"You mean after all the work we've already done, now you want us to make him a field marshal?"

Hogan met Newkirk's indignant outburst with a look of mild enquiry, belied by the gleam in his eye. "That's right, Newkirk," he said calmly. "And Irma's got to look like an eleven-year old boy. Preferably by tomorrow morning. That's not too soon, is it?"

"But, please, Colonel," Zauner put in, "I don't understand. What purpose does it serve for me to be disguised as a field marshal?"

Hogan glanced at Irma, who gazed back with a slight tilt to her head, and her eyebrows just starting to draw in. "It's the best way to get you out of here in a hurry," he explained. "We can't wait for the emergency tunnel to be safe to use, that could take several days. And unfortunately, while you've all been working down here, the situation's gotten a little more complicated. Some people turned up who we could have done without."

"Colonel Jäger," murmured LeBeau. Irma's eyes widened, and she moved closer to her grandfather, clutching his arm with nervous fingers.

"I'm afraid so," said Hogan. "Also Major Hochstetter, of the Gestapo. But don't worry, I've already worked out how to get them both out of our hair for a few hours. Or rather, let's say, how to persuade them to get each other out of the way." He kept his eyes on Irma as he finished. She was the weak point in the scheme he'd worked out; if she took fright now, it would make things much harder. He wasn't surprised to see she had turned pale, and had pressed her lips tightly together to stop them from trembling.

"Can you do that?" Zauner stared at him, dazed.

"I think we can pull it off. While neither of them is exactly on our side, they're still not playing for the same team. They're both more concerned with making sure the other doesn't find you than with finding you themselves. So all we have to do is convince each of them you're somewhere else, and hint that the other's already on his way there."

"And that will send both of them off in pursuit of each other," LeBeau finished up.

"Exactly." Hogan relaxed into a smile.

"But why the field marshal's uniform?" Newkirk asked, still slightly peevish. "We can do it, all right - we've already got one, as a matter of fact - but how's it going to help?"

"Newkirk, you're not thinking," replied Hogan. "Just because Hochstetter and Jäger are out of the picture, doesn't mean our friends can just stroll out the front gate. We still have to get them past Klink and the guards. Now, if Dr. Zauner and his granddaughter suddenly turn up in the middle of camp, some awkward questions are going to be asked. But Field Marshal von Kremmer is a different matter. If he should happen to be on his way to Paris with his family, and if he should be passing very close to the toughest POW camp in all of Germany - well, of course he's going to stop for a quick look, right?"

Zauner rubbed a hand across his forehead. "His family?"

"Yes, his daughter and son-in-law. You remember Major Dietrich, Irma?"

"Yes, I remember," whispered Irma. "He was nice." The memory seemed to reassure her, although after a momentary pause, she added, "I didn't like her."

"That's okay. Unfortunately Frau Dietrich can't make it, so we're going to ask Gisela Stadler from the hotel in Heiligen to stand in for her," replied Hogan.

"I'm sure she'll be delighted to take the place of Dietrich's wife," observed Newkirk dryly; then coloured slightly as LeBeau gave him a warning cough. He went on quickly: "But hang on a minute, Colonel. How's Irma fit into this?"

"She'll fit in just fine," replied Hogan, with perfect confidence. "With the right clothes, of course. And a haircut. A very short haircut. You'll go along with that, right, Irma?"

Her free hand reached up to clutch at the long plait falling down her back, and her chin quivered. "I don't want to," she faltered.

"Maybe not, but it's got to be done," said Hogan. "I don't think it's likely Jäger has told Klink he's looking for you, but I can't rule it out, so I want to play it safe. For everyone's sake, not just yours. You understand that."

"Ja," she murmured uncertainly. "But..."

"So you're going to have to pretend to be a boy." Hogan smiled at the look of disgust on her face. "Yeah, I know, it's a nasty job, but someone has to do it."

She giggled, though it was very wobbly, and Hogan's smile grew warmer. "Good girl."

Then he turned his head, as Kinch appeared at the entrance. "It's all set up, Colonel," he said. "Otto knows what's needed, and he'll clue up Dietrich when he gets there. He'll keep them there overnight, and send them to Stalag 13 tomorrow, about mid-morning. And he'll make sure they look the part - he'll supply some empty luggage to go on top of the car, and a dressy travelling outfit for the lady."

"Nothing too tasteful, I hope. Frau Dietrich has a very individual style," murmured Hogan, eliciting another chuckle from Irma.

Carter was just behind Kinch. He didn't say anything, but going by the look he gave Hogan, something was going on above ground. Without any change in expression, Hogan stood up.

"Okay, you all know what to do?" he said. "We don't have a lot of time, so let's get moving. Kinch, you come with me."

He drew Carter along with him as he left. "What's up? Did Jäger leave camp?"

"No," replied Carter. "He came out and said something to his driver, then he and Klink went towards the VIP quarters. But the driver went off, and the other SS guys were in the car with him."

"Which way did they go?" asked Hogan, already sure in his mind of the answer. "Not to Hammelburg, right?"

"Right, Colonel. They turned out of the gate the other way."

"Towards Heiligen." Hogan's mouth tightened. "Just as I thought. What about Jäger?"

"Well, just when I was going to come down and tell you, Schultz came in looking for someone to clean up the VIP hut," said Carter. "Jäger's staying here tonight - for security reasons, according to Schultz. I told him we were all too busy to help out, he asked what we were doing, then said Wait, don't tell me, and went off to get some guys from Barracks 3 to do it instead. And serves him right, too," he went on. "Those fellers never sweep right in the corners. You should see what it's like under the bunks in there. Honest, you could grow potatoes..."

"Carter." As always, Hogan didn't need to raise his voice; Carter fell silent on the word.

"Sounds like we called Dietrich just in time, Colonel," Kinch remarked. "You think he'll get her out before they get there?"

"Let's hope so, Kinch," said Hogan.

For the rest of the day nobody took so much as a ten-minute break. The tailors had the most work to do, even though they had a field marshal's uniform available. The only thing missing was the topcoat.

"It belonged to Field Marshall Richter, you know," explained Newkirk, as he checked the fit of the tunic. "Oh, yes, we had him through here, and all. Brilliant plan of the colonel's, actually. We fooled the Gestapo by putting his overcoat on a dummy, and sitting the dummy behind the wheel of his car."

"And then his car got blown up," added LeBeau.

Newkirk shook his head, and tutted. "You wonder how accidents like that happen, sometimes. At any rate, if I just take off the braid from the shoulders and stitch it onto another topcoat, nobody'll know the difference. How's those short trousers coming along, Louis?"

LeBeau held up the pair of knee-length pants he had just finished hemming. "Not bad, for an hour's work. And the blouse you made for her will do as well for a boy as a girl. So once we finish the jacket, and if we can find shoes small enough..."

"Carter's taking care of that," said Newkirk. "He's checking every barracks. Don't like his chances, though. Almost all the men wear boots. And even if he found a decent pair of lace-ups, they'd be miles too big."

But he'd underestimated Carter's resourcefulness. The right shoes had already been found.

Hogan was working on another aspect of the scheme. He strolled across to the VIP hut, where three of the prisoners from Barracks 3 were dawdling through a superficial cleaning under Schultz's eye.

"How's it going, Schultz?" Hogan stood next to the sergeant, watching the work in progress.

Schultz gave him a sideways glance, brimming with suspicion. "Please, Colonel Hogan, not today," he grumbled. "You already put me into enough trouble for one war. Now I have Major Hochstetter on one side, and Colonel Jäger on another, and I don't even want to think about where I will end up if either of them finds out what I was actually doing in Heiligen. Or what you were doing there..." Schultz closed his eyes, and shuddered.

"You know what, Schultz? You're absolutely right," conceded Hogan, after a moment of deep thought. "We behaved very, very badly that night, and we've put you in a really awkward situation. And it's up to us to put it right."

Schultz gave voice to the familiar high-pitched whine of frustration which so often greeted Hogan's offers of assistance. "Colonel Hogan, if you want to help me, then please, I beg of you, don't try to help me."

"Oh, come on, Schultz," Hogan protested. "When have I ever let you down? Look, I've got it all worked out. All you have to do is keep Hochstetter out of the way while we get rid of Jäger."

Schultz grunted. "And just how do you propose to get rid of Colonel Jäger?"

"Well..." Hogan began; but Schultz interrupted him.

"No, don't tell me. This all started because someone told me something. From now on I don't want to be told anything." He sighed, watching listlessly as Evans ran a duster over the mantelpiece, without moving the clock.

There was a moment of silence, then Schultz sniggered. "That's funny. I thought you just said...oh, no, that would be ridiculous."

"What is, Schultz?"

"I thought you just said I had to keep Hochstetter out of the way."

"I did say that," Hogan replied cheerfully. "Oops, steady there, Schultz. Get him a chair, someone."

It took a minute or so for Schultz to get his breath back. Hamilton went to fetch him a glass of water, while Evans stood by, fanning him with the duster.

"Colonel Hogan, you should not make jokes like that," mumbled Schultz eventually.

"It's not a joke, Schultz," replied Hogan; and this time Hamilton had to find the brandy.

It took some time to talk Schultz round; but there was one thing Hogan could always rely on.

"Okay, Schultz, have it your way," he said at last. "But sooner or later, unless we get Jäger out of here, the whole story's going to come out. Gee, I bet Klink's not going to be happy when he finds out you took me and Kinch to Heiligen with you, and then fell asleep at the hotel, leaving us to get up to whatever kind of no good we wanted."

"Oh, boy!" muttered Schultz.

"Tell me, Schultz," Hogan went on, "who are you more scared of, Major Hochstetter, or the Soviet 7th Army?"

Schultz sighed. "Can I have a moment to think about it?"

Ten minutes later, having won cooperation of a sort, Hogan returned to the barracks, where Kinch was waiting for him. "I've just had a radio message, Colonel," he said. "Dietrich and Mrs Stadler have arrived safely in Hammelburg."

Hogan took a deep breath. "That's a relief. How's it going down below?"

"Pretty well finished. You won't know Irma when you see her," replied Kinch, with a grin.

"That'll be in the next few minutes." Hogan returned the grin. "Get everyone up here, will you, Kinch?"

Kinch didn't need to ask why; he went on the word. Before long the whole team was assembled; a subdued excitement rippled through the barracks as the men picked up on Hogan's air of satisfaction.

"Okay, listen up," he said. "Our visitors will be leaving us tomorrow. By this time next week, they should be in England."

He glanced at Irma, who was snuggled close to her grandfather; very red about the eyes, and clearly self-conscious about the short crop she had been given. But she met the twinkle in his eye with a little smile.

He looked around at his men. Whatever the plan was, they were ready. It was time to spell it out.

"But first, we have to get them out of Stalag 13," he said. "And here's how we're going to do it."

Note: Field Marshal Richter's uniform: from "The Defector" (Season 5)