They parked Klink's staff car right next to Holtzmann's disabled Mercedes in the lay-by just down the road from the main gate of the camp, then led him the few hundred yards through the woods towards the tunnel entrance. It was slow going; not an easy walk in the first place for someone who wasn't used to moving through the woods in the dark, but particularly difficult with the necessity of the blindfold, plus the fact that Holtzmann was still clutching the briefcase as if it were a life preserver. Not a moment too soon, they came upon the tree trunk access point and managed to get Holtzmann down the ladder and into the tunnel.

Hogan, still masked although the others had by now shed theirs, remained directly behind Holtzmann with a pistol trained on his back and sent the other three men on ahead; as he and the scientist passed through the tunnel on the way to the specially-constructed set that awaited them, he called out a random password every few yards and either Kinch, LeBeau or Newkirk would reply with a loud Heil Hitler and 'allow' them to pass. Good thing Holtzmann was still blindfolded; Newkirk accompanied his heil with a roll of his eyes, LeBeau stuck out his tongue when it was his turn, and Kinch, the least-convincing Nazi imaginable, gave a smile and a friendly wave of his hand.

The boys that had been left behind in the barracks had done a creditable job of quickly preparing a section of the tunnel to resemble a temporary secret headquarters for a VIP. The telephone switchboard was on one wall, a desk and chair alongside, even a fully-stocked bar cart, and everything festooned with the swastika banners and other paraphernalia that one might expect to find in such a place.

Completing the scenario was Carter, in full Führer regalia once more, hair severely parted on the side and swept across his forehead. He was just pressing his mustache firmly into place on his upper lip… talk about cutting it close. At a glance from Hogan best described as "ready or not, here we come", Carter's folksy Midwestern persona evaporated and he took on the intense, unbalanced stare of the Nazi dictator. This had worked before, more than once, and it had better work again, or they were all done for. If Carter had learned anything from his previous impersonations of Hitler, it was this: be loud. And he led with just exactly that.

"You're late!" he screamed at Hogan.

"Sincere apologies, Mein Führer." Hogan noticed that Holtzmann had swallowed hard at the sound of Carter's voice; hopefully he would find the rest of Carter just as impressive when he got the full effect. He removed his captive's blindfold with one sharp tug. "Herr Holtzmann, as you ordered."

"I ordered him over two hours ago!"

"Traffic," Hogan replied. Okay, Carter, good job, but don't get hung up on the small stuff… just get the job done.

Holtzmann's mouth dropped open in awe at the sight of Carter, then he found his voice. "This is indeed a supreme honor, Mein Führer…"

"Yes, I know!" Carter agreed readily.

"I would never have expected to find the Führer in such…" Holtzmann risked a glance to one side and then the other. "… shall we say… inauspicious conditions?"

Maybe that was why Holtzmann didn't have any friends… he was actually pretty stupid and tactless when it came right down to it."The Führer is not a frivolous man," Hogan said by way of explanation.

Holtzmann reached out a tentative hand to touch the earthen wall. "We are underground?"

Wasn't that as good a place as any to look for Hitler… under a rock? "I would not ask too many questions if I were you," Hogan warned. Mostly because we don't have too many answers, he added silently to himself.

"I will ask the questions!" Carter obligingly broke in, effectively disrupting any further comments Holtzmann might have been tempted to make on their surroundings. "And I have many questions about this factory of yours, Holtzmann… the one that is now an even bigger hole in the ground than this one!"

"Jawohl," Holtzmann was forced to admit. "But it is only a temporary setback."

Carter threw him off a bit by suddenly tempering his voice and turning conversational. "Oh? And how long before you will resume production after this 'temporary setback'?" he inquired calmly.

"Naturally, we will require generous financial support to rebuild…"

Carter nodded thoughtfully. "Of course, of course." He gestured to Holtzmann to step closer. "You. Here." Holtzmann took a step, and Carter motioned for him to take another, and then a third, until he was standing just inches away. "Now then… I have something to explain to you." He jacked the volume up again all the way to scream directly into the scientist's ear. "I am not made of Reichmarks, Holtzmann!"

"Of course not, Mein Führer…"

"Look around you! You see your Führer living in a gopher hole and you ask him for money? Do you know what happened to the last man who did such a thing?"

Holtzmann's head shook back and forth very slowly, and his pointed chin trembled. "No…"

"Neither does anybody else! They are still looking for him! They will have to wait until they find all of the pieces and put them back together again, which I promise you will not be easy, in order to learn what happened to him!"

"We found a foot last week," Hogan put in helpfully.

"Well, lose it again!" Carter shrieked.

"Yes, Mein Führer."

Carter had pulled in a fresh lungful of air and was about to send another blast of verbal abuse directly into Holtzmann's ear canal when the single bare bulb in the overhead fixture suddenly went out, then brightened, then dimmed again to almost total darkness. He glanced wordlessly at the colonel… this wasn't part of the plan. Hogan had no answers either, so he did what he always did: he winged it. "Looks like Martin Bormann forgot to pay the electric bill this month."

"You see?" Carter yelled at Holtzmann. "The Reich has no money to pay the bills! And we have not one pfennig to rebuild your factory, for the Allies to destroy all over again!"

"We could perhaps rebuild in a more secure location, Mein Führer…"

"No money for moving vans either!"

The light went out and flickered weakly back on again. "Excuse me one second," Hogan said, backing towards the doorway to the main tunnel. "I think I'd better go see if somebody kicked a plug out of the wall."

He knew that wasn't the problem. He didn't know what the problem was, but their electrical circuit was perfectly sound and there was no reason for that light to behave that way unless someone was doing it on purpose. And, that's exactly what had happened… Newkirk, Kinch and LeBeau were waiting for him as soon as he stepped outside and pulled off his mask. "Glad you got our message. Schultz is back," Kinch said quietly.

Hogan glanced at his watch. "He can't be! How'd that happen? We should have at least another twenty minutes!"

"The courier for the Hammelburg/Düsseldorf mail run found him out there and gave him a ride back to camp."

"Terrific. Now Hochstetter gets back into the game and we haven't even turned Holtzmann all the way around yet."

"Are we close?"

"Hard to say; the guy's pretty single-minded and so far he won't take 'no' for an answer, even when Carter's screaming 'no' as loud as anybody possibly could."

"I say we let the Russian bird see what she can do with him," Newkirk suggested. "Maybe she can convince him."

"That would work on me," LeBeau nodded in agreement.

"We know that… and we're sick of hearin' about it."

"And let's not forget about the radio detection truck," Kinch added. "Just since Schultz got back they've had it inside the camp, outside the camp, everywhere… the Gestapo might be onto us; they sure must think there's gonna be a signal out there to home in on."

Hogan tugged the black sack-like mask back over his head. "Okay, listen… I'll get Holtzmann out of there now and we'll put him on ice and get back upstairs, just in case Hochstetter comes nosing around the barracks to see if we're all snug in our beds. Is there anybody in the cooler?"

Kinch shook his head. "Nope. Either we're better behaved than usual or Klink's losing his grip… there hasn't been anybody there in more than a week."

"Well, now there will be. Stick Holtzmann in the solitary confinement cell… blindfold, tied to a chair, the whole nine yards. Maybe that'll convince him that Hitler's not gonna change his mind about the bankroll. If we play our cards right... and if Marya actually knows what she's talking about... he should be happy just to get out of this with his skin intact and he won't really care which side he's working for."

"You think he'll go quietly?" Newkirk asked.

Hogan nodded. "Sure. Watch."

He re-entered the 'Führer's office' not a moment too soon: Holtzmann was talking a mile a minute to Carter, who seemed to have completely forgotten that he was supposed to be reacting with typical Hitler-esque impatience and anger and was instead listening very intently to the scientist's passionate description of synthetic diamonds as thermoconductors in sophisticated modern explosives. You could say one thing for Holtzmann; he did know how to turn on the juice when it really mattered. Before Carter had the chance to completely forget himself and pull out his own checkbook, though, Hogan stepped in and took over the conversation. "Forgive me, Mein Führer, we have taken up too much of your time."

"Oh, no problem. Actually, it's been really interesting."

That didn't sound a bit like Hitler, but Holtzmann was holding forth so vigorously that there was little chance he would even notice. "We will leave you to consider more important matters. Perhaps Herr Holtzmann would join you in a drink before he departs?"

"Oh…" Carter nodded as he suddenly remembered where this was all supposed to end up, according to the original plan. "Oh, ja… vere are my manners?" At least the accent was back… he stepped over to the drinks cart and poured two small glasses of schnapps, then handed one to Holtzmann. "One for ze road, Holtzmann? No hard feelings, I hope?"

At the rate things were falling apart, Hogan wouldn't have been too surprised to hear Holtzmann say that he didn't drink. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. He downed the schnapps in one swallow, while Carter merely mimed taking a sip from his own glass. Before the scientist could utter another syllable, he made a quarter-turn on his heel as he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

As the other three men entered to help transfer Holtzmann to the cooler, Hogan glanced at Newkirk. "Is he quiet enough for you?"

"No complaints." The British corporal bent to get an arm around the limp man so he could help Kinch hoist him up far enough between them to could start the trek to the cooler. "That's the king of all mickeys. Make sure you jot that recipe down, Carter; we'll likely need it again sometime."

Carter snapped a quick 'heil'. "Jawohl."

"Oh, you're clever, you are."

Carter grinned. "Sorry…I kinda get into it."

"You method actors." For the last time, Hogan pulled the black mask off. Holtzmann was way past being able to recognize his own mother at this point.