Family Feud
By
Jennaya
DISCLAIMER:
All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of CBS and Ryscher Entertainment. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
"Colonel Hogan, the krauts just brought in a lieutenant. He's being taken into Klink's office now," Garlotti said standing in the doorway of the barracks the baseball still in his hands he'd been tossing with Reynolds.
"Better see what our host has in store for him." Hogan stood up from the common table walked over grabbing his jacket and cover from the back of his door, put them on, then left the hut. He lazily walked across the compound confident the lieutenant would hold his own with the Kommandant for a few minutes. Hogan entered the building closing the door to the Kommandantur behind him smiling at Hilda. "He busy?" he pointed at Klink's door.
"With a new prisoner," she purred at him. "How do you always know what he's up too?"
"Lucky I guess," he winked at her as he crossed the room knocking on the closed inner office door. Not waiting for an answer, he barged inside. "New prisoner?"
"You're not invited," Klink sounded exasperated.
"As the Senior Prisoner of War Officer, I'm always invited to any interrogation of my men." Hogan stood beside the lieutenant and offered his hand. "Colonel Robert Hogan, welcome to the …."
"The toughest prisoner of war camp in Germany, where there's never been a successful escape. And there never will be. For you the war is over. Resign yourself to your new reality. Now Lieutenant, what airbase were you stationed at?" Klink interrupted the introductions.
"Smith, Oliver, Lieutenant, 796824."
Hogan stood beside the lieutenant sizing up the obviously sleep deprived man.
"That information I have. What I need is the location of your airbase."
"Smith, Oliver, Lieutenant, 796824."
"You will give me the information I need," Klink tossed the lieutenant's paperwork down on the desk in an attempt to appear menacing failing miserably.
Despite his best effort, Smith smirked at the Kommandant's actions.
"You dare laugh at a German officer? You'll spend a week in the cooler to learn discipline," Klink was incensed.
"Kommandant, he didn't mean to come off flippant. He's new and doesn't know you as we do. Plus, he's tired, and I'd bet hasn't eaten in a long time. Under such duress, a man is likely to do things he normally wouldn't. It won't take him long after some rest and food to learn you're a man not to be trifled with, but to be shown the utmost respect. I bet he's already learned his lesson," Hogan gave the lieutenant a look that said to play along. Smith nodded almost imperceptibly understanding the orders.
"Yes sir. I'm sorry Colonel. It won't happen again. I hope you'll forgive my lack of military courtesy."
"Well," Klink wasn't quite mollified.
"We all know you're a strict disciplinarian, someone to be respected, but you're also a great humanitarian. Allow me to take the lieutenant to the barracks and I'll ensure he knows what is expected of him all the time," Hogan said trying to come up with what else might swing Klink to do as he wanted.
"I'll forgive the infraction this once. However, I want it clearly understood if there's another breach of conduct, the cooler time will be doubled," Klink said shaking a finger at the lieutenant.
"I understand, sir. It won't happen again," Smith said with a straight face, his blue eyes imparting respect for Klink taking his cue from Colonel Hogan.
"See to it that it doesn't. He's assigned to Barracks Two. Dismissed," Klink said. Smith gave Klink a sharp salute while Hogan hastily tossed off a halfhearted one.
Both men left the building heading towards Barracks Two. "Thank you sir, for keeping me out of the cooler."
"It's all part of the service, but not always possible. When were you shot down?"
"About four days ago, I think. What day is it?"
"Friday. Rough interrogations?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle, sir. Knew my name, rank, and serial by heart and so do the Jerries now," Smith smiled trying to hide a yawn.
"Good man," Hogan had taken an instant liking to the younger man. As he opened the door to the barracks added, "You'll be bunking with me."
Newkirk was playing cards and didn't bother to look up at the two men entering the barracks.
"Just like a limey not to notice officers," Smith said.
Newkirk looked up replying with a poker face. "Nothing to notice about 'em. How did ya get to be an officer? Did you steal those clothes from some poor bloke leaving him shivering and naked?"
"Nope. Earned it the old fashion way."
"Well don't expect me to go saluting or any such nonsense," Newkirk walked over next to the new man.
"I'd faint dead away if you did," Smith had twinkle in his eye.
"Then I might have to just to see you pass out on the floor," Newkirk replied with a huge grin. The two men hugged each other warmly.
"I take it you know each other?" Hogan asked dumbstruck at the conversation. Newkirk wasn't typically so insubordinate.
"Yes, Gov'nor. Smitty and I go way back. What are you doing here?"
"Rescue mission."
"Typical Yank. Don't you know if you're rescuing someone, you're not supposed to get captured?"
"Sorry ol' chap, not here to rescue you. However, once my mission is complete, be happy to take you back to London with me. Interested in getting back into the fighting?"
"Newkirk gets into enough trouble around here," Hogan said.
"From the briefing Colonel Forbes gave me on your unit sir, I believe you. You'll need this," Smith pulled a folded paper from his flight jacket pocket handing it to Hogan.
Hogan unfolded the paper looked at it, then handed it to Kinch to decode. Kinch opened the newest codebook, deciphering the code in what would appear to be a 'Dear John' letter from the lieutenant's girl to the casual observer, once completed gave the paper back to Hogan. After reading the message, he addressed the rest of the men in the barracks. "Give us some space fellas." Everyone except his core team hurriedly left the hut; Olsen took charge making sure the Germans didn't walk in on the pow-wow. "All right lieutenant, you're legit. What's this about?"
"Actually it's Major. As I said, a rescue mission and I'm going to need your help sir," Smith unsuccessfully tried to stifle another yawn.
"Sit," Hogan said pointing to the common table wondering how the man was able to stand. "Let me make introductions to the rest of the team. Carter our explosives expert, Kinch our radioman and my second in command, and LeBeau chef and dog handler," he pointed to each man.
"Nice to make your acquaintance gentlemen," Smith sat down rubbing hands over his tired face forcing his eyes to stay open as his stomach let loose a loud growl.
"How long has it been since you've had any sleep or food?" Newkirk asked genuinely concerned for his friend sitting beside him.
"If this is Friday, I haven't slept since bailing out of a plane on Tuesday. But sleep can wait, the mission is critical," Smith rubbed the palm of his hands over his tired eyes.
"Here, this will help," LeBeau handed him a cup of steaming coffee and a sandwich.
"Thanks," Smith smiled taking a drink from the mug afterwards biting into the first food he'd seen in two days.
"Rough trip through the Dulug?" Kinch asked sitting next to Hogan.
"A Captain thought he'd make Major out of my interrogation. Was he wrong," Smith smirked quickly finishing off the sandwich.
"What's your mission?" Hogan asked sitting across from the newcomer.
"The Gestapo have a man whom must be retrieved before he talks. He has information on an initiative that's so secret…I can't even tell you anything about it."
"Boy that sounds serious," Carter said eyes wide in anticipation.
"It could mean the difference in the war's outcome. If the Jerries get the information, the war might drag on much longer if not cost the Allies the entire war. My mission is to retrieve him and find out what information he's given out at any cost. If necessary, lethal solution has been authorized," Smith said watching the shock in everyone else's eyes.
"London can't be bloody serious authorizing killing a man if we can't get him out!" Newkirk stood pacing around the hut.
"If he's in Gestapo hands, it might be a mercy killing," LeBeau said leaning against the bunk bed frame near Hogan's door.
"I doubt that, this man is a traitor. He's most likely being treated well."
"A traitor?" Newkirk was infuriated. "Let me get me bloody hands on him. I'll make him talk then give him what he's got coming."
"Oui, I'll help!"
"Gees, it'll be easy if the Gestapo have him. All we have to do is make a call, write up fake orders, put on Gestapo uniforms, then go pick him up at Gestapo Headquarters in town," Carter said.
"You think this will be that easy?" Smith asked incredulously thinking nothing was ever that easy.
"Why not?" LeBeau shrugged his shoulders. "We've done it before and have a contact."
"You have a contact in the Gestapo. What is he a low-level clerk?"
"Nope, a Captain and he's been helpful in the past," Newkirk said lighting up a cigarette.
"A traitor," Smith looked at Hogan questionably.
"Wouldn't call him a traitor, although the Gestapo might. He's a patriot who loves his country, but not the ruling powers. He's been helpful in several situations and if possible, he'll do what he can. We need to be mindful of the position he's in, since he knows the full extent of our operations," Hogan explained.
"Yeah, no one thinks anything about seeing him in our tunnels. If you're down there, don't be concerned if a blond Gestapo Captain is hanging out," Carter said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Smith shook his head in utter amazement, "Colonel Forbes did say you had an interesting organization."
"What can you say about this man?" Hogan asked understanding the man's shock.
"He's an RAFP Corpora…."
"You can't be bleeding serious? Royal Air Force Police Bobbie turned traitor?"
"Afraid so, ol' chap. He was on detail to ferry plans between the British and the Americans. Seems he started making noises about believing the Nazi propaganda and was relieved of duty until an investigation could be concluded. Two weeks later, important information was being couriered from one location to the next when they were ambushed. Two police officers were killed in the attack. One lived long enough to identity the corporal as the attacker." He stopped taking a long drink of the coffee. "The satchel taken has troop movements and strengths in it, so it's imperative the information is retrieved. We think he would use it as a bargaining chip and not outright hand it over to the Germans. Last intel had him heading in this direction, but now that's at least a week old. He could be anywhere in Germany at this point," he stopped gathering the words to continue.
"The information contains D-Day plans," Carter tossed out making everyone turn towards him. "I'm right aren't I?"
Smith looked at him in shock, even though he was exhausted he'd been careful in his description. How had the sergeant guessed correctly?
"Don't answer that Major. Carter, no more questions or guessing along those lines. That goes for everyone," Hogan ordered. "What else can you tell us about him?"
"Where did the intel come from?" Kinch asked.
"A well-placed source," he stopped looking over at Newkirk with sadness in his eyes then sighed heavily dreading telling the next part of his story. "We tracked him down in London and nearly had him cornered in the East End but he gave us the slip. He was the most hunted man in England, even his own sister was helping to lead the search."
"Pat, what are you doing?" She asked coming into the room knowing this was where her errant brother always hid.
He turned angry eyes towards his sister continuing to stuff paperwork into the briefcase. "I have to leave. How did you find me?"
"You always came here as a kid when you were upset. Please tell me what's going on. The things people are saying can't be true."
Patrick looked at his older sister, always the do-gooder, trying to take care of people. He'd tried to make her understand that England was on the wrong side of this war, but nothing worked. Unfortunately, she fought for the wrong country. Glancing back at the paperwork, he wouldn't let it be taken away this close to his goal.
"Talk to me. You're scaring me."
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"Germany. I have to leave now or I'll miss my chance."
"No, you can't go. I'll tell the authorities."
He didn't say anything, and with an exaggerated sigh reached into his bag pulling out a gun. "I'm sorry you feel that way." He shot her in the stomach watching as she fell where she stood. He leaned down kissing her forehead whispering, "I'm sorry, goodbye," before he took off into the night.
Using all of her strength, she pulled herself up, tore a pieced of her skirt off binding the wound, and slowly made her way out of the abandoned waterfront factory. She walked nearly a half of a kilometer before reaching a checkpoint looking for her brother. Major Smith saw her coming and ran to her. With her dying breath, she told him her brother's plans to swap the information for safe harbor in Germany.
"What's the man's name?" Hogan asked.
"Nottington. Patrick Nottington." Then turning towards Newkirk he said, "Peter, I'm sorry. Rita is dead."*
Newkirk couldn't believe his ears. It couldn't be true his mind screamed. His legs felt like wet noodles as they gave way, and he sank to the floor landing on his arse. His eyes burned like fire with hot tears streaming down his face, barely able to get a word out, "Rita."
* Newkirk states Rita Nottington is his girlfriend in the episode Is There A Traitor In The House. I thought she deserved a story.
Authors Note:
I started this a few years ago but then life happened. It's been updated and is complete now, but needs a good beta. If anyone is interested in betaing, please send me a PM.