"I'm surprised you know about Carter," said Staller, after a few seconds of tense silence. "To be honest, I thought he'd have kept quiet about it."

"He did," replied Hogan curtly. "I heard it from someone else."

"Mills? Oh, I remember him." The corners of Staller's mouth turned up. "A little indiscreet of him, wasn't it?"

He tilted his head slightly, as if expecting Hogan to share in some private joke about Mills. A confident man, Staller, with an open, likeable manner, clearly accustomed to making a good impression on new acquaintances. But Hogan already knew enough about him to resist any friendly overtures. The tinge of malice in the man's attitude just topped it off. Mills wasn't fair game, and Staller might as well accept that right now.

"Mills gave me the outline, but only after I'd worked out part of it for myself," said Hogan. "We had one of the men involved through here, not long ago. Sergeant Jackson."

"Ah. I see." Staller breathed out, the smile fading. "That must have been interesting. How'd Carter take it? Not well, I guess. He was pretty unbalanced last time I saw him."

"We dealt with it. But it's not happening again." Hogan leaned back against the ladder and folded his arms.

Staller bit his lower lip. Apparently outright hostility was not what he was used to. "You can't refuse the assignment," he pointed out. "This is a serious matter, it could break up the whole Underground organization at Düsseldorf. If that happens, the next one to fall could be Hammelburg. And that's getting real close to Stalag 13. Are you going to endanger your whole operation, just to save one man from embarrassment? Is Carter worth that much to you?"

There was a long silence before Hogan answered. "Carter's part of my team. I look out for him, the same as I do for all my men. But you're on the wrong track, Staller. I don't want you around Carter, but if it's necessary, he can cope with it. My problem is with the way you handled the matter. It doesn't inspire confidence."

"I did the best I could, under the circumstances," replied Staller.

"No, you didn't. You went for the obvious solution. You assumed that Carter was the problem. That was a major error in judgement, and in my book, it flags you as a security risk. Any man who could do what you did is someone I don't trust. I'm not sure I want to take a chance on you screwing up this operation by making another wrong decision at a critical time. The fact that I don't like you just makes it easier to say so."

"Look, I'll admit I'm not proud of how I handled Carter's case," said Staller. "But I still think it was the best way to deal with it. The story had to be kept under wraps, for all kinds of reasons. The situation at the 182nd was complicated - more complicated than you know." He paused, glancing along the tunnel. "Is there somewhere else we can discuss this? I'm not anxious to be overheard."

There was a long silence before Hogan conceded. He didn't want to listen to any excuses from this man. But the situation in the Düsseldorf Underground operation had to be resolved, and Staller was part of the solution. If he had any kind of justification for his actions in regard to Carter, then regardless of his own feelings Hogan had to take it into account.

He didn't speak, just turned and walked away, leaving Staller to follow or not, as he chose.

Kinch looked up as they reached the radio room. "Newkirk and Mills have gone up to the barracks, Colonel. And LeBeau was down here, he wants to talk to you. Klink's got another meeting in town."

"Where's Carter?"

"Didn't see him." Kinch glanced curiously at the stranger, sensing the tension that had arrived with him.

"This is Major Staller," said Hogan brusquely. "There's a few things I have to sort out with him, so I'll show him to his quarters. I'll speak to LeBeau in the morning."

Kinch hadn't so much as blinked, but he recognized the name, and the glance he sent towards Staller had none of the usual warmth he displayed towards visitors. "Should I check on Carter?" he asked.

"Not yet. When he shows up, send him to bed. This way, Staller."

"You've got a pretty neat set-up here," observed Staller, as Hogan led the way to the underground sleeping quarters. Hogan didn't reply. He was in no mood for small talk.

He gestured towards the nearest cot. "Sit down, and start talking."

Staller sat, and ran one hand through his hair. "There was a security problem. That's the reason I was assigned there in the first place. I was with counter-intelligence back then. We found out there was a leak at the 182nd, information was finding its way to Germany. I was assigned to take care of it."

"What kind of leak? And what's it got to do with Carter?"

"Nothing - not directly, anyway. The thing is, the 182nd was involved in a special operation. Has Carter, or Mills, ever said anything about Project Cadmos? No, they probably wouldn't - it was top secret. I can't say anything more about it, but it was well advanced when I was there. It was big, Hogan. It could have made a real difference to the air war in Europe, if it had worked out."

"Obviously it didn't."

"No. But at the time, it was looking pretty good. So when we found out the Jerries had gotten a man inside the squadron, it had to be dealt with. We were just getting close, when that happened."

"It wasn't Carter's fault."

"I'm not saying it was. But it was a serious threat to my assignment, and to Cadmos as well. Any inquiry at that time would have put the whole squadron under a cloud, and possibly sent the spy to ground. I couldn't risk it, I had to make sure Carter kept quiet."

"You could have gone about it differently," said Hogan quietly. "If you'd told him what was at stake..."

"At that stage, for all I knew he was part of it," Staller cut in. "He'd just escaped from Germany, they could have turned him. Just because they'd gotten one guy on the inside, doesn't mean they wouldn't send another if they had the chance."

He hesitated, glancing sideways at Hogan, before he went on. "I had a man on one of the bomber crews. He'd been working on the case for eight months, and he was within days of cracking it."

"Which crew?" asked Hogan sharply. Staller went red, and looked away. "Jesus Christ, Staller...!"

"He wasn't involved," Staller interrupted. "But he knew what they were up to that night. It wasn't an easy decision for him, he'd just gotten to the stage where the rest of the crew trusted him. If he'd interfered, all that might have gone for nothing, and we'd have been back to square one. And Carter was only there by accident. As far as my man knew, his crewmates had someone else lined up."

"Yeah, I know about that." Hogan's voice grated as he replied. "Kid of nineteen or so. He shot himself afterwards. That doesn't make it any better."

"Look, you said it yourself, just now. You have to look out for your own men. He was in an impossible situation. On top of that, there had been a previous incident - a woman in the town. My man had helped cover that up. Any further trouble, and his part in that would have come out. So tell me, Hogan, what would you have done, if it had been one of your men?"

Hogan shook his head, slowly. "None of my men would have allowed something like that to happen," he said. But in spite of his wholehearted rejection of the idea, he knew Staller had found the one argument that he couldn't counter. He'd always assumed that if the need arose, he'd do whatever it took to protect his team. Suddenly he found himself wondering how far he'd be prepared to go, if it came to the crunch. Damn it - this bastard was too clever.

Staller didn't press the point. "I know it sounds brutal, but the fact is, what happened to Carter wasn't really significant, compared to the big picture. Anyway, the damage was done, as far as he was concerned. Nothing was going to fix it. And even if he had decided to make a complaint, can you imagine what it would have been like for him, giving evidence? They'd have taken him apart."

Hogan knew that, too. "That's not the point, Staller," he began angrily.

"Who was it?"

Neither of them had realized they weren't alone. Carter was standing in the entrance, still in his German uniform.

"Who was it?" he asked again, as Staller just stared at him. "Your guy in the squadron, which one was it?"

"Lieutenant Mason," said Staller, after a lengthy silence.

"Yeah. I remember him." Carter paused, his eyebrows drawn in. "He was okay. I mean, I thought he was..." He stopped, slowly developing the anxious look that meant he didn't quite get something that was perfectly clear to everyone else around him.

"What happened to him?" he asked, after a pause. "Did they transfer him, too?"

"The whole crew was transferred. The CO wasn't satisfied with how things played out, I think he knew there was more going on than he was being told. Mason went to another bomber squadron, in the north. Got shot down over the Channel. He didn't make it."

Hogan pressed his lips together, suppressing his instinctive response. To say what he thought could only hurt Carter. But whatever it was that Staller had said or done - and Hogan was starting to form his own opinion as to what that might have been - it hadn't changed the outcome. He'd added an extra layer to Carter's torment, for no significant result.

A decision had to be made. Hogan had known for some time which way it was going to have to go, and a quick exchange of glances told him Carter understood, too. But neither of them had to be happy with it.

"Okay, Staller," said Hogan at last. "Get in touch with your man in Düsseldorf. But whatever you work out with him, you run it past me first. Because I'm taking full charge of this mission, Major. As long as you're at Stalag 13, you answer to me."