Major Richten shuffled through the few papers left on his desk after several long hours of reading, checking, and signing. He rubbed his eyes and picked up his pen again. Night was already turning into early morning but the sooner he got the papers off to Berlin, the sooner this campaign would be at an end. If only they were that close to winning the entire war.

When the North Afrika campaign wrapped up, he'd take a few weeks of leave. Go home and see his wife and children again. He'd been away for over a year. The war was tiring business, and the thought of home with cool air and green trees seemed more like a dream than a reality that was waiting for him. But if he worked hard enough and quickly enough, it would become a reality once again.

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he said without looking up from the document he was perusing. Requests for supplies to be sent in to Rommel's Korps. As the door opened, he laid it aside. Rommel himself would be here in a few days in preparation for the meeting. He could discuss the requests with him then.

One of the guards entered. Private Norbert. One of his best.

"What is it, private?" he asked.

"Major Richten, there's a man at the gate. He says he wants to speak with you."

Richten shook his head. "I have no time for him."

"But sir," Norbert said. "He's British."

:::

Moffitt was led through corridor after corridor. Even at this late hour of the night, there were guards, officers, and other people walking the halls, grouped in rooms, or wandering around with seemingly little aim or purpose. He didn't know their schedule, but it did seem a bit strange that so many of them would still be up. Maybe they were preparing for something big, just as Boggs had said.

After a few minutes of walking, he was hopelessly confused as to what doors led where and he was sure that he wouldn't be able to retrace his steps if needed. Either the building was large or he was purposely being led in a roundabout way to wherever he was going so that he wouldn't be able to escape. Wouldn't be able to escape easily, at least.

Finally, he and his guard – the same one who'd been sent to notify those inside headquarters that he was there – stood outside a carved, ornate door. Whatever or whoever was inside had to be important. The guard pushed the door open for him and Moffitt walked in, without being shoved, which was a good sign.

"You are British?" was the first thing that came from the man behind the large desk. Some documents were sitting on his desk, along with a small glass of wine, and it was obvious that he'd been working for some time. The man himself was a major, important enough that his orders about Moffitt would most likely stay permanent, although he wasn't sure if that fact should have been viewed as good or bad.

"Yes. Sergeant Jack Moffitt, formerly of the Long Range Desert Patrol."

The major sat up straight, eyes widening slightly. "The Rat Patrol?"

"Yes."

"What are you doing here?"

Moffitt opened his mouth to speak. The moment had come. He'd have to be convincing, of course. Sincere and open, completely opening himself up to questions and inspection. He was ready to that, though. He'd prepared, and now it was time to drop his bomb."You'll probably find this hard to believe, major, but I'm here to defect. From the Allies."

"I...I..."

:::

Richten tried to control his excitement as he went over Sergeant Moffitt's story again in his mind. The Rat Patrol, desert vermin that they were, were tricky and cunning. This could be a trap, but he wanted to believe that it wasn't. If the sergeant was telling the truth, there was no telling what it would mean for both the war effort and for himself personally. A promotion from Berlin would certainly be waiting for him.

But he would be careful and take every precaution before he accepted anything Sergeant Moffitt said. Even if he was lying, they would still have one member of the special desert patrol to interrogate and hold up as a trophy of war.

"Let me get this straight, sergeant," he said, voice a little higher from the enthusiastic delight running through him. "You're tired of doing the – what did you say? – dirty work for the Allies and never getting anything in return, besides a few beatings from some our own, so you want to come over to our side and share your desert expertise with us in return for some small compensation." Even as he spoke the words, a shiver of hope ran through him. It sounded almost too good to be true, which was why he was suspicious, but he was willing – more than willing – to learn more.

Moffitt smiled. "That's right, major. I've been in this war long enough to see both sides of the argument clearly, and from what I've observed, Britain isn't doing too good of a job protecting her own people, not to mention fighting for another country's." He paused for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, and then said, "I think the new future of the twentieth century rests with Germany, and I don't want to waste my time fighting on the losing side."

It was a good answer, one that Richten agreed with wholeheartedly. Perhaps Sergeant Moffitt wasn't an infiltrator. He would have to see.

:::

Bitterness churned inside Moffitt as he spouted off lie after lie about Britain, the Allies, and his opinion of them. On the outside, however, he was calm, quite, and smiling. The major didn't seem like much of a formidable opponent, but he still had to keep on his guard. The wrong answer could seal him up in this place forever, as a prisoner.

"Your story is interesting, Sergeant Moffitt," the major said. He sounded convinced, but who could really tell? Moffitt gripped the arms of the chair that the major had insisted he sit in a little more tightly, fighting off the urge to tap his fingers on the polished wood. He had to appear calm, in control of himself, and with nothing to hide. "I believe we can use a man like you, if really do mean everything you say."

"I do, sir," Moffitt said. "It's too important for me to play around with."

He meant every word.

"It is growing late. Private Norbert will escort you to a room and we will talk again in the morning."

Moffitt nodded and stood up when the major did. "I look forward to it," he said.