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Chapter 1

"Mon dieu, it is freezing!" Lebeau complained, stamping his feet against the snow.

"Where's the bloody Commandant away?" Newkirk added, blowing on his fingers, as he cast an envious glance at Colonel Hogan. The man never acted like he felt the cold, he reflected. Maybe officers are immune.

"Report!" shouted Klink, venturing onto the porch outside his office. The prisoners looked longingly at the German's nice warm coat.

"All present and correct, herr Commandant!" Schultz called.

"Dismissed!" Klink called hurriedly, retreating back inside.

"'Bout bloody time!" muttered Newkirk.

Just as the prisoners scattered to their barracks, a car was admitted through the gate, and drove sluggishly up to Klink's office. It had Gestapo insignia, and was belching smoke, a sight which caused the watching prisoners to point and jeer, even as Klink came rushing back down the steps. Hochstetter emerged from the vehicle.

"Wow, he looks mad," commented Carter.

"'E always looks mad," responded Newkirk dryly.

Hochstetter was shouting something about using Klink's phone, to be informed that phone lines were down in the last snow, there was more snow threatening, and he and his men were welcome to stay the night (this last said through gritted teeth, Hogan thought in amusement – Klink didn't like Hochstetter any more than Hochstetter liked him.)

"Coming inside,Colonel?" Kinch asked. "It's freezing out here."

Hochstetter's voice floated clearly across the courtyard."I will need to make use of your cooler." He thumped on the car window and another Gestapo agent emerged, dragging out a man in a RAF captain's uniform, his wrists and ankles manacled. Hogan's eyes widened as he watched the man being dragged to the cooler, with Hochstetter demanding Klink post guards.

Hogan watched them enter Klink's office, and then went into the barracks, the others following. "Coffee pot,Colonel?" asked Kinch.

"I'll take this one in private, fellas," Hogan replied, disappearing into his room and closing the door.

Carter stared in bewilderment at the closed door. "Why didn't he want us?"

"Ruddy peculiar," said Newkirk.

"Maybe Le Colonel knows that man," Lebeau wondered.

Kinch shrugged. "Maybe."

Less than twenty minutes later Hogan emerged, crossed to the door and opened it a crack, watching Hochstetter as he left Klink's office alone, walked to the cooler and shouted at the sentries, before heading to the guest quarters. Hogan shut the door and turned around, seeing his team and the others in the barracks looking at him expectantly.

He took a deep breath. "Lebeau, could I ask you to fix a meal and bring it through the tunnel once you're done."

"Oui, mon colonel," said Lebeau, hurrying to the stove.

"Newkirk," Hogan continued, "Come with me, and bring your toolkit."

"Gov," said Newkirk, following him.

In the cooler, the occupant of the cell didn't bat an eyelid as one of the blocks moved out, followed by Hogan. By the time Newkirk had joined him, Hogan was sitting next to the still-shackled prisoner, both leaning back against the wall and apparently quite relaxed. "Jack," said Hogan.

"Rob," said the RAF captain. "So, you come here often?"

"Hottest place in town," Hogan replied.

The captain chuckled, turning his eyes on Newkirk and favouring him with a charming smile. "Captain Jack Harkness," he said.

"Corporal Peter Newkirk, sir," said Newkirk, saluting, though he despised saluting and didn't quite know why he'd done it.

"At ease," said the Captain. "It's not like I can return the favour." He indicated his secured wrists.

Newkirk glanced at Hogan. "Did you want me to ..." Hogan nodded, and Newkirk set to work.

"Don't break anything," said Captain Harkness. "They have to go back on." Hogan looked at him sharply but didn't say anything.

"Relax, Captain," replied Newkirk cheerfully. "I don't break things, I unlock them." He was silent for a moment. "So," he began conversationally, "you two known each other long?"

Harkness laughed. "Newkirk," said Hogan, "Just the chains, no questions."

"Yes, gov," Newkirk responded reluctantly. "Can ... can I ask what's a yank doing in the RAF?"

"Been living in Wales," said Jack. "Joined up at the start of the war." The chains dropped from his wrists. "Thanks," he said in relief, rubbing his raw wrists appreciatively.

There was a noise from the tunnel. A metal bowl appeared, followed by Lebeau. "Bonsoir, Monsieur le Capitaine," he said, straightening up and bringing over the bowl. "I am Corporal Louis Lebeau, and this," he handed Harkness the bowl, "is Ragout au lapin."

"Rabbit stew," translated Newkirk, to a glare from Lebeau.

"Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Lebeau," Jack replied, taking a mouthful. "Tres magnifique." Lebeau started talking rapidly in French.

"Louis," said Hogan in exasperation, and Lebeau subsided.

Newkirk, meanwhile was watching the captain wolf down the stew. "When did you last eat?" he asked curiously.

Harkness shrugged. "A few days."

"Ruddy bastards," replied Newkirk feelingly, even as Lebeau started swearing in French.

"Quiet!" Hogan ordered. "Both of you, go back to the barracks."

"Nice to meet you," called Jack as they reluctantly headed for the tunnel. "That French boy's got a foul mouth," he added.

"Always suspected as much," Hogan replied. "Do you know where they're taking you?"

"Dusseldorf," said Jack between mouthfuls of food.

"Why Dusseldorf?"

"There's a research lab there," Jack said.

"What kind of research?" asked Hogan patiently.

"Medical."

Hogan stared at him with a sinking feeling. "Tell me they don't know about you!" Jack chewed thoughtfully. "Jack!"

"Well, that was the plan," Jack admitted. "They don't know everything, though."

"Do you have any idea what they'll do to you?" Hogan hissed.

"I need to get in there," Jack said simply.

"Whatever happened to sneaking in the old-fashioned way?"

Jack didn't look at him. "Security's pretty tight, so they tell me."

Hogan suddenly understood. "This wasn't your idea."

Jack shrugged. "Orders."

Hogan sighed. "Yeah."

Jack finished scraping out the bowl. "My compliments to the chef." He handed the bowl to Hogan with a grin.

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Well, I might need some help with travel arrangements once I'm done," Jack said. "I've got the contacts and passwords."

"Then I'll see you ... later." He stood up, and Jack held out his wrists. "Crap," muttered Hogan, reluctantly refastening the manacles. He turned to go.

"Rob." Hogan looked back. "Don't worry so much. I'll be fine."

Hogan forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Don't kid a kidder, Jack."