Chapter 4

As Helga, von Strohm, and Lt. Gruber waited impatiently for the two Luftwaffe officers to reappear, Herr Flick and Smallhausen commiserated in their lair.

"Shouldn't you wait for Helga to report back, Herr Flick?" Smallhausen limped over to the desk, where Flick was rifling through a manual.

"No. It is Gestapo policy to be proactive," Flick replied in a clipped tone. He stopped at a page. "Here. We can keep a closer eye on these two officers if they do not have transportation."

"And how will you do that?" asked Smallhausen.

"We will steal their car. There are detailed instructions in the Gestapo manual. How to jumpstart a Kübelwagen in four easy steps."

"Brilliant," Smallhausen said, clapping his hands together, not for the first time, reminding Flick of Dr. Frankenstein's assistant, Igor.

"Yes, it is. We will get up at 0300, and steal it."

"We?" asked Smallhausen with a sigh.

"Yes." Flick reached over and hit his assistant over the head. "We."

Rubbing his head...Smallhausen was developing a large permanent bump on the top of his pate, he acknowledged his boss. "Yes, Herr Flick."

HhHhH

An ebullient René left the back room and reappeared behind the bar. Seeing this, Gruber sashayed over and leaned on top.

"Hello, René."

"Captain."

"You look quite happy, René. Pleased to see me?"

"Not quite, Captain." Seeing the look on the tank commander's face, René quickly added. "Don't take it personally." He quickly removed a glass down from the shelf and poured some liquid into it. Handing it to the captain, he said. "Here. On the house."

"I never do. Take it personally, I mean." Gruber took a sip of the wine, then leaned into the counter. "I have something to tell you. A warning."

"Oh?" René began to have an uneasy feeling in his stomach. "Yes?"

'It's about those two Luftwaffe officers. We believe they are not who they seem."

"Go on." René began to sweat.

"We think they are here to steal the painting."

René straightened. "The what?"

"They are from the Luftwaffe. Goering is a big art collector. They are here to steal the Fallen Madonna with the..." Gruber made a motion in front of his chest. "The original now being held by Herr Flick is in danger, and the copies you have hidden in sausages may be in danger as well."

René relaxed. "Thank you for the warning, Captain."

The colonel says, '''We expect the painting to stay put...or else.'"

"The copies will stay put." René removed Gruber's empty glass and did not refill it. "It's not my problem what happens to the original."

"Well, technically, it is. Colonel von Strohm wants that painting back." Gruber said not unkindly. "Remember, he knows about the downed airmen you helped. There's more. Herr Flick believes the same. He will be watching."

René began to sweat again. "Thanks for the warning."

"Always my pleasure, René." Gruber smiled and walked back to his table.

"It is getting late," said von Strohm. "We should be getting back, Gruber. You will come by tomorrow morning and speak with those two Luftwaffe officers then. René?" he waved the proprietor over to the table.

Rene, who was wiping down the bar, put down his cloth and walked over. He let out a sigh. "Yes, Colonel."

I expect a call from you if and when you see the two Luftwaffe officers leave. And when they do, they best not have the painting-originals or copies-with them."

"Yes, Colonel. The captain already made that clear."

"Good." Von Strohm grinned. He stood up.

"Gruber, pay the tab. Come Helga."

Gruber gave René a sheepish smile, threw some bills on the table and hurried after his two colleagues.

"I'd best warn those two agents," René said to himself. Seeing Mimi, he told her to watch the bar. He had no idea where LeClerc had disappeared. The forger was probably upstairs spending time with Edith's mother.

Only Edith was in the backroom when he opened the door. "Where are Yvette and the two agents?"

"Yvette took them downstairs. They wanted to familiarize themselves with every room and exit. The leader is a very careful and intelligent man," she added, smiling.

René nodded. "Well, I need to let them know that all the Germans seem to think they are working for Goering, and are here to steal the painting."

Edith laughed. "They are probably the only ones in Nouvion not interested in that painting," she said. For once, René agreed with her.

"And this is our storeroom." Yvette opened the door, switched on a light, and stepped aside as Hogan and LeBeau entered. The two explored the area, taking note of hiding spaces, windows and exits. Hogan pointed to the food hanging from the ceiling and LeBeau nodded and smiled.

"Looks good. Let's go," Hogan said.

LeBeau addressed Yvette. "Thank you, miss."

"You're welcome. Anytime you need me to show you into a back room, just let me know." Yvette frowned. That did not come out the way I meant, she realized. Never mind. She shrugged.

"Of course." LeBeau admired the physique of the friendly waitress, and followed Hogan up the stairs. René and Edith met them at the top.

"Ah, Gentlemen. A brief warning. Kind of silly really," Rene said.

As LeBeau translated, the hair on Hogan's arm stood up.

"Warning? Nothing is silly in this war. What's up?' he asked.

René began to explain as he escorted the two towards their room.

"The Germans seem to think you are here to steal artwork for Goering."

LeBeau laughed. "The Germans, both the Kommandant and his staff, and the local Gestapo think we are here to steal artwork for Goering."

Hogan laughed as well. "Not guilty." He thought for a moment. "Ask them about this Gestapo office. How big is it, and do we need to worry about it?"

"There are only two agents here, sir. Herr Flick and his henchman, Smallhausen," René answered LeBeau.

"I shouldn't bother about them too much," Edith added reassuringly.

"We'll be out of here very early." Hogan opened the door. "I'm not too worried. But, we will be extra careful," he told LeBeau. "We'll keep watch all night. The two of us will take turns."

"Very well, monsieur." René led everyone up the stairs. "You know where to find me if there is a problem."

"I'll take the first shift," Hogan told LeBeau after the French civilians left for their rooms. He checked his gun, and made his way down to the main level. This was not an unusual situation, and he was well equipped to handle a two-hour watch.

Meanwhile, LeBeau set the alarm, and then like all soldiers in wartime, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The warning about the artwork forgotten, after all, it was the last thing on their mind, Hogan spent an uneventful two hours in the cafe. Glancing at his watch, he got up, stretched and walked over to the window. After briefly looking outside, and seeing nothing amiss, he turned. "Right on time," he stated as LeBeau stepped off the stairway.

"Anything to report, Colonel?"

"Quiet as a mouse. You?"

"Rien." LeBeau headed over to the table and was about to sit down, when he paused. "Actually, there is something. I thought I saw something odd in the storeroom down below. Do you mind if I take a quick check? It was probably nothing. Just a shadow, perhaps."

Hogan frowned. "Dangerous?"

LeBeau shook his head. "Likely not. Something odd with the food."

"Go ahead." Hogan handed LeBeau a lantern, and then joined him at the entrance leading downstairs. He watched as his corporal walked down, and then the colonel stepped aside, as he did not want to turn his back away from the front of the restaurant.

LeBeau swung his lantern around, the light showing to his relief that he was the only human in the vicinity. He then stood at the bottom of the stairs and tapped the wall. Hearing this, Hogan turned and looked down.

"All clear. No one here."

"Good, but make it snappy," Hogan replied.

LeBeau walked back to where his suspicions were first aroused; the sausage links hanging from the ceiling. This time he had more time to investigate. Grabbing a chair, he hopped up and held his lantern close to the casings. His chef's eye spied the imperfections right away. What is inside of you? He asked himself, as he removed the offending pieces of pork from their hooks. Hopping down from the chair, he placed the meat on the table, and quickly gave them a once over. Then, using a knife he had in his pocket, he expertly cut into the meat. To his surprise he found not ammunition, diamonds or explosives, but a roll of paper. His eyes opened wide as he discovered what was hiding inside the first sausage.

"How's it coming?" Hogan, now a bit impatient, had gone down a few steps. He couldn't see where his man had gone, but he heard the scraping of a chair on the floor. Quickly, LeBeau appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"It was my imagination," the Frenchman stated as he began climbing the stairs. "Everything is okay."

"Good. Hogan stifled a yawn. "See you in two hours."

HhHhH

As the population of Nouvion slept, Smallhausen and Herr Flick made their way to the town square. Pressing his back against a building, Flick peeked around the corner. Tonight, the lax security in the area was to his advantage. He looked at his watch, and then timed the two German soldiers patrolling the area.

"How long do we have?" Smallhausen asked nervously. He was quite used to Flick's failures, but like always, the aide gamely went along with his superior's crazy and convoluted schemes. After all, what choice did he have?

"Exactly 3 minutes and 20 seconds," answered Flick crisply. "We will wait for their next pass and then go." He held up his hand; then when the time came, the two Gestapo agents limped across to the Kübelwagen.

"No keys," Smallhausen announced.

"That only happens in the movies," Flick stated as he removed a manual from his pocket. "Page five. No keys? No problem! Well, what are you waiting for, Smallhausen?" Flick tapped his cane on the ground. Crawl in there and follow my instructions."

To Smallhausen's utter shock, the instructions worked. The wagon started, and before the patrol could notice, the Gestapo agents drove off in the Luftwaffe officers' transportation.

For his part, LeBeau was on watch for anything or anyone suspicious attempting to enter the cafe from either the front or the back. He would never have noticed a vehicle leaving the town square, unless it was parked right outside the cafe. Unfortunately, due to the alternate side of the square parking enforced by the British spy disguised as a French Gendarme, their transportation was not in sight; one of the few times Hogan and company had, for lack of a better word, goofed.