Hogan took a deep breath weighing his words before speaking. "I doubt he's a plant. London has followed his work with rockets for a long time. And it took a lot of planning to get him away from them. If he'd been a plant, we wouldn't have run into so much trouble rescuing him."
"Still he's dangerous and shouldn't left to wander alone down here," Tiger insisted.
"I completely agree, and he hasn't been alone so far and I'll continue to make sure someone is always around," Hogan promised. His immediate concern was how to keep the two from killing each other until he could get François to London.
"You're bothered because of the short marriage we had," Tiger looked deep into Hogan's eyes. He nodded his head yes. "It wasn't a marriage made in heaven, more like purgatory. I never wanted to marry him, he disgusted me from the first time I met him. I had no choice and was only sixteen years old when my father forced me into the marriage. He owed a large gambling debt that he couldn't pay. The person who owned his marker was going to start taking it out on my five brothers if my father didn't find a way to pay. He promised to kill one of my brothers a week until the debt was paid or my father ran out of sons. I don't know how my father found François, but he had money and would only pay off my father's debt if I married him. When I looked at him all I could see was a dirty old man and he made me sick to my stomach. He's fifteen years older than I," Tiger stopped shuddering at the memory. "As far as I'm concerned, I was never married. I was a slave."
Hogan put an arm around her. "I promise you, he'll never hurt you again. I'm so sorry; I had no idea that he was the François you'd mentioned before."
Tiger held a finger to his lips stopping his next words. "How could you? François is a very common name. It's my fault for never telling you the whole story. Our time is so precious and little that drudging up old ghosts stories never seemed appropriate, so I thought it could wait until after the war. The here and now is what is important. I'm sorry for the things I said to you earlier. I didn't mean any of them. You would never have done anything to harm me."
"Don't apologize," Hogan reached in kissing her. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? It's too cold for you in the tunnel. Once I handle things down here I'll join you."
"Oui," Tiger relented then went over to the bunk bed entrance and climbed upstairs. She knew she couldn't trust herself to be alone with her husband down here. She'd have to get François out of Stalag 13 before dissolving their marriage in whatever shape that took.
Hogan watched her disappear over the edge of the frame and closed the entrance. Running a hand through his hair, he didn't know what he felt at the moment. If he'd known Tiger was married, he'd never had started a relationship with her. Even though she thought she was a widow, it bothered him as their earlier activities filtered through his mind. If she had been a widow, it would never have bothered him. As LeBeau said, she was a beautiful and dangerous woman and until this was settled, he'd have to keep his hands to himself. He had no idea how this would turn out personally. What was he going to do with her husband? Hogan grimaced thinking of François as her husband. The stories each told of their so-called marriage were completely opposite of each other and he was inclined to believe Tiger. With purposeful strides, he went to the back of the tunnels where Kinch and the others had the scientist corralled. François was sitting in a chair; arms crossed, scrawling, and still not speaking.
"Is Tiger all right?" LeBeau asked as Hogan entered the room. LeBeau stood with his arms crossed glaring at François.
"Yes, she's upstairs," Hogan replied as he studied the man in question. He picked up a chair turning it backwards straddling it. "We need to talk."
"I don't understand. She looks like my Marie, but she definitely didn't act like her. How could she even be alive? I'm at a loss. I buried her," François answered, appearing confused and frightened.
"She says the same thing about you," Hogan answered.
"How did she get out? Where has she been? Why didn't she try to find me if she was alive? What has happened to her?"
Hogan wasn't going to tell the man anything Tiger had confided in him. "I don't know. What I do know is that it's best if the two of you stay separated for now."
"I want to talk to my wife!" François demanded, angrily.
"And we'll arrange that. However, until she's willing to speak with words instead of sharp implements, I suggest you give her space. Perhaps tomorrow we can try to broker some type of truce and you'll be able to talk to her. In the meantime, you're free to do as you please down here. I'd suggest getting some rest. Don't try to come topside without an escort. Someone will be around to tell you if it's safe," Hogan said standing up. He knew right now, he'd get nothing out of the man. Heck, he was still trying to get his mind wrapped around the situation. As if having to worry about Carter living and Gestapo spies in camp weren't enough. "Gentlemen, if you'll come with me." His men followed Hogan out of the area quietly until they were far enough away to not be overheard.
"You can't just leave him down here! Shouldn't we lock him up? Obviously he's not trustworthy if Tiger had such a reaction to him," LeBeau asked, his eyes flashing angrily.
"Right now, he hasn't done anything to warrant being locked up or under armed guard. London still needs his expertise and the sooner we can get rid of him the better. Kinch, tomorrow contact the underground and see if they can take him off our hands. In the meantime, I want someone down here at all times. He's not to be alone. Is that understood?" Hogan ordered.
"Tiger thinks he's a bloody monster. Isn't that enough to lock him away?" Newkirk asked. Hogan gave him a stern look. "How do we know Carter getting shot was an accident now?"
"Everyone needs to take a step back and calm down. We'll get this sorted. There's no reason to assume François is anything more than a scientist forced to work for the SS. Until we know more, he's to be treated as a guest not a prisoner. Is that understood?" Hogan repeated. Newkirk and LeBeau reluctantly agreed. "Who will take night watch?"
"I will stay with him tonight," LeBeau declared.
"I'll stay with Louie," Newkirk offered.
"I don't mind staying, sir. Then I can make those inquiries with the underground," Kinch said.
"LeBeau and Kinch, you stay. Newkirk upstairs," Hogan ordered. He didn't need two hot heads watching the man right now. Kinch would ensure cooler heads prevailed.
Newkirk protested but Hogan reminded him that Carter would need him tomorrow. "Sir, I could tell you didn't know about them being married. How are you handling the revelation?" Newkirk asked as they left the others and headed upstairs.
"Honestly, I don't know yet," Hogan replied as the ladder dropped. A simple rescue mission was what London described. When did anything they were involved in ever turn out to be simple?
François paced the tunnels trying to come to terms with what had happened. Marie being alive was something he'd never considered. The fire burned so hot that no identifications could be made of the few skeletal remains found in the debris. She was here, alive, as beautiful as ever; and regardless of whether she liked it or not, she still belonged to him. It wouldn't take him long to remind her that her brothers were alive only by his generosity ensuring she would take her rightful place by his side, or they'd suffer for her indiscretion. Of course, he'd have to punish her for that public display of anger and attempting to stab him. He'd require her to account for her every action since they'd last been together; especially how she got out of the apartment so he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Marie had made a couple of attempts to run away early in their marriage, but he'd thought he'd handled that errant behavior. Perhaps he'd been too generous with allowing her to go to the market by herself once a week. From now on, he'd keep her on a shorter lease never allowing her to be out in public alone. He'd thought keeping her locked inside the apartment without a key to get out would teach her to obey without question, allowing him to reward her occasionally. After all, it was her fault for him having to take such drastic measures in the first place. Obviously, it didn't work and he wouldn't make that error again.
He thought back to the fire. The story he'd told Hogan and his men, he had told so many times that he nearly believed it himself. When he got to the building that day, all he could think of was his work going up in smoke. Cursing Marie for not throwing his work out the window, he tried to go in the front of the building but the flames were too hot so he went around the side. He started to enter the stairwell when a box lying in the grass caught his attention. Instead of going inside, he went to investigate only to find it was tossed rubbish. That's when the second explosion occurred, so, in a way, the trash had saved his life. Had he been inside he might have perished. A fireman made him move away from the building and people started consoling him for the loss of his wife. He did mourn her death, as she was the one possession that he couldn't replace, and he'd paid a lot for her.
François sat down on his bunk with a grin on his face. Now he had Marie back, and Hogan would ensure she obeyed his every command as a good wife always should.