War stirs in men's hearts the mud of their worst instincts. It puts a premium on violence, nourishes hatred, and gives free rein to cupidity. It crushes the weak, exalts the unworthy, and bolsters tyranny. Time and time again it has destroyed all ordered living, devastated hope, and put the prophets to death.

Charles de Gaulle

#HH x FI#

Hochstetter frantically packed his meager belongings. He checked his Mauser P08, more commonly referred to as Luger semi-automatic pistol. He inserted the parabellum cartridge, doubting that Roarke would simply let him board the plane. The Great Dauphin lives! Not for long, thought the Gestapo officer. He missed his opportunity years ago in Paris. He relented when news spread of the Great Dauphin's demise. Everyone believed it, including a detective as clever as himself.

The Cockroach proved irritating as a prisoner of war. Hochstetter despised his testimony most of all at the trial. Even Hogan maintained a sense of discipline and professionalism, confirming his theory that the man was Papa Bear. With LeBeau, it was personal. Hochstetter smiled as he recalled torturing the man. Very few left the interrogation cell alive but he had his orders and at that time, he lacked time in rank to defy those orders.

Hochstetter demonstrated his investigative skills throughout the years. He knew LeBeau led a double life as Ipsy Dauphin. What eluded him was the reason why. None of Hogan's other men chose to change their identities after the war. He helped dozens of men over the years elude capture.

All he wanted was his chance to stay hidden and live out his days. Coming to Fantasy Island was a mistake. Hochstetter needed some place even more remote. South America remained a hotspot for the Nazi hunters. As much as he wanted to flee, he needed to squash a certain annoying Cockroach named Caporal Louis LeBeau.

Despite his age, Hochstetter readily convinced a native driver to relinquish his jeep. Lugers proved effective negotiation tools. The young man did as told. Hochstetter liked ordering about the inferior. He even made the man load his luggage into the jeep.

"You know your place," smiled Hochstetter. "Tell me, young man, where I might find Louis LeBeau."

The young man nervously replied, "The chef?"

Hochstetter snorted, "Chef? Ah, yes, the chef. Where is he?"

"I don't know," replied the man.

Hochstetter neared the man but remained out of reach in case the man found courage to attempt disarming him. Hochstetter's only advantage was his pistol. He carefully said, "Where does he live? Tell me! Drei, zwei, ein…"

The man begged, "Alright! Don't shoot! My wife is pregnant and needs me!"

Hochstetter bellowed, "NOW!" He gloated and laughed as the man described the way to LeBeau's house. He climbed into the jeep, careful to keep his pistol trained on the bare-chested man. He wanted to kill the man; lack of additional cartridges and rounds spared the man's life. He needed every bullet to go LeBeau hunting.

#HH x FI#

LeBeau tossed and turned in the hospital bed. He kept replaying the events in his head. Everything was going better than expected inside the tank until he saw Hochstetter. It was as if he looked through a long tunnel and saw the Gestapo officer waiting for him. Then he recalled the tribunals. LeBeau testified personally against Hochstetter, as did Hogan and the rest of the core team.

Oh how he missed his beloved Marya! LeBeau knew she played a risky part as a spy. He loved her so much. It was supposed to be a straightforward mission. She arrived at camp with Wehrmacht General Hans Schreiber. All she had to do was distract the man long enough for Newkirk to exchange battle plans in the briefcase. Hochstetter arrived just as Marya and Schreiber exited the Kommandantur. Without regard for rank or due process, he shot the both of them.

Gestapo superiors initially sought disciplinary actions against Hochstetter for such an act of cold-blooded murder directed at a member of the German High Command. They changed their minds after the discovery of the false battle strategies. Hochstetter received a commendation for eliminating dangerous and subversive saboteurs to the Great War effort.

No one grieved more than LeBeau but Hogan's men did mourn. For the sake of the operation, LeBeau postponed his vengeance. He felt satisfaction when Hochstetter stood crestfallen as the judges pronounced the death sentence. Yet somehow, the fiend escaped hours before the hangman's noose could deliver the final justice Marya deserved.

LeBeau lost so much because of the war. He decided he owed it to his beloved Marya to take care of matters with the greatest finality. This time, Hochstetter would not escape. LeBeau quietly got out of bed and examined the room. He knew two guards stood outside the closed door. Looking out the window, he saw additional guards easily in their white uniforms accented by the combined light of the last quarter moon and tiki torches.

Good, thought LeBeau. Obviously, Roarke knew, or at the very least suspected, that LeBeau would escape the confines of the hospital to exact revenge. The Great Dauphin silently laughed at the notion that a handful of police officers might apprehend him. At least Roarke did not insult his intelligence by handcuffing him to the hospital bed.

It proved too easy to escape by way of the window, scurry about the small campus, and temporarily borrow a jeep. LeBeau would pay the fine later. He had a mission. He had a good head start. Eventually, the authorities would attempt to catch up to him at his house. He needed his Pistolet automatique modèle 1935A, an old French semi-automatic pistol that Tiger gave to him as a small token of appreciation.

Quick in and out, back to the jeep, and LeBeau felt alive. He vowed to avenge Marya's death. He turned on the two-way police radio. For several moments, he listened to the usual chatter. Officers checked in with the station. Good, no news yet about his escape, he thought. One officer broadcast an alert. Wolfgang Hochstetter stole a courtesy jeep at gunpoint and was last seen heading towards Merganser Lane.

Delicious, thought LeBeau. The detective somehow discovered where he lived. He parked one block away on a side street and turned off the headlights but kept the engine running. It would be dawn soon. He still had the advantage of the changing shadows as concealment. Then he saw the jeep flying down the road. LeBeau put his jeep in gear and floored the gas pedal.

Hochstetter did not need the police interference and decided a hasty retreat was necessary. He would have to try again. He hated automatic transmissions. They may have been easier for the weak minded to drive but he needed expert gear shifting capabilities. He realized he was losing his advantage as the police vehicle started catching up to him.

A single shot pealed and Hochstetter ducked his head as low as possible while still being able to see out the front. He felt very confused amid strange roads and shadows. Dawn approached but so did a police officer intent on killing him outright. If he was going to eliminate LeBeau finally, he had to expend a bullet. He found a relatively straight stretch of road by miracle. He had no time to take a proper sight. He quickly glanced over his shoulder as he fired his pistol. Then he ducked when another bullet whizzed past his ear.

Was that LeBeau? Hochstetter tried squinting in the side view mirror. His keen detective mind deduced that it must be LeBeau. Even though it was a police vehicle, it did not sound a siren or use the modern rotating light system. Another shot pealed and Hochstetter began skidding out of control. He realized his adversary expertly eliminated the driver's side rear tire.

Hochstetter managed to get the jeep to the side of the road. Horror pumped his adrenaline when he realized LeBeau was intent on running him down with the police vehicle. He ran into the jungle, barely making it as the jeep crashed in between two trees.

LeBeau shouted, "I'm coming for you old man!" He had Hochstetter on the run. He was not a young man anymore but the dirty kraut was in his seventies. As he continued the chase he shouted, "You filthy rotten bosche! You'll pay!"

For several moments, the two played cat and mouse, taking the odd potshot in an effort to eliminate the other. LeBeau counted bullets. He smiled when Hochstetter let loose several rounds. Good, he was terrified, thought LeBeau.

LeBeau quietly said, "Bientôt tu seras vengé, ma chérie." Soon you will be avenged, my darling

#HH x FI#

Hochstetter's bungalow was vacant of any guests or luggage. Even the complimentary toiletries disappeared. Roarke hoped that Hochstetter was simply on the run. He knew that his unwanted guest stole a courtesy jeep at gunpoint and demanded directions to LeBeau's home. He held no ill regard for the young husband with pregnant wife.

LeBeau's home proved undisturbed to the common eye. Roarke realized that LeBeau's semi-automatic pistol was missing from its display. Roarke rarely lost control of situations because he planned fantasies to the minutest details. Unfolding events were not of his design, however, and he had little time to resolve the situation. Understanding the man's ingenious nature, Roarke set out in search of the wanted fugitive. Hochstetter's fate was sealed; LeBeau needed salvation or else he would suffer damnation. Find Hochstetter and he would find LeBeau.

Roarke expertly maneuvered the jeep while Tattoo sat anxiously in the passenger seat. He knew that his friend worried. Discovering two wrecked jeeps on the outskirts of town confirmed his worst fears. Someone shot out the rear tire on one jeep where Hochstetter's luggage lay abandoned. The second jeep remained wedged in between two trees. The two men must have entered the jungle. Another jeep arrived with two officers.

"I want them alive," said Roarke. "They are both armed."

Tattoo cried, "Louis won't hurt you! He is a good man!"

Roarke sternly said to the police, "He's not in control of his faculties. Use extreme caution." He turned to Tattoo and said, "Return to the main house."

Tattoo protested, "I will not! Louis is my friend!"

Roarke angrily said, "I don't have time for this." Softening his tone he continued, "Louis is my friend as well but Herr Hochstetter brutally tortured him thirty years ago and now he wants revenge. He has temporarily lost his good judgment. Go, or I will fire you."

Tattoo defiantly stated, "Very well. I quit." He started running towards the jungle but Roarke grabbed him from behind at the jacket collar. He snapped, "Let me go! Louis needs me."

Roarke said, "Come along, Tattoo. There is great danger. You will do exactly as I tell you to do. Is that understood?"

Tattoo gulped, "Yes, Boss." He looked up in terror at Roarke at the sound of sporadic gunshots. Both men understood that Hochstetter and LeBeau were close. Tattoo feared for his friend's safety while Roarke feared for LeBeau's sanity and soul. Tattoo struggled to keep up with Roarke, taking three to four steps for every one of his employer's strides.

"Rest here," snapped Roarke.

Tattoo had no choice. He felt winded as a searing pain coursed from his chest down his left arm. He leaned up against a tree while Roarke continued. He dare not linger. The pain subsided and he began walking through the jungle shouting, "Louis! C'est moi! S'il vous plaît revenez à nous! Nous vous aimons tellement." Louis! It's me! Please come back to us! We all love you so much.

#HH x FI#

Magic required intrinsic timing, planning, and patience; LeBeau mastered all three facets. He counted bullets. He needed just one to rid the world forever of Wolfgang Hochstetter. LeBeau loved many women over the years and managed to part on good terms with just about all of them. Marya Parmanova, however, died far too young in a brutal manner.

Hochstetter is down to two bullets and I have four, thought LeBeau. He scaled a tree to gain a better perspective. The police were in the jungle, easily discernible by their white uniforms. Hochstetter stumbled into a creek bed. LeBeau knew from that distance and angle that he could not hope to hit Hochstetter, but he needed the old man run down to utter exhaustion.

LeBeau fired one shot in Hochstetter's direction and quietly said, "Maintenant, j'ai juste trois balles." Now, I just have three bullets. He heard a distant voice resonate through the jungle. Tattoo sounded distressed. He was about to call out to his friend when a shot pealed from the creek bed. Good, he is down to one, thought LeBeau.

LeBeau climbed down the tree. He heard another shot peal from the creek bed and smiled in fiendish delight: no more bullets. He began his advance and remembered caution. What if Hochstetter had another cartridge? He fired a shot towards the creek bed: nothing. Knowing the cunning of the Gestapo, it might be a clever trick to lure him in, or perhaps he really was out of bullets. J'ai deux balles et il n'en a aucune. I have two bullets and he has none.

As he approached the creek, LeBeau heard a desperate gasp. He saw Hochstetter cringing in fear at the sight of a wild boar. It would not do if the great-tusked boar killed Hochstetter! LeBeau fired a shot and the boar scampered away. Hochstetter looked up at LeBeau in desperation.

LeBeau laughed, "We meet again, Herr Kriminalrat."

"Cockroach," gasped Hochstetter. "It really is you. Oh, such a long time!" As he stood, he trained his pistol towards LeBeau. The two stared, fingers poised on triggers.

LeBeau said, "You're bluffing. You're out of bullets."

"Strange," said Hochstetter. "I was about to say the same of you."

"You filthy bosche are all alike," said LeBeau. "You all prefer lugers."

Hochstetter shrugged, "They are more reliable than that Pistolet automatique."

"You know your weapons," said LeBeau. "I'm impressed."

Hochstetter said, "I certainly took plenty of those toys away from white flaggers and butterfingers."

The slurs hit their mark precisely. LeBeau squeezed the trigger just as a hand grabbed his wrist and wrenched it downwards. He looked in shock at his friend Tattoo who stood boldly. He pleaded, "I must do this!"

Hochstetter laughed, "My turn." Just as he pulled the trigger, Roarke arrived with several police officers and wrenched his wrist upwards. One round shot into the sky.

LeBeau snapped, "Impossible! He was out of bullets. I counted."

Roarke sternly said, "It's over, Herr Hochstetter." He kept squeezing Hochstetter's wrist until the luger fell to the ground. Hochstetter cried in exasperation.

LeBeau turned his pistol towards Hochstetter and coldly said, "You murdered Marya Parmanova. You will die."

Hochstetter stared dumbfounded and asked, "Who?"

LeBeau spoke with ice in his voice, "Je l'aimais plus que tout au monde." I loved her more than anything else in the world.

Hochstetter snapped, "Bah! What do I care? Go on, pull the trigger you filthy little Cockroach. I should have squashed you years ago."

Tattoo begged, "Don't, Louis. Let the authorities take care of this. Please…you're better than this."

LeBeau stood immobilized. He wanted to pull the trigger. He miscounted Hochstetter's bullets. Did he miscount his own bullets? Hochstetter deserved to die and he wanted to be the executioner. It was one thing to kill during the hunt but the police had Hochstetter. LeBeau was not a butcher. He raised his arm straight into the air and fired. One round fired. Hochstetter nearly fainted, knowing that the man he despised could have done it.

Roarke calmly said, "Take him away. The German authorities will be here shortly."

LeBeau watched as the police took Hochstetter in custody. He checked the cartridge in his Pistolet. He laughed at seeing it empty and secured the weapon in his waistband. Then he realized Roarke picked up Hochstetter's luger and removed the cartridge. It too was empty. He nervously laughed, "I really did miscount."

Tattoo asked, "Louis, who is Marya Parmanova?"

LeBeau sighed, "I loved her. She was a brilliant spy – even cleverer than Colonel Hogan."

Roarke said, "Come. We need to get Tattoo to the hospital."

Tattoo assuredly said, "I'm fine, Boss."

Roarke said, "Boss? I thought you quit."

Tattoo said, "Oh that? Well, about that, Boss…" He felt a stabbing pain in his chest and said, "Maybe I do need to see a doctor."

The three men made their way through the jungle, taking care not to go too fast. Roarke kept his strides small and evenly paced. He felt great pride for LeBeau. He did not know who was Marya but LeBeau obviously cared for her very deeply. War interfered with men's lives. LeBeau gave up much for his beloved country.