Newkirk stood silently for a moment, blinking at Carter as if unable to believe he was really there. "That was quick," he murmured, almost to himself.

The next moment, a small whirlwind of rage descended on him. "Newkirk, que tu m'as fait peur! What do you think you are playing at? We have been all over Hammelburg trying to find you, fils de garce!"

"We waited all night, and we never heard from you," Carter put in. He was still clutching Newkirk's sleeve as if he was afraid to let go. "We were worried sick, when we heard what happened. Jeez, Newkirk, can't you keep out of trouble for ten minutes?"

Before Newkirk could gather his wits enough to reply, LeBeau was off again. "All day we've been searching. For all we knew, the Gestapo had you in a cell somewhere. Do you have any idea what we went through today?"

"If you want to attract attention," interjected Hogan, as he joined the group standing stationary in the middle of the passing foot traffic, "you're going the right way about it."

Carter looked ashamed of himself. LeBeau fell silent, but his eyes still blazed.

"It's okay, LeBeau," the colonel went on. "I moved the car from the middle of the road, and got rid of the guy that just ran into us. You're welcome." LeBeau went scarlet, and lowered his eyes; then, with an inarticulate exclamation, reached out to grasp Newkirk's arm.

Hogan turned a keen glance on Newkirk. "You okay?"

"I am now, sir." Newkirk's shoulders dropped a little, and a weary smile briefly crossed his face. He looked far from okay, but Hogan let it go.

"Where's Bayreuth?"

Newkirk looked puzzled. "I forgot I said that," he said, after a moment. "I left her at the Weinkeller. Bruno's keeping an eye on her. Colonel, there's something..."

"Later, Newkirk. You've seen Blackbird?"

"Just on my way back from there."

Hogan's expression darkened. "Then we'd better get to the Weinkeller, fast."

He didn't let Newkirk speak again until they were in the car. "What happened at Blackbird's place?" he asked, once they were underway.

"Blackbird, sir?" Newkirk rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. "He got on the radio to Kinch, and a message came back that I was to go back to the Weinkeller, and wait for you."

Hogan's eyes met LeBeau's in the rear-view mirror. "Can you get us there any faster, LeBeau?" he said grimly.

"I will get us there, don't worry," LeBeau replied.

Newkirk stared at the colonel, clearly at sea. "Colonel, what's up?"

"Blackbird didn't contact Kinch," said Hogan. "We shut down the radio a couple of hours ago, after we found the Gestapo in Sonnenstraße. So if Blackbird says Kinch sent him a reply, then Blackbird is lying."

It took a few seconds for Newkirk to grasp the significance of this. "Oh, sodding hell, they'll know where she is," he whispered.

"Take it easy, Newkirk. We'll get there," said Hogan.

For a moment, Newkirk seemed bewildered. Then he shook his head. "Stop, LeBeau," he said abruptly.

Hogan contradicted him at once. "Keep driving."

"No, wait a minute, Colonel. I have to tell you something about her, about who she is. It's important."

"You can talk on the way." Hogan kept his voice calm. "Who is she?"

Newkirk took a couple of deep breaths. "Her name's Elise."

"Nice," said Hogan. "Pretty name."

"You won't like the rest of it," replied Newkirk, with a hollow laugh. "Elise Hochstetter."

The staff car came within inches of another rear-end collision, as LeBeau hit the brakes.

"Keep going, LeBeau," Hogan snapped. Then he turned back to Newkirk. "Well?"

"She's married to his brother. Says her husband's the source of the information she's been supplying, and that their cover's blown and she has to get out of Germany. Until we arrange it, she won't give us the information." Newkirk bit his lower lip; his nervous tension was obvious.

"Do you believe her?"

"I don't know. After Gretel - after the last time..." His voice broke off, and he looked out of the window. "She's his sister-in law. We don't know anything about her or her husband. Hochstetter was at the hotel. There's all kinds of reasons to think she's setting us up, but...Colonel, I have to go back, I promised I'd go back. But I can't tell you if she's on the level, because I just don't know."

Hogan watched him intently. "You're overthinking, Newkirk," he said. "Stop trying to reason it through. What does your gut instinct say? Do you believe her?"

"Yes." The reply came instantly.

"Then let's get her out of there."

Newkirk let his breath go, and finally relaxed.

"I guess we know now why Hochstetter's not in charge," observed Hogan, as he fitted the new information into the existing pattern. "With the family connection, I'm surprised they let him anywhere near it."

"She thinks he's the one that shopped them." Newkirk leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. "Wouldn't surprise me if she's right."

"What about the husband?"

"He was making his own way to Sweden, but I don't like his chances."

The Weinkeller was in a narrow side street, and LeBeau had to go a little way further along before he could park. "Stay here, and keep the motor running," Hogan told him. "You stay too, Carter. Newkirk, come with me."

He noticed, as they crossed the street, that Newkirk was limping slightly. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"Came a cropper on the river bank, after we left Sonnenstraße," Newkirk replied with a slight grimace. "Must have come down harder than I thought."

He went into the bar first. Hogan, following, was glad to see that apart from the barman, the only person there was the woman they'd come to fetch. If the Gestapo did turn up, it was best if they didn't find anyone. Newkirk headed straight for the table where Elise was waiting.

"Okay, princess," he said encouragingly. "Everything's fine, now."

She wasn't what Hogan had expected; slender, medium height, badly dressed, probably attractive when at her best, but so drawn and tired-looking that it was difficult to imagine. She looked up at Newkirk with a scowl. "You took your time, again."

"Barely an hour. You're not going up in the air about that, are you?"

Her eyes had wandered past him to Hogan, and she froze, eyes wide with alarm. Newkirk glanced at the colonel, and said reassuringly. "It's alright, this is the governor."

"But..." she faltered, still staring at Hogan's uniform.

"I know. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I'm not in the Luftwaffe, either." Newkirk's voice had taken on an edge of sarcasm; it jolted her out of her state of shock into one of petulance.

"I never thought you were," she snapped back. "They have standards."

"So do I, love. At least, I did have, before I met you."

Hogan moved across to the bar, where the barman was casually polishing glasses while he watched the blossoming dispute. "Bruno, you'd better close up and make yourself scarce," he said quietly. "The Gestapo could be right behind us."

"There's a problem?" Bruno, a skinny little man from Alsace, peered at him; the thick lenses of his spectacles magnified his eyes in a manner which took some getting used to. His accent was sometimes difficult to follow; Germans thought he sounded too French, LeBeau reckoned he sounded too German. To save trouble he generally spoke to Hogan in the English he'd learned from watching American movies.

"Big problem. Don't contact Blackbird." Hogan saw from the look on Bruno's face that he understood; the man was as sharp as they came.

Hogan turned to the combatants, who appeared to be entering the second round. "Excuse me," he said. "When you're both finished, it'd be nice to get out of here before anyone turns up who we don't want to meet."

Newkirk held up his hands apologetically. "Sorry, Colonel, but I've had to put up with this all bleedin' day, and it gets a bit wearing after a while."

Before either Elise or Hogan could reply to this, the door swung open, and Carter irrupted into the bar. "Colonel, we got company."

"Damn!" muttered Hogan. He strode to the door.

"Hochstetter?" said Newkirk. Without thinking, he took Elise's hand as she moved closer to him.

"Him and the other one - Rohmer, the one in charge. Bruno, where's the back entrance?"

"There isn't one," replied Bruno. "The owner had it bricked over. People were sneaking out without paying."

"Isn't that a fire hazard?" said Carter. "Boy, I'm never drinking here."

"As things stand, you may never get the chance, Carter. Watch the door." Hogan turned back to Bruno. "Any other way out?"

"The cellar door, but it's double padlocked from outside." Bruno looked worried.

"They're at each other again, Colonel," Carter reported. "Gee, they really don't like each other, do they?"

"What's to like?" said Newkirk.

Hogan cut across this. "Carter, come here - Newkirk, the door. Okay, Carter, it's not so long since you did your German general bit for Hochstetter. Do you think you can change it slightly, just enough to fool him again now?"

"Oh, sure, Colonel," replied Carter in a matter-of-fact tone. He was perfectly confident about it. Whatever it was that kicked in, whenever he did this, it always seemed to work; even Klink, who saw him every day in camp, never recognised him.

"Good. You're now Colonel Tauber," said Hogan, taking off his top-coat. "You're interrogating Bruno, and you're not very happy at the interruption. The people who were here left when you arrived." He regarded Carter thoughtfully. Even though so far he'd somehow always escaped Hochstetter's notice, it wouldn't hurt to have an extra layer of disguise. "Bruno, give him your glasses."

"He won't be able to see through them," Bruno pointed out.

"Doesn't matter. He won't need to. When they get here, don't say anything. Leave it to Carter."

Carter was rapidly buttoning the jacket Hogan had taken off and given him. It was to be hoped Hochstetter and his fellow Gestapo wouldn't notice Colonel Tauber's uniform was a little too big. He threw the topcoat over his shoulders, and put on Bruno's glasses. "Holy cow!" he exclaimed, screwing up his eyes.

"Heads up." Newkirk closed the door and turned away, with a suppressed gap as the movement jarred his injured leg.

Hogan nodded. "Into the cloakroom," he said. "Frau Hochstetter..."

Elise, who had been standing dumbstruck by the turn of events, gave a start. Newkirk held out his hand. "Come on, no time for standing about." He grabbed her arm and followed Hogan into the small alcove, screened by a curtain, to the left of the door. Carter pushed Bruno back towards the bar, and stood facing him.

A few seconds later, the door opened.

"The bar is closed," said Carter coldly, without taking his eyes off Bruno.

"Nowhere is closed to the Gestapo." The voice was unfamiliar, but the attitude was the same as every one of them. Carter turned, with a look of pitying scorn.

"New at the job, are you, Captain?" he inquired. "Colonel Tauber, Abwehr. I don't care to be interrupted at my work."

Rohmer wasn't taking that; there was no love lost between the two agencies. "We have information that two enemy spies are on these premises," he said.

Carter allowed his gaze to wander across the empty tables, blinking a little behind the thick lenses. "Invisible spies, apparently. Very clever, these Allies."

"We are quite sure they were here. A woman, blonde, one hundred sixty centimetres, slender build, very attractive, and a man, approximately one hundred eighty centimetres, dark hair, foreign accent."

They know about Newkirk, thought Hogan. Blackbird must have told them. I'll have that bastard, when I get the chance. He glanced at Newkirk, who was leaning against the wall, breathing fast. Elise was huddled against him, with her face hidden against his shoulder. They might not like each other, but whatever they'd been through together had made her trust him, all right.

"Yes, they were here when I arrived," said Carter, after a moment's cogitation. "Very suspicious characters, both of them. They left."

"You didn't stop them?" Rohmer stuttered indignantly.

There was a long silence before Carter replied. "You really are new at this, aren't you, Captain? My business is with this man; I had no reason to stop them. The Abwehr doesn't provide a safety net for incompetent Gestapo. No matter how much you need the help." He turned his attention back towards the barman. "They went off to the left, towards the river. Close the door on your way out."

Rohmer remained where he was, apparently paralysed with anger. But it was Hochstetter who replied. "Colonel Tauber, the Abwehr may find soon that it needs more than a safety net. If I were you I wouldn't start any long-term investigations."

He turned to his colleague. "Whenever you're ready, Captain Rohmer." The icy contempt in his voice spoke volumes. "If you don't want them to walk all the way to England before we catch up, I suggest we move quickly."

Rohmer glared at him, then snapped a salute in Carter's direction. "Heil Hitler!"

Carter returned the salute without showing the slightest interest. He watched them leave the building; maintained his persona for a few extra seconds, then snatched the glasses off and rubbed his eyes fiercely with the heel of his palm. "They're gone, Colonel." He blinked several times, trying to bring everything back into focus.

Newkirk limped over to the door, and peered out through the frosted glass panel. "They're still hanging about," he said. "Arguing, from the look of it."

"Yeah, they're doing that a lot," replied Hogan. "Which is good, but doesn't get us out of here." He glanced at Elise, as she dropped onto the first chair she came to; then he turned his attention to Bruno, and a thoughtful crease appeared between his eyebrows.

"Hochstetter and that other geezer are off," Newkirk reported. "Towards the river, like you told them, Andrew."

"Yeah, I just said that because LeBeau's in the other direction," replied Carter, still trying to get his eyes back to normal. "Is it all clear?"

"No, they've left a couple of men to watch the place. Sorry, Colonel. Things haven't gone well today."

"Boy, you can say that again," murmured Carter.

Hogan folded his arms, still meditating. "Not your fault, Newkirk. Anyway, I think we can deal with it. Bruno, can I have a word?"

"You should go sit down, Newkirk," said Carter, squinting at him. "You look all in. I'll watch the door."

Newkirk shook his head. "Don't fuss, Carter." He sent a quick look at the colonel, who was conferring quietly with Bruno. The discussion didn't take long. Bruno nodded in agreement to whatever had been suggested, and went behind the bar.

"Okay," said Hogan. "I've got a plan, but for it to work, everyone needs to do exactly what they're told to do. Understand?" He looked directly at Carter as he spoke.

"Sure, Colonel." Carter tilted his head slightly, his eyes fixed on his commanding officer.

"Good. Because this is a direct order, Carter, and you're to follow it to the letter. In a few minutes, you and Frau Hochstetter will walk out of here, get in the car and go straight back to camp." He turned to Elise. "You're about Bruno's height and not much thinner, so you'll be wearing his pants and jacket. It should be enough to get you past those guys out there. If they ask, Carter, you're taking Bruno in for further interrogation."

"Colonel," interrupted Carter, "what about the rest of you?"

"Not your problem, Carter. Your job is to get the lady back to camp."

"You're staying behind?" Carter's eyes widened as he took this in.

"For now. The first priority is to get Frau Hochstetter to safety, and that's your responsibility."

"Couldn't Newkirk...?"

"It's an order, Carter. Understood?"

"Understood, Colonel." Carter's voice was a little unsteady. He turned towards Newkirk, tried to speak, then just shook his head. Newkirk smiled ruefully.

"Andrew, it's alright," he said. "You'll see, we'll probably get there before you do."

"Sure you will." Carter started fiddling with the decorations on the colonel's jacket; they seemed to require all his attention.

Bruno, his modesty protected by the high counter, had taken off his pants; he held them out towards Elise, who seemed dazed by the turn of events.

"Go and change," said Newkirk. "Don't go all shy on us now, darling."

She glared at him, snatched the pants from Bruno and vanished into the cloakroom. A couple of minutes later she came out, clutching the top of the trousers which were very loose around the waist. "This just keeps getting worse," she remarked. "If anyone should see me like this, I will never live it down."

"She's back on form," muttered Newkirk. "Let's have a look then, princess." He studied her with a professional tailor's eye. "They're a poor fit. Good job you wear braces, Bruno. Let's have the jacket, and see how it sits."

Once the jacket was on, with the collar turned up and Elise's hair tucked inside, it wasn't so bad. Bruno's hat completed the disguise. "There you go, love," said Newkirk. "You look charming. Now, off you go. My mate Carter will look after you from here on, and you'll be glad to know he's much more of a gentleman than I am, and knows how to take care of a lady."

He sent a warning look towards Carter. You'd better know how to take care of a lady, Andrew, was the silent message.

Carter read it correctly. He took Elise's arm, and tried to hide his distress; and if he didn't quite succeed, at least he had made the effort. "Colonel, what if they follow us?" he asked seriously.

Hogan had taken Newkirk's place at the door. "Then LeBeau will just have to lose them. But they won't. Their orders are probably to watch the building. One thing they don't encourage in the ranks is initiative. If Stalin walked past, those two would ignore him and keep watching the building."

He turned to Elise. "Keep your head down, and don't make eye contact, and you'll be fine. Newkirk, kill the lights. We're closed for business."

Straightening up, and lifting his head, Carter got back into the shell of the Abwehr colonel. He tightened his grip on Elise's elbow, and steered her out onto the street. The two SS men were lounging against a car almost directly outside the building; at sight of the colonel, they came to attention.

Carter regarded them with scornful amusement. "Very good. Anyone would think you were real soldiers. Are you waiting for someone? Reichsführer Himmler, perhaps?"

"Bitte, Herr Oberst," replied one of the men, "our orders are to watch the building." Hogan's exact words; he'd read them like a book.

"And you're doing an excellent job," said Carter acidly. "I will mention it in my report."

He saluted, and strode past them, leading Elise towards the staff car where LeBeau was waiting. Yanking the door open, he pushed her into the back seat and got in next to her.

"Go, Louis," he snapped.

LeBeau stared at him. "Where are...?"

"They'll follow later." Carter's voice broke, and he passed a hand across his face.

"No. We can't leave them," said LeBeau forcefully.

"Colonel's orders, LeBeau. We're to go back to camp." Carter glanced over his shoulder, but the SS men had returned to their surveillance of the Weinkeller. Then he looked at Elise. His own ingrained courtesy, as well as Newkirk's parting hint, prevented him from saying what was on his mind, so he turned away, and gazed out of the window.

I hope you're worth it, lady, he thought.