October 1944

Jout was crouching behind bushes on a small hill with a gun in his hand, ready to shoot. From his position, he had the perfect view on the barn that was the rendezvous point for a meeting with an unfamiliar underground agent, code name Snow Fox. This morning, a message had reached them from an underground unit they work really close with, and they had informed them that Snow Fox had information about two recent failed missions. Both had been traps by the Gestapo, but luckily, Hogan respectively Newkirk had managed to get away without a scratch. And now Jout was watching the barn and tried to figure out the best way to approach it without giving himself up. The front of the barn was completely open to see for anyone, something Jout did not like at all. At least there were trees right behind the barn, the perfect route if he had to escape from Gestapo goons.

Jout looked around again, but still did not see anything unusual. Everything was quiet, and so he slowly made his way down the hill and to the barn. As he reached the door, he looked around one more time before he quietly entered the barn. It was completely dark except for two gas lamps, and he was all alone. Jout immediately drew his gun closer, fearing another trap. But then he figured that if Snow Fox really had information about the Gestapo infiltrating the underground, he would not stand in clear line of fire while he waited for him to arrive. At least he hoped so.

With his gun still close to his body, Jout said the code given by the underground. "The North Star is shining brightly tonight."

"I wish we could see the Northern Lights instead," came a voice from his right.

Jout turned his head and saw a small figure emerging from the shadows who was lowering its gun. "You are Snow Fox?" asked Jout doubtfully. Before him stood a teenage boy, who only reached to Jout's chest. He had dark blond hair and the jacket he wore was too big for him.

"Ja. Is something wrong?" asked the boy with a thick German accent.

"But you're a kid!" Jout shook his head, disapproving. "This war is no place for a kid."

"Hey! Who do you call a Kind? I'm fifteen years old," said Snow Fox. "And perhaps you have not noticed, but the war is right on my doorstep. It started when I was ten."

"But you do realize that you're part of the underground now, do you? You could be shot as a traitor if the Gestapo catches you, or worse."

"I know that! But I want to do something good; something to be proud of," said Snow Fox.

Jout pinched the back of his nose, still not pleased by the idea of a child in such a danger. But they needed to know what the Gestapo was up to. "All right," he sighed. "Since you're already here, what do you know about the recent traps?"

"The underground is not their primary target," declared the young boy. "Your unit is his target. He wants Papa Bear."

"Who is 'he'? And how do you know that?" asked Jout, alarmed by what the boy said.

"He is new at Gestapo Headquarters; his name is Major Fuhrmann. When I was at the Hofbräu, I heard two Gestapo soldiers talking about the latest trap. One said that the new Gestapo major was even more determined in catching Papa Bear than Major Hochstetter. And the other said that the Gestapo officials would surely get rid of this major soon since the two traps had not worked."

Before Jout could ask Snow Fox something else, they heard a machine gun fire. There were bullets flying through the barn, and Jout threw himself on Snow Fox instinctively. While bullets flew over his head, Jout looked down to see the young boy lying motionless underneath him, his eyes closed. "Snow Fox?" he asked, his voice full of panic. He tapped his cheek, but Snow Fox did not react. Suddenly, Jout felt something wet at his shirt. He looked down and was greeted with the sight of Snow Fox's entire shirt being soaked in blood, with a hole right in the middle of his chest and another in his stomach area. "Please, God, no!" Jout prayed as he checked for a pulse. When he found none, Jout bashed the ground next to Snow Fox's dead body, feeling the anger rising in him over another unnecessary death in this senseless war.

The bullets were still flying through the barn; the Gestapo probably wanted to make sure that no one in the barn survived their trap. Jout grabbed his hat that flew from his head when he had ducked and crawled to the backdoor of the barn, making sure to keep his head as low as possible but also being quick at it. He scrambled to his feet as soon as he exited the barn and ran straight into the forest, hoping that no Gestapo goon was following him. For the next five minutes, the only thing Jout did was running straight ahead without turning around. He tripped a few times and probably sprained his ankle at one time, judging from the sudden pain emerging from his right foot, but he kept on running until he had to stop to catch his breath. Jout turned around and despite seeing no sign that anyone was following him, he decided to make a detour back to camp; just to be on the safe side.

" 'e should 'ave been back two 'ours ago!" exclaimed Newkirk as he looked down on his watch. He was sitting at the common table with the rest of the team, a cup of tea in his hand, waiting for Jout's return. The absence of his boyfriend had him extremely worried, and even the tea and cigarette were not able to calm him down.

"Don't worry, Newkirk. He'll make it," Hogan said in a calm voice. Though he himself was anxious too, he knew he needed to keep a cool head for the sake of his team.

Newkirk stood up from the table and began to pace through the room, all eyes watching him. "Sure, 'e'll make it. It's just 'at the last two times we met with an unfamiliar agent were traps, and now Josh's late from 'is meetin' with yet another unfamiliar agent."

There was a dull bang coming from underneath the hidden tunnel entrance, indicating that someone wanted to come up. Baker jumped from his seat and pushed the hidden switch while the rest of the team gathered around the bunk bed. They watched how Jout climbed up the ladder and stepped over the rail, relieved that he was finally back. But the feeling of relief quickly changed to anxiety when they caught sight of the American's appearance.

"Josh, what happened?" asked Hogan concerned. "And what's with all the blood? Are you hurt?"

Jout looked down and saw that his white shirt was completely red, as well as the upper part of his trousers. Jout said nothing and only raised his glance, a blank expression covering his face. He felt how hands grabbed him and lead him over to the table where he was pushed down onto a stool. He heard voices talking to him, but he could not make out what those voices said to him; he was too shocked from what happened earlier.

When his vicinity became a bit clearer to him, he was able to make out his brother's voice, ordering someone to get Wilson. Then he felt a hand on his knee. "Josh, please tell me, what happened? Why are you covered in blood?" Hogan asked in a soothing voice, trying to get through to his younger brother.

"It's not mine," Jout mumbled, gazing at his hands that were covered in blood too. "It belongs to Snow Fox."

Hogan, who knelt in front of his brother, looked around, a worried expression on his face. He was greeted by his men looking equally fearful. "All right, Josh. You need to tell me what happened."

With his eyes still staring at his red hands, Jout began to explain. "Everything was completely normal at first. I met Snow Fox in the barn, and he told me that those two traps were designed to catch Papa Bear. Snow Fox said he heard two Gestapo soldiers talking about a new Gestapo major, Major Fuhrmann, saying that he was more determined in catching Papa Bear than Hochstetter." Jout had to stop as images of Snow Fox lying dead on the ground flooded his mind. He began to tremble, and then he felt an arm sliding around his shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. It was Newkirk, who tried to comfort his boyfriend. "Suddenly, bullets were flying through the barn, and I threw myself on Snow Fox. I looked down and saw him lying motionless on the ground. He had no pulse and…and his shirt was soaked in blood. I ran out of the barn and straight into the forest until I was out of breath. Then I took a detour to make sure no one was following me." Jout averted his gaze from his hands and looked his brother deep in the eyes. "Rob…Snow Fox…he was…he was only fifteen years old. The Gestapo killed a child!" He lowered his glance again and quietly said, "I have a child's blood on my hands."

Hogan stretched his hand out and lifted Jout's head with his finger. "Don't think like that, Josh. It's not your fault that Snow Fox got killed. He was the one who asked for the meeting." He turned his head and ordered, "Baker, tell Albert what happened. Inform him that Snow Fox completed his mission and ask him to find out more about this Major Fuhrmann. Same goes for London."

Baker nodded and climbed down the ladder into the tunnel. Seconds later, Medic Joe Wilson climbed up the ladder and stepped into the barracks, followed by LeBeau. When he spotted Jout sitting by the table, he rushed over to him and checked his pulse, fearing that the blood was at least partly from him. Jout pushed his hand away and angrily said, "I'm fine. I don't need a medic." He rose from his seat, but immediately cried out in pain and almost fell over when he put weight on his right foot.

Newkirk and Wilson caught Jout before he landed on the floor and pushed him back onto the stool. "You're fine, eh?" Wilson looked at Newkirk and said, "Get a pyjama of his. We need to get him out of those blood-stained clothes."

Together they stripped Jout down to his shorts and dressed him into his blue pyjama. Wilson then examined his right ankle while Newkirk got a bowl of lukewarm water and cleaned Jout's bloody hands. Jout did not react to any of that, only stared straight ahead with a faraway look in his eyes. When Wilson had put a bandage around his ankle, Newkirk helped Jout to lie down in Carter's bunk.

Wilson went over to his medical bag and said to Hogan, "I think it's best if I give him a sedative shot to sleep through the night. Luckily, London sent some in their last supply drop." He went over to Jout and sat down on the edge of the bunk, then he grabbed Jout's arm and rolled up his sleeve while saying, "This will help you sleep better, Lieutenant."

"I don't need medication," answered Jout sternly, his gaze directed at the bunk over him.

"Oh yes, you do," answered Wilson, his voice showing that he would not accept any objections. "You have a shock, Lieutenant; just look at how much you are shaking. Your body needs to rest."

Wilson gave him the shot and within a minute, he was not able to keep his eyes open any longer and the world around him faded into complete darkness.