"They hardly made it through the front gate before we ran them off," Richten said. He watched the sergeant carefully, gauging his reaction to the news. Although he'd certainly given them good information in regards to the best way to send the Rat Patrol running like the scared vermin they were, he was still careful and cautious. If he reported this to Berlin and the man turned out to be a spy, there would be no promotion for him.

Moffitt nodded. He seemed calm enough, sitting back in the plush chair.

"The soldiers who were down there firing at them, claim to have wounded or killed one. With this, and your defection, perhaps there will soon be no Rat Patrol for the Korps to contend with," Richten added. He smiled. "It is not often that we have the opportunity of routing the desert rats. I believe a celebration is in order."

He went over to a cabinet and poured two small glasses of wine.

"To victory on the North African front," he said, raising his glass.

"To victory," Moffitt said, and raised his.

:::

While he drank and laughed and talked with Major Richten, Moffitt's insides were churning. Had he been any less experienced in the art of undercover work and being able to keep his emotions in check, he would've betrayed himself from the moment Richten reported that someone had been wounded or, worse, killed.

As it was, the effort was becoming almost superhuman. All he wanted was to be dismissed – he couldn't appear too eager to leave – go back to his room, and think about what he'd done, what he could possibly do to fix this, and what he would do next to complete his mission. Because the mission took precedence over personal feelings and he had to complete it. So far he'd learned nothing other than that an important meeting was taking place soon, and he'd already spent three of his thirty days.

"Sergeant Moffitt," Richten began, the tone of his voice showing that a new topic of conversation was about to begin. "There is a radio station a few miles from here, in El Jebel, that we use to transmit propaganda broadcasts to all the Allied soldiers in North Africa. I was wondering if you would be willing to give a short speech to let everyone know you're truly on our side now. I'm sure rumours must be flying around your camp, and it would be best to put them at a rest, don't you think?"

The propaganda broadcast at El Jebel. So they'd started it up again, and Richten was asking him to be part of it. Moffitt had thought of this possibility more than once, but he'd always imagined the Germans themselves giving news of his defection. Not a personal speech coming directly from him. It would be a good stepping-stone toward fully convincing them that he was now on their side. Along with convincing the Allies. But what choice did he have?

"When will we go?" he asked, smiling.

The door opened just then.

"Go where, sergeant?"

Moffitt half turned in his chair.

It was Dietrich.

:::

Their camp was only a couple of miles away. Headquarters was over twenty. Tully needed medical attention badly, but they also needed to pause for a moment, bandage the wound as best they could to stop the bleeding, and then move on to HQ. So Troy got Hitch to drive back to their regular oasis-camp.

It'd been tough to get out of there safely – and Tully was evidence that nothing had really been safe – and Troy didn't understand why. They'd gone on hundreds of raids, and they'd almost never been met with such heavy, unexpected opposition. Unless Dietrich had been there and somehow had learned of their coming. Troy shook his head. He should've been more careful, instead of barging in like they owned the place.

"Sarge!" It was Hitch, with a quiet shout.

Troy broke out of his thoughts and looked ahead to where Hitch was pointing. Their base was in sight. And so where several half-tracks, a tank, and dozens of German soldiers. It was too large a force to simply be a small group pausing at the oasis for a rest. The oasis wasn't even big enough for everything, and most of the vehicles were spilling into the desert. But whatever their reasons for being there, it was trouble. They hadn't spotted the jeep yet, but if they didn't get out of there soon, there wouldn't be a jeep left to drive.

"Let's get out of here, Hitch."

Hitch steered the jeep back around and left as fast as the thing could go. Troy had a hand pressed against Tully's shoulder – he was unconscious at the moment – but blood seeped through his fingers, and it wouldn't be long before he'd have lost enough blood for things to be critical. "Get us back to HQ on the double. Tully's not going to make it if we don't get there soon."

Hitch nodded.

:::

"How is he, doctor?"

"I've taken the bullet out. It fractured his shoulder, and unless he gets complete bed rest for the next month or so, his arm could be crippled permanently." The doctor rubbed his eyes, and Hitch felt tired himself. It was four in the morning and they'd brought Tully in at one. The doctor had been working all early morning to staunch the bleeding, remove the bullet, and generally get Tully fixed up.

Hitch exchanged glances with Troy.

"Can we see him?" Troy asked.

"He's sleeping off the anesthetic. Give it a few hours."

Troy nodded.

He and Hitch left the medical tent. "That's tough, Sarge. We're down to two of us and one jeep."

"Yeah, and Moffitt's still missing. Everything anyone said put him at German HQ, but he wasn't in any of the cells." Troy shook his head. "I don't understand any of it."

"Maybe they took him out for interrogation." Hitch didn't want to think about that, but it was a possibility. Along with another possibility that had been nagging the back of his mind ever since the ambush at German HQ. "Sarge, you don't think they could be right about Moffitt, do you?"

He could see the puzzled frown on Troy's face in the cold early light.

"What do you mean, Hitch?"

"I don't think Moffitt's a traitor, but it does look strange. He's not in their prison, we got bushwhacked at German HQ, and then there were all those guys waiting for us at the oasis." He felt ashamed to have even admitted any doubts, but it was best to keep everything in the open, on the level.

Troy shook his head. "Moffitt would never defect. It was just a coincidence. Or maybe Dietrich."

:::

"Ah, Hauptmann Dietrich," Richten said. "I'm glad to see that you have arrived."

Dietrich paid no attention to Richten's greeting. His entire attention was focused on the man sitting in the chair in Richten's office. Moffitt. A Britisher. And, most importantly, part of the Rat Patrol. He was wearing his usual desert clothes, had looked completely relaxed when Dietrich entered the room, and seemed to be on good terms with Richten. He couldn't understand any of it.

"You are probably surprised to see a member of that desert patrol, the one you've tried so hard to capture, here in this room," Richten said, gesturing to Moffitt. Dietrich gave a slight nod, and Richten then turned to Moffitt. "And you are probably wondering why Captain Dietrich is here."

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"I called Captain Dietrich here because he has the most experience with trying to capture you and your former companions. You and he will be working together toward the common purpose of capturing the rest of the Rat Patrol." Dietrich already knew this. Richten had contacted him yesterday and asked him to come down to headquarters, saying he had new ideas on how to capture the Rat Patrol. But he'd said nothing about a member of the patrol being there.

"Sergeant Moffitt has defected over to us," Richten said. "I expect we'll all be working together for years to come."

Moffitt had defected? Dietrich didn't believe a word of him. Out of all the members of the Rat Patrol, Moffitt was, in his mind, the least likely to give up on his country and the Allies in general. He didn't know what he based that feeling on, all he knew was that his intuition told him all this was false, it was a trap, and German High Command would pay for this error in judgement.

Richten was obviously enamoured with what he thought Moffitt could bring him. He wouldn't listen to a word Dietrich said. But somehow, he'd have to make him, and everyone else see, the deception that was being practiced on them.