Scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, Veidt trudged through the snow, huddled in on himself. The only light was that of a waxing moon. He found himself looking over his shoulders anxiously, fearful Kaschel was following him to figure out what he was doing. Thankfully, Kaschel hadn't suspected anything was out of sorts the previous morning. He was focused more on assisting the Gestapo in finding Lechner. When no leads cropped up, Veidt knew it was only a matter of time before Kaschel lost his patience.

I have to find Lechner before then, Veidt thought. When he spotted a line of trees, he broke into a jog, though the jog was no faster than a quick-paced walk with the deep snow. He paused once when he saw a figure standing among the trees, then moved closer. Relief flooded him when he saw it was Colonel Hogan. He stopped in front of the American, smiling. "Good evening, Colonel."

Hogan gave him a much smaller smile. "Everything checks out, Veidt. You are who you say you are."

"Does… Does that mean you trust me?" Veidt braced himself for a "no."

"Maybe. You would be the first SS traitor we've ever worked with, and trust me when I say I never expected to have that when I came here. You will still be kept at a slight distance, and if Lechner decides he wants to go with you, we will be sending someone with you to make sure you are actually taking him to Stalag VII C."

Veidt nodded. "I will do everything in my power to cooperate. Wait… did you say… 'if Lechner decides—'"

"We have Lechner."

"Is he alright?"

"He is fine. He wants to go to England. He has no idea about your plan yet, and I think this should be left up to him."

Veidt nodded. "Of course. Will you tell him? I imagine you will not allow me to see him."

"I will tell him."

Veidt was afraid asking too many questions would make him seem suspicious, although he did want to know where Lechner was. "We need to get Kaschel off Lechner's trail. He has had the Gestapo—"

"We are aware of the Gestapo's involvement. Who have they questioned so far?"

"I do not know. Their agents are stationed in high-traffic areas. Stores, restaurants, hotels. As of tonight, they have not found any leads."

"Well, we are going to give them a lead." A much more genuine and mischievous grin crossed Hogan's face.

"Oh? And how are we doing that?"

"You will find out in the morning."

Veidt remained confused about that on his walk back to Hammelburg, and he wondered if that was deliberate. I don't think Colonel Hogan will ever trust me fully. I cannot say I blame him… but that does not make it hurt any less.

He returned to his hotel room, taking a quick hot shower before pouring a cup of tea to settle down for the rest of the night. He knew he was taking a huge risk, given what Hochstetter told him. Then again, Veidt wasn't sure how much of what Hochstetter told him was true, but he was afraid of being made out into a fool.

His thoughts ran wild as he sipped his tea. He had enough on his mind without the idea of being made to look like an idiot, and he wasn't sure just what that would do to him. The vile ghosts of his past taunted him plenty. Voices in his nightmares jeered at him over his flaws. Being gullible in the past was one of them. He didn't want it coming back.

I cannot force anyone to trust me, Veidt thought. I have to show them I can be trusted.

A deer was running blindly through a blizzard, dodging trees and roots jutting from the ground. It had a destination in mind, but what was it?

"Carter," a voice hissed.

Muscles tensing, Carter opened his eyes, his dream fading into the recesses of his brain. Hogan was looking at him, still dressed in his heavy winter coat. "What is it, Colonel?"

"Lechner wants you," Hogan replied.

"Is he okay?" Carter sat up in his bunk.

"He still looks pretty bad. I think he just wants company, though."

"Alright." Carter left his bunk, disappearing into the tunnels below. He was still rubbing sleep from his eyes when he went into Lechner's room. "Hey, buddy," he said. "The colonel said you wanted me."

Lechner nodded. "You did not have to come if you wanted to sleep."

"It's not a problem. I can nap during the day. Plus, it wouldn't be the first time I've stayed up all night." Carter next to the cot. "How are you doing?"

"I am alright, mostly, but I cannot sleep." Lechner looked away from Carter, ashamed. "I should not have requested you just for your presence alone."

A pang of sympathy echoed in Carter's chest. "You don't need to feel bad over that. I know how you feel. When I was sick as a kid, I always wanted company. Sometimes, I wasn't sure why I did, but the feeling of someone being there, giving their time, helped me feel better."

"Thank you for putting my thoughts into words, and for understanding."

Carter smiled. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of something to talk about. "Whenever you had downtime in your old unit, what did you do with them?"

"Many things. We played football—I believe your people call it soccer—we went hiking together, we talked about home. One of the men I served with—his name was Jürgen—was an illustrator for children's books before he was conscripted. He had pages upon pages of sketches and finished work that he showed us." Lechner's smile faded. "I… I initially hoped I would be able to return his work to his family when I recovered. I hope someone has."

"He died in that explosion?"

Lechner nodded. "He was the first." He gripped his blanket tightly, staring up at the ceiling, memories flashing in his eyes. "The bomb was set up with a tripwire, and he… he was the one who walked through the wire."

Carter was quiet, thinking back to how many bombs he had made over the last several months since coming to Stalag 13. He had blown up plenty of bridges with no people on them, but he had blown up several factories and buildings that had a lot of people in them. How many people like Jürgen had he killed? He imagined a lot. He had never personally witnessed the faces of the men he likely killed, and he didn't think he ever could. If he did, even just once, he wondered if he would be able to continue working as part of Hogan's team. "I'm… so sorry, Lechner."

"You do not have to be sorry," Lechner replied.

"Well… you know I'm the guy who makes bombs for my team. That's what I was doing when you followed me."

"I was aware of that."

"And you don't… you don't hate me over it?"

"No. How will that help us heal when the war is over? That, and I have already seen you are a good man, Carter."

A weak smile crossed Carter's face. "Thanks. I just… I hate to think that I've probably killed guys like your friend."

"Do you take pleasure in it?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"You do it because it is necessary to help your people win the war."

Carter nodded.

"I understand that, and I understand that was probably what was running through the mind of the person who planted that bomb in my barracks." Lechner folded his hands over his stomach, continuing to look up at the ceiling. "Forgiveness is probably one of the hardest things anyone can do, whether it is forgiving others, or, harder yet, forgiving yourself. At least, I have always found that to be particularly difficult."

"I can't say I disagree. It is hard. There are a few people in my past who… I should offer forgiveness to. Unfortunately, some of them are gone and now I'll never be able to do that."

"You can still forgive them in your heart. I understand it is not the same, but it is better than carrying it around for the rest of your life." Lechner turned on his side to face Carter. "That is just my opinion, though. I do not want to pressure you into something you aren't ready for."

"It's alright. I get what you're trying to say." Carter looked over his shoulder out into the tunnel. He had been in the tunnels at night before, but only now was he realizing just how quiet it was. "Do you feel like you can sleep?"

"I am going to try," Lechner replied. "I will miss you when we must part ways."

"We'll see each other after the war. I mean, where I come from, there's not much to see or do, but it would be nice for you to visit."

"I would like to do that someday." Lechner smiled, settling down under his blanket. "I think I will be alright until morning. Good night, Carter."

"Good night, Lechner." Carter gave Lechner's shoulder a friendly squeeze before standing, and disappearing into the dark, quiet tunnel to return to the barracks.

"You look exhausted, Veidt. Is everything alright?"

Veidt bit his lip, looking down at the table when Kaschel sat across from him. "Everything's fine," he replied. "I was out late talking with a Gestapo agent. He said there have been whisperings of a potential lead on Lechner, but they need to confirm it first."

"Finally, some good news." Kaschel added a dash of cream to his coffee. "I am pleased with you taking initiative on this mission. I know things have not gone the way we hoped, but at least you are giving it your best effort."

"I am just doing my job, Standartenführer."

"And you are doing your job well. I am very proud. When I first met you last year, I was prepared to dismiss you as a bit too meek and better suited for desk work, but the last few days have proved me wrong."

Veidt absentmindedly stirred a spoonful of sugar in his own coffee. You are playing your role well if he is saying that. Do not think too much about it. He glanced at his untouched breakfast, his appetite vanishing. Am I playing it a little too well? I have not really done much of anything. What could I possibly be doing that makes him think I am doing my job well? I am purposefully stalling. I only talked to the Gestapo so I can pass the information to Colonel Hogan. Oh, but it is a clever ruse, Kurt. No one will ever suspect you are actually a traitor. Take pride in that—No! I cannot take pride in anything! I am doing something wrong!

When his hands started shaking, Veidt set his mug down, and stood up. "I… I am not feeling well." He quickly walked back upstairs to his room. Once he was alone, he drew in several deep breaths. "I said, do not think too much about it!" he said aloud to himself. "It is alright. You are playing your part. You must do this in order to help Lechner. You are not putting him or anyone else in danger…" Veidt sat on his bed, which he had never bothered to make earlier. I will not be able to pull this off. The Underground is never going to trust me, and it is my fault for this! He winced, holding his head. All at once, his thoughts spiraled out of control. For a moment, he had no idea who he was. His body racked with sobs.

I should never have undertaken this alone. I should have had someone else from the League accompany me. Maybe I should not have volunteered at all, and let someone else do it. Everyone else has their own assignments, though. I was the only one who has all the resources I could ever need at my disposal. I have to save this man's life, after having destroyed so many. Veidt looked down at his lap, bracing himself for another wave of deprecation. When it didn't come, he took in one more deep breath, and let it out. The last tears rolled down his cheeks, and the violent seas inside him finally calmed. The clouds in his mind parted. Just keep going. This will be over soon.

"Veidt?" Kaschel knocked on the door. "Are you alright?"

"Um… yes, I-I am alright," Veidt replied, finding his bearings. "D-Do you need something, sir?" He opened the door.

"The Hammelburg Gestapo director came and said he could not get ahold of me by phone. We do indeed have a lead. A restaurant owner down the street."

"That's good."

"And one other thing. I asked one of the hotel staff to see if everything was alright with my phone, and guess what she found—" Kaschel's eyes narrowed. "The wires were cut."

"What?"

"Come see for yourself." Kaschel led Veidt into his room, crouching to hold up the severed wires tucked behind the small table the phone was set on. "I cannot think of a reason why someone would do this, unless they know we are here and why."

"We were warned about saboteurs in this area. I cannot say I am surprised they caught our scent."

"This is either a general attack or they know about our subject. I will personally interrogate everyone in this town if that is what it takes to get some answers."

Veidt nodded, nerves beginning to knot inside.

"Are you positive you are alright? You have been behaving strangely since we arrived, and it has me worried."

Make up something fast! "I might be coming down with something, sir."

Kaschel gave him a sympathetic look. "Would you like me to get you anything from the pharmacy? A day of rest might do you some good."

"I will be alright, sir—"

"I do not want this getting worse. Are you still nervous about our mission?"

"Well, yes. Much more so now that we are aware saboteurs might be after us."

"It is worrisome for me as well."

"Perhaps it would be best for us to stay together for now."

Kaschel shook his head. "No. If the Underground decides to plant a bomb somewhere, it would be best if only one of us were to get it. It will make us harder to get rid of. I will allow you to accompany me to the restaurant to hear what the owner has to say. We will be out of here before you know it."

Veidt nodded a little. "I certainly hope so, sir."

LeBeau ladled a spoonful of hot chicken broth into a cup, which Carter was holding in his gloved hands. "Be careful and try not to spill that when you bring that to Lechner," LeBeau said.

"I'll try," Carter replied. "Thanks for making this for him."

"No problem."

Before Carter could descend the ladder into the tunnels, Hogan appeared in the doorway to his room. "Carter, are you going to see Lechner?"

"Yes, Colonel," Carter replied.

"I've got something I need to discuss with him."

Carter didn't ask any questions as he and Hogan went down in the tunnels to see Lechner. The young German was asleep, but his eyes opened when the two Americans entered the room. Slowly, he sat up. "What is it?"

"First off, how are you feeling?" Hogan asked.

"Same as yesterday, but everything in my head and neck feels swollen."

"LeBeau made chicken broth for you," Carter said. "Hope it helps."

"Tell him I said 'thank you.'" Lechner gently took the cup. "Is there something you two need?"

Hogan grabbed a chair to sit across from Lechner. "Two nights ago, I met with a member of the magic resistance group who was sent to find you. He's an SS Sorcery Division officer who was recruited by the League of Sorcerers and uses his position in the SS to spy for them. His mission is to bring you to a prisoner-of-war camp near the city of Augsburg, where you can work as a guard and be protected, because this camp has a lot of magic people employed there. I know you said you want to go to England, but now you have another choice."

"Do you trust this officer?"

"Not fully. If you decide to go with him, Carter volunteered to accompany you to make sure that's actually where you're going."

Lechner sipped his broth, then nodded. "So, I have a choice on where I want to go?"

"Yes. I just don't know if choosing to go with an SS officer is a good idea."

Lechner thought for a moment, looking down into his cup. "A camp with other magic people would be nice. I would not have to hide."

"There is still the risk of the Sorcery Division finding out."

"But you said I would be protected there."

"That's if Veidt is telling the truth."

"Then I would like to meet him and talk with him myself."

Hogan folded his arms over his chest, frowning. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Even though you're sick right now?"

"You could bring him here."

"Let me think about it." Hogan stood, leaving Lechner and Carter alone together.

Lechner looked down at his lap, a disheartened expression coming over his face. "He won't allow it, will he?"

"I think he might," Carter replied. "Only so you don't try to run away again."

"Right now, I cannot run, or even produce ice, so none of you have to worry about me running away. If I were well, I would say that we can meet this Veidt fellow in a more neutral place."

"The colonel does have a good reason to not trust this guy. He is a part of the group that hurt you."

"That is why I want to meet him. I want to judge him myself. Honestly, it makes sense that someone within the Sorcery Division said something to the League, because they were very tight-lipped about my whereabouts. Even I didn't know where I was until I escaped."

"That does make sense. Still… we've had a lot of close calls in the past."

"I understand."

"We'll figure this out, okay? If I know Hogan, he'll do his best to respect you, but you have to respect him as well."

After Lechner finished his broth, Carter brought the cup back up to the barracks, where he found Hogan putting a note in an envelope. "Carter, would you mind asking Lechner something?" he said.

"Sure. What is it?" Carter replied.

"Ask him if he knows how to get a raven to deliver a letter."

Nodding, Carter went into the tunnels once again. Lechner lifted his head from his pillow, looking a bit confused until Carter said, "Hey, the colonel wants to know how you get a raven to deliver a letter."

"Only witches do that. Technically, I am not a witch," Lechner replied.

"Veidt sent us a letter by raven the first time. It's the only way we can contact him."

Lechner sighed. "Leave food out. Ravens are scavengers and will eat almost anything."

"Right. Thanks, buddy." Carter jogged out, swiftly climbing the ladder and going right to Hogan's room. "Lechner's not sure of the details, but he did suggest leaving food out."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea. Remember the pigeon problem we had this past spring? Do we want them coming back?" Hogan raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we made peace with the pigeons."

"We made a temporary truce at best."

"We can leave out something pigeons generally don't eat. Ravens are scavengers, right?"

Hogan nodded. "We can set some scraps by the window and see what happens."

Several hours passed by with no sign of anything coming to take the potato peel and stale bread left outside Hogan's window. Carter went outside every so often to check, with the envelope and the ribbon in his pocket just in case he did happen upon a raven. He was beginning to think they would have to contact Veidt a different way when he made his way around the barracks again and saw a large, black bird picking at the peel. Grinning, Carter quietly approached the raven, holding out his hand and offering another piece of bread.

The raven tilted its head and watched intently as Carter walked toward it. They were much bigger than he initially thought, and certainly bigger than the crows back home. There was something intimidating about the huge bird. Carter kept walking, whispering to it, "Hey, there, buddy. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just want to give you something."

His body tensed when he saw movement in the corner of his eye, and the blue-gray uniform of one of the guards. Turning, Carter saw Corporal Kielholz strolling over, and paused to look at him.

"Feeding the ravens, Carter?" Kielholz asked.

"Uh… yeah. Just, you know, felt like making some friends."

Kielholz grinned. "Making friends with ravens can be quite rewarding. My father showed me how when I was younger—do not tease it. Give it the bread."

Carter hadn't realized the raven was trying to grab the bread in his hands. "Oops. Sorry." He let the bird take the bread.

"It will not be instantaneous friendship," Kielholz explained. "Do this regularly, and they will come to associate you with good things."

Carter nodded, watching the raven pick apart the bread. "Hey, did you know witches use ravens to deliver mail?"

Kielholz's smile faded. "I did know that. Why?"

"Just something I remember reading about. It'd be cool if we could do that."

"I suppose so."

"I wonder how they do it."

Kielholz was quiet for a moment. "They enchant ribbons that they tie around the bodies of the birds along with the mail. In witch villages, you can buy these ribbons already enchanted, almost like stamps."

"Do the ribbons have to be enchanted for each delivery?"

"No. The enchantment is, as far as I remember, a means of taming the raven or crow or whichever corvid you want to use. You tell them where or who you want the letter delivered to, and then they deliver it with no issue."

"Does it necessarily have to be a corvid?"

"The ribbons are cut specifically to fit the bodies of the corvid family. Apparently, other birds were tried in the past, but the corvids won out. Owls were once tested, but someone pointed out that it would be a bit too strange for the non-magical people to see owls in the daytime."

"That's interesting. How did you know all that?"

"I… lived near a witch village."

"There were witches near where I lived, too. They were the dangerous kind, though."

"Did you come from a rural area?"

"Yeah, in North Dakota."

"The, ah, less friendly witches do tend to live in remote areas. I cannot say I am surprised you had to deal with them."

"I mean, we knew they were there, but I never saw them. I just remember being told not to go into the woods alone or be out too late, especially on full moon nights. I guess you lived near nicer ones?"

Kielholz nodded. "Not all witches are bad. Most just want to be left alone, and they will leave you alone in return."

"I can understand that." Carter glanced at the raven on the windowsill. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Kielholz."

"Nice talking to you as well, Carter. Before I forget, I have Christmas presents for you and the rest of Barracks Two. I know this will be your first Christmas here—it will be mine, too—but I want to make it the best I can, so, just to give you and the others something to be excited about." Kielholz grinned and winked before walking away.

Carter waited until Kielholz had left before taking the ribbon and envelope out of his pocket, nervously glancing around in case anyone else was watching. The raven looked at him as he carefully looped the ribbon around the bird's sleek body. "Okay. Take this to Kurt Veidt. He's at a hotel in Hammelburg." Carter crossed his fingers, hoping what Kielholz told him was correct.

He smiled when the raven turned to fly off in the direction of Hammelburg, and cheered inwardly as he headed back inside the barracks to tell Hogan.

Relief granted Veidt permission to relax when he, Kaschel, and Hochstetter had gone to talk to the restaurant owner, a Mr. Landauer, and learned that he had overheard someone say that they saw an extremely pale man in a German uniform heading in the direction of an abandoned farmhouse slightly northwest of town. This must be the lead Hogan was telling me about. At least I know Lechner is safe. Then again… Hogan never said where Lechner is. What if he is sheltered in that farmhouse and this is not the lead Hogan told me about?

Anxiety came back again to coil in Veidt's stomach when Hochstetter ordered four agents to go to the farmhouse. He and Kaschel accompanied them there, but relief returned when nothing was found.

Hochstetter cursed as he headed down the snowy path back down to Kaschel and Veidt. "There's no one inside," he said. "Either we are too late, or we are too early."

"Did you find any tracks?" Kaschel asked.

"No."

"Then we are too early. Have men stationed here, and lie in wait for him." Kaschel smiled and turned to Veidt. "Finally. We will have our specimen back and can get on with our lives."

Veidt nodded. "That would be nice, sir."

"I guess all we will have to do now is wait." Kaschel began walking back to his staff car, Veidt in tow. "Feel free to relax when we return to the hotel. Do you drink, Veidt? I was thinking we celebrate tonight."

"Perhaps we should wait. We don't even know if Lechner will show up," Veidt said.

"You make a fair point. Still, this is the best lead we have had this whole trip."

"True. I also do not drink, sir. A little champagne every now and then, but never anything heavy."

"I save it for special occasions, if I may be honest with you, and I believe this is a special occasion."

When they returned to the hotel, Veidt allowed himself to sigh as he entered his room. I was hoping to just have a quiet night to myself, now that I know the Gestapo will be waiting for nothing in that farmhouse.

There was a tapping at the balcony door, and a dark shape perched on the railing. Veidt opened the door to see a raven holding an envelope in its beak and wearing the same ribbon he had sent his previous raven with. The raven stretched its neck to give him the envelope, and Veidt took the ribbon off as well. "Thank you," he said, quietly, watching the raven fly away.

Veidt closed the door, assuming the letter was from one of his friends in Augsburg. He opened it to find something else entirely.

"I told L. about your plan. He says he wants to meet with you first and make his own decision. Come to the same spot we met the last two times tonight at 2200."

This could only be from Hogan, Veidt thought. I wonder how he figured out how to use a raven. Now my challenge is going to be getting out of here without Kaschel noticing.

He tore up the letter and envelope before flushing both down the toilet, then went to his suitcase. Inside a secret compartment were several tiny potion bottles, along with more corvid ribbons. Westheimer had given him the potions just in case they were needed. Most of them were healing potions for Lechner, but some were for more general uses. Veidt picked up a bottle containing a bluish liquid. Attached to it was a label reading, "Sleep Potion—Only a dash or sip is needed. Highly Potent."

Veidt looked at the door, working his jaw as he thought. This will be tricky, but knocking out Kaschel might be the only way I will be able to leave.

Although it was only 2030, Veidt found himself anxiously looking at his watch, knowing he had a long walk ahead of him to get to the forest outside Stalag 13. If he was going to leave the bar, he needed to do so soon.

Kaschel wasn't a heavy drinker, but he permitted himself an extra beer that night when they sat the counter in the hotel's bar. Veidt's heart was pounding as he waited for the perfect opportunity to pour the sleeping potion in Kaschel's mug. He had transferred the potion to a small flask, and kept it hidden in his chest pocket.

"At least we were able to confirm that our subject is still heading northwest," Kaschel said. "I have already alerted the next town's Gestapo about this. As long as the Underground isn't helping him, we have him trapped."

Veidt nodded in agreement. "He has given us quite a headache."

"Indeed. His punishment will be swift, though I cannot afford to kill him. I will break both of his legs when he is returned to a laboratory. That way, he will not be able to run for some time."

Veidt couldn't express his disgust outwardly, so it manifested as a twinge in his stomach. "That might be for the best."

"He has no idea just how important he is," Kaschel continued. "I hope he sees that soon. It would make work much easier." He stood. "If you'll excuse me, I have to use the restroom. Watch my drink."

"Sure." Veidt bit his lip, waiting until Kaschel disappeared into the men's room. The bartender was in the kitchen, getting another box of wine bottles. Veidt glanced around one more time, and once he was sure he was alone and not being watched, he poured a dash of sleep potion in Kaschel's drink. Releasing his breath, he screwed the cap back on the flask, and slid it back in his pocket.

Kaschel came out a couple of minutes later. "Now, where were we?" He sat next to Veidt, picking up his mug.

"We were discussing Lechner's importance to the project," Veidt replied, watching Kaschel drink the rest of the contents in his mug.

"Right. I think we will need to provide some actual results before he can be convinced of it," Kaschel replied. "I know Wahler had several projects in line, but the paperwork on that was destroyed when he was assassinated, so we will have to start from the beginning." Kaschel's voice trailed off, and he suddenly looked exhausted.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

Kaschel looked confused for a moment, then tried to get up from his seat. "I think I may have reached my limit for the night. Suddenly, I… feel as though I need to lie down."

He wasn't very steady. Veidt put one of his arms around his shoulders and helped Kaschel head back up to his room. In his head, Veidt was glad the potion worked as fast as it did, but he also hoped that Kaschel didn't fall asleep while they were walking. Kaschel's pulse was gradually getting slower, and he was leaning more and more heavily into Veidt.

When they made it to Kaschel's room, Veidt gently shook him. "Sir, your key."

"Right… Right… my key." Kaschel groggily fished around his pocket for his room key.

"Do you need help?"

"No, no, Veidt, it is alright… Thank you." Turning the key, Kaschel pushed open the door, stumbling in, only to be caught by Veidt. The two barely made it to the bed when the potion's full effect finally kicked in, and Kaschel collapsed onto his knees. His face was planted in the bed, and his arms were sprawled out in front of him.

Veidt stepped back, watching Kaschel sleep for a moment before muttering to himself, "Well, I got you this far. I am not going to tuck you in." He left, and closed and locked the door behind him.

After putting on his winter gear, Veidt headed out of the hotel, and out of Hammelburg entirely. The night was clear and lit by stars and a moon gradually increasing in size. When he got to the forest, Hogan was already waiting for him, a black cloth in his left hand.

"I got your letter," Veidt said. "Where is Lechner?"

"I'm going to take you to him, but first you need to put this on." Hogan held out the cloth.

"Why?" Veidt gave the cloth a nervous look.

"Because I don't want you to be able to paint an accurate picture of where we are."

Veidt nodded. "Alright. Put it on." He stood still, letting Hogan tie the cloth around his eyes. The feeling of suddenly being blind was unnerving. He could still hear. He could still smell. He could still feel. It's not permanent. Don't panic. You have done enough of that the last few days.

Hogan guided Veidt through the woods by holding his arm and shoulder, and occasionally telling him to turn or step higher to avoid a root or rock in the way. Veidt swallowed, anxiety swelling rapidly in his chest. He could feel his other senses were trying to compensate for his lack of sight, as the world around him sounded much louder, and the wintry air and abundant pines smelled crisper. "Honestly, Colonel Hogan, I hope you are not leading me into a trap," Veidt said.

Without warning, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. A second later, Hogan hissed, "Get down!" before pulling Veidt down into a crouch.

They stayed there for a few long seconds, then Hogan patted Veidt's shoulder. "Don't move until I say so."

Veidt heard Hogan stand, and reached out. His hand touched something rough and cold. Bark. A tree. He moved his hand up, feeling the tree stopping suddenly. A stump.

"Come over to the sound of my voice, Veidt," Hogan whispered.

Nodding, Veidt moved closer, still crouched. Hogan helped him sit on the edge of something round and hollow. "There's a ladder in front of you. Reach out—yes, there it is. Now, pull yourself over to it and feel around with your legs—you got it. Climb on down. I will be right behind you."

It was slow going, but Veidt eventually made it to the bottom of the ladder. His boots touched solid ground, and he groped around for a wall. When he found one, he stayed alongside it, waiting for Hogan's instructions.

"Alright, you can take the blindfold off," Hogan said.

"Oh, thank you." Veidt yanked off the blindfold. He looked around, seeing they were in a dimly lit underground tunnel. For a moment, he wasn't sure whether to feel amazed, or claustrophobic.

Hogan motioned for Veidt to follow him. They went to a small room full of boxes, and a cot. To Veidt's relief, Lechner was lying on the cot. Hogan gently shook Lechner awake. "Hey, I got Veidt here for you."

Lechner stirred under the blankets, and looked up at Hogan and Veidt. Sympathy crushed Veidt's heart when he saw Lechner's red, watery eyes and flush face. He glanced at Hogan. "You did not tell me he was ill. I could have brought something to help."

"Well, now you know."

Veidt took off his cap, making eye contact with Lechner. "Hello. You wanted to speak to me about my mission?"

Lechner nodded.

"I promise, I will actually take you to Stalag VII C. You will be safe there for the rest of the war, and I will make sure the Sorcery Division never finds out you are there. If anything were to happen, there is a plan in place to get you to Switzerland."

"The risk of being found is much higher if I stay in Germany. What would be the benefits of this?"

"You will still be with your own people, and your own culture. I know you lost your parents, and your friends. You would be able to find new friends there."

Silence filled the tunnel. Lechner was staring up at the ceiling for several moments before switching his gaze back to Veidt. "How soon would I be able to go?"

"As soon as you are well. I do not think it would be a good idea to take you on such a long journey while you are sick. Does… Does that mean you have made a decision?"

Lechner shook his head. "Both options are good, but… I do not know which is best for me. Can I think about it for a day?"

"You can." Veidt looked over his shoulder at Hogan. "I can return tomorrow night to hear his answer."

Hogan leaned against the doorway, arms folded over his chest, nodding a little.

"I can also bring medicine. I was given supplies in case he was sick or injured anyway."

"What did you bring?"

"Potions. One dose and he will start feeling better again within twenty-four hours."

"Alright. Same time tomorrow, and yes, I will be blindfolding you again."