LeBeau raced past Carter, telling him to join Hogan. He spiralled out from the barn, scanning for tracks or trails. He looked hurriedly but thoroughly, seeking any sign of his friend. He spotted two men slinking towards the barn and hastily scanned them. Please be Monsieur Drake's men. He scanned the woods.

Sharp eyed or not, it took LeBeau 10 minutes to find a few strands of black hair and bark. He paused, looked around, then, compelled, looked up. In the thick branches of clustered evergreens, he thought he spotted a shadow. He warbled the signal. Needles trickled down. "Pierre?" he whispered.

A figure clambered down, shaking violently. LeBeau cursed and yanked off his jacket. "Here," he whispered. Newkirk shivered as LeBeau wrapped him in the jacket. LeBeau ground his teeth. Newkirk's tied together shirt didn't hide the bruises, in fact barely covered Newkirk's breasts. LeBeau noted raw spots on each side of Newkirk's mouth from a gag, a bruise on his cheek, and even the dim light couldn't hide large dark streaks encircling his throat. Blood painted Newkirk in huge splotches. "Come on," LeBeau whispered.

"Cold," Newkirk stammered.

"I know," LeBeau whispered. He guided Newkirk towards the barn. Newkirk stumbled, shaking, and stopped when he saw the barn. Carter hurried their way.

"Gosh, it's good to see you two!" He gazed at Newkirk and LeBeau watched a horrified comprehension cross his face. Carter's face became hard, aging him years.

"Get his jacket, " LeBeau said. "And mon Colonel." Carter nodded and returned with both, Drake and his remaining men behind Hogan. Newkirk jerked, pulling out a Luger.

"It's all right!" Hogan exclaimed.

"Disgusting swine!" LeBeau glared at Drake. He broke into a profanity of French while Hogan looked Newkirk over. Carter handed Newkirk the General's jacket and Newkirk slowly holstered his gun. As he took off LeBeau's jacket, Hogan scanned Newkirk and grabbed Drake by the throat.

"This better not be what it looks like."

"You never said anything about sending a woman."

"Get in the truck," Hogan growled. "LeBeau, you have to drive. Newkirk, you need to be the General in case we get stopped." He grasped Newkirk's shoulder. "Are you ready?" Newkirk nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Right as rain, mate." Newkirk's voice shook slightly. He shook himself, straightened under Hogan's hand. "Just bleeding cold."

"She's British?" one of Drake's men muttered.

Hogan stopped Carter with a look and LeBeau with a hand. "At camp," he ordered. They headed for the truck. Hogan felt his stomach knot as he climbed in the back with Drake and his men. Carter stared at the three, face expressionless. The truck started. LeBeau tried to keep an eye on his friend while he drove. As they neared Stalag 13, Newkirk reached back and slapped the truck flap twice. The truck slowed and the men leaped out of the back.

In the tunnel, Hogan ignored Kinch and whirled on Drake. "Start explaining, Drake."

"You sent a woman?!"

"I sent one of my people, all who risk their lives daily! What the hell happened?!"

"We captured a General. When we discovered she was a woman, things changed."

"How?" Hogan snapped.

"We thought she was German," one of Drake's men said. Louvier, Hogan recalled.

"Did you ask?" Carter demanded. His eyes glittered.

"You sent a German woman to resistance fighters," Bonard growled.

"She isn't German," Carter said hotly. "And if she was, what would it matter?"

"What is going on?" Kinch asked.

"She killed four of my men!" Drake glared at Hogan. "Four heroes gone!"

"Mon Colonel?"

Hogan turned to see LeBeau and Newkirk standing in the tunnel. The bright light showed the lurid bruise on Newkirk's cheek and Carter clenched his fists. Kinch inhaled. Black and purple bruises encircled Newkirk's neck. Hogan gingerly touched Newkirk, aligned his fingers along Newkirk's bruises as if proving to himself how Newkirk acquired the bruises. Newkirk watched Drake, shivering slightly under Hogan's fingertips. "Get Wilson," Hogan grated. He touched the raw corners of Newkirk's mouth. "Kinch?"

Carter left and Kinch stepped forward. "Yes, sir?"

"Get London on the radio. Tell them Drake needs to be gone in two nights. I want him out of here ASAP. If he's not out in a week, I'll hand him to the Germans myself." Kinch nodded. Hogan turned to Drake. "Touch my men again and I'll kill you."

"You sent a woman and never told me." Drake began pacing. "How was I supposed to know she was yours?"

"How did you find out?" Hogan asked as Wilson appeared with Carter.

"His men tackled me. One happened to sit on my waist." Newkirk frowned. "That's when he discovered I was a woman." He flinched as Wilson touched his throat.

"Come with me," Wilson said. Newkirk sighed and Hogan jerked his head. Newkirk walked off and Hogan turned to Drake, Bonard, and Louvier.

"You were in charge," he said in a low tone. "You allowed your men to attack, to rape a woman you didn't even know."

"No one raped her," Drake snarled. "They never got a chance."

"Because she defended herself."

"Do you think I cared about some Nazi bitch? The Germans sweep through cities and take any woman they wish.. Now you send a woman in German attire and expect my men to respect her?"

"Yes!" Hogan's growl terrified more than an angry bellow. "We're supposed to be the good guys, remember?!"
 "My men have been fighting for over a year!"

"And mine have been here longer. If any of them treated a woman like yours did, I'd shoot them myself!"

"We wouldn't!" Carter blurted.

"We are not animals," LeBeau said. "I am ashamed that you are French!"

"The Germans are raping our women!" Bonard stated.

"She is not one of them," LeBeau hotly said.

"Colonel Hogan," Wilson interrupted. "She's all right." He glowered at Drake. "I'd like to give you a full report in private, sir."

"Fine. Drake, Louvier, Bonard, there are bunks here. Someone will bring you food in the morning. Carter, LeBeau, clean up and get ready for roll call."

"Yes, sir," Carter said. "Come on, LeBeau."

They left. Hogan followed Wilson to where Newkirk tied his boots. Hogan glanced at Newkirk. "Peter?" he asked, a world of questions in his voice.

"I'm all right, gov." Newkirk looked Hogan in the eyes. Hogan studied him, felt a small knot in his stomach untie at the steadiness there. Newkirk wore a turtleneck and makeup to cover the bruise on his face.

"You sure?"

Newkirk snorted. "I'm sure." He exhaled. "I did 'ear some of the ruckus. I killed three of the men, sir, but not four." He trembled. "That's why I was bloody. From killing them One man was shot. That was Keats. One of the men I killed--someone named Voltaire--he killed Keats. Because Keats was going to stop him and the others."

"I'm so sorry, Newkirk."

"It wasn't your fault, gov. None of this was your fault. You 'ave nothing to be sorry for. I just have some bruises."

Hogan nodded. "Go upstairs," he softly said. "Grab some rest." He looked at his watch. "Or at least, get some coffee."

Newkirk walked away and Hogan looked at Wilson. "Is she all right?"

"He's all right. He's bruised but avoided major damage and frostbite. His throat is swollen and that's the main worry." Wilson inhaled. "She also avoided being raped."

"OK. I need to get someone to watch our 'guests'." Hogan frowned. "I guess my command crew is out."

"I would appreciate being off that list, too. No offense, sir. I don't think I can be polite."

"All right." Hogan rubbed his head. "I need some coffee, too."

He and Wilson went upstairs where LeBeau had coffee brewing. Newkirk sat at the table with Carter, sipping a mug. The lanky American sat close, protectively looking around. Hogan amusedly wondered just how long Newkirk would allow the others to fuss over and protect him. He mentally bet himself that Newkirk wouldn't last eight hours with LeBeau and Carter breathing down his neck. Kinch, at least, would be the same. He poured himself some coffee and sat down. "So now what?" Kinch asked.

"We need to get that factory. We'll have to try again."

"The papers can be remade, gov. Just have to change the dates."

"And the road will be repaired," Carter said.

"We'll wait a night. Newkirk, ice your throat. LeBeau, after roll call, have Parker get some breakfast for our guests. Olson and Jackson need to watch them."

"I am not cooking for them," LeBeau growled.

"Go to the katine," Hogan said. He rubbed his head. "Kinch, tonight I'll take the radio. I need to place some calls."

"Yes, sir."

"Newkirk, you are ordered to keep away from Drake and his men."

"What did I do?" Newkirk exclaimed.

"Newkirk, you did nothing wrong but I am not letting you near Drake. You'd kill him before he got to England." Hogan held up a hand as Newkirk bristled. "Does he deserve it, yes." Hogan's voice tightened. "That's why none of us are going near Drake unless we have to. I'll approve anyone going near them. You guys--and me--can't let our emotions rule us."

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau reluctantly said.

"Yes, sir," Carter muttered. Kinch nodded. Eyes turned to Newkirk. Newkirk rolled his shoulders in a semi-affrimative shrug.

It wasn't as easy as Hogan thought. His command crew tried to ignore Drake but still had work in the tunnels. Hogan, LeBeau. and Kinch were planning the factory job, standing by the stove, when Carter stormed by them. "Carter?" Hogan blurted.

"Fine, sir." Carter slammed the barracks door as he left. The men all exchanged looks. Newkirk came up the tunnel and LeBeau looked at him.

"What's with Carter?" he asked.

"He's just a little upset. He talked to Drake. Just talked, gov'nor, and nothing happened."

"So why is he upset?" Hogan demanded.

Newkirk shrugged. "Drake mentioned something to him about whom I was having a go with."

Hogan choked, LeBeau dropped a pot, and Kinch nearly fell off his chair. "What?!"

"Easy, Colonel," Newkirk said with a smile. "It's not a big deal. Drake was just trying to get Carter's goat."

"He thinks you're sleeping with Carter?" LeBeau blurted.

"No, not Carter," Newkirk said. He poured a cup of coffee.

"Then who?" Kinch demanded. "The Colonel?"

"Not exactly," Newkirk hedged. Hogan studied his corporal.

"Who?" he asked. Newkirk looked at him with innocent eyes.

"All of you," he said.

LeBeau coughed and Kinch blinked. Hogan sat down. "Care to explain?" he asked. "Just why does Drake think you're, ah, involved with anyone much less all of us?"

Newkirk sat down, sipped his coffee. "Probably because I insinuated it."

"Why?" LeBeau blurted.

"He was making comments about me being someone's woman, wondered who I was with and how his men wouldn't have tried what they did had they known. So I basically said I could be shagging the lot of you and that wouldn't change what he did. He asked if I was." Newkirk shrugged. "It wasn't any of his business."

Hogan and his men stared at him. Newkirk drank his coffee, smiling. "Why would you say such a thing?" Kinch sputtered.

"Because it doesn't matter. Who cares if I am sleeping with all of you?"

"Maybe we do," LeBeau blurted. "Newkirk, it's not true!"

"And you know it. I know it. Why does it matter?"

Hogan sighed in vexation. Newkirk winked and left. Hogan rubbed his head. "Isn't that just great?" he muttered.

"All of us," Kinch said. "God. What if Drake believes it?"

"He'd think she has a lot of stamina," LeBeau murmured. Both Kinch and Hogan stared at him. "What?"

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