The information LeBeau had picked up at Klink's dinner table made it clear that the matter of the Düsseldorf informer had to be resolved, fast.
Hogan wasn't happy about it, but for now he had no choice but to assume Staller was reliable, at least until more information could be obtained. That wasn't going to happen soon. So when the colonel assembled his men in the barracks that afternoon for a briefing, Staller was among them.
Carter stayed on the edge of the group, in spite of efforts by LeBeau and Newkirk to bring him forward. But Kinch quickly came to his rescue, unobtrusively engaging him in a quiet conversation which seemed just confidential enough to prompt the other men to leave them to it, while Mills distracted the other two by opening a debate on the relative merits of their respective countries' national cuisine. Both discussions were cut short, as Hogan called for everyone to pay attention.
"Adams, watch the door," he said. "The rest of you, gather round." He nodded to Carter, who was obviously hesitant, and after a moment Carter came forward, and sat on the end of the bench already occupied by Newkirk, LeBeau and Mills. Kinch set his shoulders against the edge of the upper bunk directly behind, close but not too close. It might have been unintentional, but he couldn't have found a more effective way to demonstrate to Staller, without pressing the point, that here, at least, Carter was among friends.
"Okay," said Hogan. "As you all know, the Düsseldorf Underground has picked up a nasty dose of Nazi infiltration. The bad news is, the Krauts' informer is about to pass on another message to his friends in the Gestapo. The good news is, he's still using Klink as his go-between, which means we have the chance to intercept the report before it gets any further. Now, thanks to our little kitchen elf..." He grinned at LeBeau, who scowled fiercely in reply. "...we know that Klink is meeting the informer at the Hofbrau on Saturday night."
"Any chance we can stop Klink from leaving camp?" asked Newkirk.
"We could," said Hogan slowly, "but it'd be more useful if he went along, and gave us the chance to identify his contact. Staller, your man in Düsseldorf - we're supposed to be getting him out of there, right?"
Staller, frowning slightly in thought, didn't answer at once. "That was the original idea," he said at last. "But we've had a lot of discussions about whether it's possible to keep him in Düsseldorf. He's in a position of trust in the Luftwaffe intelligence office there, he's got access to a lot of high-level information. On top of that, he's been able to protect his colleagues in the Underground from detection, up till now. I don't want to pull him out, if we can avoid it. Of course, if he's at risk, it's another matter."
"Who is he?"
"His name is Weber - Karl Weber," replied Staller. "German by birth, but lived in the States for a number of years. He went to Yale," he added inconsequentially.
"Well, we needn't hold that against him," said Kinch.
Staller looked displeased at the interruption, but let it pass. "He came back to Germany after graduation, got drafted almost immediately. When the war started, he got in touch with some old college buddies in Washington, and started passing information. He got himself a post in Luftwaffe intelligence, then about six months ago he was transferred to Düsseldorf."
"And you're sure of him?" Hogan asked the question as if it were routine. But so far they hadn't confirmed anything about Staller's inside man at 182 Squadron. Kinch, at least, was aware of the doubt in the colonel's mind.
Staller recognized it, too. "Weber's credentials are pretty well established," he said. "I've only handled him since he came to Düsseldorf, but he dealt with other officers in my unit before that, and he's always proven reliable. You don't have to take my word for it. If you contact headquarters, you'll find a dozen people who can vouch for him."
Hogan had every intention of doing just that, but he didn't let on. "How are you supposed to get in touch with him?"
"Ideally, I'd prefer to go to Düsseldorf in person. But if that's difficult, there is a recognition code that can be used by telephone."
"Always risky," Hogan interrupted. "His phone could be bugged."
"Of course, we thought of that," replied Staller patiently. "Once the key phrases have been used, anything sensitive is coded. In any case, he would check for microphones as a matter of routine. What's on your mind, Colonel?"
Hogan didn't answer at once. "We need to get Weber to Hammelburg," he said at last. "Whoever the mole is at Düsseldorf, he's probably going to recognize him. So if he can be at the Hofbrau on Saturday night…"
"I get you." Staller pursed his lips in thought. "It might be possible." He was silent for a moment, frowning. "We can try it. But I need to talk to him first. You have any arrangements for use of a telephone?"
"The one in the Kommandant's office. We distract Klink for a few minutes, get him out of there, and get you inside," replied Hogan.
"And you're sure the Kommandant's phone hasn't been tapped?"
"Well, it has, but only by us." Hogan smirked at the look on Staller's face.
"So the plan is to let the handover go ahead, right, Colonel?" put in Kinch. "And retrieve the envelope when Klink gets back here, like we did before."
"That's the idea, Kinch." Hogan leaned back, folding his arms. "But it won't be as easy as last time. Klink's planning on having a guard in there round the clock until Stieffel comes to collect the report. So we'll need a diversion for that, too."
"Begging pardon, Colonel, but once the report's here, why not just get Carter to put on his Gestapo act and get Klink to hand it over?" suggested Newkirk.
"No," said Hogan. He glanced at Carter, who looked back with a faint, troubled frown, his color rising at the apparent brush-off. It was true, Hogan wasn't completely confident of Carter's ability to pull it off, in view of the stress he was under at present, but that wasn't the deciding factor. "If we did that, Stieffel would be asking a lot of difficult questions when he turned up and found nothing waiting for him. Substituting a report of our own is safer. And that means getting the guard out of the office, so we - that is, you, Newkirk - can get into the safe. Carter..."
Carter straightened up. "Yessir?"
"How are you fixed for smoke bombs?"
"Don't have any right now. But I can make some up real quick. You want delayed action, or...?"
"Nothing elaborate, Carter. Just something that'll make it look a lot worse than it is, when we set fire to the Kommandant's quarters," replied Hogan with a grin.
A laugh went round the barracks. Even Staller joined in, once he'd gotten over the surprise. Carter didn't, but he relaxed into a one-sided half-smile. He might not be completely on the ball elsewhere, but in that field of expertise he was still the first one Hogan turned to.
"First things first," Hogan went on. "And the first thing is...football."