The meaning of the word 'spy' might vary slightly depending on the context, but usually it had to do with some kind of covert or secretive activity. Hogan was seeing none of that at noon roll call: on the step directly behind Klink, Marya stood waving her hand wildly as if he might possibly be able to avoid noticing her otherwise. In that voluminous fur coat and hat, she looked like a small grizzly on the fifty-yard-line cheerleading for the Chicago Bears. He did his best not to look in her direction as he stood and half-listened to the Kommandant's less than fascinating mid-day address… something about keeping the rec hall clean or there would be no movie that weekend; he couldn't really be sure since he was only listening with one ear. There was a strange bright light that kept flashing in his eyes; it was getting even more annoying than the combination of Klink's monotonous droning and Marya's over-the-top efforts to get him to look her way. He glanced towards the prisoners' laundry instead.

Standing beside Marya was the serious-sounding Herr Holtzmann of the night before, looking every bit as humorless as he had sounded over the speaker, probably with no idea why he was being required to review the troops, and still clutching that attaché case Klink hadn't been able to persuade him to store in the safe. Too bad. It could have been simple: were the case in the safe, Newkirk could have had his hands on it hours ago. Considering the hour the two of them had arrived, though, it had been impossible to make any kind of a try for it before dawn. And naturally Marya couldn't be counted on to actually help them… oh, she might say she was helping; might even believe it, but as far as doing something simple like maybe passing the case out an open window to them… no, that wasn't in her repertoire, not at all. Marya never did anything the easy way.

There was that flickering light again. Hogan squinted and looked to one side.

The one person who did look happy to see her was LeBeau, and he wasn't trying too hard to conceal his enthusiasm. Smiling broadly, jumping up in the air every so often to get a better look at her, even blowing her a discreet kiss or two until Newkirk elbowed him hard in the side and muttered something about throwing up. What could he possibly see in her? None of them had ever been able to figure it out, but she sure had their favorite Frenchman wrapped around her finger.

Her finger.

Doing his best to look away as he had been, Hogan had only just noticed the noontime sun bouncing off the ring on her left hand. And he realized that it wasn't his imagination, either… she was deliberately trying to send that light into his eyes. That was some rock, if it could do that from several yards away.

The moment she saw that she had his attention, Marya smiled, and raised her hand to smooth her hair. Then she glanced pointedly at the briefcase under Holtzmann's arm, her eyebrows arching like arrows toward the target.

Interesting. So was that what was so valuable about the case… was it filled with priceless gemstones? Not exactly their line of work… what would that kind of thing have to do with his operation? They were in the escape and sabotage business; they weren't jewelry wholesalers. Well, he suspected he'd know soon… Marya wasn't one to keep things to herself for long.

Finally Klink wound down, as he always did, with a salute and a harassed "Dis-missed!" Hogan waited, though, instead of proceeding back to the barracks with the rest of the men as usual. And he was right: here came Schultz.

"If you please, Colonel Hogan… the woman… she would like to see you in the Kommandant's office."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Although I do not know the lady well, I would say… definitely not."

"Did she ask for me too?" LeBeau asked eagerly.

"Why should she ask for you, Cockroach?"

"She adores me. She tries to hide it."

"She is doing very good at that." With a dismissive wave of his substantial hand in LeBeau's direction, like shooing away a pesky fly, Schultz indicated that Colonel Hogan should precede him to the Kommandant's office.

Oh well… had to happen sooner or later. Hogan steeled himself to the inevitable as he set his cap and took his first steps toward the gallows… uh, make that the office.

oo 0 oo

It was a little early in the day for a drink, but that wasn't stopping Klink… he was downing a schnapps in one swallow right as Hogan walked in, and being very careful to keep his desk in between himself and the Russian woman to prevent any unnecessary contact. "Thanks, I'd love one," Hogan substituted for a standard greeting.

"Hogan!"

"Allow me, Hogan darling." Marya poured him a matching glass of amber liquid, but instead of handing it to him she held it close to herself, leaning towards him and puckering her lips for a kiss. He couldn't reach one without being in range of the other, and it made him hesitate. "I understand…" she smiled. "Later… when we're alone…" This time when she handed him the drink there was no catch to it, and he accepted it. "You are adorable when you struggle to resist me."

"Um… yeah." He took a sip of the liquor, then turned to speak to Herr Holtzmann. "Colonel Robert Hogan, senior prisoner of war officer… nice to meet you. And you are…?"

"You drink with your prisoners, Klink?" Holtzmann demanded with disgust.

"A lot of strange things happen when she's around…" Klink mumbled into his empty glass.

"Hogan darling, this is Gussie Holtzmann… he means nothing to me."

Oh, for the day when he might be able to hear her say that applied to him. Did she think he was playing hard to get or something? Did she honestly not realize that he had no romantic interest in her at all? And taking it another step, did she not realize that she was on the short list of women he'd met since his incarceration that he could say that about with a straight face? "Herr Holtzmann," was all he said. "What brings you to our little stalag?"

"I will not be interrogated by a prisoner!" Holtzmann stalked to the door and opened it with the hand that wasn't still clutching his case. "I intend to be on my way as soon as possible. You may stay behind with your American friend if you wish, Marya!" His tone gave some idea what his preference would be.

"Excuse me, please, Fraulein…" Klink scurried to the door as well, still with the empty glass in his hand. "Herr Holtzmann? Please, I assure you, this is normally the best-run prisoner of war camp in all Germany…"

Ever the boot-licker, either Klink knew who this guy was and felt the need to impress him, or he had no idea who he was and was afraid he might turn out to be important. At the moment that made no difference to Hogan. He was entirely caught up in getting Marya off him. "Alone at last!" she sighed, pressing against him and hooking her arms around his neck.

He pushed her away. "Will you back off? We probably don't have very long before Klink comes back in; Holtzmann's doing his best to give him the brush-off… so hurry it up; what is it you wanted me to know about your boyfriend and his briefcase?"

"I told you; he means nothing to me!"

Hogan broke one of his cardinal rules and took her hand, but this time he had a good reason. He tapped the hefty stone set in her ring. "Oh yeah? Then what's with the engagement ring?"

She smiled and narrowed her eyes. "You are jealous."

Too bad she wasn't drunk… then there'd be an excuse for her behavior. As it was, she was stone-cold sober and he knew it very well. "C'mon, willya?"

"Anywhere with you, Hogan darling." But she was also bright, and she was pretty good about knowing just exactly how far she could push him before he really got irritated with her. "All right, all right…" She met his eyes, this time cutting out the flirtatious banter completely, instantly switching over to all-business. "What would you say if I told you that Gustav Holtzmann can make diamonds?"

Hogan thought for a moment. Not his area of expertise, but he'd heard some talk here and there. "Synthetic diamonds aren't exactly unknown. He's not the only one."

"Of course not. But he is the only one who has invented a way to dramatically accelerate the process. Not only faster, but his procedure costs fifty percent less than the way others are manufacturing similar stones… meaning less use of materials, time, and equipment."

It was beginning to make some kind of sense. Often he wasn't sure it ever would when Marya was concerned, but sooner or later she always stopped chasing her own tail and actually came right out and gave him the real reason why she was there. He gave a low whistle. "Oh boy…"

"You do know what diamonds are used for besides mere baubles?"

Did he ever. "They use 'em in weaponry… industry… manufacturing…

"And rockets."

He nodded. "Yeah. Just to name a few."

"So I do not have to tell you how important is the formula for the process that sad little Gussie has developed."

"No, but I'd still like to know why you brought him here."

"So we can work together!" she effervesced, a little too loudly for Hogan's liking. He made a move to shush her, not sure whether or not Klink and/or 'sad little Gussie' might still be right on the other side of the closed door to the outer office. "Really, Hogan darling, you may one day stop amusing me with your coy little games."

Hopefully. Maybe then she'd go off and find somebody else to annoy. But this baby was on his doorstep now, and he was going to have to deal with it. "And just what exactly is it that we'd be working together on… I mean, assuming I don't just walk out of here right now and leave you to handle sad little Gussie on your own?"

"Only to arrange an air strike on his factory outside Düsseldorf, to destroy any information on the process that he does not carry with him."

Hogan realized his mouth was open. "Oh, is that all? Do you think I can just hail a squadron of bombers like taxicabs at a hack stand?"

"You can do it, Hogan darling," she said slowly, with certain knowledge. Unfortunately, she knew enough about his organization here at Stalag 13 to know exactly what she was talking about… he had to give her that. He didn't have to like it, but for his own safety and that of his entire operation, he had to concede that point.

"And if I can…?"

She shrugged her shoulders with casual indifference. "Then all you will have to do is get Gussie to England. Prostoy."

"This just gets better and better… and if I don't help you?"

"Then Russia will be the only country with the accelerated diamond manufacturing process… did I mention I have already sent a complete copy of Gussie's plans to Moscow? And you will have missed a fabulous opportunity for the Allies to strike a blow to the Nazi war effort. Or, you may go now back to your little barracks and think of what you will say when later London asks you why you could not be bothered."

Blackmail too. She was really touching all the bases today. He set his lips in a firm, hard line, and nodded slightly. "Okay, I get it."

"I knew you would see it my way."

Pretty much like Poland had seen it Hitler's way. But he refused to let her hold all the high cards. "I want some proof that this process is everything you say it is before I commit the resources."

"Of course."

"I want a look at the plans, and I want a closer look at that stone." She immediately lifted her hand to stroke his cheek with the backs of her fingers, putting the ring a scant inch underneath his 20/20 vision, but he brushed it away. "Not like that… I want someone who knows what he's looking at to check 'em out. Somebody I know is on my side."

"Our side."

"My side."

She raised her own glass. "Truce?"

Did he have a choice? He lifted his glass with something less than total enthusiasm. "Okay, yeah, truce. But don't get any funny ideas."

She gave him a smooth smile as she touched the rim of her glass to his. "You are too late."

"That's what I was afraid of."