A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes, and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love.

This was the worst part of the whole job. Waiting, and worrying, and wondering what was going to happen next.

Hans scanned the compound through the wire barrier of the dog enclosure, reassuring himself that everything was as it should be. The guards in the watchtowers had just changed, and the new arrivals were moving the searchlights lazily from right to left, never varying their routine, and never seeming to notice that significant areas of the compound and the fence bordering it escaped the sweep of the lights.

Being canine rather than human, Hans didn't rely on the searchlights for his surveillance; his night vision was excellent, and he could see, for the moment, that all was serene. For the moment.

He had just enough time to process that thought when a faint barking could be heard in the distance. Willi the Weimaraner was on the job, and Hans strained his ears to hear, wishing that he had assigned his sister Sieglinde to the first watch tonight. Her acute hearing never missed a detail of the Twilight Barking, but since the usual time for the nightly broadcast was long past, Hans had sent her and the others to the doghouses to sleep.

Fortunately, though, the night was still, and Hans was able to hear the message clearly. Even so, he had a difficult time believing his own ears. He was unable to bark in response to the message for fear of alerting the guards, but Willi, apparently anticipating Hans's disbelief, thoughtfully re-barked the message.

"Achtung! Achtung! Make contact with cat outside west fence as soon as possible."

Hans stood at the west fence and solemnly regarded the two dogs he had wakened to assist him to venture outside the wire. "As soon as I'm through the fence, get to the shadows. You know where the blind spots are."

A worried frown wrinkled Gerda's forehead. "Will you be safe?"

"Ja, ja, I'll be fine," he assured her.

Sieglinde tossed her head. "I should go. Maybe a cat will be more willing to talk to a female."

"Nothing doing," Hans said firmly. "I'm in charge while Wolfgang's away, and this is my responsibility." He added in a low voice, "You know our humans are out on a mission tonight. If this has anything to do with their safety..."

Gerda sighed. "You are right, of course. Good luck." She went to the loosened corner of the inner fence and pulled it back with her teeth.

Sieglinde wriggled through and went to the corresponding corner of the outer fence and did the same. As soon as her brother was outside the wire, she whispered, "Take care of yourself."

Hans grinned. "Always. Keep an eye on things, bitte?"

He turned and loped off into the darkness of the surrounding woods. He didn't have far to go before he encountered the feline in question, but although there was an unmistakable scent of cat, he was unable to see the creature.

"Up here," said a disembodied voice.

Hans looked up into the low branches of a nearby tree, where a large black cat was crouched. "You didn't have to climb a tree on my account."

"That's what Willi told me, but one never knows, does one?" The cat slithered down the tree trunk and landed at Hans's feet, pausing briefly to smooth his ruffled fur.

Hans regarded the cat with impatience and more than a little suspicion. "All right, I'm here...what do you want?"

The cat bristled slightly. "I'm here to help you, or more accurately, to help your humans."

"What do you mean?"

"There is a Major Pruhst of the Gestapo who has been waiting for an opportunity to encroach on Major Hochstetter's jurisdiction, and he has heard of suspicious activities around Luftstalag 13. Ordinarily Major Hochstetter would forestall any actions of Pruhst, but right now he's sick in bed with the flu."

Hans flattened his ears skeptically. "How do you know all this?"

The cat puffed up with pride. "Major Hochstetter is my human."

"That...that Nazi is your human?"

Golden eyes narrowed to slits. "He's no more Nazi than you are! He is a very good human who has been working undercover to help defeat Hitler. But he's very sick right now, and delirious with fever. Our landlady wanted to send him to the Krankenhaus, but he refused to go." The cat paused for a moment, whiskers twitching. "Just as well, I think. He's been rambling on about some strange things in his delirium; I'd hate for the doctors to hear him."

Hans couldn't help but be curious, so despite his initial skepticism he asked, "What sort of things has he been saying?"

The cat sighed. "Things like 'Jeepers creepers' and 'It's the bee's knees, doll' and 'So's your old man'. And then he sat straight up in bed and said 'Twenty-three skidoo'! He almost frightened poor Frau Lindemann to death."

"What do you think those things mean?"

"I don't know, but I am afraid they are secret messages that will blow his cover as an Allied agent if anyone overhears them...especially since he's been babbling in English. Major Pruhst stopped by this evening, and it was fortunate he lingered only long enough to inform Major Hochstetter that he's taking over for the time being." The cat shook his head. "That's why I'm here. Pruhst plans on taking advantage of my human's illness to make a surprise visit to Luftstalag 13...tonight."

Hans frowned. "A surprise visit? Tonight?"

"Ja, but I have slowed him down somewhat by gnawing through the fuel line to his carburetor," said the cat. "Ach...I can still taste the gasoline! But Pruhst is a determined human and he'll find other transport, I'm sure. Listen, I must get back to my human now. You will warn your humans about Pruhst?"

"Of course," Hans said. "But Colonel Hogan and the others have already left for a mission, and I'm not sure when they will be back."

"That's bad. Is there nothing you can do?"

Hans looked back toward the stalag. "One thing I can try," he said. "It's a long shot, but...anyway, you need to look after your human. Be careful on your way back to Hammelburg."

"I'll be all right," the cat assured him. "Even if I happen to encounter any humans, I'm not worried. Nazis are kinder to animals than they are to members of their own species, you know."

Hans sighed. "I know. Until we meet again, then...I'm sorry, what is your name?"

"Manfred," said the cat. "And you are...?"

"Hans."

"Auf Wiedersehen, Hans." With that, Manfred vanished into the night.

Hans turned and bounded through the woods back to the stalag, where Sieglinde and Gerda anxiously awaited his return. As soon as he was safely in the compound, Gerda asked, "What did you find out?"

"Company's coming—a suspicious Gestapo Major, not Hochstetter this time—and here we are, with the Colonel and his men out on a mission! It's too bad we didn't know about this sooner, so we could have stopped them from leaving like we did once before."

Gerda closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "Well, we can't keep them from carrying out all their missions, can we? But this is a very bad time for visitors."

Sieglinde cocked her head and regarded her brother. "You've got a plan, haven't you? What are you going to do?"

Hans said grimly, "I am going to go where no dog has gone before...inside Barracks 2."

This was the worst part of the whole job. Waiting, and hoping, and praying.

Waiting for the Colonel and the others to return. Hoping against hope that their absence would not be discovered in the meantime. Praying that everyone was safe, and that the mission had been successful.

Rick Baker looked around the small subterranean room. This was Kinch's domain, his kingdom, his undisputed area of expertise; but on nights like tonight it belonged to Baker. The Colonel, Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter had a date with a strategic bridge tonight and it wasn't clear when they would be back, so Baker had the place to himself.

Baker smiled as he touched the Morse key of the radio with unconscious affection. The radio gave him a sense of belonging, a feeling that he was not just "sitting it out", that he was still in the fight to defeat the Nazis.

It was good to feel needed. But radio silence had been ordered prior to the Colonel's departure, and there was nothing for him to do down here right now. It would be a good idea to go up top and try to get some sleep—as if any of the occupants of Barracks 2 could sleep while the Colonel and his men were outside the wire! But he might as well try.

As Baker rose to his feet he heard a voice urgently calling his name. He dashed to the tunnel leading to Barracks 2, but before he even reached the bunk ladder a POW dropped to the floor of the tunnel with a thud, having skipped most of the rungs in his haste to descend.

It was Sergeant Goldman, wearing the Colonel's pajamas—standard procedure when the Colonel was out on a night mission. The dark-haired Goldman looked enough like the Colonel to pass for him in dim light, as long as he scrunched his face up and wasn't in a position for his lack of height to be noticeable. So, more often than not, Goldman acted as Hogan's bunk-double whenever Newkirk or Olsen weren't available to fill that role.

But there was nothing routine about the look on Goldman's face. "Baker!" he gasped, his eyes wide. "Something's up—one of the dogs was scratching at the barracks door!"

"What?" Baker thought he was prepared for anything, but this was a first. "What did you do?"

"We let him inside, of course. Come on!" Goldman scampered back up the ladder with Baker right behind him.

As Baker climbed out of the bunk opening he scanned the dimly lit room. It was after lights out, and although the barracks was tightly shuttered, the POWs were always very careful not to let a glimpse of tell-tale light escape to alert the Germans. But even in the dimness he could see the reason for Goldman's agitation.

One of the guard dogs was pacing the common room, watched with some trepidation by the group of POWs.

"Relax, fellas. You know he's not gonna hurt you," Baker said to the room at large, and the dog stopped in his tracks. He eyed Baker consideringly, and then walked up to him and whined.

"Whaddya think he wants?" asked Broughton, scratching his head.

"I dunno," said Saunders. "Maybe Timmy fell down a well?"

"Very funny," said Goldman. "But he's worried about something, I can tell. Came here to warn us, maybe."

His perspicacity was rewarded with a soft woof.

"Okay, let's ask him," said Broughton. He leaned down to address the dog. "Does the Colonel need help?"

The dog shook his head.

"Trouble here at camp, then?'

The dog nodded.

It was insane, but Baker believed him; somehow, the dogs always knew. Time for an executive decision, he thought. He said crisply, "If there's trouble, we'll need to be ready for anything, and it's gonna be tough with the Colonel and the guys being gone."

The dog trotted over to Addison and placed a paw on his knee. Addison looked down at the dog and back up at Baker, his eyes questioning.

"Okay," Baker said slowly. "We'll use that ploy. Addison, you've spent a lot of time posing as a guard here. Get into Luftwaffe uniform, take the dog out into the compound with you, and make like a guard. We might have to create a diversion if there's an emergency roll call, so take a couple of firecrackers along and just follow our lead, okay?"

Addison nodded; he was already at the bunk entrance, ready to descend the ladder. Baker then turned to Goldman: Goldman, a technical sergeant, actually outranked Baker (who was a mere buck sergeant) but in the unconventional world of Barracks 2, that didn't matter at all. The Colonel was the man in charge, and his men worked together regardless of rank.

So Goldman didn't turn a hair when Baker said, "Get into the Colonel's bunk and pretend to be sleeping, but have his spare jacket and cap ready to put on at a moment's notice. If we're ordered out into the compound, stick to the shadows and keep moving. You should be able to pass as the Colonel in a pinch; lucky for us Schultz is on duty tonight."

"Okay, Baker."

Broughton said, "I'll go down in the tunnel and head for the other barracks to warn them."

Baker nodded. "Good. Then grab a couple of firecrackers and meet me outside the delousing station. We'll need to keep our eyes open and be ready to act. Let's move."

"I am Major Pruhst, and I am investigating suspicious underground activity that has been occurring in the vicinity of Luftstalag 13!" The nondescript officer, who was discreetly attired in a black fedora and matching trench coat, slapped his leather gloves on Klink's desk for emphasis.

Klink was tired of drop-in visitors, especially ones who timed their visits for the wee hours of the morning. And this one was particularly annoying—imagine demanding to see the Senior POW Officer at this time of night! Who did the fellow think he was, anyway?

But Gestapo was Gestapo, and Klink never argued with Gestapo. At least, not for long. He assumed a condescending air and said, "Major Pruhst, I was just about to order a special roll call anyway. I like to keep the prisoners off-balance, and my guards on their toes." He picked up his phone with a flourish, and summoned Sergeant Schultz to his office.

A few minutes later, as he and Pruhst emerged onto the porch of the Kommandantur, Klink noted irritably that it was so cold he could see his own breath. And throughout the compound the hastily assembled prisoners were shuffling their feet and clutching blankets around themselves in an effort to keep warm.

Squinting through his monocle in the direction of Barracks 2, Klink spotted a familiar leather jacket and jauntily tilted cap. "There is Colonel Hogan, over there," he said to Pruhst, pointing. "Are you certain you would not wish to wait until morning to..."

A frantic barking interrupted Klink, and to his astonishment he saw one of the guards being dragged toward the east fence, with a ferocious German shepherd straining at the leash. Just short of the fence the dog stopped abruptly and started digging.

The two men on the porch watched for a moment, the assembly forgotten. "What on earth..." Klink began, but Pruhst took the porch steps in a single bound.

"Aha!" he cried. "A tunnel, and very near the fence! So my theory was correct!"

What else was there to do? Klink took a deep breath, and screeched: "Sound the alarm! Let loose the dogs!"

Naturally, this was the moment Sieglinde and the others had been waiting for. As soon as the gate of the dog pen was swung open, they poured out, barking with enthusiasm. The dogs took their cue from Hans and promptly headed to various points in the compound and started digging.

All except Friedrich. He sat down in front of the Kommandantur, pointed his nose at the moon, and commenced howling. This was an unprecedented opportunity and Friedrich took full advantage of it. He called upon all his instincts from his long-ago wolf ancestors, and put his heart and soul into it.

Awoooooooo...

The eerie sound caused everyone's hackles to rise, human as well as canine, and Pruhst said uneasily, "Why is that Hund howling?"

Sergeant Schultz glanced at the dog and shivered. "It means something ver-r-ry terrible is about to happen, Herr Major."

Pruhst did not appear to be reassured by this statement, and he narrowed his eyes nervously as he scanned the compound.

At the east fence, Addison leaned over the hole Hans was busy digging and surreptitiously dropped an object into it. He then backed away from the hole with an exaggerated movement that conveyed extreme alarm.

This caught Pruhst's attention and he rushed over to investigate. "Was ist los? Let me see!" He pushed the faux guard aside unceremoniously and peered into the hole. "Aha!"

"What is it?" Klink hurried over and made a horrified exclamation. "An explosive device, Major! Don't touch it!"

"Of course I'm not going to touch it! You will need to get a bomb-disposal unit here to deal with this."

Klink said uneasily, "But the prisoners! Their safety..."

As if on cue, firecrackers went off from behind the delousing station and the recreation hall. Between the barking, the noise of the firecrackers, the agitated shouts of the POWs, and above all this, Friedrich's incessant and unearthly howls, Luftstalag 13 seemed like a not so very safe place to be. And Major Pruhst was no hero.

"I am not concerned with the safety of these Terrorflieger, Klink!" he shouted over the din. "Just do as I say—I shall deal with this madhouse at a later time!" He hurried off to climb into his borrowed car and was soon seen to be exiting the front gates in cloud of dust.

Klink sighed, and then turned to Schultz, who stood aghast. "Get all of the prisoners into the barracks, at once."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!"

Back in the dog pen, Gerda lifted her front paw and examined it critically. "I think I broke a nail."

Sieglinde shuddered and licked at her own paw. "Ooh, I hate the feeling of dirt between my toes."

"A little dirt is nothing," said Dieter. He turned to glare at Friedrich. "But all that howling gave me the willies! Was that really necessary?"

Friedrich drew himself up. "It was merely corroborative detail," he said haughtily, "intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative."

Dieter was about to dispute this outrageous claim, but Hans forestalled him. "Ja, well, it helped get rid of the Gestapo—that's what's important."

"Think of it as doing your bit for the Resistance," Hildegard suggested. "Wolfgang will be proud of us, I think."

The other dogs agreed, but Dieter muttered, "Maybe, but Wolfgang didn't have to listen to it."

Meanwhile, in Barracks 2, the lower bunk concealing the bunk entrance shot up and Colonel Hogan, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau all climbed out. They were in good spirits, and Baker assumed their mission had been successful. He smiled slightly as they appeared, but his greeting was noticeably subdued.

"Tired, Baker?" Hogan asked kindly.

Baker turned a hollow-eyed gaze on him. "Not really, sir. I mean, it's not as if we were outside the wire like you and the others."

Hogan chuckled. "True. Well, there's one less bridge in Hammelburg tonight, and we're all back in one piece: a good night's work. And things look pretty quiet here—I hope you gentlemen weren't too bored while we were gone. But just remember: 'They also serve who only stand and wait.' "

Baker looked at Addison, who looked at Broughton, who looked at Goldman, who gulped. Then they all looked at Hogan and replied meekly, "Yes, sir."

A/N: The events in this story take place prior to the episode "Hogan's Double Life", wherein Major Pruhst takes on the role of suspicious Gestapo major that is usually played by Wolfgang Hochstetter. I figured there had to be a reason why Hochstetter was MIA in that episode.

And in case anyone is wondering about Manfred the cat, he first made an appearance in an early story of mine ("The Unsung Hero", which also chronicles the adventures of Major Hochstetter, Allied agent).