Hogan felt as if a two and a half ton truck ran over him during the night. He received constant reports relayed by radio. Someone bombed the local Gestapo Headquarters. Publicly, enemy agents received the blame. Behind the scenes, the Underground insisted it was not at their hands but they approved of the action after the fact. London's news upset him the most: Collins did what he had to do in order to rescue an agent without blowing his cover.
Gestapo Headquarters deserved to blow, but it meant vengeance and retribution. Many in the local Underground unit were already relocating to new safe houses as a precautionary measure. Schnitzer would continue his veterinary practice, accepting the inherent risks with ferrying passengers through Stalag 13. With any luck, the man did not fly into the Gestapo's radar view.
Hogan sensed the heightened camp security as he oversaw the morning sports. Klink did not bring up the night's calamities in town at roll call, but Schultz remained reliable for information. A spontaneous riot erupted in the streets, interfering with the local fire brigade's efforts to save the building. The local infantry reacted with orders to shoot to kill. The unit commander did not want to shoot his fellow citizens. Fortunately, the crowd quickly dispersed before Wagner's training company arrived.
"This war's going to hell," said Hogan.
Schultz shrugged, "It's already Hölle. That's why it's a war."
Three Gestapo staff cars arrived in tandem. Hogan did not like the feel of the situation. He had to play it cool. He watched as Hochstetter stormed into the Kommandantur with two guards and a vaguely familiar looking civilian. He needed information. Schultz tended to his duty as sergeant of the guard and went towards the staff cars, affording Hogan an opportunity to return to the barracks.
LeBeau anticipated Hogan's need but the officer still found the beloved chef muttering and swearing over the abuse of a coffeepot. Hogan sat at his desk. It took a moment for Carter, Kinchloe, and Newkirk to make their way without arousing suspicion. Angry rants bellowed from the appliance turned amplifier.
#HH#
Klink was already in kowtowing mode by the time Hochstetter made it into his office. Hilda barely made her escape after relaying the gate guard's report. Klink feared the Gestapo on a good day. Knowing what happened the prior night, he tried containing his dread. Hochstetter boiled over like an unattended teakettle. Klink suffered several moments of Hochstetter's rants about the Underground.
Klink finally asked in his best ingratiating tone, "What can I do for you today?"
Hochstetter pointed an angry finger, "You can help by keeping an eye on this man. The Underground wants him dead."
Klink furrowed his brow, "A businessman?"
"BAH!"
Klink immediately said, "It doesn't matter. We'll look after him for you."
Hochstetter began pacing, "It is only for a couple of days. Doctor Wendell Hahn is a gifted chemist very close to making a breakthrough in his synthetic fuel research. Yesterday, two Underground agents approached him and tried convincing him to go to England."
Klink innocently asked, "Was that before or after they bombed your headquarters?"
Hochstetter drew his pistol, trained it at Klink, and spoke through gritted teeth, "Before, you dummkopf."
Klink stood absolutely still, chose his words carefully, and said, "Herr Kriminalrat, I truly am sorry what happened last night. I know you'll find the responsible parties. We are honored that you chose us with this important assignment."
As Hochstetter holstered his pistol, he said, "It wasn't my idea. Oberst Feldkamp thought it prudent during this temporary situation."
Klink felt slight relief and said, "Very good."
Hochstetter sneered, "I even called your friend with the plough horse. He proved somewhat useful last night. He will be extra vigilant tonight."
Klink proudly said, "He is a formidable soldier."
Hochstetter snapped, "Bah! He's a social democrat, of that I'm convinced, but he follows orders. I have business elsewhere. See to it that Doctor Hahn is made comfortable."
"Of course," said Klink.
#HH#
Hogan tried analyzing the situation. Hahn said he wanted to go to England but the Gestapo contacted him. Hochstetter brought him to the camp for protection, but only at the behest of Collins in guise as Feldkamp. His team considered three options: help the man defect, abduct the man, or kill him.
LeBeau casually said, "If we kill him, we have to dispose of the body."
"Like trash," said Kinchloe.
Newkirk said, "Yeah, but how are we supposed to do that? Hochstetter has the damned cavalry patrolling the perimeter."
Hogan said, "The easiest way out is if he really wants to defect. We can still manage an abduction outside of camp. If we try it inside of camp, Hochstetter will land an entire regiment on top of us."
Carter shrugged, "Maybe we should give him my chemistry set and let him blow himself up."
Newkirk mumbled, "Been there, done that."
Hogan said, "True, but Collins sent him here for a reason."
Newkirk said, "He ain't up to the task. It's one thing to impersonate Jerry for a few days but he's setting up house."
Hogan mused, "We have to talk to him."
Kinchloe asked, "Begging the Colonel's pardon, but what if it's a trap?"
LeBeau growled, "I'll take care of him!"
Hogan said, "He's seen me. True, I was wearing a mustache, civilian clothes, and speaking German, but he might figure it out. We have to get close to him and find out what's going on."
Carter asked, "How do you get close to any man?"
"Cook him a steak dinner." Five heads turned around. Hogan realized Saunders just arrived, as perfume began wafting into the room. She continued, "Well, that's what I would do."
Newkirk exclaimed, "You would feed him steak before offing him?"
Saunders frowned, "I didn't realize you were plotting an assassination. Poison his drink. Ricin will do but it takes a couple of days."
Several jaws dropped. Hogan liked the idea of wining and dining the man. He could easily manipulate Klink into arranging a small dinner party. He felt slight revulsion with Saunders suggesting poison. He finally said, "You're telling me that you, a nurse, would poison a man."
"Me? Good heavens no," said Saunders. "Assassination is man's work. Do no harm. Besides, why ruin a good steak with something as gauche as poison?"
Kinchloe calmly said, "Coldly pragmatic."
Hogan said, "No poison, especially if I'm invited to dinner."
"Good," said Saunders. "Even I can't help you if you're poisoned."
Hogan sarcastically said, "Thanks for the info. Go do something."
Saunders turned around and called, "Soldato Garlotti! Ti piacerebbe giocare a carte?" Private Garlotti! Would you like to play cards?
Garlotti replied, "Sì, bella signora." Yes, pretty lady.
As Saunders walked away, Newkirk muttered, "Show off."
Hogan said, "Alright, enough of that. LeBeau, I'm going to volunteer you to cook dinner."
Carter said, "Aw shucks, that means you need me to be a waiter."
Hogan casually said, "That's because I trust you to put the knock out drops in the correct glass of wine if necessary."
#HH#
Hogan understood risk. He arrived for dinner at the appointed time, the condition for LeBeau's services. Hahn showed no hint of recognizing the clean-shaven air corps pilot sporting his best smile and conversing only in English. Often, he calmly laughed to himself whenever he wore his Class A uniform. Klink never questioned how Hogan acquired it. Would he believe via airdrop?
Yet Hogan's mood turned foul despite the pre-dinner schnapps in the living room. Saunders arrived wearing one of the Red Cross' nurse uniforms with the red triangle. He remembered her original strenuous objection to the winkel. She acted as if it did not concern her while Klink offered her a small drink. Then he looked at Hahn, who seemed mildly interested.
Hogan teased, "Ah, Colonel! It's always a pleasure."
"The Kommandant orders this," Saunders intimated.
Hogan smiled. He delivered the first shot and she returned the volley. He did not want her interfering with the task. He needed to know where Hahn stood. Was he an agent? Was he defecting? Was he just a loyal German doing as requested by the Gestapo?
Hahn casually said, "I don't recognize the insignia on your uniform, Frau Krankenschwester."
Saunders casually said, "Oh, you mean the red winkel. It's used at all the concentration camps that house enemy prisoners of war, spies, and traitors."
The comment hit its mark as Klink cringed in discomfort and Hahn looked away. Hogan felt extremely annoyed. The woman was as subtle as a fart in a crowded elevator. He composed his thoughts and said, "You'll have to excuse Colonel Saunders. She deliberately sets herself on fire so she can practice burning in Hell."
Hahn said, "Very interesting."
Klink warned, "Hogan…"
Game, set, and match, thought Hogan. He needed Hahn focused on him, not the Death from Above distraction. Scientists did not always notice certain social cues, a hazard of their frequent isolation while postulating or formulating breakthrough discoveries. Yet Hogan knew that the scientist remained calculating. What was his objective?
Klink often proved the awkward dinner host despite LeBeau's best efforts to extol the virtues of the meal. Schnapps may have been Klink's preferred aperitif, but LeBeau found a dry white wine from the cellar called Dubonnet, a trusted French name during the last century. Hogan took the conversation lead while still managing to enjoy the tapenade spread on toast.
The party moved from the living room to the dining area when the entrée was ready, a delightful bacon Quiche Lorraine. Klink sat at the head of the table while Hogan sat directly across. Hahn sat to Klink's right while Saunders sat to the left. The relaxed mood invited conversation, yet guarded from all fronts.
Hogan asked, "Doctor, what brings you to Hammelburg?"
Hahn replied, "Ach, Essen is too unsafe."
Klink said, "It's terrible. Antiaircraft artillery units do their best to protect the manufacturing facilities."
Saunders said, "I thought Essen was just a coal mine." Hogan shot her a warning glance. She calmly added, "I do recall something about steel manufacturing."
Hahn laughed, "Yes that is somewhat true. It is also home of Theodor Goldschmidt AG."
Saunders asked, "Who is that?" Hogan really wanted the woman to shut up so he could do his job. Discreetly, he kicked her.
Hahn replied, "Oh, a most brilliant chemist! His sons continue his work. He was one of the leading authorities on synthetic fuels."
"I never did understand synthetic fuels," sighed Saunders. "I mean, why not make cars that use steam instead of gasoline? That conveniently solves the oil problem."
Hogan saw an opportunity to shut down the rogue nurse. He started laughing. Hahn as a chemist immediately joined in while Klink added a nervous giggle. Carter began clearing dishes while Hahn engaged in full professorial explanations concerning synthetic fuels. Hogan tried hiding his frustration. He needed to know where Hahn's loyalties laid, not how to convert coal into synthetic fuels using hydrogenation methodologies.
Hogan found brief respite when LeBeau entered and praised the main course: beef tournedos, twice-baked potatoes, grilled vegetables, and fresh baguettes. Normally, Hogan found the bragging exhausting and tedious, but tonight it halted the scientific lecture. He liked LeBeau but thought the dinner praises were overdone, unlike the gastronomical creations that looked and smelled like perfection.
Yet Hahn launched a complete lecture of converting directly coal to synthetic fuel using the Bergius process, first developed and patented by Friedrich Bergius in 1913. Production began in 1919 at Goldschmidt. Then he lectured on the indirect coal conversion process through gasification, developed by Franz Fischer and Hans Tropsch. Current production favored the direct conversion process, proving a reliable source of high-grade aviation fuel.
Hogan's ears perked, "Aviation fuel? Is it any good?"
"Quite," replied Hahn. "We have twenty five plants producing one hundred twenty four thousand barrels of synthetic fuel per day. One third is dedicated to high-grade aviation fuel."
Hogan asked, "What else?"
Hahn casually replied, "Oh, we do very well with synthetics including oil, rubber, methanol, ammonia, and nitric acid."
"I see," said Hogan. He had no idea that the synthetic fuel program rendered that much product.
Saunders cried, "Men!' Several heads turned to her and she continued, "Always finding better ways to kill other men! Maybe it's time that we women take over the world!" Immediate laughter silenced the nurse.
Hogan looked at Hahn and said, "Regardless of how good your synthetic fuel program is, I'm willing to bet that in the end it will be oil that wins this war."
Hahn sighed, "Perhaps. Still, we do what we can. Your oilfields are over five thousand miles away. Your invasions will be stalled waiting for the trucks to arrive to fuel your jeeps and tanks. Some of us aren't interested in war but we do what we can to survive."
As Carter began clearing dinner plates, Hogan mused over Hahn's comment. The man allegedly wanted to defect but acted to the contrary around the Gestapo. The scientist continued his boasts, explaining oil sources in Romania supplementing the program with hopes for Russian oil. It proved to Hogan that the man had to be neutralized.
Such a cold thought – neutralized. If defection was not an option, Hogan must assassinate the man. Yes, as long as he distanced himself from considering the man as a potential ally he could pull the trigger. It was not his style. He needed guidance. He wanted something other than vinaigrette for the salad and cheese but lacked options, an interesting analogy to his current dilemma.
Baguettes deserved butter and Klink demonstrated social status with that option instead of margarine. Hahn took delight in the dairy product, reminding Hogan that butter shortages existed in Germany. If the man was a successful scientist, he should be able to afford butter. Rationing occurred in the United States. Germany suffered shortages and prices reacted accordingly.
Time for dessert, and Hogan realized he was running out of opportunities for discussion. He loved the fact that Klink had access to fresh food. He savored the smell of vanilla emanating from the Crème Brûlée. He felt warm and excited yet strangely comforted as he took his first bite. LeBeau did wonders. Hogan hoped that LeBeau had enough ingredients to make enough for the men in Barracks 2. The custard base with caramelized sugar dessert was exquisite, discouraging conversation.
The dinner party finally moved to the living room. LeBeau graciously offered a 1934 Haut Brion while Klink made available Tyrolean apricot schnapps. While a genuine French dinner party could take hours, Hogan understood the Klink version. He had perhaps half an hour before Klink would want to retire for the evening.
"I love dancing," sighed Saunders. "It's too bad Hitler outlawed the best dancing music."
Hahn scoffed, "How typically American! He outlawed the decadent assemblage of instruments and notes that, when combined, promote reckless promiscuity."
Hogan shrugged, "Don't knock it 'til you try it."
Klink walked over to the radio and began searching through stations for something appropriate. Hogan tried not to roll his eyes when Saunders went to help. She was interfering again, a trademark of her unit's modus operandi. He realized Hahn was staring at him, so he smiled. Klink settled on a radio station playing some type of swing music.
Hogan commented, "I thought that was outlawed."
Klink cried, "Nonsense! This is Charlie and his Orchestra! Goebbels personally assembled this group. They can be heard as far away as London. I'll even buy you some of their records. They are much better than Tommy Dorsey!"
Saunders teased, "But can you dance to it?"
Hogan decided to allow the distraction. He needed time with Hahn. As irritating as the nurse was, he knew Klink was a terrible dancer and hoped that Saunders received exactly what she deserved for interfering. He looked at Hahn and asked, "What are your plans?"
Hahn sounded slightly distracted, "I'm not sure what you mean by that. Have we met before tonight?"
Hogan shrugged, "I have one of those faces."
Hahn said, "Herr Kommandant speaks fluent English."
"You seem to be doing pretty good too," countered Hogan.
Hahn said, "I was approached by a curious reporter from the Hammelburg Zeitung and his secretary. You bear a striking resemblance."
Hogan quickly glanced at Klink, then looked at Hahn and quietly asked, "What do you really want?"
"I want to live," replied Hahn. "My cousin Otto has made important discoveries with nuclear fission, so the authorities tolerate some of his social democratic points of view. I do not have his éclat."
"I see," said Hogan. His thoughts returned to the possibility that the man wanted to defect. Hahn seemed to be walking the proverbial tightrope. It was understandable. Hogan knew he had to maintain his character as a soldier. He understood military and professional bearing. Critical thinking was important in his line of work, which was extremely demanding. He relied on his keen intellect.
Hogan was accustomed to leading under pressure. He had to make snap decisions and could not rely on simple faith. He had good interpersonal skills, keeping his men in good spirits. They trusted him implicitly. Failure was not an option but sometimes happened. He planned contingency plans. He felt regret when Hercules died because the situation was out of his control but still his fault. London sent Hercules to his operation.
Hahn sighed, "I don't know who to trust."
"I don't trust Hitler," Hogan sternly said.
"You can say that because you are American," retorted Hahn. "Oh, you're no longer in the air bombing our cities, but you're still the enemy. If I consort with you, my life becomes forfeit."
Upon hearing cries of pain from Saunders, Hogan stood and said, "I think Fraulein Krankenschwester needs rescuing from Herr Kommandant." He needed to mull over the discussion. As far as he could determine, there was no immediate danger. He needed Hahn to get off the fence.
Langenscheidt, the spoiler of all joy, entered the room, and nervously said, "Herr Kommandant, General Burkhalter is on the telephone. He insists it is most urgent."
Klink went into melodramatic mode and hastily exited the living room, which made Hogan smile. He needed Hahn away from Klink's purview. Langenscheidt left. Schultz continued indulging on additional portions of Crème Brûlée that LeBeau served. Saunders sat at the small table with Schultz and took an unceremonious amount of wine.
As Hogan sat on the couch, Hahn supposed, "Urgent telephone calls at this hour of the night? It's very peculiar. Perhaps it concerns me."
Hogan asked, "Why?"
"The Gestapo believes I intend to defect," replied Hahn.
Hogan posed, "Well? Tell me now. I don't have time for parlor games."
Hahn smiled, "The Alps, chocolates, cheese, reliable timepieces, beautiful lakes, and neutrality. I should like to teach at the University of Zurich. Ah, that is desirable."
"I can't get you to Switzerland," frowned Hogan.
Hahn quietly said, "I know. It appears that I must settle for something else."
Hogan said, "You're afraid of the concentration camps."
"You seem to be doing well," countered Hahn.
"This is a prisoner of war camp," responded Hogan. "Klink has to abide by the Geneva Convention."
"I see," mulled Hahn.
Hogan decided all or nothing and asked, "Do you want to go to England?"
Hahn sighed, "It's the lesser of two evils."
Before Hogan could comment, Klink returned and acted in his typical fawning manner. Berlin felt the local area was extremely active with Underground activity and wanted Doctor Hahn transported to Berlin. In a military vehicle, the three hundred mile trip could take eight hours depending on road conditions. Driving was slower than the Deutsche Reichsbahn (Germany National Railway), which had to go through Frankfurt before connecting with a train leading to Berlin. Der Berliner Schnellzug (Berlin Express Train) would take five hours, assuming they boarded the 7:35 train.
Hogan sensed Hahn's frustration. The scientist merely wanted a small break from his research. However, the scientist conceded the argument that Germany needed him back at work. It ended the dinner party. Hogan had to play it casual. He needed an early morning plan. With Hahn's car leaving around seven in the morning, Hogan realized roll call would interfere.
Once back at the barracks, Hogan spoke with his core team. He needed people that he could trust. Klink would probably send one of the guards as driver. Hahn had to leave camp. If the man disappeared within the confines of Stalag 13, the Gestapo would tear apart every building looking for escape tunnels. Worse, Klink would be removed and another Kommandant assigned – one that would effectively shut down his operation.
Kinchloe calmly offered, "Maybe we should pass this off to Danzig and the Underground. We can't take the chance that Klink will keep to a short roll call."
"That's one way to go," said Newkirk.
Carter smiled, "We could blow up the train station tonight. That way, Hahn has to go by car."
Hogan sighed, "The train will still come. Kinch, see if you can get Danzig. If he can't help, we'll have to resort to Plan B."
Newkirk asked, "What's Plan B?"
Hogan replied, "We'll have two teams escape. One will be the diversion to lead the Krauts away while the other will snatch Hahn."
LeBeau said, "There's risk. We'll be short for the count."
"Let's hope Danzig can pull something together," said Hogan.