In the early hours of the morning, LeBeau crept out through the emergency tunnel, and returned half an hour later with Kurt from Hammelburg, and another man. In the radio room, where Hogan and Kinch were waiting, Kurt introduced him as Dieter, one of a small number of the Düsseldorf Underground who had evaded the Gestapo net and fled to Hammelburg.
"What's the damage, Kurt?" asked Hogan, getting right to the point.
"They've taken Cecilie," replied Kurt with equal brevity. "Others as well, but she's the critical one."
"She is the contact point between our group and Hammelburg," said Dieter. "She knows everything - names, addresses, locations of supplies..."
"She knows my people," added Kurt. "And she knows about Stalag 13."
Hogan nodded. "I've done business with her. Do you know where they took her?"
"No," said Dieter. "Some of the prisoners are in the Gestapo cells at Düsseldorf, but she and two others were taken away by car. They took the Berlin road, but that doesn't mean they went to Berlin."
There was a moment of silence, while Hogan assessed the likely situation. "If they manage to break her, then we're all in deep trouble," he said at last.
"My people are preparing to leave Hammelburg, Colonel," Kurt put in. "Unless you have any ideas, it might be wise for you to consider evacuation of Stalag 13."
Hogan didn't reply. He folded his arms, frowning. Finally, he looked at Dieter. "What, if anything, do you know about a Colonel Eisner?"
"I don't know the name," replied Dieter, after a moment of thought.
Hogan looked at Kurt, who shook his head as well. "Is he important, Colonel?" he asked.
"He may be," replied Hogan. "For the last month or so we've been intercepting covert reports being sent to Eisner from someone within the Underground at Düsseldorf."
"A traitor?" Dieter's eyes widened, then turned hard.
"It's okay, he's been dealt with." Hogan paused, watching the man's reaction.
"Who was it?" said Dieter at last.
"Karl Weber." Hogan kept his voice level.
"Karl?" Dieter's voice dropped away in disbelief. "No, that is impossible. It must be a mistake."
"No mistake," said Hogan. "He had a meeting with one of my men yesterday, and didn't bother letting us know he'd invited the Gestapo along. Fortunately things didn't go according to plan, as far as he was concerned."
"I can't believe it," murmured Dieter. "We were told he had been working for the Allies since before the war. Our contacts in London assured us..."
"There was a substitution," Hogan cut him off. "The real Karl Weber was killed, this man took his place." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a sudden movement from LeBeau, for whom this was news as well. "Before that he was operating in England. Look, I know it's a shock to you, but Weber's out of the picture. For now, we need to focus on Eisner. He's the man Weber was reporting to."
Dieter took a deep breath, and shook his head. "The name means nothing to me, Colonel."
"Okay. How about a Gestapo creep called Faulmann?" said Hogan.
"There is a man in Hammelburg, a Kriminalinspektor of that name," offered Kurt, still standing in the background. "Is he involved in this matter?"
"He may be." Hogan pushed his cap back, as he considered the likelihood. "Faulmann was in charge of Weber's support team at yesterday's meeting, and he happened to mention that Eisner was expected in Hammelburg at any time. Now, that raises a question, as far as I'm concerned."
"What's up, Colonel?" asked Kinch, leaning forward on the radio desk, trying to work out what Hogan was getting at.
"It's just this," replied Hogan. "What's Eisner actually coming to Hammelburg for? Just to meet up with Weber? Not likely. It'd make more sense for Weber to go to him in Berlin. On the other hand, if Eisner just wants to be in on the final stages of the Düsseldorf operation, he'd go to Düsseldorf, not Hammelburg. There's got to be some other reason for him to go so far out of his way."
Kurt was quick to follow his reasoning. "You think that's where they have taken Cecilie and the others? If so, they weren't taken to Gestapo headquarters. We monitor all arrivals there, and it would certainly have been reported to me. But they may have other locations we are not aware of. It would be almost impossible to find out, unless we had someone on the inside."
"And you don't?" asked Hogan.
"Unfortunately, no."
Dieter had brightened a little as he listened, but at that his shoulders dropped. "So we have no way of knowing."
"No," said Hogan, after a few moments of silence. "No way at all, as far as I can see."
Kinch glanced quickly at LeBeau. The Frenchman had seen it, too. Hogan might be able to fool most people, but his men knew him too well. They could tell he'd thought of something, but whatever it was, he didn't like it.
"Then we can do nothing," said Dieter quietly.
There was a long silence. Kinch, keeping his head down, continued to watch Hogan's face. Not a flicker of emotion passed over it.
"You've thought of something, mon colonel," said LeBeau, when the tension became too great to bear.
Hogan's expression tightened. "Maybe," he admitted. "Give me a minute."
He started pacing, his every move followed by four pairs of eyes. Finally he stopped.
"Dieter, you'd better stay here for now, we may need you," he said. "LeBeau, take Dieter up to the barracks, and show him where he can sleep the rest of the night, then come back down here. Kinch, you get on the radio to London, ask them to have the sub ready to make an emergency pickup at the usual place in - let's say thirty-six hours. If you can't get through immediately, keep trying. Kurt, come with me."
Leaving his men to carry out instructions, he headed off towards the storage room where their prisoner was being held. He came to a stop where the tunnel branched off.
"Kurt, at this stage it's best if Dieter doesn't know this. But you might have noticed, I never said Karl Weber was dead."
Kurt gazed at him, a glow of anger kindling in his eye. "He's here?" he said.
"He's here," replied Hogan. "Hold it." He moved quickly to block Kurt's advance. "I know how you feel, but we need him alive. That doesn't mean we can't put the fear of God into him, if we have to. Before I can make any definite plan of action, there are a few questions I need answers to. It's just possible that Weber knows where they've taken Cecilie, and that could save us a lot of trouble."
"I understand, Colonel," said Kurt after a few moments. "For now, I will go along with you. But later..."
"Later, he'll answer to a court in London," Hogan interrupted. "And when he gets there, he might be persuaded to give up the names and locations of other German agents operating in England. That's worth more than whatever payback you or I might want to dish out on him now. Remember, we're in this for the long term, Kurt."
He left it at that. Kurt, sensible and level-headed, could be trusted to follow instructions once he'd gotten over his initial fury. Hogan turned, and went on to the storage room.
"Take a break, Newkirk," he said. "Go and get some shut-eye."
Although he looked as if sleep couldn't come too soon, Newkirk still put up an objection. "I'm not completely done in yet, Colonel, if you need me..."
"I need you to be in good shape tomorrow, Newkirk. It's going to be a busy day. LeBeau's had some sleep, he can take over when we're finished here." Hogan gave him a nod, and jerked his chin towards the tunnel.
"Blimey, you'd think a man couldn't stay awake for twenty-four hours without..." Newkirk's voice faded off into the distance.
Kurt was studying Weber's bruised face. "I see your men weren't exactly gentle with him," he remarked.
"He gave Mills a little trouble," replied Hogan. "And Mills gave it right back. I'd call it self-defence."
Weber avoided meeting their eyes. He looked exhausted, and Hogan might have started to feel sorry for him, if he hadn't been aware how little pity this man had for others. He gestured to Kurt to take the seat Newkirk had vacated, and pulled up a stool for himself, so that they were sitting one each side of Weber.
"What do you want from me?" mumbled Weber, looking up without raising his head. He was speaking English, and the American accent was just as disconcerting for Hogan as it had been for Mills. The man had no business sounding as if he'd gone to school with Andy Hardy.
Still, Hogan kept his cool, and spoke lightly, as if to a casual acquaintance. "Just a little chat, Weber - that's what you're calling yourself these days, right? My friend Kurt here and I have a little problem, and you might just be able to help us out with it. And I think you'll find it's in your best interests to do just that."
"Go to hell." But Weber's eyes flickered momentarily towards Kurt.
"That's right, you haven't met Kurt, have you?" said Hogan. "Let's just say he's a colleague of Dieter's. You know Dieter, right? Or at least, you know Cecilie."
Weber didn't say a word.
"Where is she?" growled Kurt.
"You'll find out," Weber shot back. "It won't be long before you join her there. I know her, she won't hold out for long."
"Now, that's where the problem lies," observed Hogan. "Obviously we're not going to hang around and wait for that to happen. So we've got two choices. Either we rescue Cecilie and the others before the Gestapo have a chance to work them over, or we cut our losses and get the hell out of here. And if we go with option two, then there's a couple of loose ends that need to be finalized first. You're one of them."
Once again, Weber was silenced.
Kurt smiled slightly. "Colonel, it would make me very happy to be the one to take care of that task."
"You and Dieter can work it out between you," replied Hogan gravely. "I'm not anxious for any of my men to have to deal with it."
Weber stared at him. "You wouldn't..." he whispered. "You can't kill a man who's completely at your mercy. It would be..."
Hogan cut him off. "I'll admit, Weber, it's a last resort. I don't want to have you on my conscience for the next twenty years, I'd much rather ship you back to England, and let them decide what to do with you. But if we have to wind up our operation here, then my options may be limited. Perhaps if you were to help us out a little, we'd be in a better position to cut you some slack." He paused for a moment, to give Weber time to consider the offer. "Where have they taken Cecilie?"
Weber didn't answer immediately. His eyes moved back and forth, and his mouth twitched, as if he were arguing with himself. "What guarantee do I have that they won't just hang me as a traitor when I get to London?" he asked at last, in a low, hoarse voice.
"You're only a traitor if you're American," replied Hogan, tilting his head slightly. "If you're German, then you're just a spy. Which one are you, Weber?"
"German," said Weber fiercely. "My mother married an American, after my father was killed in the war - by Americans. They left me with my grandfather, until he died, then I had to go and live in the States." He spat out the last few words as if they had a sour taste.
"Well, that explains a few things," murmured Hogan. "Okay, here's how it looks, Weber. If we send you to London, I can't guarantee how things'll go for you. Maybe they'll cut you a deal. They'll be pretty anxious to find out who your contacts were while you were at the 182nd. On the other hand, if we don't, then I can tell you for sure how you'll end up." He gave Weber another few seconds. "Where's Cecilie?"
"I don't know," muttered Weber sullenly. "Faulmann's in charge of that."
That was probably true, Weber hadn't been directly involved in the arrests. Hogan changed tack. "Tell me about Eisner. He's your boss, right?"
"I report to him," admitted Weber.
"What's he like?"
Weber's eyes narrowed, as he considered what that question meant. "If you're thinking of having someone impersonate him, you're way off base," he said, an edge of contempt creeping into his voice. "Just because Faulmann hasn't met him, doesn't mean he's going to accept any guy that shows up as the real thing. Not without proof, anyway."
Hogan smiled, and stood up. "Thanks, pal," he said quietly. "You just told me everything I need to know."