I'm an invisible man. Okay, I'm not actually invisible. I may as well be, though. I'm the guy you always see hanging around the barracks; the one you look through to see the stars of the show. I'm about 5'8, not too tall or short to stand out at roll call, and I have mousey hair and hazel eyes. Even my name is unimaginative: Corporal John Smith.

So, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised I'd had trouble fitting in since I came to Stalag 13 a few months ago. Not because I'm a jerk, but because no one ever noticed me long enough to remember my name. Take the other day. I'd finished my morning walk around the compound and decided to have a smoke by Barrack 2. It was one of those rare mornings in Germany where it was so hot, you felt like you'd gulped hot sand every time you breathed. The southern boys in camp liked it because it reminded them of home in the land of cotton and alligators, but it was a little hard on a boy from Minnesota, the land of 10,000 frozen lakes.

No sooner had my skin stopped pumping out sweat by the gallon than Newkirk and Carter came marching out of the barracks.

I waved. "Hi, fellas."

Newkirk grunted back while Carter whipped his head around. "Hey, uh..."

"Corporal Smith," I offered, trying to squash my annoyance.

Carter nodded. "Right. You're from Duluth?"

I winced as my molars ground together. My mom always said she'd pull them out with a doorknob and a piece of string when I did that. "I'm from St. Paul."

Newkirk tugged Carter's arm. "Let's go."

I straightened. "Something up?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," Newkirk replied, his gaze following a Kraut staff car as it stopped by Klink's office.

"Can I help?" I asked, trying to pull my hopes down before they floated away.

Corporal Tea Sipper pulled Sergeant Hayseed along with him. "Not today, mate. Leave this one to the professionals."

I sighed and reached for a cigarette while they trotted off. That's right; I know all about Stalag 13. But I'm not one of the guys sneaking under the fence or dressing up like SS. All I ever get to do is fool Schultz by moving around at roll call or hand out towels when the Colonel decides we need to give some Kraut mucky mucks a bath in heavy water.

It didn't take long to find out what Newkirk and Carter were up to this time. They started yelling at each other when a Nazi in a black coat and mustache got out of the car.

"Awh, come off it, Carter. I didn't pinch your wallet!"

Carter stepped so close to Newkirk their noses almost touched. "Who else would've taken it? Everyone knows you'll steal anything you can get your hands on!"

The Kraut, Gestapo if I remembered right, slammed his door. "What is this?"

What's his name again? I thought, pulling my cigarettes out of my jacket pocket. Hoch something. Hochenheimer? Naw, that sounds like a bad name for sausage. Hochstraggler maybe?

Newkirk shoved Carter's shoulders. "Who you calling a thief, nitwit?"

"Nitwit!" Carter raised a fist. "Why, I oughta…"

Newkirk leapt at the kid and the two tumbled into the dirt.

The Kraut raised his voice as he watched the tussle. "What is going on here?"

Is it Hochstalker? Hochstettler?

The commotion finally caught two guards' attention and they rushed over to break up the fight. Another car door opened and a short man in a brown coat and grey fedora got out. "Major Hochstetter, what is this?"

I snapped my fingers. Right, Hochstetter.

The guards managed to pry Newkirk and Carter apart by the time Klink charged out of his headquarters. "What is going on here?" he whined, eyes widening once he spotted his guests. "Oh, Major Hochstetter, what an unexpected surprise."

"What are these men doing here?" Hochstetter bellowed.

Klink's gaze darted around the compound. "Schultz!"

Hochstetter's lips curled into a snarl. "Never mind him! Just get these prisoners out of here."

The Kommandant nodded. "Of course." He waved to the guards. "Take them back to the barracks. I'll deal with them later."

I laughed. The tough guy act never worked for Klink. He always sounded more like Peter Lore than Jimmy Cagney.

Newkirk, guard in tow, lurched toward the little guy, who'd put on a pair of granny glasses. Next thing I knew, Mr. Quick Fingers had tripped, startling the guard enough to let him fall on the German. "Sorry, sir," he said, his fingers dancing inside the guy's inner coat pocket. "How clumsy of me. Are you alright?" He pocketed the papers he retrieved and brushed the guy off.

"Yes," the German replied, his eyebrows arched.

"Klink!" Hochstetter screamed.

Newkirk's guard gathered him up and hurried after the guard with Carter before Klink could bark out an order. I fought the urge to give the guys a round of applause. Their performance deserved an Academy Award. Too bad no one else had seen it.

Instead, I gave them a thumbs up as the guards pushed them inside and hovered around the door. At least they get to do something worthwhile while they're stuck here. What have I done lately?

It could always be worse, a little voice inside me said. Remember what happened to Private Murray?

How could I forget? The Colonel made him fake appendicitis and insisted on escorting him to the hospital. He gave an orderly working for the underground microfilm of a new V2 rocket instillation while the doctors cut poor Murray up. The kid had never even had a case of indigestion before. Now he's got a scar the size of my middle finger.

While I felt sorry for Murray and myself, I noticed Kinch and LeBeau jogging toward me.

I got my waving hand out again. "Hi, fellas. Whatcha up to?"

Kinch shook his head. "Sorry, we don't have time to chat. We've got some business to take care of."

Hope snuck up on me again. "Would you like some help?"

"No," LeBeau grunted over his shoulder, banging the door shut behind them.

I sighed. What can I say; I'm a sucker for rejection. Ask the girl who lives next door to me back home. I asked her for a date 100 times if I asked her once.

I lit a cigarette and savored its woody flavour. They can take away my freedom and other comforts. But God help them if they ever take my smokes away because I'll kill them.

The guards' lips trembled as I exhaled in their direction. "Oh, sorry fellas." I held my pack out to them. "Would you like one?"

"Danka," the one closest to me said, leaning toward my lit lighter. I smiled. They reminded me of me; forgettable and under appreciated. My dad was the same way. His bosses at the plant kept passing him over for promotion until Mom told him, 'stand up for yourself, Matt. Tell them you're not going anywhere until they've made you supervisor.' Next day, he came home with a $10 raise and a new title.

I inhaled again. Why couldn't I do that, too? Just walk right into the barracks and tell Colonel Hogan I want to help out more. What's the worst he could do?

I gave my unfinished cigarette to the guards, strode inside and knocked on the Colonel's door.

LeBeau opened it, frowning when he saw me. "What do you want?"

I folded my arms. "I want to see Colonel Hogan."

"He can't see you right now," he hissed.

I pushed on the door. "But I have something important to discuss with him."

LeBeau pushed back. "It'll have to wait. He has other things to worry about right now." He slammed the door in my face before I could reply.

My cheeks burned. So much for manners toward your comrades in arms.

Well, I guess I have to prove I can do more than be in background, I thought, grinning. And I know just how I can.

Before I lost my courage, I hurried out of the barracks and burst into Klink's outer office. "Howdy, Fraulein…."

I stopped when I noticed her empty chair. Huh. I guess she's on a coffee break. Oh well. Now I can spy more discretely. I looked around the office. Where should I stand?

By the door, stupid, my inner voice said. How else do you expect to hear anything?

I crept forward and pressed my ear against it. Oh, great, I can't make out a thing. I should've brought a glass with me.

I jumped back when something crashed. "Shut up, Klink!" Hochstetter shouted. "This discussion is getting us nowhere!"

I ducked behind a filing cabinet as footsteps headed for me. I flattened myself against it when the door banged open.

"Bah!" Hochstetter barked. "That man's a menace!"

"Yes," the little German replied. "I've never met someone so incompetent."

Hochstetter snorted. "You're being kind. He doesn't have enough brains to fill the bottom of a beer stein."

My heart pounded as his boot tips appeared around the cabinet. Funny, they're scuffed. You'd think a guy as anal about his job as he is would have them spit-shined to perfection.

The little guy coughed. "I hope the Kommandant hasn't upset your plans, Major. You're so close to catching Papa Bear."

I sat up. Holy smokes.

The tips inched closer. "Keep your voice down," Hochstetter growled. "There are spies everywhere."

I held my breath. Don't look down.

"Of course. Still, you must be pleased, just as I was pleased to offer my help when you asked for it."

I jumped when a fist smacked the cabinet. "You can't underestimate Papa Bear, Herr Doktor Kroeber. He has the ability to stay one step ahead of even the smartest men. Although, I suspect someone's helping him a great deal."

A pause. "Surely, you don't think I'm a traitor, Major. Remember, I told you as soon as I knew about the rendezvous at the abandoned barn north of this camp tonight."

I pictured the Kraut's cold eyes boring into his stool pigeon. "I trust no one. You should do the same. It'll keep you alive longer."

The boot tips shifted closer. I'm not one for praying, but I asked the man upstairs to do me a favour and save my hide.

"I'll keep that in mind," said Kroeber "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get some rest before tonight. I suggest you do the same."

Hochstetter's boots retreated. "Very well. Klink has offered us his quarters. Why don't we use them? It's probably the most useful thing he's ever done for the Third Reich."

I exhaled in jerky breaths once their footsteps moved away and a door closed behind them. I've got to warn the Colonel.

I waited a few seconds, then bolted into the compound. I turned as a horn blasted, the truck attached to it almost clipping me. "Watch it, bub!" I shouted, swearing when I punched the hood. I shook my wounded knuckles and yanked Barrack 2's door open with my other hand. "Hey Colonel…."

The five core members of the Stalag 13 operation glared at me from around the common table. "Can you give us a minute?" Colonel Hogan asked. "We're right in the middle of something."

"But, Colonel," I sputtered.

"I promise we'll talk the minute I'm done. Why don't you relax and enjoy the sunshine while you're waiting?" He pushed the door closed in my face.

My healthy knuckles rapped on the wood. "Colonel, wait! Colonel!" I swore and stomped toward a truck parked by the kennels. I ought to let him get captured. He didn't even let me say it was important. I kicked the truck's tire. I hate being an invisible man. Just once I'd like to be taken seriously.

"Hey!" I turned around and came face to face with a kid who looked like a Greek statue come to life. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out how to save my commanding officer," I muttered before I caught myself.

His eyebrows crunched together. "What?"

I put my hands in my pockets. "Forget it."

He frowned. "Did you say Colonel Hogan's in trouble?"

It was my eyebrows' turn to rise. "How do you know him?"

"He helped me once." He offered his hand. "I'm Johan, Oskar Schnitzer's nephew."

I took it. "Corporal Smith."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Now what did you say about Colonel Hogan?"

I debated whether or not to tell him, but the guy had an honest face. So, I lowered my voice and took a leap of faith. "The Gestapo know about a rendezvous he has with the underground tonight. The trouble is he wouldn't listen to me when I tried to warn him."

Johan rubbed his chin. "You know where and when it'll happen?" He grinned when I nodded. "What are we waiting for? Get in the back!"

A cold hand squeezed my stomach. "Are you crazy? I'm a prisoner! I can't walk out of here anytime I feel like it."

Johan pulled me along. "No time to argue. Get in before the guards see us." He opened the cab doors and tossed me in with a German Shepard before I could protest. The dog's lips curled back, revealing sharp yellow teeth as he growled. "Quiet, Dietrich." He turned to me. "He won't hurt you."

For the third time in an hour, a door shut in my face before I could object. I sneezed. The cab smelled like wet fur and a few hundred dog presents.

I sighed and reached to scratch Dietrich's ears. "I guess we're riding together." I yanked my fingers back when he snapped at them. "Figures. Of all the milk toast dogs in camp, I get stuck with a man eater."

The truck rocked when Johan slammed his door shut.

"Guten tag, Johan!" Schultz called. "It's nice to see you again."

"Guten tag, Sergeant."His voice quivered. Uh, oh. Don't tell me he's cracking up over a guy like Schultz.

Schultz's tone turned sad."Have you come for poor Dietrich? We've been worried about him. He hasn't been very well these past few days, you know."

"Yes, Sergeant," the kid babbled. "My uncle will take good care of him."

"And how is Herr Schnitzer?"

The truck started up. "Oh, he's fine. Very busy with his dogs. I should get back to help him. Goodbye, Sergeant."

The engine roared over Schultz's reply and we jerked forward. Dietrich fell on me as we swung around and I almost hit the floor when we stopped suddenly. We must be at the gates.

I tried to brace myself while waiting for him to accelerate. It didn't matter. I still fell on my face when he floored it.

Dietrich whined and pawed at the floor. "Yeah," I muttered. "I hope he knows what he's doing too."

"You sure it's this way?" I hissed, leaping over tree roots and bush to keep up with Johan, who looked every bit an Olympic athlete. He'd started running after we hid the truck in the woods a couple hundred yards away. He wasn't even sweating, while I, on the other hand, was about to have a heart attack.

"Yes, yes." He pointed. "It's not far now." He whirled around when the brush beside us rattled. "Did you hear that?"

I clenched my jaw. "It's only a sparrow." Like it was the last seven times you heard it. Johan bolted when an owl hooted. "Wait," I wheezed, struggling to keep up. Great. I'll get lost if he gets too far ahead of me.

I didn't have to worry; I found him waiting by the barn a few yards away.

"No one else is here," Johan murmured as I doubled over, coughing up every cigarette I smoked since I was 12. I'd quit if I didn't like them so much. "Help me open the door."

I groaned, but pushed on the count of drei. The door crept open a few feet before we stopped and went in. "Good," Johan said once we closed it, making it dark inside. "Now all we have to do is hide until Colonel Hogan gets here. Do you have a match?"

I flicked on my lighter and looked around. "There's a hay loft to your right."

He rubbed his hands together. "Let's go."

I snapped off the lighter and followed him up the loft ladder. "So, how do you know Colonel Hogan?"

"I met him when Uncle Oskar got sick once. He was supposed to smuggle prisoners out of camp, so he sent me in his place. I was so nervous, I thought I was going to faint. Thank goodness I don't frighten so easily anymore."

My eyes widened. You're kidding. This is the improved Johan?

"I convinced the guards to let Colonel Hogan come with me so he could help me get through the checkpoints before our rendezvous." He leapt from the last step into the hay. "It turned out I didn't need him. A good friend of mine, Major Hochstetter, was at the only checkpoint on our route."

My blood turned to ice. I suddenly wished I had a gun. "You know that guy?"

Johan covered himself. "I went to school with him."

I snorted. "You think I'm stupid? There's no way you could've. You're about my age while he's got to be twice as old."

He laughed. "We're really the same age. I've always looked years younger than I am. I suppose I have a fountain of youth in my blood. Wolfie, however, made friends with very bad people. I think they made him do horrible things that aged him. He hardly looks like the same person I knew in school."

I joined him in the hay, which smelled like mildew. "Good. For a minute, I thought you were one of them."

Johan shook his head. "I could never be in the Gestapo. I don't have enough courage for it." He studied a piece of straw between his fingers. "I think that's why I want to do this; to prove to everyone I'm not a coward."

I smiled. "You can't be a complete coward. Sneaking me out of camp took a lot of guts." Even if you're scared of Schultz and owls.

Johan grinned back. "You think so? I'm glad." He looked down. "What made you come here with me?"

"Besides you kidnapping me?" I shrugged. "I guess I want to prove I can do more than people think too."

Johan nodded and silence fell between us. My stomach twisted as each second ticked by. This is worse than waiting for a mission back in England. I don't know how the guys can stand waiting like this all the time.

When I was ready to scream from the tension, four guys with lanterns and a brunette with killer curves under her trench coat arrived. Colonel Hogan, LeBeau and Kroeber joined them a few minutes later.

"Pardon me," the Colonel said. "But could you tell us the way to Berlin?"

The tall one with a grizzly beard pointed. "Take the bus to Dusseldorf and turn right."

The Colonel smiled and shook his hand. "Evening, Franz."

"Good evening Papa Bear. Have you brought our package?"

He nodded. "Handle it with care. The Nazis would kill to get their hands on it."

The brunette, who reminded me of Katherine Hepburn, stepped forward. "They won't. I'll see to it personally."

The Colonel turned to Kroeber. "Well, Herr Doktor, this is it. Be sure to…."

My nervous energy burst from me as I leapt off the loft and tackled the traitor, who grunted when I landed on him. "Alright, Kroeber, tell them the truth!"

The Colonel, LeBeau and the woman tried to wrestle me away as I put the guy in a headlock. "Smith!" my commander snapped. "How did you get here? Do you realize how much trouble we had to go to cover for you at roll call?"

"I'm trying to save you!" I growled. "This man is working for Major Hochstetter!"

"Let him go, Smith and that's an order!"

I sagged and let them pull me away as my adrenaline stopped pumping. Kroeber gasped and collapsed in the dirt.

The Colonel pinned me against himself. "He's not working for the Gestapo; he's a valuable scientist. London wants us to help him defect. Now, how did you know about tonight?"

I glared at the German, now surrounded by the Underground. "I heard him and Hochstetter talking outside Klink's office. He said he told that goon all about tonight. He even offered to help him!"

"Of course I did," Kroeber rasped. "I had to do something when he confronted me about it. That's why I included a message saying we'd been compromised in the papers confirming who I was. Those were the ones your friend Newkirk took from me."

"I laughed. "You believe that, Colonel?"

"I do." He patted my shoulder. "It's complicated, Smith. Just trust us to sort it out."

I jerked out of his grip. "No, Colonel, I'm tried of being treated like a little kid. I want know what's going on!"

He sighed. "Alright, We went ahead with the rendezvous to find out who sold us out to Hochstetter. And I think I know who. Fraulien..."

My jaw dropped when Katherine Hepburn whipped out a gun and put it to the Colonel's throat. "Alright, nobody move or Papa Bear dies."

Franz gasped. "Greta..."

She eased Colonel Hogan forward. "Major Hochstetter's waiting for us a few kilometers away."

The Colonel frowned at Kroeber. "You were supposed to drug him before we left!"

She laughed. "The Major only pretended to be asleep. He's too smart to fall for such a trick."

My gaze flicked up to the loft where I saw Johan watching. She's only a few feet away from him. I walked toward her, my heart pounding. "Look, honey..."

She backed up. "Stay away or I'll kill him."

I felt sick, but I made my lips move anyway. "Why? He's trying to save your country."

She spat. "You Americans think you're so special because of Babe Ruth and Errol Flynn. You have no idea how much inferior races are holding you back." She took a few more steps back. "We're the ones you should be helping! We're the ones trying to save you!"

"Now!" I screamed. Greta looked up in time to see 190 pounds of lean muscle slam into her. Colonel Hogan scrambled away as Johan and she wrestled for the gun in her grip.

I recoiled when it fired. "Johan!" I cried, running over as blood spread across his shirt.

He rose and studied the stains on his hands. "It isn't mine," he whispered. "She pulled the trigger."

I held my breath. Greta lay still, her empty eyes gazing toward the darkness until the end.

Colonel Hogan patted Johan's shoulder. "You saved my life. Thank you."

The German nodded, zipping up his jacket and putting on gloves. "We have to get out of here. Follow me."

"So that's what happened?" the Colonel asked while we rode in the back of the truck.

I hung my head. "Yes sir."

He scowled. "I should have you court-martialed for leaving camp without orders."

I nodded. "I wouldn't blame you, sir, and for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. I'd rather spend the rest of the war hiding prisoners at roll call than doing this spy stuff." I licked my lips. "But I'll understand if you want me to go."

He smiled. "I thought you might say that. Alright, Smith, I'll give you one more chance. But I'm keeping an eye on you. If you ever do anything like this again…"

I raised my hand. "I swear I won't. I just have one question, though. How did you know it was her?"

He shrugged. "It was a lucky guess. I knew something wasn't right about her, but I wasn't sure until she pulled a gun on me." He frowned. "We're slowing down."

"Are we in town already?" LeBeau asked.

The Colonel shook his head. "Uh oh. I hear boots."

Banging sounded outside. "Open the back of this truck now!" Hochstetter shouted.

"Wolfie!" Johan cried. "How nice to see you again. Why haven't you called? We have so much to catch up on. Have you heard from Jürgen Rauch or Meinrad Kloepping lately?"

"Bah!" the Kraut screamed. "Go, go!"

Colonel Hogan snorted, then chuckled as we sped away. Soon, LeBeau, the underground, Kroeber and I joined him. Mission accomplished.