Hogan paced the tunnels trying to determine the best way to deal with François. He let out a mirthless chuckle remembering how François said he didn't require much when he first arrived. Seemed the man required a lot and enjoys throwing his weight around. He wondered how that worked while François was in SS custody. Or was he throwing it around now, because he was under strict control as a prisoner? That Hogan could understand. There were a lot of things he wasn't allowed to do as a POW that he intended upon doing as soon as he was free. However, he knew he wouldn't be demanding his way like François was doing. But then, Tiger said that François had always been controlling. He couldn't put this off anymore and went to find the scientist.
"Colonel, were you able to make the arrangements with London?" François asked as Hogan came into the room.
"They're still on radio silence, but will be on the air later today. I wanted to talk to you about Marie. She is adamant that she will not go to England," Hogan started.
"She's my wife and will do as she's told," François snapped standing up.
Hogan scowled, "She's an adult and makes her own decisions."
"She's a married woman," François started and stopped watching Hogan. "But of course you're correct, Colonel. This is a matter between Marie and myself and doesn't involve you and your men. If I could trouble you to have Marie's stuff brought down here, we'll work out our differences privately. Our customs may be foreign to you, but they are our customs and have worked for us for many centuries. A married woman will always do as her husband sees best. I'd ask that you respect our traditions even if you don't agree with them."
"I do respect others points of view. However, what Tiger does will be up to her. But I'll pass your request along to her," Hogan answered wondering if the man truly had a death wish. He really couldn't be that dumb and blind. It was getting harder to remain civil with the scientist.
"Where does this name, Tiger, come from?"
Hogan hesitated momentarily, "It's her underground code name."
"Underground? That's something she'll have to give up. It's not appropriate work for a married woman. What type of work did she do in the underground?"
"Those are questions you'll need to ask her. I'm not at liberty to speak for Tiger. Everything within the underground is compartmentalized, the less you know, the less you can reveal if captured," Hogan answered.
"That I can understand. Will you let me know when London can arrange our departure?"
"You'll be kept informed. It may be a few days, however," Hogan answered then left. He had no idea how to get through to the man for François to understand he had no control over Tiger. And there was no way Hogan would force Tiger to do anything. She was her own woman, who did as she desired. He doubted he'd ever be able to change François's mind, only Tiger would be able to do that and he hoped without violence.
Olsen leaned against the fence the woodpile backed up to, head down rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
"Are you all right?" A kind voice asked.
"Huh?" Olsen looked up to see Sergeant Pfeffer, a German guard, obvious concern on his face. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."
"You don't look so good. Should you go to the infirmary?" Pfeffer questioned.
"No, I just haven't been sleeping well. The lumpy paillasse isn't the best," Olsen answered with a quick smile.
"I know what you mean. The mattresses we have aren't much better. Mine is so hard that it's killing my back," Pfeffer rubbed his lower back then leaned against the fence next to Olsen.
"Wow, I thought the guards would have better accommodations," Olsen was surprised by the revelation.
"Well, it's much better than I had at the front lines. I'll deal with the hard bed to stay back from the fighting any day," Pfeffer laughed.
"Did you know the guard that died well?" Olsen's task this afternoon was to pump this guard for information. The guard's expression changed at the question.
"Ja and nein, we were bunkmates, but I had no clue he was Gestapo, or I would have told the Kommandant. What's confusing is why he'd be posing as a guard here," Pfeffer appeared slightly bewildered. He pulled out a cigarette pack, taking a smoke out then offering Olsen one.
"Dank," Olsen lit his cigarette. "What was he like as a person? I didn't have much association with him."
"A dedicated German, more so than many of the men around here. Guess we know why now. The sad thing is he showed me a picture of his wife and she's about due with their first child. Regardless of how one might feel about the Gestapo, his wife and baby will suffer. For her, I feel badly," Pfeffer said then inhaled a long drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke in and exhaling it through his nose.
"What a shame," Olsen shook his head then drew in smoke from his cigarette. Great, just great. Something else for me to feel bad about over his death, he thought blowing smoke out.
"I don't understand what the Gestapo would want with this place," Pfeffer said looking around the compound.
"Does anyone understand the Gestapo at all?" Olsen asked flicking cigarette ashes in the wind.
"I don't know," Pfeffer turned away tossing his butt to the ground. He lit another one. "Why are you not sleeping? You're not up digging tunnels all night are you?"
"Nah, all tunnel digging is done through the daylight hours," Olsen replied with a slight laugh. Pfeffer raised an eyebrow in question. "I'm kidding. Besides, I hate digging. I'm not a gopher."
"It's best to not try an escape attempt especially right now," the guard said seriously.
"Other than the obvious," Olsen gestured with his hands that he was a prisoner and Pfeffer a guard. "Why would you say that?"
"The Gestapo doesn't take lightly to one of their own being killed. So they're out in force trying to find the culprit. Anyone captured outside the wire very likely would end up in their custody. I'm sure that's not something you'd want to have happen," Pfeffer answered tossing his second cigarette butt to the ground.
"Definitely not," Olsen answered, although he was becoming wire happy. He needed to get outside to get his head straight. That's where he did his best thinking.
"Although I understand you wouldn't be comfortable discussing things with me, there are men of your own nationality around. Find someone and try to work out what has you not sleeping. Everyone needs a friend from time to time. And if I can help, I'll be around," Pfeffer said then walked away from Olsen to continue his assigned duties.
"So whatcha think of 'im?" Newkirk asked walking over to Olsen.
"He seems genuinely surprised that Waechter was Gestapo. I think Klink grilled him about his roommate. We can't know for sure yet, but I'd put him on the side of not being Gestapo," Olsen said yawning.
"The Colonel has a job he wants us to do this afternoon that will give us more definite answers. Why would you say Pfeffer's in the clear?" Newkirk asked still worried about his mate.
"He's always been friendly and nice; not overly so that would make me suspicious, but more along the lines of Langenscheidt. How many Gestapo agents do you know that are nice? What's the job?" Olsen asked stifling a yawn as he and Newkirk started moving towards the front of the camp.
"Not too many Gestapo even know the meaning of nice. You didn't get any sleep earlier, did ya?" Olsen shrugged his shoulders. "What are we gonna do with you? If you want to take a nap, I'll handle the job." Newkirk's green eyes showed worry.
"Nothing's wrong with me," Olsen snapped. "Let's get the Colonel what he needs." Newkirk explained their assignment as the two made their way across the compound to Klink's office.
"General Butler, thank you for taking the time to speak with me," Hogan said over the radio. He'd cleared his men from the radio room for privacy.
"Glad to help any way I can. What seems to be the matter?" the General's voice filtered through the headset.
Hogan explained that François and Tiger were married and neither knew the other was alive. Then he proceeded to say that Tiger wanted a divorce, which François flatly refuses and has ordered Tiger to accompany him to London. Hogan left out the part where Tiger nearly made her own 'divorce' with a knife. "Now, sir, François refuses to leave without his wife."
"Colonel, you come up with some of the strangest predicaments. I don't need to emphasize how much his expertise is needed. It could make a huge the difference in the war. Is there anyway the underground operative would be willing to come to London, so she could go through divorce proceedings? That way they could both have what they want. Who knows, after spending some time together they may decide to patch things up," Butler asked.
"I don't see any amount of time spent together healing the rift in their marriage. It was a shotgun marriage, and the shotgun was pointed at her. I can't and won't force her into a situation that puts her in danger. And frankly, being alone with her husband does put her into a dangerous situation," Hogan answered. Dangerous for both of them and anyone near them when they exploded he thought.
"I see," Butler was quiet for several moments. "We definitely don't want to put either in anymore danger than absolutely required. However, his knowledge of the new rockets makes some risk acceptable. Do what you can, play marriage counselor, try to at least call a truce until you can get them here. Tell the wife, I personally guarantee that I'll introduce her to a top-notch divorce attorney that will take her case for free. See if that will help her to come to London, so everyone gets what is needed."
"Sir, are you sure I can't just storm Berchtesgaden singlehandedly? It would be easier orders to accomplish than these," Hogan answered shaking his head.
"Do what you can," Butler ordered. Then added with a chuckle, "When you finish with Berchtesgaden, let us know and we'll give you a three day pass."
"Yes, sir," Hogan replied and disconnected the radio. He put his head down on the table. The General had no idea how much Tiger meant to Hogan, but he doubted that would make a difference in his orders. How was he going to convince Tiger to go to London with her husband?