The afternoon had a cloud of uncertainly hovering over it. Questions about Pandora did not yield any significant results; everyone only knew that he had shown up during the war with his lovely assistant. There was no answer to why he had chosen a female name as a stage name, nor was there any information on his habits. Pandora kept to himself, refusing to attend the socials or parties that the other magicians attended.

With these limited answers, the team convened back at Newkirk's apartment for the British tradition of afternoon tea, followed by a discussion of the situation.

"It's the textbook case of someone having something to hide," Carter said, determined that his theory had a chance of being true.

"More like a textbook case of someone who's just antisocial," Kinch said. "If someone had something to hide, why would he act so suspiciously? Let's assume that your theory of Pandora being Gretel is right. Gretel isn't some naïve girl; she's a trained spy. She knows how to fool her enemies."

"Too right," Newkirk muttered, thinking about how easily he had been duped by the spy. His voice had an edge of bitterness to it. If she was behind the new Springheel Jack attacks now, it was likely because she had been driven out of Germany because of the incident involving the two of them.

All eyes were on Newkirk now, who stared into his teacup to avoid their gaze, but LeBeau's especially. The older corporal had been keeping an eye on his English friend with his peripheral vision, and Newkirk knew that LeBeau somehow knew about the debate going on in the Englishman's head.

"Well," Kinch said, trying to move on from the awkward pause that had filled the conversation. "The point I'm trying to make is that if Pandora was Gretel, she wouldn't draw attention to herself by walling herself off, even if she was impersonating a man. I'm not saying that this automatically puts Pandora in the clear, of course; he could've been set up by Gretel so that she could pull the strings out of sight."

Hogan mused over this and gave a nod.

"I agree; it still warrants more of an investigation," he said. "We're still going back to see his show tonight. Newkirk, how much are tickets?"

"I can get you in for free, Guv—employee's privilege."

"Good. I still don't want us going together; Kinch and I will go separately while you three meet us there in Newkirk's dressing room."

"You want Newkirk to be in disguise again?" Carter asked.

"I doubt that anyone will recognize him in the dark of evening, but it'd be a good idea for him to be in disguise—just in case," Hogan agreed. "The show starts at 1900 hours; I want us to be in Newkirk's dressing room at 1830 hours."

The men nodded, barely even taking note that the colonel was still using military time out of habit.

"Kinch, you and I need to get word to General Barton about what's going on here," Hogan said. "We'll have to use code; I don't want anyone whoever's behind this to find out that it is giving us a headache."

"Colonel?" Newkirk asked. "Do you think I could 'ave a word before you go?"

Hogan's eyebrows arched, but he gave a nod.

Kinch and Carter both exchanged glances and prudently retreated to the exterior of the apartment for a quick walk as LeBeau retreated to the kitchen. Hogan indicated the direction of the kitchen, but Newkirk shook his head.

"If I know Louis, 'e already knows what I'm about to tell you," the Englishman said. "Sir, I know you don't blame me for what's been going on with this new Springheel Jack, but I've been thinking. Me mate Roger probably told Mavis about this, and… Well, I'll get straight to it, Sir; she'll 'ave questions about this, and it's made me realize that while I do 'ave an obligation to you and the others, I also 'ave an obligation to Mavis. To be completely frank, I've got second thoughts about rejoining the operation."

The Englishman flinched as he heard the distinct sound of the teakettle being slammed onto the kitchen counter.

"You may as well get over 'ere, Louis," he said, sighing. "It's like I told the colonel; this ain't coming as a surprise to you."

"Oui, but I am sure it was no surprise to you when I demanded to return to France after I was told of de Gaulle's message!" the older corporal shot back, coming into view. "What did you do? You were the first one to try to convince me to stay on!"

"Calm down, LeBeau," Hogan said, stopping the fight before it began. He knew that this was not going to be one of their spirited banters, but a full-fledged argument.

"Calm down?" LeBeau repeated. "Pardon, Colonel, but you, too, tried to stop me from leaving!"

"And then I relented and said that you could go," Hogan reminded him. "Just like I did with Carter when he wanted to go back to see his girl. And the both of you relented and stayed on by your own volition."

The colonel looked from LeBeau to Newkirk.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat anything and say that it's all going to be fun and games in the revived operation, even if the war is over and Hochstetter is locked up," he said. "It's just as dangerous now as it was then. And even though I don't like the idea, I can't keep anybody in the operation if he wants out, providing he has a valid reason for leaving. That goes for you, LeBeau, and for Newkirk and any of the others."

"And I just said that I was 'aving second thoughts about rejoining," Newkirk pointed out. "I didn't give me letter of resignation yet! I just wanted the colonel to know that I might not want to stay on; I'm only thinking it over."

"Then you keep thinking about it, Newkirk," Hogan said. "My stand on this is the same as it's always been—I don't like the idea of anyone leaving, especially when I chose the members of my core team for specific reasons. But, in the end, I can't stop you; it's a volunteer operation."

He glanced between the two corporals. Since the beginning of the operation in Stalag 13, Newkirk and LeBeau had been in it together. If one corporal was to leave the operation, it would mean a significant loss of morale for the other; Hogan had seen it happen with Newkirk after it looked as though LeBeau was going through with his plans to return to France. Had LeBeau not changed his mind, there would've been every chance in the world that Newkirk might have followed suit and left next.

Hogan also knew that LeBeau would not let Newkirk leave so easily now. An argument would be inevitable between them once he left the apartment; he would have to tell Carter to moderate it and hope that things settled themselves. As much as Hogan hated to admit it, it was out of his hands now.

"Take all the time you want to make your decision, Newkirk, but don't let it interfere with your performance on the current mission," he said. "We'll see you at your dressing room tonight."

"Right, Guv'nor."

The colonel took his leave, hoping that the unavoidable argument would lead to something positive.

LeBeau waited for Hogan to be out of earshot.

"So…" he said, folding his arms. "You are having second thoughts."

"Louis, come on," Newkirk said, not really in the mood for justifying his actions. "You understand where I'm coming from, don't you? I've got to look after me sister, and you've got your restaurant to look after, don't you?"

"My restaurant will be able to go on without me for as long as the missions require," LeBeau said. "And your sister is a big girl; she can look after herself while you are working, non?"

"It's not that she can't look after 'erself; I'm sure she could do just fine on her own if she had to, but…"

Newkirk sighed, looking to his friend in the hopes that he, of all people, would understand.

"Louis, I'm the only one she's got left," he said. "You've got a brother and two sisters, all older than you, and you've got your parents. They can support each other, even if you 'ave to take leaves to go on missions. And I'm sure you can count on them to 'elp you keep your restaurant afloat if you're going to be gone a long time."

"And you don't think that Mavis can do without you?" LeBeau asked. "Are you not underestimating her?"

"Louis, she's been waiting for me to come back 'ome ever since I was first thrown into Stalag 13," Newkirk explained. "And I won't lie; in the back of me mind, I always wanted to come back to the life I left behind. It's been nearly two years since the war, and I've been content and 'appy coming back to this life."

"You certainly visited me in Paris a lot for someone who enjoyed being back in London…"

"That's because you're me little mate, ain't you?"

"Oh, yes? Well, your 'little mate' is here in London on a mission, and he will go wherever the missions go," LeBeau pointed out. "What will you do then? Will you go to the Red Lion with that Roger, who is such a close friend to you that he had to ask you if you were this Springheel Jack?"

"Roger only asked that because 'e knew I was a thief before the war," Newkirk explained. "We all were—the whole gang. We 'ad to steal to stay alive; if it was 'is sketch in the paper, the lads would've been asking 'im the same thing, and I likely would've asked it, as well."

"Oh, how nice!" LeBeau said, sardonically. "If I had been in Paris and saw your sketch in the paper, I would have come up here just to curse at that alleged eyewitness and defend you—mon pote!"

"I believe you would," Newkirk said, not denying it.

"Then why do you not see that your place is with us? Yes, I missed my family while I was in Stalag 13; I thought about going back every time I received a letter from my poor mother about how my father and sisters were working while my brother lay in the hospital! And I know I will miss them now! Did I let that stop me from joining the operation again? No! So why must you think you are different from me?"

Before Newkirk could respond, there was a knock on the apartment door, which soon opened.

"Um, hello?" Carter asked, peeking inside. "Hey, did you two know that you're loud enough to be heard down the hall? You don't want the neighbors complaining to the landlady. And more than that, you don't want to spout any classified information to someone who isn't supposed to hear it."

LeBeau muttered something in his own tongue and folded his arms. He was mostly done with his piece, but had refrained from saying that it wasn't just a sense of duty that had made him agree to join the team again. In all honesty, he had missed working with the others as a team—especially Newkirk and Carter. Seeing them on visits was one thing, but working together again, especially in a situation where they were no longer prisoners of war, was something that had had been very appealing.

But with Newkirk possibly backing out, it was beginning to lose its appeal for LeBeau, as well.

Carter looked from one corporal to the other with unease, and suddenly realized that he was about to be caught in the middle of this argument.

"So, I heard that you're having second thoughts, Peter?" he ventured.

"Nothing that you and Louis 'aven't experienced yourselves," Newkirk reminded him.

"But we eventually stayed," LeBeau reminded him again. "Is that not so, André?"

"Well, sure," Carter said. "But you can't really blame him, can you? Not that I want him to leave, but I'm sure he wouldn't even think about leaving unless he had a very good reason."

Newkirk looked to Carter in gratitude. He had hoped that at least one of the two would understand, and it looked as though Carter was the one.

"Thank you, Andrew," Newkirk said. "And it's like I told the Guv'nor; I 'aven't made up me mind one way or the other. I'll still be participating in this mission, and by the end of it, I'll let you know."

LeBeau grunted. That gave him some time to try to influence his younger friend, at least.

Newkirk gave a sigh and sat back down at his little kitchen table, thinking about what he had to do—and the decision he had to make. If it was going to be like this, always dealing with Gretel or someone else trying to slander his name, he wasn't sure he could enjoy it—not while Mavis would be all too aware of what was going on. He still hadn't spoken to her at all since the sketch had been printed in the paper.

And then there was LeBeau's role in this turning point. Newkirk understood where the Frenchman was coming from; he had felt the same way, after all, when LeBeau had wanted to leave. When LeBeau changed his mind, Newkirk had silently let out a thanks to whoever or whatever had caused the Frenchman to change his mind. And they had said no more about it after that.

And, at Carter's request, they were not saying anything about it now. Carter's idea was to let Newkirk think about it for as long as he had to; he was certain that, given the time to weigh all of the pros and cons, Newkirk would eventually decide to stay with the team as he, Carter, had done.

As they headed towards the magic theatre again (with Newkirk in disguise as Hogan had suggested), LeBeau had to make a conscious effort not to say anything. In his case, it had taken Hogan's offer of helping LeBeau free an underground agent to bring him back for a little while. It was after the caper had been pulled off successfully, and after he had been given a chance to think. But LeBeau was certain that if Hogan had not convinced him to come back initially, he would have kept going.

The three were suddenly jolted from their thoughts by a shrill scream.

"THIEF! THIEF!"

"What on Earth—?" Carter wondered.

He was cut off by a figure dressed in blue ducking out of the alley, carrying a gold chain in its hand. Even in the twilight of evening, the figure's hair and eyes were unmistakable… except that the person with those features was already beside him.

The hazel eyes of the familiar-looking stranger leered at them. His lips curled into a smirk, and, to the amazement of the trio, he spat out a flare of fire out of his mouth, as though taunting them. He then leaped straight into the air, landing on a trellis above a shop. He threw a crumpled ball of paper at the trio and proceeded to make his escape by hopping from trellis to trellis. Carter hastily picked up the paper and unfolded it, holding it for the others to read.

"Dear twin, I say to you, don't fuss;
"London's too small for the both of us.
"So you'll take the blame for this attack.
We'll meet again. Signed, Springheel Jack."