I stood near Perseus, watching the pony pull at his hay. His ears flicked constantly and suddenly he lifted his head. looking at the door. I could hear feet outside, boots thudding on the cobblestones and stairs. Doors slammed and I winced at the sound of distant screams. None came from Peter or Philippe-I knew their voices and these voices sounded feminine. I rubbed Perseus' head and walked to the barn door.

It swung open as two soldiers burst in. Perseus snorted loudly and I looked at the men. "Halt! Get outside, faggot!

I blinked for a moment. An American? What the hell? "I'm a cigarette?" I asked.

Both soldiers looked at each other. "Raus!" the other soldier snapped. "Outside with the others."

"As you wish." I walked towards them. The taller of the pair, the American, a blond with piercing dark eyes, grabbed my arm. "Easy."

"Shut up, pervert."

"General pervert, Sergeant," I snapped.

Both men stopped, exchanging looks of puzzlement and confusion. "What are you talking about?" the other, a corporal, asked in accented English. A German and an American? Curious.

"I'm General Hogan of the US Army Air Force. I'm here on Red Cross inspection duties. Is there a problem?"

Their faces turned the color of curdled milk. "Do you have papers?" the American Nazi asked.

"Yes," I said, pulling out my papers. "Who is your commander, Sergeant?"

"Major Dietrich," the Sergeant replied, flipping through my papers. He handed them back to me and saluted. "I am sorry, General. May I ask why you are here?"

"No. I will talk to your commander, Sergeant. Corporal, leave the pony alone."

The corporal moved away from Perseus. I strode past the sergeant. In the murky darkness, I spotted numerous lights and the shrieks echoed far more loudly. Wails and curses filled the air and I stopped as I spotted a woman being dragged by her hair. "Stop that!" I yelled. The corporal ran past me, pulled the woman to her feet. She straightened up and I recognized Bess. She stared at me blankly then stared daggers at the man who'd been dragging her.

The sergeant gestured. "This way," he said. I followed him around a corner and inhaled despite myself.

Row after row of naked men and women stood facing a score of German soldiers, many holding snarling dogs. The night certainly wasn't warm-I wore a heavy overcoat and still felt the damp. To imagine being stood on wet cobbles made my feet ache. An imposing Major strolled among the rows, tapping people occasionally with a riding crop. Klink flashed into my mind for a second or two until the Major slashed a woman across her breasts.

I scanned the rows as the Sergeant ran to the Major. A glimpse of shaggy dark hair and I spied Peter, staring straight ahead, eyes glittering. My heart sank yet unlike so many others, he didn't seem embarrassed by his nakedness, rather enraged. I noted several men being shoved on a truck. I didn't see Philippe. I looked up as the Major appeared in front of me. "General?"

I nodded. "I'm General Hogan."

The blue eyes opened a tiny bit and the Major saluted. "General Hogan, an honor. I did not expect you here. I am Major Dietrich."

"I am here to investigate everything, Major. What is this?"

"We are rounding up some of the rabble. Nothing to worry about."

"To go where? And why are they unclothed?"

"Any pregnant women are taken to hospital. And the others-just some testing." Dietrich shrugged.

"You have a lot of trucks," I commented.

"Just a precaution."

"Carry on then. I will, however, want the list."

Dietrich's left eye twitched. "List, sir?"

"I want all the names. Every man, every woman. And an explanation of how each woman became pregnant."

"General?"

"They are lesbians, Major. Why would they be pregnant? They don't have sex with men. Not willingly at least. The Ghetto male residents are interested in men. So who are the fathers?"

Dietrich, to his credit, looked confused. "Yes, General. A list."

"Before you go. And I want to know where each person goes, so I may check on them later." I felt gazes on me, heard shifting and rustlings.

Now the Major actually flinched. "Perhaps we should simply forget this," Dietrich said. "We need not bother with this test."

"I understand. Perhaps another position would suit you, Major. There are opening in the German Embassy in New York..."

"That sounds very intriguing, General. Sergeant Klaus, release the men and women."

"Herr Major, the Gestapo..."

"Will understand," Dietrich snapped. "Now!"

The soldiers slowly unloaded the Ghetto residents. "Perhaps you should dismiss the others," I suggested. "And then, Major, I would be delighted if you joined me for lunch today."

"An honor, herr General!"

"Be there at 1200 hours."

"Of course, herr General! Dismissed!"

I watched the Ghetto residents scatter, grabbing their clothes and disappearing. Major Dietrich saluted me and the Nazis began retreating. I waited until the last truck rolled away, breathing slowly.

"Who are you?"

I turned to look into Bess's face. Behind her ranged several Ghetto residents, many still dressing or pulling on shoes. "I am General Hogan," I said.

"But..."

"He's who he says he is." I felt my shoulders sag. Peter. Newkirk came up beside me. "We shouldn't be out in the open. Come on."

I glanced around. "Pick officers," I muttered and Newkirk stared. Then he nodded. I headed down the street, wondering exactly where I should go.

"This way," came a voice. From the darkness, Philippe waved a hand. I grinned. A group of about seven followed me. Philippe led the way to his bakery

I sat down at the table in the bakery, the aroma of baking bread making my mouth water. "When did you start the bread?" Bess asked.

"Before the word came of the culling."

"And who are you mate?"

I looked into the face of a lean man eyeing me. He had blue eyes and sandy hair and a measuring suspicion that reminded me of Peter. "I'm exactly who I said I am," I replied. "General Robert Hogan, US Army Air Corps. Red Cross liason." I smiled sunnily. "And Peter's lover."

The stranger jerked and Peter's voice drifted over. "That's Rob." He strolled over. "This is Gilroy." He began introducing the others. "Rob, meet Bess, Gilroy, Jack, Gregory, Lisa, Zack, and James."

"You're a Yank General and what do you want with us?" Gilroy looked at me then Newkirk.

I smiled. "I want to set us all free."

The silence gave me time to look at all the faces. "Let's start from the beginning," Lisa said, a hard faced woman with broad shoulders and cropped brown hair. A jagged scar bisected one cheek.

"I'm General Hogan," I said. "I came here for Newkirk. I want to take all of us out of here."

"You're a poof?" Gilroy asked, sitting down.

I rolled my sleeve up. "I am," I said, internally twinging. I did like women. But I liked men as well. And Peter...I didn't know what to call this but he meant the world to me. I felt him move closer to me.

"Well, what do you know mates?" Jack laughed. "Even a bloody Yank General likes English dick."

I felt my neck flush and heard a hiss from Peter. "Relax, mes amis. Mon General is right." Philippe placed mugs of coffee in everyone's hands. "He has a plan. And we will have a chance to escape."

"Sounds risky," Zack grunted. He was the only somewhat heavy set man I'd seen in the Ghetto. His dark gaze raked me. "Now what?"

"It is risky," I said. "Some of us will die." I stared at every person. "This is going to be hard. But we can at least be free. And not end up in those trucks."

They all looked at each other. Gilroy looked at me, then at Peter. "This is your bloody Rob," he said.

"Yes."

Gilroy shrugged. "I'm in," he said.