"That lad's going to be just like you when he grows up, Colonel," remarked Newkirk pensively.
"If he doesn't turn into you on the way there," replied Hogan, with a grin.
It was late evening, back in the barracks. The mood was subdued, not at all like the general euphoria which usually followed a successful operation. This one had got too personal; they'd come too close to losing one of their own. But a general sense of contentment reigned, tempered only by the fact that they'd had to let Hochstetter off the hook.
He had been quick to grasp the opportunity, as soon as Rolf had identified Rohmer as the man he'd seen with Elise in Hammelburg. It was pretty certain Hochstetter knew the story was a complete fiction, but he'd reacted just as Hogan had expected.
"You said you were acquainted with my brother's wife, Rohmer. Very well acquainted, so it seems." Hochstetter spoke with the nearest approach to amiability he could achieve, and the effect was quite terrifying
"The boy's lying," Rohmer snarled, glaring past Klink, who remained, almost too scared to move, between the captain and Rolf.
"You think a mere child could invent such a story?" enquired Burkhalter, raising his eyebrows in amused skepticism. "It hardly seems likely, Rohmer."
"You know, General," Hochstetter said, in a mild, thoughtful tone, "there have been certain...irregularities about this investigation. It was almost as if someone was trying to sabotage the inquiry from inside."
"Gee, I wonder who would do such a thing," said Hogan.
"Hogan, be quiet!" snapped Klink.
"Well, I'm sorry, Kommandant, but after all the trouble and inconvenience we've gone through, it's a bit much to learn it was the Gestapo all along," Hogan's expression of wounded innocence was beautiful. Newkirk didn't dare look at him. "And it's not just us, sir. I mean, you're a busy man, you don't have time for these distractions. And General Burkhalter took time off from running the war, just for this."
"Herr General, this is a conspiracy," Rohmer broke in desperately. "If anyone has a reason to protect the woman, it must be Major Hochstetter. His brother..."
Hochstetter shook his head, with a smile of tolerant pity. "No, Rohmer. My brother was a traitor, and got what he deserved." His voice turned harsh, and his lips twisted as he spoke. "I can assure you, I have acted according to my duty throughout this affair. Whereas you, apparently..."
"That will do, Hochstetter." Burkhalter's cold acidic voice cut through the discussion. "This matter has taken up enough of my time. As it appears to be an internal Gestapo matter after all, I see no reason why you cannot continue your discussion at your own headquarters, and allow Klink to get on with his own work - at least, as much as he ever does." He turned his head, scrutinising Rohmer with disdain. "Under the circumstances, Rohmer, I think you should consider yourself under arrest."
Rohmer burst into fresh protests, but Hochstetter was already striding to the door to summon his men. He had the upper hand now, and meant to keep it.
General Burkhalter had moved on to Max. "Herr Beiersdorf, you will provide Colonel Klink with your details. In the event that Major Hochstetter requires any further information from you or your son, Klink will act as liaison. As for you two..." His reptilian gaze turned to Hogan and Newkirk. "You are dismissed."
"Well, that's us told, sir," murmured Newkirk.
He gave Rolf a thoughtful glance as he left the office in Hogan's wake. The boy had put on a beautiful performance, but Newkirk wasn't fooled; he'd been just the same at that age, and he knew Rolf had thoroughly enjoyed himself that afternoon. Hogan, who'd been something of a handful himself, recognised the signs just as clearly.
Hence the exchange of remarks later in the evening.
"She'll be almost at Düsseldorf by now." Newkirk, sitting on the bench by the table in the centre of the barracks, stretched out his leg, and winced. "If everything went according to plan, that is."
"I think we can trust Bruno to make sure it goes smoothly," said Hogan, leaning back and tilting his chair.
"Her, too. Considering what I thought, when I first met her..." Newkirk shook his head, with a smile. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then glanced up and met Hogan's quizzical look. "Alright, I know what you're thinking," he said. "But it never crossed my mind. Truth be told, Colonel, I didn't like her above half. Besides which, I was too bloody scared."
"Gretel?"
Newkirk smiled in acknowledgement, but didn't reply. That was over and done with; really over and done with now, he hoped.
"Colonel, can I have a word?" Carter had been standing behind Hogan for almost a minute, trying to get his attention. "It's sort of private," he added, with an apologetic glance at Newkirk.
"Oh, blimey, Carter, what have you been up to?" murmured Newkirk. "I'll have to start keeping an eye on you."
Hogan grinned, allowed his chair to right itself and nodded towards his quarters. "My office," he said.
"It's about her, Colonel," said Carter, as soon as the door had closed behind them. "Elise, I mean. Before she left, she asked me to tell Newkirk something. And I'm not sure I should say anything about it."
"What was it?" asked Hogan, tilting his head to one side.
"That's the problem. She didn't have time to tell me. But whatever it was, she really wanted him to know."
Hogan frowned as he thought through the possibilities. He went to the door, and opened it slightly. He could see Newkirk, holding forth to Kinch and LeBeau about goodness only knew what, looking more relaxed, and more at ease, than he had for six weeks past. Only three days ago, he'd been outside the circle; now he was back where he belonged, back where he'd been before Gretel Weiss had entered his life. If he'd saved Elise, it seemed she'd rescued him, as well.
That long night and day in Hammelburg had brought the two of them closer together in a short time than most people managed after years of daily contact. It wasn't impossible that Elise might feel something more than friendship towards the man who had brought her safely through, and that she might have wanted to let him know. But Hogan wasn't having it. Most likely she'd regret it, once she had time to think it through. Probably they'd never meet again. There was no point in stirring things up, just when they were settling down.
"Tell him she said thanks." Hogan spoke decisively. "That's all it would have been, Carter."
The last minutes of that hectic day ran towards midnight. On a railway platform, under a cold bright moon, a pretty, fair-haired woman and a skinny man with a strong Alstatian accent changed trains, on their way to the coast. Further east, an English corporal lay awake amongst his sleeping barracks mates, following their journey in his imagination. And in his office at Gestapo headquarters in Hammelburg, Wolfgang Hochstetter stood at the window, gazing out across the town towards the site of the Hotel Alte Residenz.
Only three days had passed, but it felt like a lifetime.
He had spoken the truth, when he told Rohmer he'd followed his duty. But duty isn't always clear-cut, and a man can have more than one loyalty. Hochstetter had given up every allegiance in favour of the Reich, except one; duty to family still had a hold on him.
The last conversation he would ever have with his brother still rang in his ears.
"Wolfgang? I thought we agreed, you wouldn't call me."
"It's urgent, Stefan. You can't wait until tomorrow. Take your wife and go, immediately."
"Elise is already in Hammelburg. Wolf, what's happened?"
"Things are moving faster than I expected. Stefan, you have to get out now."
"...No. I can't. Not until I know she is safe. Wolf, you have to make the call now. If you wait, you'll be under suspicion, too. You won't be able to help her. You have to save Elise for me. Please, Wolfgang. Save her for me."
And Wolfgang had promised to save her, if he could.
The situation had turned out better than he had feared it might, although he couldn't yet contemplate Stefan's death with composure. At least he'd kept his word, and Stefan's last request had been fulfilled. Elise was safe. Papa Bear knew his business too well for there to be any doubt.
Hochstetter would have preferred to see to her escape himself, if only she had been willing to trust him, instead of placing her faith in the unknown man at the hotel. Stefan had obviously never told her his brother was in on the escape plan. It had nearly ended in disaster for her, thanks to the RAF, but somehow, between them - the dark-haired foreigner, the as-yet unidentified Abwehr colonel, the barman at the Weinkeller - they'd pulled it off.
He'd even helped them, delaying Rohmer every step of the way as he tracked them through the town, holding back the information about the Luftwaffe disguise, keeping the witness Lehmann out of the picture. But there was only so much he could do, as long as she ran from him. It had taken someone cleverer, someone with better contacts than he could call upon, to bring the matter to a safe conclusion. All he could do to help was to make sure they acted fast, by applying a little pressure.
It had shocked him when Rohmer had insinuated there was more between Hochstetter and Elise than there should, or ever could, have been. Whether Papa Bear had known about that or not, he'd certainly turned the tables very neatly, and even if he'd had to slander Elise, it had been worth it to see the look on Rohmer's face. Poetic justice, thought the man for whom poetry had long been a closed book.
Hochstetter had no expectation of finding the boy and his father again. Their part done, they would disappear back into the general population. But it didn't matter. Let an investigation into Rohmer's activities begin, and something would soon be found to hang him with. Nobody in the Gestapo was entirely clean.
He wondered briefly about those three men. The barman was almost certainly part of the Hammelburg Underground; he'd never resurface. Hochstetter would have been prepared to put money on the probability of the Luftwaffe uniform having been worn by Newkirk, but he knew he'd never prove it. Colonel Tauber remained unidentified, for now.
I will find him. There was no doubt in Hochstetter's mind. With Stefan's death, the ties to family were broken, and his duty was no longer divided. From now on, he could direct all his energies towards the service of the Reich, and to one goal.
He would have them. One day, he would have them.