Change of Ways

by The Ravenwolf

Set directly after the the events of the Rat Patrol's final episode, the story follows Dietrich's path into an unsteady future, joining his ways with the Rats and even less expected individuals. Reunions with former friends and foes included. (CHAPTER 1-14 revised!)

36. Curses and Cultists

When Hans wakes up the next morning, he feels something warm and soft at his feet and pushes himself up into a sitting position to get a better look at the usual suspect. As he has already expected, Fritz has curled up on the foot end of his bed and presses against his feet sharing the warmth in the cold night hours which are always the coldest before dawn. This November night is the first truly chilly one this year, Dietrich considers, as he wraps the blanket around himself more tightly. Now he actually feels relieved by his decision to keep the jacket on in addition to his shirt, since he would have frozen already during the night otherwise. As his still half-awake mind tries to process what has woken him except for Fritz, he notices a movement from the corner of his eye. Adrenaline forces him awake and his tired mind into overdrive more quickly than anything else could have, as he processes where the belt with his gun is lying, before whirling around, grabbing the Colt and drawing it from the holster left-handed to point it at a rather astounded Mark Hitchcock who has raised his hands in a clear sign of surrender. Hans' fast movements have startled Fritz, who has yelped in surprise and jumped off the bed, looking around frantically where this attack kicking him out of the warm comfortable bed has come from. None of the two men pays the whining little dog any attention though, as they stare at each other.

Slowly, Dietrich lowers his gun and inquires quietly: "Hitchcock, where have you been?" Hitch grins and tries to hide a smear of lipstick on his cheek. "Uh... out at ... Lisa's tent." The German officer raises his eyebrows in an ironic expression. "Indeed? To help the nurses overcome their terrible experiences I presume", the young Captain drawls sarcastically, as he finally puts his gun back into its holster. When the German lies back down on his bed again with a sigh, Hitch asks nervously: "Are you not going to reprimand me?" Dietrich mutters sarcastically: "Would that help?" Hitch shrugs and grins roguishly. "Don't think so. Never did before." "Exactly my thoughts, Hitchcock. Which is why I will conserve my energy. I'm not your chaperone and Lieutenant Hartigan is old and self-determined enough to know what she's doing. I doubt she needs a protector", the German Captain replies sarcastically.

Fritz puts his front paws on Dietrich's cot again and looks at his master with big pleading eyes. "Was willst du von mir, Fritz?", the German inquires quietly what he wants. Fritz licks the man's chin and fawns expectantly. With a sigh, the Captain points toward his legs. "Na, komm wieder rauf!" Fritz seems to understand him partially, as he clambers back onto the bed, but not at the foot end, and presses into the German's left side, taking in his scent, as he enjoys sharing the warmth of the man's body in the cold morning. "Aus, Fritz!", Dietrich warns him, when the dog moves around a bit too much and he fears that the sutures on his abdomen might get torn. Laying his snout on his master's chest Fritz closes his eyes and looks content again, while Hitch's expression has changed from an incredulous gape to a sympathetic grin. Sarge has been right. A guy who treats the little dog with so much care and sympathy is a really good guy, even if he is a Jerry officer. Weariness is clearly visible on the young officer's face who apparently trusts Mark enough to not continue observing him, as he closes his eyes and tries to find some more rest.

Hitch decides to pick up on the idea and nap a bit to recover some more energy similar to the young Captain who is not ungrateful to share some warmth with the dog, as he would be freezing otherwise. The American desert uniforms are better adapted to protect against the heat than the stiff German uniforms, but protect less against the cold of the desert's fall and winter nights. Without intending to, Hans drifts back to sleep which is haunted by strange dreams of hounds and jackals stalking and hunting the men of the camp. One by one, they get torn apart, as the jackals have done to the dead bodies they have found a few days ago or are bitten and turned into murderous beasts as well, first Captain Boggs and Brown, then the O'Donnell's, Deirdre and her Australian cousins, followed by their friend Lakatos. Then Moffit turns into a ravenous monster himself, killing Hitchcock, Gottschlich and Pettigrew. When Troy is about to be torn apart standing between Jakob and one of the infected, Hans Dietrich wakes with a start, drenched in cold sweat and breathing heavily. A shiver runs down his spine, as the content of the nightmare slowly fades from his mind, leaving only a sense of dread in its wake. Fritz senses his distress, whines softly and pokes his side with his snout in what the dog might consider a reassuring manner. "Schon gut, Fritz", Dietrich mutters, trying to calm and reassure himself as much as the dog, petting Fritz' head gently.

When the young man pushes himself up into a sitting position, Fritz jumps off the bed and stretches with a yawn, then lies down and observes his master with anxious brown eyes, fawning expectantly. "Nightmares?", a soft voice startles the lean German who winces before he can catch himself. Jack Moffit observes him with a sympathetic gaze and a drawn looking face of his own. "It appears this strange affair has left none of us unaffected", the British Sergeant continues with a whisper, as he points at Troy tossing and turning on his bed and Hitchcock muttering and turning in his sleep as well. "Except for Pettigrew", the Captain whispers back, looking at the Private who snores unperturbed by anything else. "It's hard to affect Tully", Moffit confirms with a wry smile. "And it's good neither Jakob nor Ari knew in detail what happened last night," Dietrich considers, shivering slightly as the sweat is drying and cooling his body further down. "Are you sick, Captain? You're shivering", Moffit inquires with some concern. "I'm fine, Doctor. But I would appreciate it, if you could help me change my damp shirt", the German answers after a few moments of hesitation and struggle against his own pride. "Of course, Captain", Moffit replies with all due politeness his upbringing has instilled in him, as he helps the younger officer to get the jacket and shirt off and then a fresh one on over his aching right shoulder.

The large bruise from Hitch's rescue still looks dark and ugly and two further bruises have formed on the front and the joint from the attack and the fall, or so Moffit assumes, as he assesses the German Captain closely. The lean young man has gained hardly any visible substance, which makes Jack understand better why Troy is constantly fussing over the German officer getting his meals. That Dietrich is able to button his shirt and jacket single handedly with his left hand alone at a fast pace is quite impressive for Jack Moffit who realizes that the dexterity the younger man has applied for stealing away a document from under the General's nose is an actual skill of his that is versatile and applicable in many situations. Having someone with such a skill could be valuable for the whole team in the future. Unfortunately, he has missed the Captain's card trick performance in front of the Australians, but Hitch has spent hours telling him about it, given how impressed the Private has been by the mind reading trick of the German.

Fritz has meanwhile given up on the idea that his master will pay him some attention any time soon and sneaks off toward Ari's bed who is calmer than Hitch. With some effort the dog clambers onto the boy's cot and curls up pressed against his legs without waking him up. "How do you want to approach our investigation of the Anubis ritual and the related events, Captain?", Jack meanwhile inquires with a whisper trying to appear less awkward, observing the tall officer who furrows his brows, before answering with precision: "I suggest that you start out reading through Harper's notes and diary and then scan through the letters. You are likely more able to understand the contents than I am and thus notice, if something is fishy, like with that invocation which would have sounded authentic enough for me, even if I would have been able to read it. Captain Boggs ordered that I have to train some recruits for the operation and handling of the German tanks which will take at least an hour or two. Afterwards, you inform me on your findings and we question Doctor Martin together." "Excellent idea, old chap", Moffit comments with a content smile. When he sees the German Captain frown, he adds: "I'm sorry, Captain. I had no intention of being disrespectful. It's simply a habit to speak a bit more casually with my research partners." "Compared to abbreviated rank titles, absurd nicknames and violations of my actual name through American pronunciation, it's by far not the worst choice, Moffit", Dietrich replies with dry humor.

The German tenses slightly, as Moffit points at his belt and inquires whether he should assist him with that as well, before nodding in agreement. There is no need to be unnecessarily stubborn and difficult, when the Brit does his utmost to act circumspect and helpful. "Thank you", the Captain breathes a sigh of relief nonetheless once the whole undignified procedure of receiving assistance in getting dressed like an invalid is over. Regaining the mobility of his main arm and reducing the pain level has become one of his primary goals. Thus, he heeds Deirdre O'Donnell's warning to not strain the limb unnecessarily and has even swallowed his pride to ask for Moffit's help, but that does not make it easier to bear for him.

Fritz yelping, as Ari wakes up, makes both Dietrich and Moffit turn around, while only the German Captain walks toward them. "Good morning, Ari", he greets the sleepy looking boy silently, while Ari yawns and blinks up at the tall man owlishly. Squatting to get closer to eye level with the child, the young German inquires. "Did you sleep well?" Ari beams at him and nods. "Yes. When I knew you all were there." They both notice the dog who wags his tail and successfully tries to befuddle the boy with his big puppy eyes. "Fritz!", Ari squeaks joyfully, making several men in the tent stir in their sleep. Fritz' joyful yelps finally wake up everybody. While Hitch yawns loudly, Tully merely glares silently at their alarm dog. Troy however starts and jumps from his bed in a battle-ready stance, muttering about Anubis, jackals and rabies. "Poor Troy", Jack mutters, while Jakob Silberblatt orders sharply: "Fritz, still!" Then he turns around on his cot and pulls his blanket serving as his pillow back over his head.

Dietrich has left Ari to entertain himself with Fritz and approaches the ferocious looking Sergeant cautiously. "Sergeant Troy!", he addresses the American with a strict, but sympathetic tone, raising his hands in a defensive and calming gesture. "It's just Fritz playing with Ari. We have no problems with jackals or rabies cases", the German adds in a reassuring tone, once he notices Troy's gaze focusing on him. The American Sergeant finally lowers his balled fists, as he realizes that the German Captain stands in front of him in a defensive stance. "You're right. Sorry, Captain", the American mutters sheepishly, feeling quite awkward at his overreaction. "We all had a rough night", Dietrich tells him in a calm tone, before he adds with an ironic smile: "Wouldn't your usual suggestion be to cure that with a good breakfast?" Troy looks stunned for a few moments, before breaking into a grin and squeezing the younger man's shoulder. "You're finally learning. I'm really proud of you. Let's shake it, boys! Breakfast is waiting." Although he frowns slightly at the undignified words, the German lets the slight pass, relieved to have calmed the distraught looking Sergeant for the moment.

Fritz has quickly adopted the word 'breakfast' into his important human vocabulary, which is absolutely necessary to understand, along with 'food,' 'lunch' and 'dinner'. Thus, he jumps off Ari's bed, yelping enthusiastically, and the boy follows him eagerly after slipping into his sandals. With a groan, Jakob calls: "I'll join you later ... much later!" "Of course, Jakob. It would be terrible, if you'd miss your beauty sleep. You need it desperately after all", Hans comments sarcastically. "Holt dien Mul, Hans!", Jakob growls back with clear annoyance and pulls the blanket back over his head. "That sounded really friendly", Troy comments with bemusement. "What did he say?", Hitch asks curiously. "Although I appreciate your eagerness to learn German, you need not adopt this particular phrase into your active vocabulary, gentlemen", Dietrich replies dryly, as he walks out of the tent with them.

"It must have been in platt, as I could not understand it, although there is some familiarity", Moffit comments with actual curiosity ringing in his voice. "Given your lovely manner of rubbing in how you are smarter than everyone else, I am pretty sure that you heard this particular phrase more than once in your school days as well, Moffit", the German comments with dry amusement. "The High German phrase would be 'Halt dein Maul!', which basically means 'shut your mouth!'." Moffit smiles with amusement and clear self-mockery, as he replies: "You're absolutely right, Captain. I heard that pretty often when I was in school in Munich. I can hardly imagine how you were able to deduce that, Sherlock." "One of my intellectual masterstrokes, Watson", the lean officer counters dryly and gets even Troy to laugh heartily. "We should have taken you in much earlier, Captain. You're a great entertainer", he gets out after catching his breath. "I have to live up to the name Dietrich and my fake Hollywood relation after all", the Captain comments dryly. In spite of strange dreams, he feels in a good enough mood to take the whole episode with humor rather than anger.

As they enter the mess tent, surprisingly many soldiers are already up and about, given the early hour. Ari points at several things he wants to have added to his breakfast plate and the young soldier responsible for dispensing rations immediately complies with a friendly smile. "Here you go, kid", he states with a beam, as he hands the boy the full plate. "Can Fritz have something too?", Ari asks with a pleading look that almost rivals Fritz' begging puppy eyes, as both gaze at the young man from below who finds himself unable to resist. "Sure. I saved something for him", the American soldier declares and holds out a burnt sausage that the little dog grabs with enthusiasm and starts to munch on, yelping and wagging his tail with joy. "Fritz, the Insatiable. Never invoke him before meals", Dietrich mutters dryly. "You're the main person responsible for his sieges of the canteen and annoying the medical personnel, Captain", Moffit reminds him dryly. "Which makes you the high priest or cult leader." "Spare me that hokus pokus about cults or I'll lose my appetite", Troy growls testily. "That was definitely the wrong side of the bed he jumped out of this morning", Moffit whispers for only Dietrich to hear who raises his eyebrows in a bemused manner. "Stop talking about me behind my back, you smartasses!", Troy snaps at them. "Definitiv mit dem falschen Fuß zuerst aufgestanden", the Captain confirms the statement in German, just to be safe to not be understood by the grumpy Sergeant.

Sam Troy insists on taking the injured Captain's tray with his breakfast and carries it to the officer's table where Dietrich leads him to take a seat with Boggs and discuss the evacuation plans. "We'll pick you up later, Captain", Troy comments and leaves the younger man to his breakfast among the officers, patting him on the left shoulder twice. "Good morning, Captain", Boggs greets the tall German officer, as he takes his seat and replies with a similar polite greeting. "Good morning, Captain Boggs. If I remember correctly, we will have to finish the evacuation of the camp today. Do we have any news on the General's state yet?", Dietrich inquires cautiously, as he takes a sip from his coffee. It is definitely better than the German ersatz Kaffee he has had to suffer for months, but any Italian would probably ask for satisfaction, should he declare the beverage to get even close to real coffee.

Boggs sighs at his question and bites into a piece of toast. "Unfortunately, Doctor Andrews believes that General Atkins has been highly overdosed. Given his age, it will take a few days of IV infusions to get the drug out of his system and allow him to recover from the after effects which are indeed as extreme as you have described them." The German Captain nods with worry and concern. "That is what I feared. As Major Turner is also still suffering from his wounds, you will stay in command for a while, Captain Boggs." The American Captain nods with a weary expression. "It appears so. I need to rely on you, Captain Dietrich, as you are not only the highest ranking and most experienced officer I have in my unit as a second in command, but also have proven your competence in handling various situations. You have a knack for investigations which helps me a lot, as I have no affinity for playing coppers and robbers. Also it is a rather unique skill set among my officers who are more of the daredevil type otherwise." Dietrich smiles wryly. "I would never have guessed."

Then, the German turns more serious and puts down his fork, leaving the baked beans for the moment. "Once we have finished the investigation of the strange expedition, Moffit, Silberblatt and I will dedicate our time to the infiltrators and their plans again." Boggs nods. "I appreciate that and leave this matter to you, while I will deal with the other organisational business." "Did you have any success in interrogating them yesterday?", Dietrich inquires with furrowed brows. "Unfortunately not. After your trick the Major downright refused to speak with us anymore. And the manipulated men told us more or less what we have already heard before: that they believed to work for an Allied agent who wanted to stop the Axis from infiltrating our camp", Boggs replies with a worried scowl. Dietrich frowns. "A devious plan that unfortunately worked excellently given distrust and prejudice." Boggs looks at the lean young man with sympathy. "You have seen a lot of this type, haven't you, Dietrich?" The German Captain winces both at the question and the pronunciation of his name. "Shouldn't you know better than I, given that you sent your best commandos after me to sabotage me on a regular basis?", the proud young German counters sarcastically.

"I have as little intention to harm you as any of the men of your unit who have previously been your worst enemies", Boggs argues with a slight pang of guilt. Dietrich nods and sighs wearily. "I know that, Captain Boggs. I hold no grudge against you or your... my men." He grimaces a bit. "But this does not change the fact that I am a German and people will distrust me automatically." Boggs scrutinises the lean young officer who has closed his eyes bearing a pained expression. When he opens them again, he addresses the other Captain with a stern matter-of-factual tone: "But you are right, I have gained a lot of experience in this way. And independent of what some people think about me I intend to stand by my chosen side loyally. Whatever you require me to do, I will follow your orders, as long as they do not violate my morals and propriety." "Rest assured that I would never ask something violating your morals from you willingly. I know that you have your limits and joined our side only because your previous side has overstepped this bound. You have proven how you will act when forced to choose between immorality and following orders", Boggs reassures him. "I'm aware that employing snipers is a taboo for you." "It's bad enough that I have Pettigrew. I probably felt better before I knew that he carries a grenade around just in case he might run into trouble", Dietrich comments dryly and James Boggs stares at him incredulously. "He does what?"

The German smiles with grim amusement at his colleague's incredulity. "You have no idea how lucky you have been to not learn the details of the Rats' endeavours." Boggs looks torn between dark amusement and exasperation at his most unruly, yet successful unit. "You can introduce me to some of them now, can't you?" "I really don't consider this a good idea, Captain Boggs", Dietrich replies cautiously, stirring his coffee to distract himself. "In the interest of your nerves I would recommend you not to insist on an answer." Boggs gets some impression of why the Rats appreciate the young German Captain as their unit commander, as he will step in front of his men and defend them against his superiors as well as their enemies. As an officer Dietrich is more loyal to his men than his superiors and his men actually love and admire him for that, including the Germans of his unit who even obey him beyond defection and captivity. The Allies have been lucky to gain the young Captain as an ally and Boggs has no intention to harm or waste such a valuable collaborator and source of information. Dealing with the German's pride and temper are the main challenges for handling him, although compared to First Lieutenant Winters Dietrich is truly meek as a lamb. Boggs shudders slightly. The death of his long time veteran has still not fully registered with him, especially under the circumstances of the infiltrators and drugs involved.

"Captain Boggs?", the German Captain addresses his older colleague with a tone of worry and concern, as the other simply stares ahead with a glazed gaze. "Are you alright?" James Boggs shakes his head slightly, then raises his hand to calm the worried looking younger man. "I'm fine. The events of the past days are hard to comprehend though and sometimes it's unimaginable that people who I have collaborated with for years are dead, especially under such circumstances." Dietrich nods in understanding, as he takes another mouthful of his baked beans. "That's why I like investigating. It helps me to deal with such incredible events better, when I learn about the backgrounds and causes." Boggs gives this statement some thought. "I have never considered this aspect. Troy calls you Captain Sherlock for a good reason after all." The German narrows his eyes and glares slightly. "How come everyone teases me with my nickname while nobody but the enlisted men uses the other nicknames?", the younger Captain growls slightly unnerved. "I suppose, because they are so unflattering that we would never tolerate them", Boggs replies pragmatically. Dietrich reflects on what Troy has told him and has to admit that this is probably true. "Do you know what they call me?", Boggs asks curiously. The German averts his gaze. "You'd better ask Sergeant Troy." "He would never give me an honest or acceptable answer in a million years", the older officer replies with a sigh and takes another sip of his coffee. "These Rats trust you, but not me, to share such information." "Then I will not betray my men's trust and I can assure you that you sleep better as long as you don't know your nickname", the younger Captain counters with a smile.

"Who do you intend for me to train for handling the tanks?", Dietrich inquires, returning to their original topics. "I would suggest some men of Winters' former unit, as they have to be put under different officers' commands anyways", Boggs replies. His German colleague counters however: "Don't you need them as drivers and gunners of their respective Jeeps? Even if they serve under a new commander, I have not been under the impression that you have more than two to three men per Jeep on average in your unit, with the officers counting extra. So there is little room for sparing men and some have also been wounded yesterday at the prisoner uprising." Captain Boggs nods at the reasonable argument. "What do you suggest as an alternative, Dietrich?" The German winces slightly at the pronunciation of his name, but provides his arguments calmly. "Ask Major Bracken for six to nine of his British soldiers. Some of them are already experienced with handling tanks, so they only would need to learn the specificities of the Tiger Tanks which is also a valuable knowledge for their side when they actually have to fight against such tanks in the future", the younger Captain argues matter-of-factually. "That is an excellent idea, Captain. Lieutenant Johnson!", Boggs calls the British Lieutenant over to join them, as the man sits on the other end of the table. Johnson looks up, appears slightly sheepish, when he recognizes Dietrich, and fills a cup with steaming liquid from a pot in front of him.

As he steps toward the two Captains, he hands the cup to the German officer wordlessly who recognizes the black tea without further inspection and nods with gratitude. "Captain Boggs, Captain Dietrich", Johnson greets them with a salute. "What do you need me for?" Boggs makes an inviting gesture in Dietrich's direction. "According to your reports, Lieutenant, Major Bracken's unit has originally held more tanks which have however been destroyed by Major von Stolberg. Am I assuming correctly that you have several men trained with the handling of tanks available in your unit?", Dietrich inquires calmly. Johnson looks baffled, then nods. "You are right, Captain Dietrich. Some of our tank personnel will steer our own tanks, now that we need not destroy them, but we have some more men able to do that. Why do you ask, Sir?" "You are aware that we have ten intact Tiger III and IV tanks from my former unit. We will have to destroy all the vehicles which we cannot transport. As we all know that the Tiger tanks are among the best armored vehicles out here in the desert, losing all of them instead of taking some with us would be a waste. Could you spare nine men already familiar with handling tanks who I can specifically train for the unique features of the German tanks. Such knowledge should be invaluable for the British side in addition to the looted vehicles", the former Panzer Hauptmann offers coolly.

For a few moments Johnson just stares at him in astonishment, then the British officer beams at him: "Of course, we can spare the men. I will have to speak with Major Bracken first, but I'm sure we'll find a solution for this problem. When do you need the men, Captain?" Dietrich looks quite content with the response, as he replies coolly: "As soon as possible, so they can get familiar with the vehicles. If you send them to Captain Boggs' office in an hour, it would suffice." Johnson checks his watch. "0830 then. I will consult the Major right away, Captain." With a sharp salute the British officer takes off. "I will also take my leave to get my injuries checked in sickbay", the German Captain declares smoothly, as he stands up in a single swift motion after having drunk up his tea. "You do that, Captain Dietrich. Report to me afterwards and check on Major Turner and General Atkins!", Boggs replies. The German Captain salutes sharply with his left hand, then turns around to walk toward the table with the Rats.

Ari comes running toward him immediately. "You helped Captain Boggs again, Hans?", the boy inquires and looks in the direction of the older officer shyly. The young Captain ruffles his hair with a gentle smile. "I did. Did you enjoy your breakfast, Ari?" The boy nods and beams at him. "I tried Hash Browns." Ari licks his lips and closes his eyes with delight. "You like them", Hans comments with a smile. "They are really good, better than Pita bread", Ari revels in the memory of the taste. Leading the boy back to the Rats' table, the young officer takes a close look at all of them. "It seems I have found an alternative solution for our tank problem. Lieutenant Johnson will find some British volunteers already experienced with tank handling to learn the specifics of the Tiger tanks. In this way the LRDG will not lose any of its Jeep drivers or gunners who are relevant for protecting the convoy", Dietrich informs them. "Excellent idea, Captain", Moffit comments. "This will mean that you can join me earlier for the investigation of the materials again." Dietrich nods. "Indeed, Moffit. Pettigrew, Gottschlich, you are responsible for preparing our Jeeps and helping with taking down the tent and moving all our belongings onto the vehicles. Hitchcock, you will take care of Ari. Troy, do you want to learn the handling of German tanks a bit better?" Sam Troy looks briefly baffled, then inquires: "You want to take me with you, Captain?" "After all that has happened I do not fully trust the Brits to remain alone with them, especially when I'm in no position to defend myself", the German replies grimly. After all that has happened in the past few days, none of them wants to protest against this assessment. "Well. What are we waiting for? Let's shake it!", Troy orders. "You have your orders, gentlemen", Dietrich adds coolly.

A few minutes later, the lean German officer enters the sickbay closely followed by Sam Troy. "I'll have a chat with Davey. I'll pick you up later, Captain", the American Sergeant grumbles. "Try to speak with him in a civil manner, Troy, although he is even more unnerving than you. Coming to terms is in the best interest of both of you", the younger man comments dryly, before turning toward Doctor Andrews. "I'm here for my checkup, Doctor, and some of these bandages need to be changed." All of them have been drenched with sweat during the night and the change will be a relief. "Deirdre, could you look after the Captain please?", the American medic calls the blond nurse who nods meekly, but avoids to meet the German officer's eyes. Hans Dietrich observes her expression and body language speaking of discomfort and fear with worry and concern, but refrains from addressing her directly. Instead he keeps their interaction precise and focused on the medical essentials, as she leads him to the officer's ward where Major Bracken speaks with Lieutenant Johnson, while Major Turner listens and provides some input of his own. Closeby, Sam Troy leads an intense conversation with his brother David.

Although keeping his cool on the outside, Hans Dietrich is carefully observing the young woman, as she changes the bandages around his arm checking whether the falcon's gashes have become infected. Then, she turns to inspecting his forehead which only requires bandages to keep the wounds from getting infected. Finally, the nurse diligently applies a fresh bandage around his waist instead of the ragged looking cloth which has suffered the most from his nightly ordeal. Deirdre O'Donnell's face looks atypically haggard and the dark rims under her puffed red eyes speak of many hours at night spent without sleep, crying instead. As being the nurse's comforter is not only improper, but also does he not know the woman well enough to have any idea of what would help her, the German Captain intends to share his observations with people he considers able to help her, her nurse colleague Lisa Hartigan or her cousins Daniel and Kevin. Once finished with the bandages Deirdre looks at the bruises on the lean officer's shoulder worriedly, as she inquires quietly: "Are you still in pain with your shoulder, Captain?" The German smiles wryly. "Unfortunately, as is to be expected. Should I continue wearing the sling, Lieutenant?" Instead of an answer she starts to feel the tense muscles and tendons, until she reaches a particularly painful spot and the young man groans with pain, closing his eyes briefly. "I'm sorry, I... I", without finishing the stuttered sentence, Deirdre O'Donnell blushes and runs off, not meeting the German Captain's eyes again.

As Lisa Hartigan approaches the young officer who looks worried and concerned, Hans Dietrich inquires: "Is she still affected so extremely by what happened yesterday? She looks like she didn't get much sleep and shed too many tears." The American nurse looks the lean young man in the eyes, while she picks up a lotion the young officer recognizes from previous treatments as a muscle relaxant of sorts they have used for massages before. "Of course she is still affected and spent the last night crying instead of sleeping, but she didn't want to be taken off duty. It distracts her from her own terrible thoughts to be here." The German Captain nods curtly in understanding and bites back a hiss of pain, as Lisa Hartigan massage the medication in. "That is an attitude I can perfectly understand." Lisa observes the lean young man for a few seconds, weighing whether she should continue, then addresses him directly: "She's also particularly embarrassed in front of you. Deirdre has a bit of a crush on you." The German officer stares at her, speechless for a few seconds, before grinding out: "I beg your pardon. I must have misheard that last part." Lisa Hartigan counters vehemently, pointing her right index finger at his chest: "You've heard and understood me correctly, Captain. You're a tall and handsome guy after all and I'm sure you know that. This can't be the first time it happens to you that a girl has a crush on you."

Dietrich has paled visibly and his gaze appears actually haunted, before he averts his eyes. "No. This is not the first time this happens to me", the young officer speaks with a strangled tone. "You'd better advise your friend to drop this notion immediately." Lisa Hartigan presses her fists in her hips and glares at the skinny young man who has not even had the chance to get back into his shirt, as they have just been finishing his treatment. "You can tell her that yourself, if you want to play the role of noble and chaste officer and gentleman." The German Captain sighs wearily, before looking her directly in the eyes. "This has nothing to do with playing a role. We're in a war, at its forefront and this is no place to look for love. I... don't want your friend to come to harm." Lisa drops a bit of her stern and aggressive facade in the light of the young Captain's desperate expression. His gaze is tormented and haunted more than anything else. Lisa becomes suddenly aware that she does not know anything about whether he has been engaged in Germany or left a girlfriend behind through his change of sides. "What has happened to you the last time?", she cannot stop herself from inquiring, as curiosity gets the better of her. Dietrich's brown eyes still look haunted, as he asks: "When I provide you with an honest answer to your question, will you promise me to speak to your friend and deter her from following a hopeless and potentially dangerous endeavor?" Lisa nods: "I can promise you that I will speak to Deirdre. I can't promise you that I will be able to dissuade her."

The German officer nods in acceptance, then starts his recount with a haunted tone that matches the grief in his brown eyes: "When I was a Lieutenant in France in 1940, I was shot through the left shoulder and almost killed by a sniper attack. You have probably noticed the scar given how often you have treated me in the last two weeks. Afterwards, I had to spend two months in a hospital in Paris to recover from my injuries. One of the nurses there, Amelie Leroux, started to spend more and more time at my bedside. Sometimes she stayed even after her shift had ended, to talk, chat about her family and farm in Normandie, where they worked the fields still with their tough draft horses and the harsh weather is similar to my home in Northern Germany. Maybe she started to talk to me, because I spoke French better than most of the Germans or because she considered me, how did you put this, a tall and handsome guy, I don't know." Although he smiles wryly at the formulation, his eyes hold a lot of sadness that briefly spikes into joy, love, Lisa is not sure what exactly, as he continues: "We ended up engaged and it was a wonderful time in hindsight, as long as it lasted. When I was recovered enough to walk again, she showed me around Paris, introduced me to French cuisine and the small Bistros so characteristic of the city. We celebrated our engagement on the stairs of Notre Dame de Paris."

Lisa Hartigan smiles, as her own romantic streak is triggered by the description of exotic places. Leaving his fiancee behind would explain why the German Captain is insisting on propriety so much. Checking his hands again, she frowns, as she sees no ring there. Without noticing her scrutiny, Hans Dietrich continues his tale with a thousand yards stare, as his face falls from a happy smile to a haunted, stern expression. "The times ended far too soon, as I was sent to Italy as one of General Fieldmarshal Rommel's communication officers and had to learn basic Italian within a few weeks, before I was supposed to continue onwards to North Africa." The young man sighs wearily and meets Lisa's eyes. "The typical fate of wartime lovers is to be torn apart again, when duty calls. But this is not the end of this story", he adds with a bitter tone. Without the shirt, the tension in his every muscle and sinew is clearly visible. Lisa has a premonition that he does not wear a ring for a good reason and shudders slightly, not sure whether she wants to hear the end of this tale.

"I wrote to Amelie twice during my time in Italy. In her last letter she sent to me, she told me how happy she was to visit her family and tell them about her engagement, how she looked forward to being back at their farm in Normandie again, to smell the sea breeze and look after her family's goats grazing on the cliffs above the rough sea, riding on the calm tempered farm horses. When I received no answer to my next two letters sent afterwards to Paris, I inquired at the hospital and they informed me that Amelie had never returned from her trip, as the French Resistance had caught her and murdered her for", he sighs deeply, "sleeping with the enemy." Lisa inhales sharply, as the young officer continues with a bitter tone full of self-loathing: "In this sense I am partially responsible for her death. I swore to myself to not endanger anybody else I care about in such a way." Lisa Hartigan understands his haunted look and lack of a ring far better now. "It's not your fault what happened to her", she argues. "In a way it is, Lieutenant Hartigan. I knew the consequences of my actions better than her as a German officer who had already been confronted with the hatred of the people living in the land we had invaded", Dietrich replies with a grim tone. "Ignoring it was selfish, but she paid the highest price for our folly of youth not I and I am to blame for that at least to some degree." The German Captain sighs wearily. "In addition, unlike a nurse of a hospital I only received medical treatment in, I am the second in command of this camp and you as well as your friend are under my direct command. Misusing my authority in such a way is absolutely against my principles and out of the question."

When their gazes meet, Lisa looks actually concerned and her empathy for the young Captain is clearly visible. "So now that you hopefully understand my reluctance and refusal somewhat better, would you please speak with your friend, Lieutenant Hartigan?" "That won't be necessary", Deirdre O'Donnell addresses the lean young man from behind his back with a sad tone. As the tall German Captain whirls around instinctively, he grimaces in pain, since the fast movement hurts his injuries. "I heard you, most of your tale at least and I really don't want anything like that from you, Captain." She brushes off a tear running down her cheek. "I really owe you so much, for Danny, Sara, myself. I don't want to force you into anything, just show my gratitude." Dietrich sighs wearily. "You have my sympathies for all that happened to you, but our relationship is a strictly official one, Lieutenant O'Donnell. You're one of my nurses, I'm your unit commander's second in command. Please keep that in mind! Befriending my subordinates is an inappropriate behaviour and could lead to misuse of authority."

"You're pretty friendly with Sergeant Troy and the Rats though", Lisa Hartigan confronts him. "I'm frequently having this type of discussion with him as well", the German officer states curtly, scowling at her. "Unlike Troy I hope that you ladies know the limits of propriety." Lisa gives an almost roguish smirk absolutely appropriate for Hitchcock's girlfriend, while Deirdre O'Donnell nods. "I'm from an Irish Catholic family. Of course I know these." "Then, we should not have a problem with each other, as long as these limits are respected, Lieutenant O'Donnell", Dietrich replies with a stern tone, relieved that at least the more reasonable, yet in this case more troublesome of the two nurses complies with his conditions. When he is about to turn away, Lisa addresses him: "Wait! I want to thank you... for your story, your honesty, well and actually for all you've done for us in the past few days, Captain Dietrich." With another roguish smirk she asks the slightly baffled looking Captain: "Do people still ask you for autographs of your Hollywood cousin?"

The tall officer raises his eyebrows in an ironic expression. "Due to other events this rumor has luckily lost its momentum." "It's too bad. I still think you've got the same nose as Marlene", Lisa adds with a wink. Scowling a bit, the German Captain replies with a dry tone: "If you think so." Lisa helps him to get into his shirt sleeve and jacket and watches the lean young man deftly buttoning both with his left hand alone. Mark's stories about his sleight of hand tricks definitely hold some truths. Once dressed properly, the German officer adds after a courteous bow: "Farewell, ladies. I trust in your confidentiality." As soon as he is out of earshot, stalking off in the direction of the German soldiers' tent area, Lisa whispers: "It's really hard not to like that guy, when he's not keeping up the stern facade." Deirdre blushes slightly. "We promised to respect propriety." "I did no such thing, but I still will, 'cause I respect his attitude, especially after that story of his", Lisa replies with a smile. "And liking him doesn't mean I'd cheat on Mark. But I can count the guys from our side on a single hand who'd care and act as considerate about their local lovers' fates and choose to become engaged rather than just having their fun in a single night."

David Troy appears rather thoughtful after what he has inadvertently overheard, because it is hard to gain some privacy in the officer's ward with such a closely confined space and no walls separating the men. Since his massive injuries, listening to the things spoken around him, has become one of David's main sources of entertainment. How the mighty have fallen, he considers. Before the plane crash he has barely paid anybody more attention than necessary to assess their superficial appearance. "Hey, Sammy", he tells his brother who returns with a jug of water David has asked him to fetch before. "You really missed something..." While the younger Troy brother shares his latest gossip, Hans Dietrich has turned to the German soldiers' part of the tent to look after Leutnant Haberfeld and his men. "Hauptmann Dietrich", Ludwig Sommer greets him with a friendly smile. "Wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?" "Ich würde gerne nach Leutnant Haberfeld und meinen ehemaligen Männern sehen, Ludwig", Dietrich replies to the question how the medic can help him with his wish to look after his former men in particular Leutnant Haberfeld. Sommer smiles with sympathy at the young officer who might have turned against Nazi Germany, but surely has never betrayed or stopped caring about his men.

"Haberfeld geht es besser. Er wird überleben und sollte in 2 Wochen wieder auf den Beinen sein, aber er wird wohl für den Rest seines Lebens hinken.", Sommer reassures Dietrich that Haberfeld is better and will survive. He should even be back on his feet in two weeks, but will probably limp for the rest of his life. "Darf ich Sie etwas fragen, Herr Hauptmann?", the German staff medic asks him cautiously. At the tall Captain's curt nod, Sommer continues with his question. "Was hat sich gestern Nacht zugetragen? Schwester O'Donnell ist heute noch ganz verstört, mehr noch als nach dem Tod ihrer Freundin." The lean German officer tenses slightly and considers his staff medic with an intense gaze when Sommer asks what has happened yesterday night, as nurse O'Donnell is still completely distraught, more than after her friend's death even. Briefly the young officer summarizes how the nurse has been taken as a hostage by the British archaeologist who has wanted to force Dietrich and his men into killing him to commit suicide in this way. Sommer is visibly shocked by the thought that he has acted because he has believed to be infected with rabies and would have chosen a quick death over a slow and painful one through the disease.

The German medic simply shakes his head in disbelief, as he leads Dietrich to Haberfeld's cot, muttering with clear sympathy: "Die Arme." Dietrich agrees with him that the poor nurse has suffered enough emotional trauma in a short time and hopefully will be able to recover, but has decided to keep his proper distance after the previous discussion with the nurses. Leutnant Haberfeld is overjoyed at the sight of his visitor and greets Dietrich with a wide smile. "Hauptmann Dietrich. Ich freue mich wirklich, Sie zu sehen. Danke, dass Sie gekommen sind!" "Wie geht es Ihnen, Leutnant Haberfeld?", the Captain inquires, as he keeps standing at the German Lieutenant's bedside. "Ich habe ziemliche Schmerzen, aber es ist nicht das erste Mal, dass ich angeschossen wurde", Haberfeld laments the pain he suffers, but argues that this is not the first time he has been shot.

"Ich danke Ihnen, dass Sie mir zu Hilfe kommen wollten, Leutnant. Insbesondere nachdem ich Sie in Gefangenschaft geführt habe, ist es nicht selbstverständlich, dass Sie für mich eine Kugel abfangen." Dietrich thanks the slightly older German officer for his willingness to come to his aid. Especially after having led him into captivity, it is incredible that Haberfeld would want to catch a bullet for him. Haberfeld smiles with a content expression. "Wenn ich für jemanden eine Kugel fange, dann sind das immer nur Sie gewesen, Herr Hauptmann, ... und vielleicht Rommel." Hans smiles at the words that the only one Haberfeld would have wanted to catch a bullet for has been his Captain and maybe Rommel. "Ruhen Sie sich aus, Leutnant Haberfeld. Ich werde wieder nach Ihnen sehen." The tall Captain assures his former Lieutenant that he will look after him again and he should rest now.

Led by Ludwig Sommer, Dietrich visits the other German soldiers in sickbay and calms and reassures them after the events of the previous day, ranging from prisoners uprising to one of the nurses being taken as a hostage in sickbay in the middle of the night. Nemet and Bauer are particularly relieved to speak with their Captain, assuring him of their compliance with Jakob Silberblatt's offered deal. "Bitte sagen Sie Herrn Leutnant Silberblatt, dass wir wirklich alles tun werden, was er von uns verlangt hat, Herr Hauptmann", Bauer whispers with a desperate tone. "Wir werden uns an unsere Abmachung halten. Das ist Ehrensache, Hauptmann Dietrich", Istvan Nemet also agrees. The Hungarian Sergeant is still slightly feverish and his infected cuts in the face give him a fearsome look, but his tone is as calm and diligent as Hans Dietrich is used to hearing from him. "Keine Sorge. Er wird sein Versprechen einhalten. Dafür werde ich sorgen", Dietrich replies calmly that he will assure that the promises made to them will be kept. "Lieutenant Silberblatt ist ein alter Jugendfreund von mir und wird Sie aus den Fängen der Nazis heraußen halten. Glauben Sie mir das!" Wolf Bauer looks at his former Captain with gratitude and admiration, as the young officer assures him of his friend's reliability in keeping his part of the compromise and wishing to keep them out of the Nazis' reach, even in POW camps. That Troy is not here to intimidate him, also helps the young Austrian. "Danke vielmals, Herr Hauptmann!", Wolf Bauer whispers with gratitude, shaking the tall young officer's hand in a gesture of gratitude. "Gerne geschehen. Vertrauen Sie mir!", Dietrich assures him to trust him, rubbing his shoulder with a slightly pained expression. "Köszönöm. Vielen Dank!", Nemet agrees, but refrains from any hand shakes, noticing the Captain's pain unlike his younger protege who is too caught up in his own depression and misery.

When Dietrich turns back to the officer's ward to speak with Major Turner, Sam Troy approaches him with a strange look on his face. "Sergeant, has something happened? Is your brother alright?", the German officer inquires with some concern. After the way the man he has considered rather unshakeable has reacted last night and this morning, the younger Captain has decided to not take his indefinite resilience for granted and to treat him with some more caution. "Davey's fine, but he told me that story you told the nurses", Troy states directly. Beating around the bush is not his style after all. Dietrich looks stunned for a few moments, before his expression turns thunderous. "Would asking for some privacy actually be too much to ask of your family?", he snarls lividly. "This does not concern you in any way, Troy. If you still left your brother intact, I will have a word with him about eavesdropping on people and then gossipping about them immediately." "Captain, he really didn't act with bad intent", Troy tries to calm the angry German. "No, Troy. I trust you enough to believe you that you don't act with bad intent. Your brother however is a totally different story", the young Captain growls, as he makes his way to the officer's ward.

"Troy!", Dietrich bellows so lividly that David actually flinches in spite of his prone position on the bed. Crouching at the injured pilot's bedside, the German Captain focuses the American RAF pilot with a menacing glare. "How dare you eavesdrop on me and then gossip like a washerwoman?", the younger officer snarls lividly. David looks actually intimidated, not only because he is too badly injured to be able to defend himself at all, but also because the German looks downright murderous with bared teeth and angrily blazing eyes. "I'm sorry, Captain Dietrich. I honestly didn't intend to eavesdrop on you. It just happened. You know... I'm lying around here all day with nothing to do but listening to what happens around me", David tries to defend himself. "That gives you no right to start gossipping about me immediately", Dietrich snarls angrily. "I didn't gossip. I only told what I heard to Sam, my brother, your friend." The German Captain bristles at the words and glares at David, but does not interrupt or correct him. "I wouldn't tell this to just anyone, but I thought that he should know... I mean after all you heard about him and ... us, it's just fair." "It is not", the younger officer grinds out with his anger clearly laced into his voice. "It was his choice to share his story with me. I never had a choice to share mine with any of you two."

A guilty look appears in David's eyes, as he pleads: "I'm sorry. Honestly." Dietrich sighs wearily. With his anger mostly vented, holding a grudge against the inconsiderate fool who has acted without thinking seems a wasted effort. "Fine, Captain Troy", he spits the title like an insult. "I will not swear revenge, but I expect that you keep what you know to yourself and don't share it with anybody, nevermind the circumstances!" "Honestly, I swear it that I won't tell anyone", David agrees immediately, more than a little relieved to have calmed the livid German Captain enough to survive the next five minutes. "That goes for you as well, Sergeant!", the young officer speaks, as he looks up at Sam Troy standing behind him. "Sure, Captain. You have my word", the older Troy brother reassures the German, squeezing his left shoulder lightly. "You should talk with Moffit. He can really relate to the drama connected to French girlfriends. But if you need a ... friend, you can talk to me." Dietrich bites back a harsh comment, as leashing out against Sam Troy when he is exceptionally considerate and sympathetic would be unfair, when it is his brother he is currently angry with.

Standing up and focusing his gaze on the sheepish looking Sergeant, Dietrich declares coolly: "I still need to check on the Major and the General." "We're right here", Major Bracken comments dryly. "Johnson told me you requested some of my lads to train them to handle your Tiger tanks. A splendid idea, Captain Dietrich." "Thank you, Major Bracken. I assume this means that you will send us the required men", the German replies coolly. "Of course, Captain", Bracken confirms. "Which means that Johnson will do it, as I have ordered him to do." The British Major sighs dramatically. "I honestly can't wait till we get on the move and a change of scenery." "I doubt a truck will be a better environment compared to this, Major", the German Captain tries to get the British officer down to earth again. "You're of course right, Captain Dietrich. But we will move out of this hellhole in the middle of the desert and this is an improvement in and of itself." "I can only agree with my British colleague", Major Turner adds his own opinion. "I trust you have organised the evacuation and transport well, Captain Dietrich. You're the logistics expert in this camp after all." The German officer looks briefly baffled at being considered the logistic expert, but assures his superior: "Of course, we have organised everything as well as we possibly could. We will leave after the last food delivery through the Arab traders at noon."

"Well done, Captain. And I believe I still owe you to express my gratitude", Turner speaks calmly. "I don't understand, Sir. What for?", Dietrich inquires with a puzzled expression. "For saving my life. You organised the First Aid team that helped me, as Doctor Andrews told me. I failed to address you in the past few days, but want to do so now, Captain", Turner replies. "I only did my duty, Major", the German insists with a frown. "That's more or less the sentence I expected from you. You're troublesome, but a good and dutiful officer nonetheless, Captain Dietrich. I appreciate your qualities and so does the General, although he has a strange way of communicating this." "Indeed", the young Captain states icily, before taking his chance to switch the awkward topic: "How is General Atkins?" "Not as well as I would have hoped. When he woke up earlier, he just stared ahead without really realizing we were there. He didn't even eat or drink of his own accord. Your Doctor Sommer said this is a typical reaction after an overdose and it would pass after a few days", Turner explains with obvious concern. "Hopefully it will", Dietrich mutters quietly. "We will transport you together with most of the medical equipment and some of the personnel in a separate truck from the other patients. However we need to split most of the personnel between the different trucks transporting the wounded. The Red Cross also have their own truck still and will accompany us, as our situation warrants their emergency support."

"I will only tell you this only once, Dietrich, but I was impressed by your decision to forgo any requests and call the Red Cross. That was the moment I realized that General Atkins had actually chosen you well as a commander for a commando unit", Turner tells the slightly astounded German Captain with a smirk. "But as your commanding officer I have to reprimand you of course for such a behaviour and remind you of your duty to obey your superiors' orders." "Of course, Major", Dietrich replies dryly. "Am I dismissed?" "You are, Captain. Heed my words though! Don't try to antagonize your superiors too openly. You have one big disadvantage compared to our other commando officers, your German heritage. I'd rather keep you alive and on active duty than see you accused of treason, Captain." "I understand, Major", the German answers with a dark tone and grim expression. Scenes of Metzlich and Waldheim interrogating him appear unbidden in front of his mental eye. "Nobody knows the consequence of such behaviour better than I", he adds hoarsely, actively struggling to draw himself out of the flashback. Sam Troy, who has seen him pale and his gaze become glazed and haunted, puts his hand on the younger German's shoulder which helps the Captain to find an anchor grounding him in reality. Shaking his head to get rid of the dark thoughts, Dietrich draws himself up to stand at attention, clicking his heels and saluting with his left, before he turns to leave the sickbay without another word, lest his dark memories take over his perception again.

Once outside Troy confronts the younger man. "You could have told me that you were engaged once instead of saying that you have no experience with marriage!", he growls angrily, feeling betrayed by the German. "I have no experience with marriage and I was engaged for merely two weeks before I had to follow Rommel to Italy. I've never seen my fiance again and I never will, as her own people killed her, because the man she was engaged to was a German. How would that have been any consolation for you, Troy?", the Captain snaps back, looking more cornered and defensive than aggressive or angry. Troy reins in his own anger with effort. "You're right. That wouldn't have helped. So, what the heck happened with the nurse?" "Troy, leave her be! Nurse O'Donnell is traumatised enough so that I would not take everything seriously that she says or does right now and certainly not hold it against her", the German replies with a frown. "How did you end up telling Lisa Hartigan of all people something like this? She is the greatest gossiper in camp", Troy asks incredulously. "That position might actually become rivaled by your brother now", the Captain comments dryly, dodging the question. "Suit yourself, Dietrich. But don't say I didn't warn you", Troy replies grumpily. "I appreciate your effort, Sergeant. But I doubt that my reputation can suffer any more after all the gossip that has already been running before that. Even Lisa Hartigan cannot beat Hitchcock's special friend Andy Newman after all." "That damned weasel Newman!", Troy starts cursing immediately. "Look at the bright side, Troy. This will be one application I will definitely not have to read. It's bad enough your brother gets strange ideas, when the morphine meddles with his brain", Dietrich states with dry sarcasm.

"Davey's quite serious, I fear", Sam Troy growls. "He's not been confined in sickbay for long enough to be that desperate yet", the German comments dryly. "You don't know Davey. When he has one of his fixed ideas, he'll do everything to get there. And he's far better at wearing you down than you are at resisting him, when he triggers your humanist streak. You gave him far too many chances already. That's why he likes you", Sam Troy tells him with an accusatory tone. "Are you accusing me of spoiling your little brother, Sergeant?", the tall Captain asks slightly incredulously. "Wait for it. In a month or so, you'll actually feel sorry for him and take him in. Jack's right. You really are the expert for adopting strays", Troy holds against him. "That's quite enough, Sergeant Troy! You seem to forget that I'm your commanding officer, not one of your Yankee buddies", the German officer growls with annoyance. "You offered me a probation on friendship. That includes speaking one's mind", Troy counters and the younger Captain glares at him. "Try not to make it sound like I'm your younger brother", he snaps testily.

Reaching Boggs' tent ends their heated discussion, as both enter with an icy expression. James Boggs looks between the two and decides quickly that he actually does not need to know what has happened. If it would be important, Dietrich would be diligent enough to report to him unlike Troy. "Major Turner is recovering. General Atkins is still unconscious and his state not optimal", the German officer reports after a sharp salute with his left arm. "Major Bracken will also send us several British tank operators for training." "Excellent, Captain. Any further things to report?", Boggs inquires. Troy briefly exchanges a glance with the German Captain who narrows his eyes, then turns back to Boggs. "Lieutenant Haberfeld is recovering and should be able to be reinstated as senior officer of the German POWs before our arrival at Tobruk." Boggs nods. "That is good news. Leaving the POWs without any German speaking senior officer would be a problem." Dietrich smiles wryly. "Indeed. Marcello is special after all, but not the optimal choice for a senior officer independent of being Italian."

Lieutenant Johnson's arrival with a dozen British soldiers, all rather short and stocky, interrupts them. "These are the tank operators who volunteered to learn to operate the German Tiger tanks", he tells Dietrich. "Gentlemen", the German addresses them formally and salutes sharply with his left. All British soldiers provide their own sharp salutes in return. "I will introduce you to the specialties of the Tiger IV tanks and what to particularly take care of, when operating them", Dietrich declares coolly. A few of the men nod, most eye the tall former Panzer Hauptmann with curiosity. "Follow me please, gentlemen", the German Captain states and leads the men out of the tent toward the location of the fake camp where they have parked the German tanks as a distraction. Inspecting the vehicles closely, Hans Dietrich decides which tanks to keep for their continued mission, while the others will be disabled and disbanded to keep any parts as spares for their active tanks which would be impossible to get in the desert and without German supply lines otherwise.

Climbing up on the first of the tanks to keep, the Captain motions for Troy to open the hatch, before looking down into the vehicle. As there is not enough room for fourteen people, Dietrich decides to train six people each a time, with Troy standing at the hatch, on the outside to act as a guard. For the next hour, the German shows the Brits the detailed handling and the tricks required for operating the Tiger tanks and Sam Troy becomes aware how technically skilled the younger officer actually is, given that he has never seen him actively operating such a tank before. Tully will definitely like to talk to someone who can appreciate the technical details of his finetuning of the Jeeps or the radio. After Dietrich leaves the tanks behind and orders the men to continue training and take the other tanks apart for spare parts, Troy asks him: "Why exactly didn't you ride in a tank more often, when you're so skilled with handling these things, Captain?" Dietrich eyes him with slight amusement. "I would have thought that after your expedition inside one of these tins you know how hot it gets in there. I'm from the North of Germany and I really find heat without any draft or wind rather unbearable."

"That's why you've always ridden on top of these vehicles?", Troy asks bemusedly. "The airflow during driving and the elevated position to observe our environment", Dietrich replies coolly. "Although the exposed position in addition to the obvious officer's cap and rank insignia has been a risk for sniper attacks." Troy grimaces at the words. "The other reason is that I'm simply too tall for a tank operator", Dietrich tells him with a smirk. "As the space in there is rather limited and people have to sit cramped up, there are maximum heights for the men operating them on a regular basis which I am surpassing. Luckily as a tank commander I didn't have to actually be inside the tanks but rather direct them from some observation position through hand signs. A keen sight and the ability for strategic planning is what is mainly required for the job." "Yeah. I noticed it's pretty cramped and damn hot in there. Wouldn't wanna do that all the time", Troy comments. "So what now?"

"I will join Sergeant Moffit now for the investigation of the British archaeologist's, Jonathan Harper's, diary and notes. Both Moffit and I currently suspect the Professor's assistant to be involved in something shady, but we both couldn't yet tell you what exactly and whether it concerns Harper's strange behaviour and ritualistic performances at all. I understand that you don't want to be bothered with reading books and notes on the man's life, his scientific research or some strange invocations, but I would appreciate, if you could stay in the vicinity in case we have to arrest the man", Dietrich informs him. "I can inconspicuously keep an eye on that guy in the meantime", Troy states with grim determination. "I'll really feel a lot safer when we actually have arrested somebody. And when you can both confirm to me that this is all just something natural that you or Jack can explain, 'cause I sure don't wanna get involved with some supernatural entities, gods, cults, curses and whatnot." "As Moffit will confirm to you as well, there is always some natural explanation. You just require the necessary scientific education and need to investigate properly", Dietrich tells him with furrowed brows. "Spoken like the actual Sherlock Holmes, Captain", Troy tells him with a grin, before adding with a more worried tone: "I really can't wait until you and Jack provide me with that scientific explanation." "Keep an eye on Doctor Martin, Troy! When he does something strange, inform us! Otherwise you will notice, when we come to interrogate him."

"Awhooo!", Hitch pretends to howl like a wolf to demonstrate the word to Ari. Fritz pricks up his ears and looks around with puzzlement. When the Private howls a second time, the little dog actually starts whining and presses against Ari, looking scared with its tail between its legs. Mark bears a guilty expression, when he hears Fritz whimpering. "Fritz. It was just me. Don't be scared!" Although Fritz does not understand him, he appreciates the calming tone and the hand scratching him behind the ears. Also the strange howls have stopped, so he relaxes again. "What's going on?", Sam Troy bellows, as he storms into the tent with his hand gun drawn and frantically checks the interior for canine intruders. Ari starts crying and buries his face in Hitch's shirt who looks taken aback and out of his depth what to do with the wailing child in addition to the whining dog. Maybe he should get Ari to Captain Dietrich, who knows better how to handle the crying boy? Ari's reaction finally brings Troy back to his senses, as the Sergeant puts the gun back into his holster and more calmly than before speaks with the panicked child, bearing a sheepish expression. "I'm sorry, Ari. I didn't want to scare you. I was worried because of the howls from the tent." Ari is still crying and getting out in between sobs: "Where ... is Hans?" Troy and Hitch exchange worried glances. "Bring him to the Captain. He's at Boggs' office tent", the Sergeant advises with a frown. "We're going to Cap... Hans", Hitch stumbles over his words, hoping that the German Captain will never hear about him using his first name. "Don't worry, Ari. Can you walk or should I carry you?" The prospect of going to his brother helps to calm Ari who mutters: "I can walk."

Captain Boggs, First Lieutenant Adams, Sergeant Moffit and Captain Dietrich all look up with bafflement, as Mark Hitchcock enters the office tent with his left arm wrapped around the crying boy's shoulder and the bedraggled looking Fritz trotting behind him with hanging head and tail. The German Captain's eyes narrow dangerously, as he snarls: "What did you do, Hitchcock?" Squatting before Ari, the young officer does not get much of a chance to say anything else, before the child wraps his arms around his neck and starts crying into his shoulder, while Fritz nestles against his shin with a whine. Looking up at Hitchcock, Hans Dietrich merely raises his eyebrows in a questioning manner, while he speaks soothingly with the boy. The tone of his voice also serves to calm the distraught little dog. "I honestly didn't do anything, Cap", Hitch provides his desperate justification looking almost as much like a beaten dog as Fritz has at their arrival. "I tried to show Ari what the word 'howling' means, when Sarge just stormed in with his gun drawn and looked around maniacally, like we had a werewolf in the tent or something." His anger is clearly visible on the German Captain's face, as he snarls: "Troy. Has he completely lost his mind now?" "Where is Sergeant Troy now, Private Hitchcock?", Captain Boggs inquires to keep his younger colleague from getting even more agitated. "I dunno, Captain Boggs. Sarge just said he'll keep an eye on some fishy guy and to bring the kid to you, Cap", Hitch answers appearing obviously nervous, as he looks from Boggs back to Dietrich.

"Let's hope he doesn't act in any way rash and stupid", Jack Moffit states dryly. "He'll act exactly like that. We can only hope the damage won't be too large", Dietrich comments with dry sarcasm, as he guides Ari to follow him. The boy presses his head against the German Captain's left side, listening to his steady heartbeat which finally helps to calm him. "Sit down, Ari", the young officer orders gently, before inquiring more sternly: "Moffit, can you spare a sheet of paper and a pencil?" "Of course, Captain", the British scholar answers and stands up to put both in front of the younger officer who requires his good arm for calming the boy right now. "Why don't you try to draw Fritz?", Dietrich suggests to Ari who looks at him with puzzlement. "What is 'draw', Hans?" The German looks rather astonished from Moffit to Hitchcock. The Brit merely shrugs, while Hitch bites his lip and starts to fidget with his kepi. Sighing at their utter lack of support, Hans starts his own explanation: "To draw means to create a picture of something on a wall or a carpet or a piece of paper. You have seen the colorful carpets at the bazaar, haven't you?" Ari nods. "How can you make a carpet out of Fritz with this?", the boy asks, completely lacking the understanding. In spite of the situation, none of the men can suppress a snort of laughter at the innocent question, as even Boggs looks bemused.

Smiling with amusement, the German Captain explains calmly: "I won't make a carpet out of Fritz, don't worry. But the idea is to create an image like the flowers and shapes on the carpet." "Oh", Ari mumbles with a tone of admiration mixed with astonishment. "How do you do that?" "You can make lines and shapes on the paper with the pencil, like this", the young officer demonstrates drawing a few lines outlining a sitting canine, before he has to give up on the finer sketching due to his aching right shoulder. "That looks like Fritz", Ari stares at the lines in wonder trying to comprehend the concept of the roughly sketched paper dog. "But he needs eyes and a nose and feet." "You can add these, now that you have seen how to do this", Hans tells him quickly and hands over the pencil to the eager boy. "The line is too big", Ari complains after his first few tries. "You should learn how to use this and then you can try with another sheet of paper. Mark Hitchcock will look after you and help you", Dietrich tells the boy with a gentle tone and focuses the Private in a steely gaze that immediately deters him from even considering resistance. "Where will you go, Hans?", Ari asks with worry and concern. "I will be right over here and help Jack Moffit. You don't have to worry, Ari", the Captain tries to calm him.

When he turns around to sit down next to Moffit again, he notices Captain Boggs approaching him with a worried expression. "Should we send somebody after Sergeant Troy?", he inquires quietly from the British Sergeant and the German Captain. Dietrich and Moffit exchange a glance, before the younger officer answers: "I don't think that Sergeant Troy will start murdering civilians, even if he is rather on edge right now. The rabies cases and the ritual are wearing down his nerves and I wouldn't have expected to ever see the day that this actually happens." "You're right, Captain Dietrich", Jack confirms. "I doubt that showing Troy our distrust by sending someone after him will help in this already tense situation, Captain Boggs." The older Captain frowns and still appears worried, but nods in acceptance. "Thank you for your recommendation, gentlemen." When Boggs retreats to his desk again and Dietrich sits down next to Moffit, the British Sergeant whispers quietly enough for only him to hear: "Thank you for showing Troy that much trust!" "Don't tell him, Moffit!", the German counters dryly. "He's obsessed enough with his probation and ... other things." Jack frowns, when he recognizes a flicker of emotion on the otherwise controlled appearing Captain's face, but does not wish to dwell on it here and now.

"As I wanted to show you before, Captain", the British scholar addresses him in his usual lecture tone, "there are several passages in the diary, I would like you to read and double check. I kept notes of the dates on this paper." Dietrich picks up the diary and starts to check the diary entries, the first dating back only a few days. 'The Weigher of the Souls is calling for me. I must present to him my soul, clean and strong. The blood of Anubis' servant has given me the strength to make it this far, I will not falter now.' Harper has definitely lost his sanity already by then and completely succumbed to his notion of serving Anubis. The entries before and after this one are equally short, but often more garbled and less clearly intelligible. Dietrich turns the pages to get to the next section, Moffit has considered as interesting.

The entry is less than a month old from the 2nd of November. Here, Harper describes how Doctor Martin has finally managed to acquire the script he has been longing for, a papyrus from Thebes which describes a ritual for invoking Anubis. He furrows his brows. Apparently, the information the young man, Mister Ryan, has overheard has been correct and Martin has been the source providing Harper with materials. Although the papyrus is a fake, this does not automatically incriminate the man of having known that, but it raises suspicions.

The German tenses, as he reads the next date and realises that Moffit has not ordered them chronologically. The 12th of November has been a fateful day for him, the day the SS have arrested him at General König's residence in Koorlea under suspicion of treason. For Jonathan Harper it has been a fateful day as well, as it was the day when he prepared the ritual which he describes in great detail. A passage immediately catches the Captain's attention. 'Doctor Martin has introduced me to the man at the caravanserai who can provide me with any animal I wish for and today is the day that he can finally deliver my jackal. Even bound and sedated, he is a beautiful animal. He will be a worthy sacrifice for Anubis and his life force will strengthen me to serve my Lord.' Again this Doctor Martin, although not directly involved this time. Dietrich shudders slightly at the fanaticism he can read between the lines. Harper's gradual loss of sanity becomes clearer in this passage compared to the previous entry.

As the German officer continues reading the actual details of the ritual as described by Harper himself, his stomach turns and at some point he has to stop to gather his bearings and take a deep breath. Luckily, Ari is too focused on trying to create a picture of Fritz who has curled up under Hitchcock's chair to notice his brother losing most of the color from his face. Moffit looks up from his own reading though and spares the young Captain a look of sympathy, knowing what to find in the texts. "They were right. Harper did not just kill that jackal, he slaughtered the animal slowly and brutally, cutting it apart while still alive, until he finally stabbed it through the heart which must have been a mercy", the German mutters looking utterly distraught. "Why would he do this in such a manner? The ritual text Yates read to us said nothing about such a gruesome way of performing the ritual." "I found notes for the instruction on a different page with some dark smears on it, I assume are blood", Moffit answers him. "He got these from Martin as well. And the most disturbing part is that they instruct the performer of the ritual to commit ceremonial suicide at its end." "That fits with Hendrick's recount. But if the ritual was a fake, so were the additional instructions you assume, Doctor?", Dietrich inquires. "Yes, exactly, Captain", Jack answers with a smile, glad to have found somebody who will intellectually keep up with him. "Although Martin has been too clever to just give him the description directly, as that might have made Harper hesitate. Instead he has given him the letter I have right here, written by a Capitaine Lefebre, an officer of Napoleon's army, dated to Octobre 24, 1800."

The German Captain scowls. "Martin faked a letter from an officer of Napoleon's expedition guarding the Egyptian treasure? Why? To make his ruse around the ritual believable? But what would he gain from goading Harper into performing such a gruesome ritual, when did not even actively participate? To manipulate him into committing suicide? I fail to understand the motive behind these deeds." Dietrich looks as confused as the questions he has posed sound. Moffit smiles the patient smile of an instructor who tutors a talented student facing a challenge. "Because you are a good and honest man, Captain Dietrich, and you also think like one. Who would the students turn to, now that their colleague has died? Their weird Professor?" "They will turn to Martin, as the reasonable one, the second in command after the Professor. But what does he want, except for playing the little power he has over the few young men here, stranded in the desert in an archaeological camp of little to no relevance? Manipulating them into such crazy actions should not be so easy for the rest of them, as they don't seem to share Harper's fanaticism."

Jack Moffit scratches his head, as he looks at the young German officer intently. "Maybe this is a British thing, then, Captain, since you have never heard of this. But we have been struggling a lot with con artists, pretending to be cult leaders or experts for the occult in addition to archaeology and history in the past two decades. Ever since Howard Carter discovered Pharaoh Tutankhamun's tomb, people were obsessed with ancient Egypt again and willing to pay large sums to participate in the strangest kind of rituals or parties which have become fashionable. For example they had parties for unwrapping mummies to see what was hidden underneath their linen bandages and discover some treasure." Seeing the Captain's incredulous expression, Moffit adds: "I have of course never attended those. But my father used to complain about these terrible fashions a lot, when we returned to London after leaving Munich, as it destroyed invaluable historical and archaeological discoveries."

Dietrich appears still incredulous, shaking his head in disbelief, as he inquires: "You think that Martin is a con artist who wants to play the role of the cult leader and get these naive young men to follow him?" Jack nods. "Moffit, that's even more absurd than the Axis side sending a spy to infiltrate the camp and manipulating the inhabitants to systematically distrust each other and goad them into actions which make them perfect targets for blackmail", the German argues. "Which might also be an explanation. We don't know anything about Martin's motive and it's hard to guess from the texts we have here alone", the Brit replies. "But they serve as circumstantial evidence", Dietrich summarises his line of thought. "Should we then arrest him for his own protection, before Troy actually does some harm to him?" "Do you find this evidence sufficient to warrant an arrest, Captain?", Jack inquires and the German frowns, then shakes his head. "Hardly. We're not in my homeland and the Gestapo after all", he comments dryly with a pained expression. "I did not read beyond this part of the diary, as I studied the letters in addition. You might find something there, Captain", Jack advises.

Scanning over the entries which often describe research details, interactions with his friends and the progression of their excavations, Dietrich finds something interesting more than two months ago. As he starts reading, the young officer realizes that the incident with the Jackal is described here from Harper's perspective. Apparently, he has indeed thought little about it at that time and noted the mocking remark 'Anubis seems to have chosen me' even in his diary. What is interesting for the German Captain is that Doctor Martin has been the one providing First Aid after the incident. Jonathan Harper only describes having his wound disinfected and bandaged, but no additional measures taken to prevent infection, although he probably has not known about them in detail. Then, on the next day Martin has given him an additional medication in a syringe which he had to acquire first from the local town. Something appears strange to the German officer, but he cannot quite put his finger on it.

As he turns the pages backward in the diary, two news articles fall into Dietrich's hands. The first is from the 14th of January 1941 with the headline 'Cult Members found dead - Charismatic Leader disappeared'. Dietrich frowns, as he continues reading. 'In a peculiar and most mystifying turn of events, a group of London's esoteric enthusiasts has met an untimely demise within the confines of a Trafalgar Square abode. The eerie discovery unfolded as dawn's light cast its somber glow upon the scene. Astonishingly, the lifeless forms of these devotees exhibited no traces of physical harm, their earthly vessels arranged with an otherworldly precision to shape the sacred pentagram. As the shadows of the full moon waned, so too did the vitality of these disciples, leaving a perplexing enigma in the heart of our fair city. The mystic arts have woven an impenetrable veil around this unsettling tableau, beckoning the curious minds of our metropolis to fathom the inexplicable. Curiously absent from this spectral tableau is the figurehead of this clandestine congregation, the reputedly magnetic cult maestro and erstwhile London apothecary, Mr. Lawrence Ashbury. A mere span of thirty years adorns his mortal frame, crowned by a chestnut coiffure meticulously groomed. His stature, a modest 5 feet and 7 inches, adds further intrigue to this macabre affair.' The Captain merely scans the rest of the article asking for hints to be given to the London police. Troy is right after all. Some of the Brits are truly more lunatic than he could ever have imagined.

Then he turns to the second article which is smaller and far less interesting at first sight. 'In a riveting chronicle that harkens to the days of yore, Doctor Rudolph Martin regales readers with his extraordinary exploits as a youthful aide to the esteemed Howard Carter during the epochal unearthing of King Tutankhamun's sepulcher in the year 1922. The arcane treasures concealed within the ancient chambers come to life in Martin's narrative, unveiling the secrets of a bygone era. With eloquent prose, the good Doctor unfolds the tapestry of his adventures, shedding light on the mystical atmosphere that enveloped the sacred expedition. One can almost sense the antiquity in the air as he recounts the momentous occasion when the tomb's sanctity was breached, revealing the resplendent legacy of the boy pharaoh. In a particularly captivating flourish, Doctor Martin presents to our discerning eyes an ushabti, plucked from the very bosom of Tutankhamun's resting place. This exquisite artifact, imbued with the essence of ancient Egypt, stands testament to the unparalleled craftsmanship of a civilization lost in the annals of time. As the sands of the past are sifted through the sieve of Doctor Rudolph Martin's words, a vivid tableau emerges, transporting us to the epoch of archaeological wonder and discovery. The ageless allure of Egyptology is revitalized through this captivating account, beckoning us to partake in the grandeur of an era long past.'

The German frowns immediately, as he reads through the first sentence of the article. "Moffit, how old do you guess Doctor Martin is?", he asks the Brit, once he has finished reading. Jack is stunned by the unexpected question. "I would guess 30, maybe 35 years old, somewhere at the age between me and Troy. Why do you ask, Captain?" "That would have been my guess as well, Doctor. Yet, I have a news article here stating that Doctor Rudolph Martin was a young assistant of Howard Carter when they found and opened Tutanchamun's tomb in 1922, 20 years ago. There is even a small photography of the man who is a lot shorter and fair haired than our Rudolph Martin. In addition, our man here is not possibly old enough for that", the Captain tells him.

"So Harper even knew he was dealing with an impostor. Why would he believe him then?", Jack inquires with a frown. "I have here a second article from January 1941, describing the London police discovering the dead bodies of a whole cult on the morning after the full moon. All bodies showed no marks of violence or external force applied and were positioned in the form of a pentagram. Only a single body was missing to complete the geometric structure, the body of the allegedly charismatic cult leader, the former London apothecary Lawrence Ashbury. The newspaper described him as a man in his early thirties of a height of 5 ft 7' and with brown hair which he keeps well-trimmed. His description matches our Doctor Martin rather well, wouldn't you think so? Jonathan Harper might have thought that he could blackmail Ashbury into providing him with materials which would have been unavailable for him otherwise", Dietrich argues.

Moffit looks up. "Now I understand this letter here better. It's from Harper's mother and she tells him that when he reads it, she will already be dead. But he need not worry, as she will move on to a better world. Then she describes some strange practices and invocations which must be connected to some cult, as it does not sound Christian at all and mixes Egyptian, Celtic, Greek and Roman Mythology with Christian formulations of prayers." Dietrich pales, as he asks the Brit slightly incredulously: "He blackmailed the man he thought had either killed his own mother through some poison or manipulated her into committing suicide in the name of a heathen cult?" Moffit shrugs. "We have rather clear evidence that Doctor Martin is not who he pretends to be. But we still don't know for sure whether Martin indeed is Ashbury and how Harper's own death and turning to the ritual is connected to the deaths of the cultists. I suppose we should start to interrogate the man, as I doubt that we will find any further evidence in this regard here. Neither are we the London police, nor was Jonathan Harper." Dietrich nods cautiously at the Brit's argument, then hesitates and turns the pages of the diary back to the jackal attack, reading the entry of the day after the attack again. "Lieutenant Adams, could you summon somebody familiar with Anglo Saxon medication from the sickbay, please. It's urgent", he addresses the older officer who salutes and takes off without further questions. Dietrich perfectly understands why Boggs keeps him as his right hand man. Adams is by far the most compliant and uncomplicated U.S. army officer in camp with the notable exception of Boggs himself.

"What did you find, Captain Dietrich?", Boggs and Moffit address the German simultaneously now and even Hitch listens in curiously, while trying to keep Ari distracted, as the boy makes his third attempt of drawing Fritz who snores softly, curled up under the chair. The younger Captain points to the diary entry, as he explains: "There was something I found strange when reading it first, but now it starts to fit in the puzzle we are trying to solve here. Harper wrote on the day after the attack that Doctor Martin injected him with a red substance in a syringe. He explained that he had to acquire this special medication from the local town to protect him from infection, which took a day." Both men look confused. "Why is this strange, Captain Dietrich?", Boggs inquires without seeing what the German is playing at. "I've been a frontline soldier since 1939", Dietrich replies with a stern expression and serious tone. "But in all these years and time spent in French, German, Swiss, British and American field hospitals I have never encountered such a manner of treatment to protect somebody against infection, have you?" Now that he thinks about it in more detail, Boggs shakes his head. "I want to call a medically more educated person to confirm this suspicion though which Lieutenant Adams is taking care of right now", the German adds.

Then, he draws himself up to his full height and declares with a serious tone: "In addition, I can assure you that the local town has no apothecary, even less one dealing with Western medicine which he would have to, if he sells a medication which has to be injected with a syringe. I would know, since I was that town's commander for months after all. Or do you really think I would have gone into the locals' houses myself to inject the sick women and children with the antibiotic treatment during the local epidemic, if there would have been a different option and somebody skilled with this type of medication and its application from the town?" Dietrich's gaze has wandered to Ari, while both Moffit and Boggs stare at him. "Of course. This makes sense", the British Sergeant confirms. "If there was no source for the medication, what did Martin inject him with?", Boggs inquires with confusion.

Dietrich scowls darkly, as he growls: "I have a suspicion. Harper described the substance as a dark red liquid and that the Arabs working in the camp killed the rabid jackal on the previous evening, the one of the day of his attack." Moffit gasps and stares at him incredulously, while Boggs mutters: "My god." "So you think he injected him with the rabid jackal's blood on purpose, Captain?", Jack asks. "It appears that this diary is indeed very informative, Doctor", Dietrich tells him with a wry smile countering his otherwise grim expression. "But why would he do that?", James Boggs looks truly unsettled now, as he poses the question. "In January 1941, Harper's mother died unexpectedly. She was found dead along with other members of a cult whose leader, an apothecary named Lawrence Ashbury, had disappeared. Now Mister Ashbury's description fits the Rudolph Martin we have here in camp who does not in the least fit the age, description and photography provided by another news article Harper has acquired. Harper learned about the details from these news articles which describe the cult leader and the actual Doctor Martin whose fate we have no idea of. I assume he blackmailed the man who is responsible for his mother's death. To what end though, I have no idea. But this fake Doctor Martin has provided him with faked instructions for a ritual that culminates in the ceremonial suicide of the performer." "You're right, Captain Dietrich. You should arrest and interrogate this man", Boggs confirms, as Lieutenant Adams enters the tent followed by Deirdre O'Donnell.

The nurse blushes slightly, as she sees the German Captain, while Dietrich keeps his face stern, too focused on the grim investigation to let the nurse's emotions distract him. "Lieutenant O'Donnell", the tall officer addresses her and shifts the diary in her direction to allow her to read the passage he is pointing out to the confused nurse, as he addresses her with cool politeness: "Would you please read this description of the medical treatment provided and tell me, if you know of any substance in Britain, the United States or North Africa applied for medical treatment that would fit this recount." Creasing her forehead, Deirdre starts to read and her eyes widen slightly, as she looks more and more confused and tries to think of possible explanations.

When she turns back to the German officer who is still observing her reaction closely, but hiding his concern that Adams has fetched her, the already emotionally most unstable person of the medical corps, to provide this explanation. Although the Captain does not doubt her expertise, he doubts how well she can handle what she is confronted with here. With a slightly trembling lip, the young woman addresses him again: "Captain Dietrich. I... I'm really sorry. I couldn't think of any substance that would do this. Trying to prohibit an infection after a day is usually far too late." Dietrich nods and smiles, trying to reassure her. "Thank you, Lieutenant. This confirms my suspicions, but I wanted to hear an expert's opinion." Deirdre smiles briefly at being considered an expert, before her face falls again, as she averts her eyes from the young Captain's face with an awkward expression. "Do you need anything else from me, Captain Dietrich?", she inquires. "No, thank you, Lieutenant O'Donnell. That was all. You're dismissed", Dietrich replies calmly, deciding not to unsettle her any more by diverging from polite formality.

Without providing room for any further questions, the German Captain addresses Captain Boggs: "We should put the man under arrest now. Either he is just a fugitive criminal from British justice or a potential spy and murderer. I would not put it beyond Abwehr or the SS to hire someone like that as a spy and infiltrator, promising him asylum and amnesty in the German Reich." The last part is snarled with disdain and Ari looks up with worry, asking: "Hans? What's wrong?" Dietrich takes a deep breath and reins in his anger, before answering in a calm and reassuring tone: "I'm sorry, Ari. I didn't want to scare you. Jack Moffit and I will leave now to take care of something very important, but you don't have to worry." "Will you come back?", Ari asks with obvious worry. "Of course, I will come back", the young officer replies with a more gentle expression. "Try to make a good drawing of Fritz until then!" The boy smiles again. "I will... Oh, I need a new paper." Smiling himself, Hitch hands the child another sheet of paper which he has just grabbed from Moffit's stack of still empty sheets of paper.

Jack Moffit follows Hans Dietrich at his hand signal outside without drawing further attention from Ari. "I suggest we take Pettigrew and Gottschlich with us in addition to Troy. I want to secure the vicinity in case the man does something stupid and neither of the two of us is in any fit state to physically struggle with him right now, Moffit", the German officer argues with a serious expression. "Do you really think the man might physicall attack us? He's a civilian and we're trained soldiers", the Brit inquires. "He's also someone willing to kill at least indirectly and in a rather cold blooded and manipulative way that I find disconcerting, Doctor. I'd rather be safe than sorry and don't wish to risk anybody's life unnecessarily, including our own", the Captain counters with some concern audible in his tone. "This is one of your qualities, Captain", Moffit replies with a smile. "Let's find Tully and Gottschlich!"

The two soldiers still prepare their intended Jeeps in the motor pool, as Tully shows the young Japanese descended Corporal how to best tune the Jeep beyond its original performance. "Hey, Cap, Doc. What's up?", the Kentuckian inquires, frowning slightly. "Private Pettigrew, Corporal Gottschlich, we require your assistance for the arrest of Doctor Martin", Dietrich declares with due formality. "Yes, Sir", Gottschlich confirms and salutes. Tully nods and hands his comrade a machine gun, while Moffit arms himself in the meantime. "Either we will find Troy who is already stalking the man or we ask the Professor where his assistant is right now. Follow me please, gentlemen, and keep your eyes open!", the German officer instructs matter-of-factually, not even considering to take a larger gun for himself. "Sure, Cap", Tully comments, shifting his matchstick.

As they do not run into Sam Troy or Rudolph Martin, they turn toward the British Professor's tent. Horus, the falcon, sits perched on a scaffold specifically constructed for him, while the Professor looks through lists of artefacts with his nose almost touching the paper. When the men enter, he looks up and shifts his gaze from one blurred figure to the other, appearing clearly astonished. "Good morning, Professor Stevenson. We are looking for Doctor Martin. Do you know where he is right now?", Dietrich asks with a carefully controlled tone. Professor Stevenson repositions his glasses and looks at the tall German with obvious curiosity, as he answers coolly: "Rudolph? Oh, I believe he went out to the spot where the mummy was burnt by these Philistines. Somebody has to check, whether something salvageable remains." Moffit inquires with more urgency than the Captain: "Why didn't you go with him?" The elderly Professor chuckles, as he tells him: "My dear young fellow. My old bones don't take to kneeling in the sand so well anymore, as they did in the days of my youth. You will think of me, when you see these days, Moffit junior." Dietrich silently motions for the others to follow him, as he states curtly: "Thank you, Professor, for your help. Goodbye." As they leave, they hear the old man grumbling: "At least they still teach them some manners in Germany... not like these uncouth Yankees. No greeting whatsoever. Chewing on sticks. Youth nowadays, they have no manners at all." Tully appears still completely unperturbed, as he continues chewing on his matchstick, while Gotty appears a bit embarrassed.

"I wonder where Troy is?", Moffit mutters to the tall Captain, trying not to be heard by the two soldiers following them. "Hopefully, not doing something overly stupid", the German growls, still angry with the Sergeant for having scared Ari unnecessarily. Then, he turns back to the two soldiers and orders: "We try not to be seen, as we approach. Keep low and silent, gentlemen!" Tully nods with a grim smile. Precise, clear, well thought through orders are what he actually appreciates about Dietrich as a CO. Gotty salutes wordlessly and Jack Moffit also nods in acknowledgement. All four approach in silence from then onward, when Tully touches Dietrich on the upper arm and whispers: "Take a look at that, Cap!" Squinting, the German officer tries to make out what the American Private is referring to. When he makes out drag marks forming a disrupted trail in the sand. "Something was dragged there", he mutters with a dark tone, as Moffit and Gottschlich look where he is pointing. "Don't like this, Cap!", Tully grumbles. "Me neither, Pettigrew", the Captain replies with a worried scowl. "Stay vigilant and keep stealthy!"

The four soldiers stay low and crouched, as they scale the final dune. Dietrich and Tully are faster than the Brit who still struggles with his breathing from time to time and the Japanese-American who has too little experience with moving in the shifting desert sands to keep up with the experienced desert veterans. Both Captain and Private stop short and stare with dread at what they see below. Sam Troy lies in the sand, bound, gagged and apparently unconscious. The man they know as Rudolph Martin currently spills the content of a gasoline cannister onto the Sergeant, which he must have stolen from one of the Jeeps in the motor pool in the current chaos of the evacuation. Only exchanging a brief glance, both draw their weapons simulataneously. While Tully points his machine gun at the man with an expression bearing actual hatred, the German officer bellows: "Drop that cannister and step back from him, Martin!" The man flinches, drops the cannister, but as he turns around, the Brit produces an electric lighter in his hands which he must have lit with uncanny dexterity and holds the device out for them to see. "If you shoot me, your comrade will be burnt alive!", the British criminal shouts back. "If you harm him, you will not make it out of here alive. And even if you would actually manage that, we will hunt you to the end of the earth, if need be!", the Captain snarls lividly. "I recommend you act carefully, unless you want to see your friend die, Captain!", the professional con man counters, having read and intepreted the emotional reaction with ease.

"I can't shoot him. Or he'll drop the lighter", Tully mutters, sounding desperate. "What do you want, Doctor Martin, or should we call you Mister Ashbury?", Jack Moffit inquires more coolly, although he still struggles for breath, when he sees that Dietrich is currently not fully in control of his own emotions. "Finally somebody who considers negotiating in earnest. I want a Jeep, food and water for two weeks, and that nobody follows me", the other man answers coldly, not reacting at all at the remark pointing toward his identity. "If we provide you with all that, will you let Sergeant Troy go?", Moffit inquires. "Sure, when I have put a sufficiently large distance between me and your camp." "Troy will never bear this willingly. You will kill him anyways, as he will resist and fight you. You are a cold-blooded murderer after all", Dietrich intervenes. "That's actually funny to hear from a Nazi officer." "Don't you dare call me a Nazi!", the German bellows lividly, until Jack Moffit steps in front of him, puts both hands on the younger officer's shoulders and speaks to him in a calming way: "You won't help Troy by not thinking rationally, Captain. Please calm down!" Startled enough by the unexpected physical contact and the pain shooting through his right shoulder, the tall Captain takes a calming breath, before meeting Moffit's eyes and nodding, as he mutters: "Thank you, Doctor." "You're welcome, Captain. Let's get Troy out of this mess together!", Jack whispers back, then finally removes his hands from the lean German's shoulders. Gottschlich looks desperate and even Tully seems out of ideas, as both continue pointing their guns at the man. Moffit is right. They need him to keep a cool head now. Risking Troy's life over not keeping his emotions in check would be unforgivable.

Hans Dietrich turns back toward the man holding the unconscious Sergeant hostage. "Let us assume I provide you with a Jeep and the appropriate rations and I give you my word of honor as an officer that I will not act against you, harm or hinder you in any way, will you hand over my man? Anyone in this camp can guarantee you that I will keep my word independent of how much harm that does me and who I give it to. Keeping my word to my enemies has cost me not only my career in the German army, but almost my life", the officer argues in a much calmer and more controlled tone. "I want that guarantee also for your soldiers!", Martin demands. "You have my word that none of them will shoot at you or your vehicle", the Captain formulates his promise with dedication to find the right wording. Tully and the others stare at him, but remember that Dietrich has always let them go on verbal agreement alone, independent of how murderous they have been toward his men before that. Turning to Tully, the German officer orders loudly and clearly: "Go back to camp, Private, and fetch one of the Jeeps! Stock it with enough Iron Reserves to fulfill the demand!" In a much quieter tone he adds only for Tully to hear: "And also take your own Iron Reserves for combat!" The Private briefly scowls, as his blue eyes try to read something in the Captain's brown ones, before he smiles broadly and declares: "Sure, Cap. You can count on me."

As they turn back toward the British con man the fake archaeologist smiles coldly. "Now, we will wait until your man returns with the Jeep. No need to rush anything. You can have your man back after that." "What did you do to him to knock him out? That is an actual feat more than a hundred Wehrmacht soldiers have failed to achieve", Dietrich inquires, trying to make his concern sound professional and goad the man through flattery. "He thought he was really smart, as he tried to search my possessions in our tent, while I went to fetch something for the Professor, after he had been lurking in the shadows for a while. But I prepared a special welcome for him before that. The right type of narcotics sprayed in the face and inhaled works rather quickly for knocking somebody out. Then, I just gave him another dose to assure he stays downed. So as you see, you need not worry, since your friend is still alive, Captain. I'm just a lot more competent than your Nazi soldiers" "He's my Sergeant", Dietrich corrects him sternly, glaring at the Nazi comment.

The British criminal smiles deviously, as he drawls: "Of course. Your tone was far too concerned previously to just be his commanding officer. You care about whether the man lives or dies." "I care about all my men's lives", the German argues, trying to distract the other man, as he constantly watches the American Sergeant for any sign of returning consciousness. At least Troy's chest is indeed rising and falling, indicating that he is still breathing and thus alive. "That's true, but you would still react differently, if it was some other of your men lying here", the con artist states coldly. "I observed you already yesterday, when you were in our camp and had dinner in the evening. Predicting people's relations and their weaknesses is my specialty and these are yours, Captain: pride, honor and caring about your men and even more about your friends." Dietrich and Moffit have to admit that the man's uncanny ability to read and deduct their weaknesses is scary. His ability to manipulate his cult followers as well as the young archaeologist however is undoubted by both of them by now.

"Why are you doing this?", Jack Moffit inquires, trying to buy the Captain some time to recover from the very personal emotional attacks. "Are you simply enjoying to manipulate, torture and kill people? Do you like the power you have by making people believe you're a priest of the Lord of the Dead?" "You have to know what it means to be without power to appreciate having power and using it. And I do appreciate it and even more enjoy to use it", Martin states coldly. "So you sold yourself to the Nazis or did their philosophy appeal to you so much that you came to them on your own accord?", Moffit inquires with disdain. Martin's dark and hollow laughter full of malice makes all three of his listeners shudder slightly. "I'm no Nazi and no Anubis priest either. I believe in one thing and that is good old money." Dietrich notices Sam Troy stirring slightly on the ground. "Continue distracting him. I think Troy is waking up", he tells the Brit with a whisper.

"So what happened to the actual Doctor Martin? Did you murder him as well?", Jack inquires loudly. "I have never murdered anybody, Doctor Moffit. My followers all willingly chose to end their lives. Your Captain shot Jonathan Harper and killed him, not I. And Doctor Rudolph Martin just happened to reside in the neighbouring cabin, when we moved from England to North Africa by boat. I heard him breathe heavily, retch and struggle to breathe one night. When he did not exit his cabin the next day, I decided to take a look, inofficially. He was already dead from a stroke or heart attack, somethings natural. I moved him to my cabin along with his clothes and moved mine to his, left my papers with him and took over his, merely exchanging the photographs. Changing these in a passport is simple enough, when you have an otherwise original document." He chuckles coldly. "Almost as simple as ending your life by dropping this lighter. Keep lying where you are, Sergeant Troy." Troy glares at him with an expression filled with hatred he usually reserves for people like Beckmann, Koenig 'The Butcher' and SS scum like Wannsee.

Also, all four Allied soldiers breathe a sigh of relief, when they hear the whirring sound of the Jeep's motor, as Tully approaches over the dunes. "So do we have a deal, Martin?", Dietrich shouts his inquiry. "Private Pettigrew will leave you the Jeep. We take Sergeant Troy with us, none of us will try to shoot at you or your vehicle. You have my word on that." "I want you to drop your gun now and come down from that dune to pick up your Sergeant, Captain. Your injured arm keeps you from attacking me and your men won't shoot when their commanding officer is at risk himself", Martin demands. The German officer exchanges a brief glance with Jack Moffit, before answering: "Agreed. I will come down now to help Sergeant Troy. Don't drop the lighter!" "Don't act rash, Moffit! Better live to fight another day", the Captain tells to the British Sergeant loudly, before muttering more quietly: "And keep ready to get behind the dune." Jack's eyes widen ever so slightly, when he acknowledges: "Of course, Captain."

Hans Dietrich cautiously makes his way down the dune, always keeping his eyes on the man who still holds the lighter above Troy's oil drenched body. When he is ten steps away, Martin barks: "That's close enough." Tully drives around the last dune and approaches them. "He shall park his vehicle next to me", the British criminal demands. "Pettigrew, do as he says and park the Jeep next to him! Leave the keys in the ignition!", Dietrich orders sharply. Tully nods and bites on his matchstick as he complies, taking care to position the Jeep without harming Sarge. "Let me help him get up and out of here!", the German demands in a calm tone, as Martin has to get into the car and his hands onto the steering wheel which will end his hostage situation anyways. "Take him and mind your word, Captain!" "I always do", the tall officer replies grimly exchanging a brief glance with Pettigrew, before he holds out his left arm to Sam Troy, who growls: "I can get up myself." "Don't be more stubborn than necessary, Sergeant!", Dietrich admonishes sternly, needing to get close enough to him to whisper a warning without the British conman noticing. Troy seems to read something in the German officer's brown eyes that makes him grab the offered hand and support which lasts only for about fifteen seconds of hobbling away from the Jeep, until Dietrich hisses: "Down!", as soon as he hears the Brit step onto the gas pedal.

Both feel the shock wave of the explosion propelling them forward, when a loud blast booms behind them only seconds later. Ears still ringing from the thunder, Hans Dietrich pushes himself out of the dune's sand with his good arm, groaning slightly, while Troy sits up beside him and shakes his head trying to recover from the dizziness of the drugs mixing with the vertigo originating from his short unwilling flight and the earsplitting explosion. Jack Moffit who kneels beside the two, checking them visually for injuries, hears Dietrich mumbling: "Pettigrew." Looking over his shoulder to where Corporal Gottschlich is checking on the unconscious Private, he scowls with worry. "What's going on?", Troy wants to know, once he has recovered mostly from his ordeal. "That's what I would like to hear from you, Sergeant!", the German Captain growls without actual anger, before he adds with sarcasm: "First, you go and scare innocent children and dogs. Then, you get yourself outwitted and captured by a cult leader. And when we arrive here, you're doing your best show of the damsel in distress." "Damsel in distress", the American huffs with indignation, as Jack grins. Unlike the Sergeant, he can see Tully coming to and holding his head, as can Hans Dietrich who is visibly relieved at the sight.

"At least our knight in shining armour is fine and survived his explosion unlike his trusted horse", Jack tells the two who both scramble to their feet slightly unsteadily. Dietrich stalks over to the sitting Private and eyes him with clear concern, trying to assess the extent of his injuries which seem to be limited to several burns and scratches from being caught in the explosion and thrown by the shockwave in addition to his obvious concussion. "What did you put in that Jeep, Pettigrew, to make it blow up like a whole ammunition depot?", the German officer asks with open incredulity. "Just what you said, Cap, enough Iron Reserves. I thought you meant grenades", Tully replies, trying to look up at the tall officer who crouches to make meeting his eyes easier. "I did, but I never intended to pack so many to almost blow up the whole camp", the Captain replies with an ironic smile. "Otherwise well done, Pettigrew. Even the Guardian of the Underworld will be hard challenged to collect this particular fellow for his realm." Jack grins and nods. "Indeed, Captain. That's why Egyptians were so obsessed with keeping the body intact." "If I have to hear any of this nonsense ever again, I'll commit murder myself", Troy bellows with his nerves worn to a frezzle.

"I'm sorry, Troy. We'll spare you the Egyptian research and any museum vistis in the future", Dietrich speaks in a calm and moderate tone to actually deescalate the situation. "Your loss", Jack comments dryly and finds himself at the receiving end of the angry Sergeant's annoyed glare. "Never again. Ever. When you two smartasses get involved in any of that Egyptian mumbo jumbo ever again, you can wait for Tully and Hitch to bust you out." "You can always count on me", Tully confirms. "Nothing withstands a few good old grenades." "Pettigrew, this time you've cleared earned your invitation to a drink", the German tells him which earns him an actually grateful smile filled with sympathy from the Private. "Hey. Why does he get an invitation for a drink and I never have in spite of that probation for friendship?", Troy protests. The German briefly sniffs in his direction with a look of mock disgust on his face. "Take my advise, Troy! Next time you want to get invited for a drink, don't take a shower with our gasoline first." Relieved of the stress all of them start laughing, even Gotty who is still not sure how to recognize, when the Captain is actually joking. But this time it has been obvious even for him.

With a more serious expression and tone, Hans Dietrich declares: "Let's get you two checked up in sickbay! You definitely have a concussion, Pettigrew. And I want some assurance that what he has given you in this syringe will not cause you further harm, Troy. I wouldn't have trusted that guy as far as I could throw him in my current state." "You were also taken off your feet by that explosion and sounded rather pained when getting up, Captain", Moffit admonishes him. "I've stopped counting my bruises long since I first met you, Sergeant Moffit", the German counters dryly. "Now who is unnecessarily stubborn, Captain?", Troy grumbles. "Just come with us. You basically live in that field hospital anyways. And the personnel sure likes you far better than us." Seeing the younger man blushing slightly and bristling to object, Troy finally remembers their discussion from the morning and realizes his mistake. "That's not what I meant, honestly." "What has happened?", Jack inquires curiously. "Quit sticking your noses into my current and former life!", the German Captain growls in an obviously defensive manner. "The Troy clan in and of itself is already bad enough. They don't need further assistance." "Leave him be, Jack!", Troy takes the side of the already cornered looking younger officer to all their surprise. "And you come with us, Captain. You know what? If you don't want to invite me for a drink, I'll just invite you. You're too well-bred to say 'no' to a polite invitation." The German looks too astonished to protest immediately, turning only to walk along with the group.

The medical checkup is far less problematic than the quarrels before would have suggested. Dietrich is the first to be released, as he has not actually been injured any further, but he stays to provide additional input for Doctor Andrews while the medic checks on Tully's concussion and speaks with the soldier in a calm and reassuring manner. Although the Private is a bit disappointed to not get one of the nurses for his treatment, he quickly changes his mind, when he hears Lisa Hartigan scolding Troy. "Walking into the sickbay all drenched in gasoline and you didn't even think of bringing some spare clothes, Sergeant Troy!", Hitch's girlfriend dresses him down. When Troy tries to get up, she continues her tongue lashing: "Don't even consider leaving in your current state! Your friend will take care of this." Jack Moffit knows better than to argue with a woman in her current mood and quickly retreats from the hospital, while Tully and Dietrich exchange meaningful glances, both happy not to be in Troy's position right now. "What kind of drug was he injected with?", she inquires from the German Captain who turns to come to his Sergeant's aid after a deep and weary sigh. "I can take care of myself. Look after Sarge, Cap", Tully tells him, as the young officer leaves his side. "I have no doubt of that, Pettigrew. But nobody exists who can properly take care of Troy", Dietrich mutters sarcastically as a reply to the Private's statement. In spite of everything, Tully smiles to himself. Things could have been far worth, Sarge could have been seriously injured and they could have ended up with a far worse CO than the sarcastic Jerry Captain who still cares about the wellbeing of all his men, although he would not have expected to see the day so soon to find him at his own bedside.

Lisa Hartigan questions Dietrich about what he knows regarding Troy's poisoning and is rather discontent at the less than sufficient information when the young officer summarises what they have learned from the conversation with the now dead conman. "I can look for the trap he has set for the Sergeant and acquire a sample from there, Lieutenant Hartigan", the German Captain offers in a polite manner in spite of his annoyance with her uncouth ways trying to appease her for Troy's sake. "Will you manage that with your injured arm?", she asks doubtfully. "My mobility is somewhat limited, but the treatment stifling the pain allows me to use it at all", the young officer replies with a clipped tone. "I would take Corporal Gottschlich with me as an assistant though." "Fine. Bring me that sample quickly, Captain! I cannot tell you anything about what has affected him otherwise. And you, Sergeant, will take a shower in the meantime! And don't return while you still stink of gasoline!", Lisa orders Troy around who grits his teeth to not snap back at her. "I can't imagine how Hitch manages to bear her presence for even a minute", Troy mutters to Dietrich conspiratorially, as the German turns to leave. "Try not to annoy her unnecessarily. Compared to her, I'm really tame and forgiving", the Captain replies with clear sarcasm. "You're really meek as a lamb, Captain. Please try to find that stuff quickly. I don't wanna stay any longer than necessary", Troy mutters with a grim expression. "Especially, as this is the one place neither Hitchcock nor Pettigrew will bust you out from", the Captain replies dryly. With a groan Sam Troy turns toward the showers, while Hans Dietrich briskly makes his way to the British archaeologists' tent.

"Where is Doctor Martin's area of the tent, Professor Stevenson?", he inquires from the British scholar who still studies his lists, but has taken some artefacts out of crates now. "Right over there, Captain", Stevenson replies pointing over his shoulder without even looking up from his work. The German officer stares at him incredulously now. "Sergeant Troy entered this tent earlier today. Did you notice him?" "Who?", Stevenson inquires, then provides his own answer: "Oh, yes, yes, the uncouth American. A truly archetypal example of his kind." The Captain thanks whichever deity would wish to listen that the Sergeant is not here right now to hear this or it might have been impossible to keep him from beating up the Professor. "I didn't see him, no", Stevenson continues his babbling. "Not since yesterday. Earlier, Horus had a few troubles with his digestion, poor lad. But Rudolph has taken care of him as usual and let the stink go out by opening a tent wall." Now, the whole scene becomes clearer for Hans Dietrich. Troy must have sneaked past the shortsighted old man to search the assistant's things, when he has triggered the trap. Hiding the trap, its aftereffects and the inconspicuous manner of getting rid of the unconscious man's body as the falcon's flatulence is truly a streak of genius on the dead conman's behalf. Unfortunately, he did not put this talent and mind to a more productive use for his country, turning to crime rather than supporting his homeland as an officer, spy or commando trooper.

"May I take a look, Professor, to assure that all is in order?", the young officer inquires smoothly and Stevenson is already losing interest, while he blabbers: "Yes, yes. Just don't make a mess... or any noise. Horus is a very delicate character. He doesn't like either." It is even better that Troy is not here right now or he might roast the hated hellbird Horus on a spit who screeches at the sound of his name in an ear splitting manner. As Dietrich and Gottschlich cautiously move past the falcon's perch, they look for any evidence of the trap set here. "First look through the travelling chest, then check the crates!", the German orders the younger man who nods and complies immediately. "Captain", Gotty addresses him a minute later, as he rummages through the travelling chest containing clothes mainly, but also a wooden case with a small lock integrated. While observing Gottschlich rummaging through the clothes, something strikes Dietrich as odd. "Where is the bottom of the chest on the inside, Corporal?", the German inquires. Gotty stares at him briefly in complete astonishment, before reaching to the bottom on the inside.

As he compares the position of his hand to the height on the outside, Dietrich scowls. "That would make the bottom floor ten centimeters high." Gotty stares at him in confusion, while Hans Dietrich struggles with the calculation from the metric system. "Somewhat more than four fingers, I suppose something around four inches... In any case that would make the whole chest far too heavy. Nobody would build or carry that. Knock on the floor in different locations!" The young man obeys and soon they can hear a hollow tone. "As I suspected. There is a compartment hidden underneath the floor of the chest", Dietrich concludes and Gotty merely stares at him with admiration. "How did you even come to suspect that, Captain?", he asks the young officer with a whisper, not daring to disturb the Professor or, even worse, Horus. "I was wondering, why someone on the run from the law, would travel with something as impractical as a chest instead of a suitcase or satchels. I suspected that something had to be hidden here, other than the Sergeant's trap which we haven't found yet. Keep looking Corporal, also for any indication of a loose board in the floor of the chest, but watch out that you don't trigger the trap yourself! I will take a look at this case in the meantime."

When he studies the small lock, the Captain starts to regret to have handed over all the inflitrators' lockpicking sets instead of keeping one for usage in situations like this one. He has kept the wrench and the rake Lakatos has given to him in his jacket pocket since his training as a safecracker and takes both tools out now, before studying the case and its lock more closely. Opening it by force would be an option, but Dietrich would rather refrain from it for two reason. First, he wants to draw neither the attention of the Professor onto himself nor cause the annoyance of the falcon. Second, he would not put it beyond the sneaky conman to have prepared for the case of somebody opening this by force through a trap or self-destructive mechanism. Thus, he will have to bite his teeth together and put his right arm to use again ignoring the pain. As long as he can rest the elbow on the table to remove the strain from the shoulder, he has little problems with the mobility of the limb for such operations which do not actually require physical strength.

Carefully, he inserts the rake to provide a constant pressure on the mechanism holding it with his left hand, before inserting the wrench to press the pins which is a subtle challenge for the dexterity of his right hand. When the lock finally clicks almost a minute later, sweat is drenching the German's forehead. Gotty still gapes at his Captain open-mouthed and looks as impressed as confused that the man he considers the honorable role model of an officer is proficient with such a dishonorable skill. Carefully Hans Dietrich opens the lid while standing to the side, should something spray to the front of the box as a trap. His caution has been unnecessary, as the inside of the case reveals dozens of documents, real and fakes ones, money of different currencies including German Reichsmark, as well as a small glass phial with what Dietrich suspects is acid which would have dissolved the content of the case should somebody have opened it by force. Großer Gott, the man is even more paranoid than the professional spies from the SS and the German Abwehr which is actually telling a lot about the conman's paranoia in Dietrich's opinion. Ashbury cannot have taken lightly to being blackmailed and must have resented it with every fiber of his being, even planning to manipulate the man blackmailing him into killing himself as part of a faked ritual. Although he has come to know the ruthlessness of the Nazis and their armed forces first hand, this is a whole new level of cold blooded deviousness which leaves an uncomfortable feeling in its wake.

"Captain Dietrich", Gottschlich addresses the young officer quietly, startling him out of his reverie. "Have you found something?", the Captain inquires, eyeing the Corporal and the chest with curiosity. "I think so. I can't open it though", the young man admits with a sheepish expression. "Let me have a look!", Dietrich orders him in a calm tone that is not unfriendly. "Ah, I can see what you mean - the last two floor boards seem loose", the German studies the location briefly, pushing and pulling onehanded with his left, trying to slide the boards to either side, before attempting to tilt them which works immediately to his surprise. Gottschlich looks even more embarrassed now to not even have thought of that. "It's not your fault, Corporal. You have never been confronted with something like this before", the Captain reassures him with a friendly tone. "Hand me a torch please!" With the light the German can take a look into the hidden compartment and check for traps before blindly putting his hand into it. As the chest has to be moved, having an acid or explosive trap would be too dangerous, thus the Captain suspects some force trigger, if there is a trap remaining. The light reveals indeed a contraption, however, one which is not active and has been emptied recently. "This is what we're looking for. The trap which knocked out Sergeant Troy", he mutters to Gottschlich who eyes him with obvious concern. "Take this contraption out of the compartment carefully, Corporal, without tearing anything. We still don't know what was inside", Dietrich orders and leans backward to allow Gottschlich access, while providing him with light from the electric torch.

Riku Gottschlich complies with his Captain's order and carefully maneuvers the contraption of tubes, metal cylinders, springs and other parts he cannot even name or recognise out of the opening at the bottom of the chest. "Carefully check, if something else is inside, Corporal. Don't push, if you feel any resistance! I don't want another victim of a trap", the German officer orders him with stern seriousness. "Of course, Sir", the young soldier mutters as he puts his slightly shaking hand into the narrow space below the floor of the chest. "There is something round, made of metal I think", he tells the officer as soon as his fingers touch the object. "Can you reach it and pull it out?", Dietrich inquires. "I'll try, Captain." Gottschlich struggles at bit to pull the metal cylinder closer toward him, until he can reach it to pull it out. "I think there is another one down there and a piece of cloth", he reports, while handing the cylinder to Dietrich who starts studying it immediately. "Try to reach them and get them out... Ah, this is interesting", the German orders, then mutters the rest of the statement more silently, while reading the word and formula on the diligently labeled container: 'Chloroformium CHCl_3' The young Japanese descended American struggles a bit, but finally manages to get the piece of cloth which he hands to the officer.

While Gottschlich continues to carefully maneuver the container out of the hole millimeter by millimeter, the young officer sniffs at the piece of cloth carefully avoiding to breathe in too deeply. The sweetish smell immediately tips him off that this has been drenched with chloroform if not something else as well. Hans recognizes the characteristic smell of the drug from his uncle's medical practice where this has often come to use in the Germany of the 1920s as an easy to produce anaesthetic. The young Captain suspects that this has been put onto Troy's nose and mouth to knock him out, but the Sergeant must already have been dazed before that or would have shaken off the British civilian easily given his superior strength and constitution. "I got it!", Gotty cries triumphantly and flinches immediately when Horus screeches loudly, almost dropping the metal cylinder that Dietrich quickly takes from his hands.

"Horus, my dear! It's alright. Don't worry, my lad... Didn't I tell you not to disturb him? He's very sensitive!", the British Professor scolds the unwitting young man who mutters some jumbled apologies. "Uncouth Yankees. Barbarians, the whole lot of you!", the Professor scolds the vividly blushing Japanese descended Corporal. The German officer eagerly takes the substance container and carefully rotates it to read the labeling, pointedly ignoring the British Professor's rant. In the same meticulous handwriting as the other label the description has been written as 'Hexobarbital C12H16N2O3'. Carefully he puts both cylinders into his jacket pockets and folds the cloth which he keeps in hand, before motioning for the young Corporal to pick up the box and leave with him. "Please forgive us for disturbing you and Horus, Professor", the Captain tells the British Professor smoothly, as he shoos Gottschlich out of the tent before him, constantly keeping a vigilant eye on the malicious falcon. Even with its hood on, the bird is still a menace. Incredible.

The young soldier follows his commanding officer obediently who walks briskly directly back to the sickbay. "Lieutenant Hartigan!", Dietrich calls out for the nurse who comes jogging toward him immediately. "I have what you wanted. The substances Sergeant Troy has most likely been drugged with are Chloroform and Hexobarbital. Here is the cloth that I suppose was pressed on his face to sedate him. I would say it has the sweetish smell of chloroform, wouldn't you?" Lisa takes the proffered piece of cloth from him and sniffs carefully, before nodding. "You're correct, Captain. We had to use chloroform as a substitute for other anaesthetics, when we had none available before an emergency surgery, when my Dad worked as a medic in the 20s and 30s", she confirms his suspicion. The German has meanwhile extracted the two cylinders with the detailed labeling of the substances from his pockets and hands them to the nurse. "Our culprit was a very diligent apothecary who labeled his bottles clearly. How will the combination of the two anaesthetics affect Sergeant Troy?", Dietrich inquires with obvious concern for the American. Lisa smiles, remembering their discussion about appropriate behaviour and his relationship with the stubborn Sergeant earlier today. Improper or not, the young German Captain definitely cares about his men's wellbeing on a personal level, particularly the man's who he is constantly bickering with.

"I would think he'll still feel dizzy and be a bit slow to think or act for a few hours", she assures him. "Indeed?", the tall officer inquires sarcastically. "Maybe I should give him that more often." Lisa grins widely. "Now, you're really starting to think like one of the medical personnel, Captain. But wouldn't that be improper behaviour for an officer and gentleman?" Dietrich stiffens, but smirks, as he replies smoothly with audible irony: "Of course. This is just hypthetical thinking after all. Neither our trusted medics nor the camp's officers would ever treat their enlisted men like that." The nurse smiles. "I see we have some common ground here, Captain." "So, when will you release me, Lisa?", Troy shouts, as he enters again from the hospital's shower facilities with wet black hair still sticking to his head. When he sees the German Captain standing with the nurse, his annoyed scowl turns into a more relieved expression. "Have you found what that damned cultist drugged me with, Captain?"

"Corporal Gottschlich and I have indeed found the substances. In addition to the spray trap, he has pressed some cloth onto your face to take you out. Is this correct, Sergeant?", Dietrich inquires in a calm, but matter-of-fact manner that appeals to Troy's reasonable side, as he furrows his brows, trying the remember what has happened, before he nods. "Yeah. I felt something soft and wet pressed onto my face. It smelled sweet, not foul though." The German officer smiles wryly. "Indeed. Chloroform smells rather sweetish, as opposed to hydrogen sulfide that makes foul eggs smell the way they do." Troy stares at him incredulously. "Why do you know stuff like that?" Now, the Captain smiles in an actually bemused manner. "I went to a high school focused on Science education and my uncle was a physician." "Tell me what you want, Dietrich, you are a Jerry smartass. But I'm actually grateful for that right now", Troy tells him, patting the younger man on the left shoulder.

"So can I go now, Lisa?", the Sergeant inquires of the young woman. The nurse and the Captain exchange a long-suffering glance, before Lisa replies: "You can leave under Captain Dietrich's supervision. But you're off duty for the rest of the day. And don't even consider driving a car or anything else." "He won't, Lieutenant", the German officer intercedes. "If the last days have taught me one thing, it's that any Troy steering a vehicle is an even more serious menace than one bearing a gun." "I can actually drive", Sam Troy protests. "But you surely won't do it, when I'm in the vicinity and in any state to prohibit it, Troy. I still have nightmares from your last drive." "Those were just two minutes and you were barely conscious", the American Sergeant argues. "Exactly. Extrapolating from this, I don't even want to imagine what will happen in a longer drive, when I'm actually aware of what is happening", the German Captain argues smoothly. "Some friend you are!", Troy grumbles. "I wouldn't let Jakob go to a shooting contest either", Dietrich points out. "That's not the same. He can't shoot", the American Sergeant snaps in annoyance. "And you can't drive, at least not in a way that feels safe for your passengers. Didn't you destroy your own paddock?", the German argues. "I won't tell you anything ever again, if you use it against me like that." "You should have thought of that earlier, Troy", comes the dry reply.

"You know what?", Lisa Hartigan interrupts them with an expression torn between annoyance and amusement. "You two can continue bickering like an old married couple outside of our field hospital. In that way you don't disturb our actual patients." Both men briefly look stunned, before glaring at her with mirrored expressions of annoyance. "He's your responsibility now, Captain." "Wonderful", the German mutters sarcastically. "What crime did I commit to deserve that?" "What was 'shut up' again in German?", Troy inquires, as he follows the younger officer outside, once the Captain has reclaimed his drug containers as evidence from the nurse who simply points her finger at the exit, glaring at the two squabblers. "If you want to start cursing me in my own native tongue, you have to pay better attention and not just rely on Moffit as your translator", Dietrich counters dryly. "Jerry smartass. Wait, I remember this one... Kloogsheisser." "You will have to work a little bit more on the pronunciation, before any German considers this an insult rather than a hilarious joke, Troy. The word is spoken 'Klugscheißer'", the young Captain comments, grinning with amusement himself. 'Well. That backfired', Sam reflects grudgingly, glaring at the German, but refraining from trying to verbally spar with the smart fox, as long as his brain still feels sluggish and affected from the drugs.

"Wait for us!", Jack calls after them with Tully following in his wake. The Private has his head wrapped in a bandage and thus bears some resemblance to his German Captain, only that the blond fluffy haired American with his blue eyes going along with the package would fit the Nazi narrative of the archetypal 'Arier' far better. "How are you feeling, Pettigrew?", the tall officer asks with clear concern audible in his tone. "Fine, Cap. Bit of a headache that's all. Wasn't as bad as your bullet to the head. And the helmet helped", Tully replies, rubbing a slightly aching spot on his forehead. "That's good to hear. I told Sergeant Troy that you made the smartest choice regarding your head gear", the German replies with visible relief. "Wouldn't have helped against the vile trap either", Sam Troy growls testily. "Damned Brits." Moffit bristles. "Now, old man. You can't just condemn all Brits based on one fould egg." "That was way more than one foul egg", the American Sergeant counters. "Troy, you shouldn't forget that the British army is fighting as your ally", Dietrich reminds him dryly. "They're still a bunch of snobs and smartasses", Troy grumbles. "Thanks for trying to help, Captain", Moffit whispers to the German, as both realize that Troy is in no state or mood for any reasonable discussion.

When they enter Boggs' office, followed by Gottschlich and Pettigrew at an appropriate distance to not be drawn into their discussions, Ari gets up to run to his brother, holding up a piece of paper and shouting: "Look! It's Fritz!" With a fearful expression the Jewish boy stops in his tracks at the sight of Sam Troy following right behind his caregiver. Taking a step closer to the child, Dietrich crouches to look him in the eyes. "Ari, Sam Troy didn't want to scare you and he will not harm you", the German Captain argues, as the boy buries his face in his shoulder, shivering slightly with fear and panic. "But he shouted and he had a gun", Ari whimpers and the American Sergeant actually feels guilty for his previous actions, now that he can see the consequences. "Just like Wally and Jane, Helen's kids. They were afraid of me as well", he mutters almost to himself, only for the young officer to hear, after stepping closer to the pair without daring to touch either. "He wanted to help you, thinking some bad man would harm you and Mark Hitchcock", Hans tries to explain to Ari, realizing that deescalating this situation will be important for the future relationship between Troy and the boy. Ari looks from his brother to the American with an expression speaking of his inner turmoil, being torn between wanting to trust the man he considers his main caregiver and fearing the loud and dangerous other man.

"Are you still angry?", the child finally asks the dark haired Sergeant with a scared tone. Troy smiles sadly. "No, I'm not. And I'm really sorry I scared you Ari. I would never hurt you. Believe me!", the American sounds almost pleading, a tone Dietrich would never have expected to hear from him. Ari looks back at Hans who bears a calm and thoughtful expression, but nods at the words, smiling at the boy in a reassuring manner. "I believe you", the Jewish boy finally gets out. "But don't be so loud... please!" After his last desperate plea the boy hides his face again in his caregiver's shoulder, feeling reassured by his presence and his heartbeat. Sam Troy meets eyes with the younger Captain and whispers a quiet "Thank you" into his ear. "It's relevant that you two get along", Dietrich argues calmly in a similar quiet tone. "It's more than my own sister did to help me with her kids. Though I might not have deserved a second chance given the drunken fool that I was back then", Troy mutters darkly, as he squeezes the younger man's shoulder in a gesture of gratitude. "Thanks, Captain."

After observing the strange emotional exchange, Captain James Boggs has stepped up to them and is looking down onto his crouched German colleague who seems caught between Sergeant Troy keeping a grip on his good shoulder and the boy's tight embrace around his neck and the child's head pressed against his chest. "Captain Dietrich", the older officer finally addresses the young Captain, when he sees the boy look more relaxed. Ari looks up at him with worry, while Dietrich gently frees himself of his embrace and gets back to his feet. Troy also releases the German officer, when he notices the younger man scowl in his direction. They are all back on duty and shutting down their private emotional side. Standing at attention, the German provides a detailed recount of the confrontation with the conman, how Tully has been injured and another Jeep been destroyed to catch the criminal. Boggs looks like he is actually shocked at what is happening among these harmless civilians he has agreed to protect with his unit.

His younger German colleague meanwhile bids Gottschlich forward. "Corporal Gottschlich. Please hand over the case we retrieved as evidence", the younger Captain orders smoothly. "This contains the conman's fake documents, money in various currencies and his own equipment for forging documents. Watch out, as it also contains a phial of acid that would have destroyed all the evidence, if the case would have been opened by force!", Dietrich explains matter-of-factually. "How did you open this then?", Boggs wonders. The younger officer actually glares at the American Captain, as he snaps with irritation: "Do you really have to ask?" Confused at first, Troy's and Moffit's wide grins tip Boggs off as to why the proud German Captain is so indignant to provide a direct answer to that question. The notion that the proud and dignified young officer is a skilled lock picker still feels strange for the American camp commander.

Pointedly ingnoring the two Sergeants and refusing to answer Boggs' moronic question, Dietrich continues with his diligent report, as he keeps his head held high in a proud manner: "In addition to the case, we found the trapping mechansim which has taken Sergeant Troy out, spraying him with Hexobarbital, an intense anaesthetic, that has left him dizzy and disoriented until the man has downed him completely with Chloroform." The German Captain holds out the cloth, then takes both metal cylinders out of his jacket pocket and hands them over to the American officer who looks more and more incredulous. "Trapping mechanisms? Anaesthetics?", Boggs repeats in disbelief that this is really happening in his camp and not even the work of German infiltrators. "Indeed", his younger colleague drawls with a smirk. Countless confrontations with the Rat Patrol and their schemes have immunised him well against refusing to believe that an untterly improbable or implausible action is an actual valied option. "It was hidden underneath the false bottom of the man's travelling chest." "How did you even come up with the idea of searching for something like this?", Boggs inquires incredulously. Dietrich shrugs slightly. "I read a lot of Sherlock Holmes, when I was younger." Even Jack Moffit cannot contain his laughter at the German's dry comment and Boggs' incredulous expression, while Hitch and Troy are not even trying to hide their mirth, as the literature Major quotes with actual joy: "'Excellent!' I cried. 'Elementary,' said he." By now, even the German Captain is familiar with this quote and they all grin or laugh heartily at the inside joke. Along with them laughs Ari who enjoys the relief of the tension that comes with the joint laughter, although he does not understand the joke in the slightest. Only Riku Gottschlich looks as incredulous as the older Captain.

"Gentlemen, althought I appreciate you taking this situation not too seriously, I find your reaction not quite appropriate", James Boggs admonishes with a scowl. Dietrich reins in his wide grin quickly and bears a more serious scowl, as he looks at their older commanding officer, raising in his eyebrows quietly in a questioning manner. "Of course, Captain Boggs", the German speaks calmly, before adding more quietly for his colleague to hear: "They needed that relief though." Boggs briefly considers the younger man's haggard face with the bandage wrapped around his forehead and his hair cropped short in a slightly uneven manner, but reads only determination and honest concern for his men in the brown eyes that observe Troy and Moffit. The Rats have truly chosen their unit commander excellently.