Sometimes, it was easy to blur the lines between Underground and Resistance. The Underground operated as a secret and illegal organization against the Nazi regime within the borders of Germany. The Resistance also operated as a secret and illegal organization but did so inside an occupied country. If one was of the mind to quibble over semantics, he or she could certainly do so, but for people like Tiger both groups operated to destroy Hitler and the Nazi Regime. They were separate organizations but occasionally worked together.
Tiger remained in a unique position to move between the two organizations as necessary because of her skills and natural leadership abilities. She was primarily one of the top leaders in the Resistance. Today, she worked with the Underground in capacity as an operative. Germany struggled with safe and reliable production of synthetic fuels, lacking natural resources within its boundaries. Starve the war machine of that precious resource meant sooner liberation for her beloved France.
Despite her discomfort with the cold, Tiger bore it well. The coldest place was a grave. All people ended up in one eventually. What mattered was the journey to the grave. One could simply exist and do nothing except suffer in silence, paralyzed by fear. She knew many chose to do just that. Such a thing was not in her nature. Such people were nearer the grave than she. As she looked to her left, she smiled as Hogan drove the staff car into town.
The plan may or may not work. Tiger killed only when she had to kill. In civilized society, one should not want to kill but the regime was uncivilized. Hundreds of thousands died in the name of the Fuhrer. If a person did not fit the ideal of a perfect race, he or she was subject to termination. She knew the atrocities were just beginning. At least some days she was able to eat knowing that she fought with every ounce of strength she possessed.
Hogan asked, "Is everything alright?"
"Oui," replied Tiger.
Hogan said, "I'm sure you have plenty of bullets just in case."
"All I need is one," said Tiger.
When Hogan laughed, Tiger smiled. It felt a little unfair. Her happiness was not important. To indulge in a pleasant moment seemed unfair to the cause. She was so accustomed to seeing Hogan in uniform that tonight's civilian attire allowed her a small fantasy of after the war. She had several lovers over the years. Hogan was a kindred spirit despite his coming from a different part of the world.
Hogan said, "I don't know how this will turn out. With any luck, we'll live another day to tell the tale."
Tiger said, "They shoot me, you get thirty days in the Cooler."
"Hardly," said Hogan. "This little errand goes way beyond the protections afforded by the Convention. If I'm lucky, they'll mark my grave."
"Maybe they will burn me at the stake and scatter my ashes in the river so no one can claim my bones as relics," said Tiger. The two laughed at the dark joke. She continued, "One day France will breathe free again."
The car rounded the corner and arrived at the hotel. Hogan knew it was time. He did not know what motivated Hahn. Some scientists did it just for the intellectual purposes. Others devoted all time and effort for the cause. A small handful did it with a gun pointed to their heads. As an unscheduled meeting, anything could happen. All he knew was that Hahn appeared to be in town tending to small tasks including shopping, investigating the local library, and casually strolling about the city.
Hogan dare not pass himself off as a scientist. He knew he would not get away with it. Instead, he was going in as a reporter. This would allow him the opportunity to ask plenty of questions without raising concern. Hahn was an enigma, somewhat of a loner, and definitely unmarried. Aside from éclat as a renowned scientist, the public knew little about the man.
Keep calm and everything will be all right. As long as Hogan kept his cool, he could handle anything. Lately, it seemed that he allowed frustration and anger cloud his judgment. With Tiger at his side, he felt confident and reassured. The Underground cells suffered the recent witch-hunts. Hogan hoped the elimination of Melsbach ended it for a while, at least. There was always danger.
Tiger knocked on the hotel door. She believed it made a difference. A lonely man recognized the difference between a man's knock and a woman's knock. The door cracked open just enough to reveal an eye. Hogan noted that the man kept his foot braced at the bottom of the door to prevent, or at the very least slow down anyone attempting to barge into the room.
Hogan asked, "Doctor Wendell Hahn?"
The door closed. Hogan and Tiger looked at each other. They heard the sound of a door chain lock sliding along the ridged groove. The door opened again but this time fully and Hahn urged the two to enter quickly. Once inside, he immediately locked the door and slid the chain back into the secured position.
Hogan said, "You're a cautious man."
"These are troubled times," said Hahn.
Hogan said, "True. We're here to talk."
Hahn sternly asked, "What about England?"
Hogan cautiously answered, "I'm not certain what you're talking about. We're with the Hammelburg Zeitung."
Hahn said, "Ach, they told me you would use some ridiculous story as a false pretense." Hogan and Tiger looked at each other. Hahn continued, "You can either take me to England, arrest me, or leave me alone."
Hogan cautiously said, "I don't believe I've ever met someone begging to go to England."
Tiger calmly said, "We should arrest him and be done with it."
On the inside, Hogan smiled. It was an interesting ploy. Briefly, he thought he noticed a tinge of fear in the man's eyes. The scenario proved too strange for Hogan's liking. He had to make a determination. Finally, he said, "Come along, Fraulein. We won't get our interview today."
The two left the room unchallenged, which greatly bothered Hogan. It proved strange occurrences still plagued his operation. The man was too confrontational for it to be mere coincidence. He and Tiger went down the stairs and exited the hotel. Once in the car, Hogan sat with his hand on the steering wheel but reluctant to start the vehicle.
"That was peculiar," said Tiger.
Hogan said, "Very. I think tonight the Gestapo's going to pay him a little visit."
"Perhaps even sooner," said Tiger as she slightly tilted her head to the right.
Hogan saw Hochstetter accompanied by two goons pass by the staff car. He waited until they entered the hotel before starting the car and casually driving away. He had no idea of knowing if they were already on to Hahn as a possible defector or if they were simply responding to a distress call from the scientist reporting on unexpected visitors. Lingering was not an option.
"We'll have to kill him," said Tiger.
Hogan said, "You're probably right. Even if he does want to defect, which is highly unlikely, he's too much of an authority on synthetic fuels to let live."
War was nasty business. Civilians died. In bombing raids, that was expected. Take out a chemical plant; someone's inside working whether it is a production line worker or security guard. Sometimes a bomb landed off target, hitting a hospital or school. Those things happened. Deliberately targeting a man for assassination was different yet necessary.
Tiger suggested, "Perhaps Colonel Collins?"
"I don't much care for him," said Hogan.
"Nor I," said Tiger. "He is in a position to help. If he arrests Doctor Hahn or tells us he reported us, we can take care of the rest."
Hogan sighed, "I don't know. He operates by his own rules and doesn't care about my orders. I'll contact London."
The last thing Hogan wanted was Tiger considering working with Collins. The man should have returned to England. Ever since the unit landed inside his operational area, strange things happened. If nothing else, the man was bad luck. Hogan remained convinced that Collins was too rogue. When Crittendon interfered, no one died. At least the British officer had seniority; Collins did not. Was he being petty?
Chain of command was important. Admittedly, Hogan did not always honor or respect it. He followed his orders from London nearly all of the time. The Underground did as it had to and rarely came into conflict with what Hogan required. He willingly worked with the Underground because he trusted and respected them. They operated fairly well before his arrival at Stalag 13. Schnitzer belonged to their organization. Countless men rode in and out of camp in the back of the veterinarian's truck.
Reaching a familiar spot along the road, Hogan flashed the car headlights. He saw the response and pulled over to the side. A somber Olsen attired in a Luftwaffe uniform approached. Hogan and Tiger knew the routine. They moved to the rear of the car and crouched beneath a blanket. Olsen drove the car into camp with no difficulty. Once parked in the motor pool, the man waited until it was all clear before ushering out Hogan and Tiger.
Dodging searchlights, Hogan and Tiger made their way to Barracks 2. He tried not to roil in frustration. His team managed the impossible on a regular basis. He would have to try again. Kinchloe had no report. Hogan asked the Underground to see what they might discover. Nothing else to do, Hogan called it a night.
#HH#
Tiger made her way through the tunnels. Briefly, she spoke with Kinchloe. She reassured the sergeant that she would be all right. Danzig needed her and she was ready to do her part. Men doubted her, presuming that she was merely a girl with a pretty face. She always proved them wrong. Even her beloved American colonel trusted her with his life.
Slightly shuddering, Tiger climbed the ladder, exited the tree stump, and started her way through the bitter cold woods. She longed for her beloved Paris. Pépé passed away when she was five years old. It was a simple funeral but she remembered one man removing the black interment cloth and replacing it with a brightly colored flower print cloth.
Tiger could not remember the last time she painted. Pépé understood despair. Maman once told her that Pépé tried to drown himself in the Seine after the death of his first wife. Tiger knew she walked the tightrope. The filthy pigs were murdering her people. She refused to sit quietly. Her death would have at least some meaning – but who would drape her with a flower print cloth?
The Hofbrau was not much further. Tiger reassured herself that Hogan would understand. She wanted to stay at camp but duty guided her course. She did not want to be on the section of highway that lacked any cover but the trees ended where farm fields began. Despite the lack of produce, the fields proved more treacherous with their deep furrows.
The sound of a car stirred Tiger from her thoughts. She needed an excuse as the car predictably slowed and stopped next to her. She filled her heart with rage, knowing that using a broken down car excuse could not work. As the rear passenger window rolled down, her act of rage quickly changed to concern.
Hochstetter said, "Fraulein, these roads are not entirely safe. What are you doing out here?"
Tiger feigned a stiff upper lip and replied, "The roads are much safer than being in that car with that pig pretending to be a soldier!"
Hochstetter laughed, "I see."
Tiger angrily snapped, "There is nothing funny about this!"
Hochstetter sobered his tone and said, "Of course not. Please, get in the car."
As the driver exited and went around to the passenger side of the vehicle, Tiger remained professional, "I can manage. I need to walk off this anger. The Hofbrau is just up the road."
Hochstetter frowned, "You misunderstand, Fraulein. The roads are not safe at this hour of the night. I will look after you."
Tiger sighed, "Forgive me. Perhaps the anger has clouded my judgement."
The driver opened the car door and Hochstetter slid to the other side of back seat. Tiger had no choice. She did not want to arouse Hochstetter's suspicion but riding in a Gestapo staff car proved bad luck. She tried relaxing yet it was difficult.
As the vehicle started down the road, Hochstetter calmly said, "I'm pleased that you chose cooperation, Mademoiselle Monet."
Tiger's jaw dropped, "What are you talking about?"
Hochstetter laughed, "We know you are attempting to rendezvous with Oskar Danzig. Perhaps you even ARE Oskar Danzig! I shall soon find out."
With her greatest use of the saltiest German language ever, Tiger gave Hochstetter a verbal thrashing that caused the hardened Gestapo officer to stare while completely dumbstruck. He trembled slightly, remembering a time when his mother once scolded a stranger for attempting to steal the laundry from the clothesline. Frenchwomen did not speak in such a manner.
When he realized the driver started snickering, Hochstetter cried, "Enough! How dare you talk to the Gestapo like that?" Swatting the driver in the back of his head, he spoke through gritted teeth, "Get me to headquarters NOW!"
The car doubled its speed while Hochstetter hit Tiger. He pulled at her hair to make sure that it was not Danzig in a wig. He realized Tiger attempted opening the car door so he grabbed her around the midsection. Yes, he definitely had a woman. Once at headquarters, he dragged her inside. His men laughed as Tiger screamed in vain. They knew what to expect. One led the way to a cell and opened it without being instructed. With impunity, Hochstetter threw Tiger to the ground.
Hochstetter snapped, "Leave us!" The Gestapo corporal closed the door. Hochstetter heard the clinks that signaled the locking. He stared at Tiger's icy glare of defiance then asked, "Shall we begin the interrogation?"
Tiger haughtily snapped, "You're insane! What do you want?"
"I should think it obvious," smiled Hochstetter. "I enjoy interrogating the frauen." He watched the realization set in on his prisoner's face. Control meant power and he intended to force submission. He rushed the woman, who dared object to his intentions by evading him. Hochstetter knew he had to take her down quickly.
As she swung wildly, Hochstetter grabbed Tiger's right arm and wrenched it behind her back. He slammed her against a wall and hissed, "You will enjoy this much better if you cooperate."
"There's nothing to tell," sobbed Tiger.
The adrenalin facilitated the physical reaction as Hochstetter pressed against Tiger's backside. He inhaled the delicate perfume and knew he was going to enjoy this interrogation session. When he realized Tiger was making a reach for his pistol, he angrily threw her to the floor. Hastily, he moved the pistol from his holster to the inside of his jacket.
Watching Tiger crawl, Hochstetter smiled fiendishly as he mounted her. He pushed her face against the concrete floor. Tiger tried squirming but Hochstetter knew the routine. He undid his fly and started pulling up her skirt. It was simply business. It was about control. He tore away the undergarment while Tiger tried crawling but he maintained his weight.
As he achieved his objective, Hochstetter moaned in delight. He savored the moment, especially as Tiger began crying in defeat. Victory was his. The more his victim sobbed, the greater he enjoyed his actions. It was no longer business. It was sheer delight and he did not want it to end. Yet he yielded and gasped with relief. He rested on top of Tiger for a moment, who no longer fought him.
Hochstetter finally stood. He corrected his uniform and leaned against a wall. He watched as Tiger balled into a fetal position. Tired but pleased, he returned his pistol to his holster. Then he pulled out a cigarette and gloated, "Would you like one? No? I really do enjoy interrogating the frauen."
Once finished with his cigarette, Hochstetter walked to the cell door and summoned the guard. As the guard unlocked the door, he took one more look at Tiger. She was done. He had power over her. Next visit, she would tell him all her secrets. Exiting the cell, he sported a broad grin.
#HH#
Despite the late hour, Collins had a job to do. The Gestapo suffered lack of trust between officers. They constantly worried about conspiracies – real as well as imagined. Underlings allied with officers for a variety of reasons. Reichert allied with Collins because he believed Hochstetter was an embarrassment to the profession. For now, Collins used the young corporal to his advantage. Someday, he might tell the kid that he was an American spy.
Hochstetter resented the notion that he needed a training officer, which gave Collins the advantage. The best he could manage was that ruse, allowing him the freedom to come and go, as he needed. If he forged orders giving him command of the local Gestapo, eventually someone would find him out and put a bullet in him. Hochstetter never offered information willingly but did comply with Collins' order whenever he inquired of certain matters. Collins would take action. Constantly being called to Berlin provided an excellent excuse to absent himself from the disguise.
Knowing that Hochstetter captured Tiger bothered Collins greatly. Reichert called not to provide the information but to complain that Hochstetter ordered the men not to interrogate the woman. Collins understood the euphemism. He discreetly planted dynamite with timers around certain sections of the facility. The first explosions diverted the men to another part of the building. He counted paces in his head as he made his way to the cells.
"Oberst Feldkamp!"
Collins saw the young corporal in the hallway and snapped, "Explosions!"
"A prison break," smiled Reichert. "I did not run."
Collins asked, "Where is this Marie Monet?"
"This one," replied Reichert as he pointed towards a cell.
"Thanks," said Collins. Without hesitation, he drew his pistol and fired. As Reichert fell, the frozen look of surprise took hold as blood streamed down his face. Collins could not afford regret. Reichert was not supposed to be in that hallway. Collins grabbed the keys just as another set of explosions roared. He was seventeen seconds behind schedule.
Entering the cell, Collins saw Tiger curled up in a ball in the middle of the floor. Collins knew he was too late. Well, maybe the corporal had to die anyway for delaying the information. He had no time for comforting words. He grabbed Tiger and slung her over his shoulder unceremoniously. He ignored her angry fists and said, "Airborne is here."
"Bastard," hissed Tiger.
Collins had no time. He had to get ahead of the next explosions intended to obscure others from pursuing him. He did not trust Tiger's current state of mind or physical condition to allow her to run with him. He ran through the corridors and made his exit. Then he hastily shoved Tiger into the car, pushed her to the passenger side, and sat behind the wheel.
"Oskar is waiting," said Collins. He turned the ignition and put the car in gear. Then he heard the wailing woman. After he was safely away he said, "I'm sorry. I found out too late Hochstetter captured you."
Collins did not know what to say or how to act. He saw a capable resistance fighter suddenly incapacitated. He was convinced it was the end of her career. Moralities changed too drastically. Spies were shot. Female spies were brutalized and then shot. He did not like failure. He hoped Danzig was up to the challenge of taking care of Tiger.
Arriving at Danzig's place, Collins had to get Tiger inside the house as quickly as possible. No longer sobbing, the operative appeared to be in shock. Tiger offered no resistance as Collins carried her to the door. Danzig quickly opened the door, a cautious man having observed the arrival of a car and the person walking up the path carrying another person. Collins hastily entered.
Danzig snapped, "What happened?"
"Hochstetter happened," growled Collins.
Danzig led the two to a bedroom and Collins set Tiger down on a bed. The woman began crying. Collins could not recall a time in his adult life where he felt utterly helpless. He would rather deal with rendering first aid to a soldier suffering from a sucking chest would. He had no idea what to do or say.
Danzig snapped, "Stay with her. I'll call a doctor."
Collins merely nodded. He stood awkwardly, trying not to stare, wondering if he should say anything at all while Tiger curled up into a tight ball. He was in the wrong uniform. Tiger hated all Nazis. Hochstetter taught her a new lesson: terror.
When Danzig returned, he said, "The doctor is coming."
Collins said, "Take care of her. I have to go. I'm sure word has spread that Gestapo Headquarters was bombed. Hochstetter would think it peculiar if I was absent."
Danzig glared, "Put a bullet in him and be done with it." The master of disguise sat on the edge of the bed and began rubbing Tiger's back. As Collins left, Danzig prayed that the man would live up to his unit's reputation as animals and assassins. He found arms desperately wrapping around him. Gently, he cradled Tiger's head.
Tiger sobbed, "Colonel Hogan must not find out."
Danzig cried, "But why not? He would do anything for you."
Tiger responded, "I know that he would and that frightens me."
Danzig gently said, "Shh, we'll take care of this."
"Colonel Hogan is a good man," said Tiger. "If he hears about this, he will descend into madness. I am afraid he might not ever return from that."
Danzig said, "Very well. I promise that I will not tell him. Perhaps someday you will, but definitely not today."
When the doctor arrived, Danzig decided it best to remain in the room. He controlled his facial expressions expertly despite the swelling anger. Scraped and bruised but not physically broken, Tiger would recover. He knew that she possessed the strength to overcome the emotional and psychological damage.