It was Dietrich, staring down with that same expression of expectation and contempt. Lockhart pushed himself up off the floor and slumped back against the wall. Even that slight movement made him breathless.

“So,” Dietrich continued, “are you going to help me? Or are you going to die instead?”

Lockhart smiled faintly at Dietrich’s ludicrous succinctness.

“Yes, I will help you.”

Equal doses of relief and guilt flooded Lockhart’s veins. Dietrich looked delighted, like a small boy.

“Good! And in return, I shall keep my side of the promise. You can have your finger seen to.”

“I’d like to make a deal with you, Herr Oberst.”

Dietrich started back.

“A deal, Captain? What sort of deal?”

Lockhart inhaled deeply.

“I have a wife.”

“Yes…”

“A wife who I love very much.”

“Carry on.”

“And I have a child, who I also love very much. I’d like to see them both again.”

“I don’t see how I can help.”

“You can, Herr Oberst.”

“I am confused—what do you want me to do? Fly over to England and bring them back here for a little holiday?”

“My wife is in Holland.”

“Holland?”

“Yes, in Vught, one of your many concentration camps, Herr Oberst. She was in Holland when you captured it, and she never made it back to Britain.”

“And how do you know she’s been imprisoned?”

“There are…channels.”

“And why?”

“She’d gone there to help her family. But when you invaded, she started working on an underground newspaper. I understand she wrote quite a few articles scoffing at your Nazi theories about being a ‘master race.’”

Dietrich stood silent for a few moments.

“And so now she’s a captive, in Vught you say? I’ve never heard of it. What do you want me to do?”

“I’d like you to free her.”

Dietrich’s eyes widened at the preposterous request.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“I’m sure you could. I would do anything to help you if you freed her, or at least made her safe. Even a word that she was still alive would be enough.”

“You’d do anything?”

“Yes.”

“You’d turn traitor—become an informer—in return for your wife’s life? I don’t believe you.”

“She’s more important to me than anything else.”

Dietrich stood silent for at least a minute. Lockhart looked intently at the floor.

“You mean it? You’d really become an informer?” Dietrich asked eventually.

“I really do.”

“I’ll need to cable Berlin to confirm your story. You realize that this will take a few days?”

“I can imagine.”

“In the meantime, you can stay in the sanatorium. If your story is a lie, I will shoot you myself.”

Lockhart nodded. Inwardly, he felt uplifted by the thought of a clean bed and a wash. His finger would be cared for and he would be on the mend. But at what price? He wouldn’t tell Dietrich about SOE or his training. Instead, he would tell him that he was only sent here because he knew the island. As far as Dietrich was concerned, he would just be a regular soldier working undercover. That would seem plausible—Dietrich would believe it when he was told about the work at Knossos.