Hausen's father Maximillian had been a pilot with the Luftwaffe. He'd specialized in night fighting, and had flown the first operational sortie of the Heinkel He 219 when it shot down five Lancasters. Like many Germans, Hausen did not speak apologetically of his father's wartime exploits. Military service could not be avoided, and it didn't diminish Hausen's love or respect for Maximillian. Still, as the German spoke about his father's activities, Hood found it difficult not to think of the families of the young crew members of those downed Lancasters.

Perhaps sensing Hood's discomfort, Hausen asked, "Did your father serve?"

Hood said, "My father was a medic. He was stationed at Fort McClellan in Alabama setting broken bones and treating cases of"-- he looked at Elisabeth-- "various diseases."

"I understand," Hausen said.

"So do I," Elisabeth put in.

The woman gave him a half-smile. Hood returned it. He felt as if he was back in Op-Center trying to walk the tightrope between political correctness and sexual discrimination.

"And you never wanted to be a doctor?" Hausen asked.

"No," Hood said. "I wanted to help people and I felt that politics was the best way. Some people of my generation thought revolution was the answer. But I decided to work with the so-called establishment."

"You were wise," Hausen said. "Revolution is rarely the answer."

"What about you?" Hood asked. "Did you always want to be in politics?"

He shook his head. "From the time I was able to walk I wanted to fly," he said. "When I was seven, on our farm near the Rhine in Westphalia, my father taught me to fly the 1913 Fokker Spider monoplane he'd restored. When I was ten and attending boarding school in Bonn, I switched to a Bucker two-seat biplane at a nearby field." Hausen smiled. "But I always saw beauty from the air turn to squalor on the ground. And like you, when I came of age, I decided to help people."

"Your parents must have been proud," Hood said.

Hausen's expression darkened. "Not exactly. It was a very complicated situation. My father had quite definite ideas about things, including what his son should do for a living."

"And he wanted you flying," Hood said.

"He wanted me with him, yes."

"Why? It isn't as though you turned your back on a family business."

"No," Hausen said, "it was worse. I turned my back on my father's wishes."

"I see. And are they still furious?"

"My father passed away two years ago," Hausen said. "We were able to talk shortly before his death, though much too much was left unsaid. My mother and I speak regularly, though she hasn't been the same since his death."