After they passed the gates and went around the corner, Marya stopped and let Newkirk out. Thanks," he said. "Wow. You look different." Marya now wore a sleek black outfit of snug sweater, pants and rugged boots, having tossed off her fur.

"I have appropriate attire," Marya said. "You drive. You know the land better."

"Gotcha."

Although a bit clumsy with his still injured arm, Newkirk drove fairly easily. "Why did you not tell Underground you think Hogan was dead?" Marya asked.

"We did. Immediately. Just like we got word to you. What make you think he's Hogan?"

"He is Hogan! He looks like Hogan, talks like Hogan, even smells like Hogan. It is Hogan!"

"Marya, I buried Colonel Hogan. It's not Hogan."

"Bah. You will see."

"You can shoot, right?"

"I am Russian! Of course I can shoot!"

"Right. Guess we better see what's waiting for us."

The rendezvous place sat snug in a small valley, surrounded by rugged hills and one bumpy road. Newkirk stopped the car a distance away, opened his bag and handed Marya a HDM. "They have silencers."

"Thank you. And for you." She handed Newkirk an odd rifle. "MP 44. The Germans make them. I think it is only fair that they see how well they work. They are not quiet but they shoot a lot."

"Sturmgewehr 44s?"

"Da. We liberate as many as we can."

Newkirk nodded, placing the gun in the bag. "Spare the Hogan double," he said.

"Of course!"

"Any other Kraut is fair game."

Marya smiled chillingly. "I love the way you think."

"Let's try to be a bit careful."

"So what first?"

"We'll mine the road first. Block off any way those vehicles can leave. Then we sneak in and pick off Gestapo, one by one."

"All right. You will be OK?"

"I'm fine, just a bit slower than you."

They moved off as quietly as they could. Newkirk set up several delayed bombs (Thank you, Andrew!) and then the two headed into the brush. Newkirk watched his new partner melt into the shrubbery and shook his head. Marya carefully stayed several meters away, always nearby, watching everything. He scanned the area, quickly seeing the Gestapo trucks (two) and a car. Numerous soldiers hid in the bushes around. Newkirk hastily counted them, biting his lip as he spotted Hochstetter. Twelve, thirteen. Great. Why aren't the others shooting? Don't they know what's going on? The Jerries don't seem too ruddy worried.

Marya ghosted up beside him. "If I attack the group," she murmured, patting the MP 44. "You can pick off the stragglers quietly, no?"

"They'll focus in on us."

"I'll go there." She pointed at a spot behind a thick spray of trees. "You go other way."

Newkirk thought about her plan and nodded. While he was pretty well healed, he still wasn't 100%. Marya slipped off and he edged silently to the best position he could find. He awkwardly pulled the gun out of the bag and waited. The chattering of the MP 44 made him half lunge. It rattled viciously and the soldiers seemed to explode into pieces. Newkirk shook himself and started to shoot.

Losing the sight in his left eye had disconcerted him originally. With stealthy practice, he had adjusted to the change in depth perception. In compensation, however, he listened far more than he ever had before and honestly, the MP 44 was loud. Newkirk picked off several running soldiers then moved towards the barn. What are they doing? Can't believe no one is helping us! Oh, don't let the others be dead! Marya flickered into his sight, sliding around the barn. Newkirk quickly fired at a still moving soldier then slowly began shooting every German soldier he could see, downed or up. This is ruddy charming. But they have to be taken care of. The ground rocked and he knew the bombs had detonated, destroying the road. He worked methodically, following Marya's route. He placed a round in every soldier's head and constantly kept looking around for more. He found it hard to believe he and Marya had gotten all of them. Yet the violence of the assault rifle was hard to beat. She's actually wounded a lot more than she killed. He paused only once when he came to Major Hochstetter. The diminutive man clenched a stomach wound, writhing frantically as the smell of blood and ruptured bowel filled the air. "Hello, Major," Newkirk softly said. "Fancy finding you here."

Hochstetter looked up at him. "Englander," he growled. "I was right."

"About what?"

"Hogan led an entire group of saboteurs!"

"But you can't tell anybody, can you?" Newkirk grinned. He pushed Hochstetter with his booted foot, listened to him yowl in pain. "I've been waiting a bloody long time for this."

"You will be drawn and quartered!"

"I don't think so."

Afterwards, Newkirk stared at the corpse. I should feel better, vindicated. And part of me does. Yet, this still isn't enough.

"Are you coming?" a husky voice whispered. Marya peered at him from inside the barn door. "Hurry."

Newkirk quickly scanned for other Krauts and slid inside.

The barn smelled faintly of hay and former occupants of the four legged kind. People, all armed, pointed guns at them. "It's ok," Cole said. Newkirk scanned the crowd, quickly noting LeBeau, and Carter seemed all right as well. Marya stood with her arms entwined around the Hogan double, much to the annoyance of TIger. Newkirk looked at his CO.

"Gotta run, all of us. The Jerries won't wait."

"What happened?"

Newkirk gave Cole a blank look then quickly mentioned Marya's visit and how he and Marya had come to stop the Gestapo. "But this is Papa Bear," Tiger exclaimed. Newkirk sighed at Marya's smirk.

"We need to go," he repeated.

"Will you be all right?" Cole asked. Newkirk nodded. "Everyone go. Don't return home unless you know it's safe. Did we hear bombs?"

"The road," Newkirk said. "To stop any trucks from leaving. Our car is on the other side."

A wiry woman, barely taller than LeBeau, with close cropped black hair and hard brown eyes, snapped a sentence in Russian to Marya. Marya nodded, let the Hogan double go. "Baba Yaga is right. We have our information and must go. But she wishes to know if we know the traitor."

Newkirk nodded. Tiger looked at him with a frown. "I will go with you," she murmured as people scattered. "To tell you what I know."

"It's me, Newkirk."

For the first time since they entered the barn, Newkirk looked at the Hogan doppelganger. His heart gave a painful squeeze but he had known this would happen. Hogan is dead. "You're nothing but a cheap copy," he muttered.

"Let's go," Cole ordered. "We'll straighten this out later."

Back outside, Newkirk found Carter beside him as Cole hastily inspected the bodies. "Your knee?"

"It'll be fine , mate. Where were you when we started shooting?"

"Everyone decided to wait until the shooting was over. We watched Ho--, um, you know, he could be him, Newkirk."

"No, it isn't." Carter fell silent.

Cole gestured and the men left, Tiger and Marya following.

At Marya's car, Marya slid behind the wheel. "I can take Hogan," she purred. "And my small one."

"Oui," LeBeau said eagerly.

"Later, Casanova," Cole said. "Newkirk, go back with Marya. Have Kinch be on alert."

"Already done."

Newkirk let Marya drive this time. As they neared the gates, she stopped and Newkirk got out. He headed for the trunk and slowly made his way down the ladder. Kinch waited for him. "What happened?"

"We got there in time. The others should be here soon. They have that ruddy look alike too."

"Wow. Gestapo?"

"Dead."

"Hochstetter?" Kinch watched Newkirk closely.

"Uber dead."

"You ok?"

"Me knee hurts a bit as does my head."

"I have coffee and tea."

For the first time that night, Newkirk's lips relaxed into a smile. "You are a blessing, Kinch, old man. How are you?" He poured a cup of tea and sipped slowly.

"Better now. So what's going on?"

Newkirk quickly filled him in. They both looked up as the ladder rattled. The others came down, the Hogan clone between Carter and Tiger. Cole dusted his hands, nodded to Kinch. "Everything all right?"

"Nerve racking but all right. What are we doing, sir?"

"Holding tight." Cole glanced at 'Hogan'. "You remember your former CO?"

Kinch gazed at the man. "It's good," he said.

"Hi, Kinch, it's me."

Kinch frowned and his shoulders tensed. "Sounds like him."

"Colonel Hogan is dead," Newkirk snapped. "Do we have to go through this again?"

"It is Robert," Tiger said. "Believe me, I know!" She laid a hand on 'Hogan's' shoulder. "The Gestapo had him. He came to me after he escaped. We contacted London, they told him to work with the Underground instead of returning here, for a little while at least. I asked him questions, tested him."

Cole glanced at LeBeau then Newkirk. "You men know him best."

"Hogan's dead. This man is fake," Newkirk snapped.

"I can tell you about growing up in Connecticut," the man said. "Serving in the Air Corps. I can tell you about coming here after being shot down and some of our missions. Like the Gonkulator."

Eyes widened and Newkirk carefully sipped his tea. The others all quickly looked at him and he shrugged. "Tell us about going to Paris."

'Hogan' looked briefly confused, glanced at Tiger. "He does not remember everything," Tiger defended. "The Gestapo hurt him."

"Well that's ruddy convenient," Newkirk snorted. "What's the name of Carter's mouse?"

Again the man looked confused. "Jack? Look, guys, I'm sorry I don't know everything. I remember certain things."

"Roll call in 15!" came a yell.

"Damn," Cole growled. He looked at Tiger. "Will you guard him, Tiger? This isn't Hogan, no matter what you think."

"I'll watch him until you come back down."

"Major, I'm Colonel Hogan."

"Sorry, Colonel. We'll ship you to London, let them bother with you."

The men scrambled into the barracks and prepared for roll call.