Jackpot
A Hogan's Heroes story
By Deana Lisi

Here's my answer to the challenge given by CaptainSmirk!

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Newkirk stumbled through the dark, with one arm wrapped around his ribs and the other hand bracing himself against trees as he passed them. Though his mission had been successful, he'd become involved in something unexpected…something that wasn't altogether bad, considering what was safely tucked inside his pocket.

He just wondered if Colonel Hogan would be mad or glad, once he found out.

Part of Newkirk wished that the others had gone looking for him—as it really hurt to keep walking—but he knew that despite what had happened, he wasn't returning all that late. They always gave themselves up to an hour extra time when going into town, to allow for a contact being late, or taking longer to accomplish whatever they were there for.

Closing his eyes, Newkirk had to stop and lean against a tree. The pain in his ribs was making it hard to breathe, and the cold air really wasn't helping.

The snap of a twig startled Newkirk into taking a deep breath, increasing the pain and sending his brain reeling with dizziness. He pushed himself away from the tree anyway, and started walking again as fast as possible; the last thing he needed was to get caught…and his pocket's contents stolen.

After what seemed like forever, Newkirk suddenly saw the tree stump, and relief filled his senses. Opening it was torture, and he stood there for a minute with both hands bracing himself on the wood.

"Newkirk?" he suddenly heard.

Blinking, he realized that Carter was peering up at him from inside the tunnel, and he laboriously climbed in and slowly made his way down.

Hands were suddenly touching him, helping him down and off the ladder. He flinched when someone touched his midsection, and the person quickly removed their hand. People were talking to him, but he couldn't figure out who was saying what.

"Newkirk?" He managed to decipher Carter's voice. "Say something!"

Realizing that his eyes were closed, Newkirk opened them and found himself slumped on the bench near the tunnel ladder. Carter was sitting beside him, gripping his arm, to keep him upright.

"Where are you hurt?" Hogan asked. He saw no blood, which was reassuring, but it was obvious from the way that Newkirk breathed that there was a very painful injury hidden somewhere beneath his clothes.

"Ribs," Newkirk gasped out.

Hogan opened Newkirk's jacket and lifted up his shirt, finding bruises already starting to form. He sent Carter a look, waiting for the sergeant to grip Newkirk with both hands before he gently felt around the area.

Newkirk tensed up and held his breath.

Hogan removed his hand and let Newkirk's shirt drop back into place. "I think there's a few cracked ones; none feel completely broken." He watched the pale corporal's shallow, staccato breathing, and said, "Tell us what happened, Newkirk, in ten words or less."

Newkirk tried to take a breath that would give him enough air to speak with. "Hotel lounge...played pool...won money. Mugged...still have money." He closed his eyes with a wince. "Oww..."

"That's eleven words," said Carter.

Hogan took a deep breath, forcing his voice to sound normal. "Played pool?" he asked, giving Newkirk a chance to explain before he got upset.

"Before contact…big guy…made challenge…huge payout…I won." Despite his pain, Newkirk grinned a little at the last part.

"How much money?" Carter asked. "And who mugged you?"

"In pocket…" Newkirk told him. "Big guy…wanted…'is money…back…sent friends."

Carter stuck his hand in Newkirk's jacket pockets and took out a wad of cash that made his eyes bug out of his head.

Hogan's eyebrows shot up, despite himself.

"Gosh, Newkirk!" Carter exclaimed, as he counted. "There's four thousand marks here! You hit the jackpot!"

"How did you win four thousand marks?!" Hogan exclaimed.

Newkirk opened his eyes. Hogan sounded shocked, not mad. He tried to shift his position, and was rewarded with more pain.

Carter gripped his friend's arm tighter. "Ten words, again?"

Newkirk thought for a minute. "Equal match…at first…double or nothin'…I beat 'im."

Hogan shook his head. "And then the contact came?"

Newkirk nodded. "After…I left…three men…attacked…tried to…take money…"

"But they didn't get it," Carter said.

Newkirk shook his head. "Gestapo car…pulled up…scared them…all away…was Hochstetter."

"What was Hochstetter doing there?!" Hogan asked.

Newkirk shook his head.

"Good thing he didn't see you!" Carter said.

Newkirk nodded.

Hogan sighed, wondering if Hochstetter had gotten wind of an Underground meeting, and had thankfully arrived mere minutes too late. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but he knew that Newkirk was already talking more than he should be.

"Hey," Carter suddenly said. "What do you plan to do with the money, Newkirk?"

Newkirk shook his head. "For us…to use…on missions…when we…need it."

When Hogan heard that, he was relieved that he'd given Newkirk a chance to explain before he reacted; what he'd thought to be a selfish action had actually been anything but. He patted the Englishman on the shoulder and got a hand under his arm to help him up. "Good thinking, but in the future, we'd rather have you come back in one piece."

Newkirk's grin turned into a wince as he was pulled up from the bench. "I'll try…to keep…that…in mind…next time…sir."

Hogan and Carter helped Newkirk over to the ladder leading up to the barracks, and Carter quickly climbed it before reaching down to help Newkirk get up it, while Hogan helped from below. Once they finally made it up, Hogan decided to put Newkirk in his quarters, and they managed to get him there without waking any of the other prisoners.

They laid him on the bottom bunk, and watched him anxiously.

"Do you need anything?" Hogan asked.

Newkirk, eyes closed, shook his head.

"What about his clothes?" Carter asked, referring to the fact that Newkirk was wearing civilian attire.

"That's one reason why he's in here," said Hogan. "So Schultz won't see when he wakes us for roll call."

Carter nodded.

Newkirk opened his eyes and saw the nervous look on his friend's face. "I'm…okay…Andrew…don't worry…'bout me. Go…to…bed."

"You don't have to keep talking in sets of ten words, you know," said Hogan, suddenly finding it amusing.

Newkirk smiled slightly.

"He's right though, Carter," said Hogan. "Cracked ribs are painful, but not dangerous. Go to bed, I'll keep an eye on him."

Carter sighed, obviously not wanting to leave. "Okay. Goodnight."

Newkirk closed his eyes as Carter reluctantly left, and he wondered if the pain would prevent him from sleeping.

Hogan grabbed a blanket and covered Newkirk with it. "I didn't know that you're a professional pool player."

Newkirk nodded. "Been playin'…since I was…a lad. I've won…tournaments."

Hogan was impressed. "I'm surprised that guy went double or nothing with you, then."

Newkirk smiled slightly. "He couldn't…tell. I didn't…play my…best…at first."

Hogan finished changing into his pajamas and looked at Newkirk, in shock. "Are you telling me that you held back until the end?"

Newkirk nodded. "Let 'im…think 'e…was winnin'. Then I…called…double."

Hogan shook his head. "Two thousand marks wasn't enough for you, eh?"

"Four thousand…much better…in…our line…of business…sir."

Hogan laughed as he climbed onto his top bunk. "You're amazing, Newkirk. Try to get some sleep…and knock off the ten-word replies, will you?"

Not even the pain could keep Newkirk from chuckling.

THE END