Newkirk grabbed Tiger's hands fighting her over the knife, "Let go."
"Non, I will kill him!" She yelled as Newkirk took the knife away from her, forcing her backwards out of the room, Hogan guiding from behind.
"Salope!" François yelled starting to go after Tiger.
Kinch stood in his way, eyes blazing, "This way, now!" He herded the scientist in the opposite direction of the others.
LeBeau glared at François daring him to defy them. "What did you do to Tiger? How can you call her your wife in one breath and then that in another? What type of man are you? Are you even a man?" LeBeau threw at François shoving him towards the back of the tunnels.
"She tried to kill me!" François yelled, highly offended by their treatment.
"We know her very well and she wouldn't have responded like that unless provoked or without a really good reason. I suggest you explain yourself," LeBeau's eyes were so cold that they frightened Kinch.
"I don't have to explain myself to you. This is a matter between Marie and me," François retorted, angrily.
"I don't believe you're married to her. What other lies have you told?" LeBeau demanded standing intimidatingly close to the scientist. His gut feeling now validated in his mind. Why hadn't the others listened to him?
François fumed but didn't respond. Instead, he sat down on a chair crossing his arms refusing to speak. Kinch and LeBeau stood guard over him making sure he'd cause no trouble until Hogan decided what to do with him. LeBeau had a few choice ideas of his own what to do with the man.
Meanwhile, Hogan and Newkirk corralled Tiger into the radio room with difficulty.
"Why do you have him here? How can he be here? He's dead. He has to be dead," Tiger paced the length of the room in long strides. Newkirk thought she looked possessed with so much rage protruding off of her that heat could be seen in the air around her. He stood back a safe distance, blocking her from going back to where the scientist was.
"Tiger, ca…," Hogan stopped in mid-word as her head snapped up at him, eyes ablaze. He realized telling her to calm down at the moment would be detrimental to his personal health. "I don't understand. How do you know him?"
"How could you set me up like this?" she threw out, betrayal evident in her face and tone. Newkirk was taken aback by her question.
Hogan reached out to touch her arm but pulled his hand back quickly, swearing she growled. "Slow down. I didn't know you even knew him. I don't understand what's going on here. Talk to me. How do you know François?" Tiger marched back and forth making quick turns as she came to the room's end, living up to her namesake. At this moment, Hogan couldn't imagine of a more dangerous animal. He shared a bewildered look with Newkirk.
"Gov'nor, do something," Newkirk pleaded nearly panicking. Hogan looked over at Newkirk, who was standing on the opposite side of the room, telling him with his eyes he was trying. For the moment, they'd have to wait her out.
"Tiger," Hogan said hesitantly after about her fiftieth pass through the small room and her speaking in fast angry French had ceased. Most of the words he couldn't understand, however her tone expressed what she was saying without translation.
"Why is he here?" she demanded coming to a stop in the middle of the room.
"An assignment from London, they wanted him rescued from the SS and sent to England. He's been working on rockets," Hogan answered breathing a sigh of relief she was talking to him now.
"He should be dead! How is he not?"
"I don't know," Hogan replied. He noticed Newkirk's eyes still showed fear of Tiger, so for the moment he was keeping his mouth shut. "Why should he be dead?"
"He's a lying two faced bastard not to be trusted!"
At least they were getting somewhere with answers, but Hogan wasn't sure where that somewhere was at the moment. "Obviously, he's done something horrible. How do you know him?"
"He's my ex; well, I thought he was my ex. Give me five minutes and we'll be divorced!" Passionate anger filled her voice. "I saw him go into the building then it exploded. How did he live through that?"
"He said someone named Marie died in a fire," Newkirk said gaining a bit of confidence back.
"Obviously I didn't!" Tiger snapped glaring at the Englander. Newkirk opened then closed his mouth deciding he'd said enough.
"He called you his wife," Hogan started only to have Tiger turn on him.
"I'm nothing to that filthy pig! I was never anything more than a possession to be conquered in his eyes. A rag doll for him to do as he pleased," she stopped taking deep breaths lowering her voice. "Well no more. He will never treat me like a waif again, I'll see to it he's terrified to be in the same country as me."
"The pencil sharpener near his throat gave him that message loud and clear," Newkirk said almost regretting the words as they left his mouth.
"He'd be lucky to have his throat cut. Non, I will slice lower letting him bleed to death," Tiger's voice was calculating. Newkirk swallowed hard, his hands protectively moved to shield his manhood.
"I understand that he's seriously pissed you off," Hogan started, his mouth going dry. Tiger's glare didn't help matters. "But I'm trying to catch up here. Wife?"
"I've told you about him. He's the one," she stopped choosing her words carefully. "He's the one who caused the scar." She looked down unable to meet Hogan's eyes.
"Newkirk, would you check on the others?"
"Yes, Gov'nor," he understood they needed some privacy, and hoped Hogan knew what he was doing being alone with Tiger. Besides, Newkirk wanted to pummel whatever LeBeau had left of the bloody scientist for pissing Tiger off so much that he feared her.
Hogan instantly knew what she referred to; the only thing that caused Tiger shame. He reached out putting a hand on her shoulder moving both of them over to the bench to sit down. "Would you tell me about the last time you saw him?"
Flashback France 1937
"Marie, are you in there?" Isabella called out knocking on the door.
"Can you get me out?" Marie replied from the other side. Her face stained with tears.
"Oui, Rémy brought his lock picking tools," Isabella said as her brother worked on the lock.
"Hurry, he'll kill all of us if he comes back. He forgot his lunch, and he'll be home soon for it," Marie pleaded. A small suitcase stood next to the door and they would run as soon as it was opened. She'd covered the bruises on her face the best she could with makeup, but they were still easy to see.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Rémy opened the door. "Why does he lock you inside?"
"He's a pig! Oh Marie," Isabella gasp as she saw her friend. The evidence of the latest beating was one of the worst she'd ever seen the seventeen-year-old have to endure. "Do you have everything? You're never coming back here."
"Oui," Marie answered timidly as she pulled a scarf around her hair trying to hide her face.
"We should go out the back way," Rémy said as he reached down and picked up the suitcase then helped his sister get Marie to the stairs. "Someone should teach him a lesson of what a beating feels like."
"Non, he can never know you helped me," Marie begged as they started down the stairs.
"Don't worry, you're safe now. He'll never place a hand on you again," Rémy promised vowing to himself that François would pay. As they exited the far side, an explosion rocked the building. The concussive force of the explosion threw them to the ground knocking them unconscious for a few minutes. Rémy came to first and looked around. Fire had engulfed the first floor and the flames licked out of the structure like a bedlamite reaching for its victims. Marie came to next as Rémy was trying to awaken his sister. "Help me get her out of here!" Both picked up Isabella with an arm stretched over each of the shoulders. She moaned softly as they carried her to safety.
Fire trucks could be heard in the distance growing closer. People were yelling trying to get to the others trapped on the upper floors out, as the friends made a slow trek around to the side of the building to where the car was parked. While they placed Isabella in the backseat, two fire trucks came to a screeching halt between their side of the street and the building blocking them from view. Three men jumped off the truck stretching a hose to the fire hydrant. Marie and Rémy went around the fire engine to see what was happening.
"There are still people in there, we have to help," Marie said, but Rémy held her back. Both well aware if they'd tarried a moment longer before leaving the building, they'd been trapped inside.
"We can't. The firemen will get them out. We have to help Isabella," he tried to guide her back to the car.
"François!" Marie gasped trembling.
Rémy looked up in time to see François running towards the front of the building; he stood with his hands on the side of his head in shock. Then he ran towards the main entrance only to be chased away by flames; undeterred, he sprinted to the side entrance. Seconds after disappearing around the side, a second explosion brought what was left of the building down. "Come," he pulled Marie away and got her in the car then drove home.
"Isabella was all right after some rest. Three days later I boarded a train for Paris never looking back," Tiger answered. "Why did you not tell me he was here?"
"I did tell you we had a French rocket scientist we needed you to escort to the submarine. Why didn't you tell me you were married?" Hogan asked bewildered at that thought. He was not the type of man to sleep with a married woman.
"François is my past. A past that was to always remain buried. One thing I can promise you, nothing he says you can believe. The face he presents in public is charming and proper, but the truth in private is vile and deceitful. I would not put it past him to be a plant by the SS to capture you and your men," Tiger's expression emphasized her fear for Hogan's safety.