Following evening roll call, the team regrouped in Hogan's office.

Hogan stood in front of the window, his arms folded. "Okay, what have you got?" he asked. "Kinch, you first."

"Not much so far, Colonel," said Kinch. "I've been in contact with Kurt in Hammelburg. Burkhalter's car crash has gotten his staff running round in circles, so his aide won't be going into the Hofbrau for a chat with the barmaid for a while. But he did drop a hint to her, the last time he was there, that Burkhalter had been involved in some kind of altercation with the Gestapo recently, and had gotten the better of them. That ties in with what Mills told you."

"Any information on the crash?"

"The staff car left the road on that straight stretch coming up to the bridge at Flensberg, rolled down the bank and ended up in the river. Lucky for Burkhalter, there was an army convoy passing at the time. Some of them stopped to help, pulled him out of the water and got him to the hospital in Hammelburg."

"You're having us on," Newkirk put in. "There isn't a safer bit of road within a hundred mile radius. You'd have to be blind, or blind drunk, to put the car off the road there."

"Well, the driver didn't make it, so we can't ask him," said Hogan. "Where's the car now, Kinch?"

"Still lying under the Flensberg bridge, what's left of it," replied Kinch. "I guess they'll get round to salvaging it, but from what Kurt's heard, it's a write-off, so they're not going to be in any hurry over it." He tilted his head slightly as he read Hogan's expression. "You think maybe it was tampered with?"

"I'm not sure. It's hard to buy the idea of driver error. He's been with Burkhalter for years, ever since the Germans went into Russia. He's had experience of some of the worst conditions you could come up with. Why should he drive off a perfectly safe, straight road and down an embankment, unless something caused him to lose control?"

"I guess so," said Kinch slowly. "Only it seems a lot of trouble for this Gestapo officer to go to, just so he can have another crack at Mills."

"It might not be only about Mills, or even about the rescue organization at Mendelburg. We know the guy's got history with Burkhalter. This is probably just the latest in a long line of confrontations. It was only a matter of time before one of them - Burkhalter or his pal - decided he'd had enough."

"Well, it saves us a bit of trouble, when the Krauts start doing each other in," observed Newkirk. "Bloody obliging of them if you ask me."

"Mills wouldn't agree with you," replied Hogan grimly. "So far, Burkhalter's been the only thing keeping him out of Gestapo custody. Now he's out of the picture. And no matter what caused the accident, it's an even money bet his old pal is going to be ready to take advantage of it."

He meditated for a moment, then changed the subject. "What about the Underground in Mendelburg, Kinch?"

"Couldn't reach them," said Kinch. "But I asked Kurt if he was aware of anything going on there that we didn't know about. He was a bit evasive, but I got the impression he knew, all right. Which, I guess, means there's a chance some of his people in Hammelburg are involved, too."

"Which is all we need," growled Hogan. He turned an unintentionally stern glare on the others. "How did you get on with the new prisoners? Were you able to pin down the source of the talk about Mills?"

LeBeau rolled his eyes, Carter flushed, and Newkirk uttered a sarcastic laugh. "Nobody seems to know who started it. Tom heard it from Dick, who heard it from Harry, who heard it from Tom."

Hogan's frown deepened. "Just like any other rumor. The damn things pop up out of nowhere, and spread like weeds."

"Well, this particular weed had a bit of help, Colonel," said Newkirk. "There was one name kept coming up as the chief propagator."

"MacNeill," added LeBeau. "He was the one who talked about it the most, and the attack on Mills was his idea."

Newkirk lounged against the desk, his eyes half-closed. " I had a bit of a chinwag with him today, along the lines you suggested, Colonel. It was him that originally told us about Mills, you might remember. So as soon as I hinted that we wanted Mills chucked out, he was very keen to help in any way he could. Only thing is, when I asked him if he could point me in the direction of the bloke who started the story, he said he didn't know, he'd just heard some of the others talking about it. I didn't like to press him about it in case he got suspicious, so..."

He broke off at a soft tap on the door, which opened to admit one of the other men. "Sorry to interrupt, Colonel. Thought you'd like to know, Klink's back from his briefing. He went into his office, but he must have sent for Gruber and Schultz, because they've just gone in there, too."

Hogan nodded. "Okay, keep watching. Kinch - the coffee pot."

Kinch was already plugging it in, while LeBeau arranged the speaker on the desk. A moment later, the sound of Klink's voice came through, with a certain brittleness which was not entirely due to the nature of its transmission. "Captain Gruber - Schultz - at ease. I have some important news. As you know, General Burkhalter's staff car was involved in a serious accident earlier today. The general suffered very serious injuries, and is now in the Luftwaffe hospital in Hammelburg. I have no doubt at all that he will make a full recovery in time."

"Sounds like he'd be happier if Burkhalter croaked," said Kinch.

Newkirk shrugged. "I'm not surprised. It's the first time in two years he's been out from under Burkhalter's ruddy great boot heel, so he's probably not looking forward to the overfed old bugger getting back into stomping condition."

He subsided, at an admonitory glance from Hogan. Klink was still speaking: "This afternoon, I was called to an emergency briefing of the Luftstalag Kommandants in this area. We have been advised that until the general returns to duty, or a successor is appointed, his administrative command will be overseen by General Radermacher of the general staff. However, as General Radermacher also has many other responsibilities, he has given orders for each Kommandant to take personal charge of all except the most serious matters relating to the administration of his camp. So for the time being, all important decisions will be made by me."

The reactions of his subordinates were clearly audible through the speaker. Schultz choked trying to suppress a snigger, and Gruber cleared his throat, abruptly and loudly. A few chuckles could be heard in the barracks, too, but Hogan, leaning forward with a look of concentration, remained serious.

Gruber made an effort and composed himself, although his voice was pitched higher than usual when he spoke: "Herr Kommandant, might I ask how the accident happened?"

Hogan's eyebrows went up. Burkhalter wasn't exactly well-loved by any of the men under his command. Even from a notorious apple-polisher like Gruber, such concern seemed out of character. However, Newkirk already knew what it sprang from, and gave a quick explanation. "The goons are running a sweep on it, Colonel. Gruber's money is on the front near wheel falling off."

"How about Schultz?" asked LeBeau.

"Driver swerved to avoid a Tiger Tank."

"...the actual reason may never be known," Klink was saying. "But you may be sure that there will be a full investigation, and any conclusions reported to the relevant authority."

This time it was Kinch who interpreted: "Which means the driver will get the blame, seeing as he's dead and can't defend himself. I wonder who got that in the pool?"

"That's all. Dismissed." Klink had concluded the meeting. The sound of Schultz's and Gruber's footsteps sounded, then the door opening and closing. Then silence. Kinch unplugged the coffee pot, and put the basket back where it belonged.

Newkirk lit a cigarette, narrowing his eyes against the smoke. "So who's this General Radermacher, then? Anyone know?"

"Whoever he is, it sounds like keeping an eye on the prison camps isn't a priority," said Kinch. "He's effectively left Klink in charge of Stalag 13."

"That'd be bad news even on a good day." Hogan rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, let's sum up. We know there's an informer somewhere in camp, but we don't know who it is - yes, I know you all like MacNeill for it, but try to keep an open mind. We've got Burkhalter out of action, leaving Klink in full control of Stalag 13. We've got Mills in the cooler, with information in his head that could get a whole lot of good people shot, including us. At any moment, some Gestapo creep might turn up to get that information out of him, by whatever method he considers appropriate. And we don't even know the bastard's name."

Carter, who had remained unusually silent up till now, suddenly spoke: "What are we gonna do about Mills, Colonel?"

"I don't know yet," replied Hogan. "As long as he's in the cooler, seems to me there's not a lot we can do."

"But - but we're not gonna let the Gestapo get him, are we?" Carter's voice went up in his agitation. "I mean, sure, I don't like the guy, but he's already had the third degree once, and you know what they do with fellers who won't talk. You can't just let them take him away."

Hogan met his accusing gaze with a faint, rueful smile. Then he glanced around at the others, finding reproach, dissatisfaction and disapproval on all sides.

"You might as well know, Colonel, I'm with Carter on this," said Kinch.

LeBeau nodded. "Moi aussi."

"And that makes it unanimous," concluded Newkirk.

Hogan's smile grew warmer, and his eyes were bright with satisfaction. "I already knew that, but I'm glad to hear you all say it. As it happens, I'm not planning to leave Mills to his fate. I don't know how we're going to do it, but one way or another, we're going to get him out if this."