It was never easy to steal… that is, borrow… a vehicle from the motor pool, especially at night, and especially when anyone but Schultz was on duty. The guards got jumpier after dark, and a jumpy guard could do some serious damage to anything or anyone that spooked him. But Hogan, as usual, had a cure for that.

Kinch made a quick trip outside the wire that afternoon to pull even more vital components out from under the hood of Holtzmann's Mercedes sedan, making it necessary for the hapless motor pool mechanic to lug a lot more heavy parts and equipment the half-mile down the road to the disabled car. After a bit of provocation from Newkirk and Carter, standing nearby taunting Klaus for the heavy load he labored under and loudly making bets with one another that he wouldn't dare take Klink's motorcycle with sidecar to make his work easier, Klaus did just exactly that. And once Klaus was well underneath Holtzmann's car trying to repair it, Kinch was more than happy to disable the motorbike as well when he wasn't looking. So it was a very unhappy Klaus who trudged back to the camp at dusk without having managed to put either vehicle back in service, but now the motorbike was right where Hogan wanted it, and Kinch easily popped back in all the parts it needed to get back on the road.

"Fingers crossed for no bed checks before we get back," Hogan said as he straightened the small black moustache that added to his disguise as a Nazi captain.

LeBeau stood at his side, already dressed as a German private and unquestionably eager to get up the ladder to the tunnel opening and then on the road to town. "I can't wait to see her again," he said with enthusiasm.

"Colonel, why him?" Newkirk couldn't resist asking.

"She wants to see me!" LeBeau replied, apparently never having considered that there could be any other reason.

"He fits in the sidecar," Hogan corrected.

"D'accord, but she also wants to see me!"

"Keep it up and I'll go alone." Hogan checked his sidearm. "Okay, this is it. LeBeau, got the camera?"

He patted his breast pocket. "Oui, Colonel… Carter's smallest one. Perfect for photographing documents."

"Film?"

He nodded "Don't worry, I checked it right after Carter gave it to me."

"Thanks a lot, pal," Carter put in, sounding peeved.

"Carter, a little double-checking never hurt anybody," the colonel reminded him. "Okay, fellas, this is it. Let's hope that nutty Russian does something to make it easier for us for once."

oo 0 oo

Hogan didn't really think that would be the case, which was what made it all the more surprising when he went to knock on the door of Room 209 an hour later and discovered that it was not only unlocked, but ajar. "You see?" LeBeau was quick to point out in a stage whisper. "She has always been on our side; I know."

Hogan motioned for quiet, and listened for any sounds inside the suite that would give him a clue what might be going on. There were no voices, and he could see that one small lamp was lit… so they weren't asleep yet. There was a sound, though, from well inside… probably behind a second door. "Water running," he reported to LeBeau. "She said Holtzmann only lets go of the case when he's taking a bath."

"So that means we can go in, take the pictures and leave before he notices anything wrong."

"Maybe. I never bet on anything when she's concerned."

Hogan was bold enough, though, to push the door open far enough to get a good look into the suite. If Holtzmann happened to be right there, he had an excuse and profound apology at the ready for entering the wrong room by mistake. But there was no one in sight. The sound of running water was louder now, obviously coming from the adjoining bathroom. Well… he'd come too far to back out now. Hogan moved swiftly and silently toward the bathroom door and edged it open just a couple of inches.

There was someone bathing in the clawfoot tub… Marya, up to her neck in bubbles. She gave him her wiley-cat smile, but for once she kept her mouth shut… that was something. And it was also very necessary, because on the other side of the room, that had to be Holtzmann behind the opaque curtain standing under the running water in the small corner shower stall. Hogan had no time to stand on ceremony or even to be the slightest bit embarrassed at the intrusion; he mouthed the words where's the case? and the Russian pouted for only a moment at his lack of enthusiasm for her state of undress before pointing towards the bedroom and gesturing to suggest the opening of a drawer. Hogan signaled to her that he understood, and withdrew immediately, pulling the bathroom door shut.

"It's in the dresser," he relayed to LeBeau.

"How do you know?"

It went without saying that there was no chance Hogan would tell him what he'd just seen in the bathroom… all he needed right now was a swooning, overcome-with-passion Frenchman on his hands. "Just start opening drawers."

The briefcase was there, exactly as Marya had said. The plans were even inside… would wonders never cease? This was too easy. LeBeau had just photographed the first two pages of the plans and glanced up at the colonel to tell him it was going very well, when his eyes got saucer-wide at something directly behind Hogan and he pulled in a loud gasp of shock.

Okay… so which one of the two people Hogan didn't want to be standing in the bathroom doorway was standing in the bathroom doorway? He was afraid to look, but he turned around anyway.

Wrapped in a fluffy white towel, bare from her shoulders up and her knees down, Marya was just closing the door of the bathroom, leaving Holtzmann to his hot shower and, embarrassingly, also to sing the first few desperately off-key stanzas of Deutschland Uber Alles. The man was no singer. But that was the least of their problems at the moment. "This may be a ridiculous question," Hogan began, "but why don't you get back in there and stall Holtzmann to give us time to take the pictures and get out before he catches us in the act?"

She shrugged casually. "I thought you would want to know, we are not staying here at the hotel tonight. Gussie is now determined to return to his factory; Schultz will be driving us there within the hour."

"Great… just what we don't need." It would sure help his game if the players in this crazy chess match would stop skipping around the board without any rhyme or reason to their movements. But no more pictures were being taken anyway; LeBeau had received such a shock at the sight of the half-nude object of his adoration that he was just standing there, allowing his eyes to repeatedly roam up and down every inch of her. In a moment he would probably remember he had a camera and start using it… on exactly the wrong thing. They didn't have enough film for that. "Why's he so eager to get back to the factory?"

She flung her hands in the air. "Who knows? But you have contacted London to send bombers to destroy the factory, yes? "

He nodded grimly. "Yeah, and they're on their way. Even if I could stop them at this point it'd be a wasted trip, and there's always the chance that some of those planes might not come back."

"Exactly as I was thinking. So, you must come up with a plan to keep Gussie from returning to his factory tonight so he does not explode along with it before we are finished with him."

"Why me? Don't you ever do anything except take bubble baths?"

LeBeau finally found his voice. "I don't mind…" he breathed.

Hogan glared at him. "Will you dry up?"

"As it happens, I do have a plan for you, Hogan darling. Gussie will not want to return to his factory unless he has three things: the formula… this…" She displayed the large diamond on her wet, soapy hand. "This is prototype, one of a kind… the largest he has manufactured so far. He will not leave without it."

"So what's the third thing?"

She struck a dramatic pose… thankfully, the knot in the front of her towel held… and smiled broadly. "You are looking at it."

"Come on… I heard the way he talks to you; he couldn't care less if you're with him or not."

"To a degree that is quite true. But to the degree that he knows how much I know about his work… I do not think he will risk it."

She might have a point there. Hogan hated that, but it happened every so often. The woman was a lot of things, but 'stupid' wasn't one of them. There was a very active, very cunning mind behind that smug smile. Cool as ice in any situation; he'd never seen her get so much as flustered. In a way, he had to admire her. And in that same way, he wanted to kick himself around the block for admitting it, even to himself.

"So your plan is…?"

"I go with you back to Stalag 13, of course."

Oh, brother. Was there anything he'd enjoy less? "For your information, the two of us came here in a motorcycle and sidecar… how do you suggest the three of us get back to camp?"

Her eyebrows arched suggestively. "Closely. Very closely."

oo 0 oo

In a switch from the way he and LeBeau had arrived in Hammelburg, Hogan changed places with him and took the sidecar, letting LeBeau drive, and then Marya now wearing her fur coat on over her bath towel enthusiastically hopped into his lap for the return trip. He didn't like it much, but he liked it a little better than the idea of her and LeBeau canoodling all the way back to camp. Under those conditions, he didn't trust his corporal any farther than he could throw him. Having the fur-clad Russian in his lap was a little like holding a large, moody Persian cat, and Hogan had never cared much for cats. They could be purring one moment and have their claws out the next. Just like Marya.

"Ready, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

Hogan nodded without much enthusiasm. "Let's just hope we don't hit any checkpoints, because I have no idea how I'd explain this."