and rose from his chair. He turned from the group purposefully and began pacing the length of the family room. Three sets of eyes followed him for several tense, silent minutes.
At last his father moved to stand in the path of his troubled child, "Son?"
Rob stopped mid-stride, eyes unfocused and far away, "Hochstetter…I'm thousands of miles away…home…and he's still after me, haunting me. Why? Why would he go after Klink? The war's over. What more can he want from me?"
"Your life," came the heavily accented response from his fellow spy, "with the end of the Third Reich the major's life is over. Perhaps he blames you, wants to take you with him."
Hogan whirled on her, "Do you know what that madman is capable of? Klink could already be dead."
She shrugged calmly, "He could be. Are you willing to take that chance?"
He stood for a moment, staring into space, not seeing the inside of his childhood home, but instead seeing the barbed wire and wooden huts of Stalag 13. He closed his eyes and sighed. He knew he couldn't abandon Klink.
When he opened his eyes he found Marya grinning at him with a knowing smile, "I knew you would agree to help me," she gloated.
"There's just one little problem," Hogan said. "I don't take orders from Stalin."
Marya smiled widely, "No problem darling…You should be receiving a call any moment now from your general."
Hogan gave her a smirk, "You thought of everything, didn't you?"
She winked back at him, "Of course, Hogan…I always do."