Full Summary:Sargent Carter is chosen to be questioned by a Gestapo general about the questionable happenings at Stalag 13. At first, everyone is worried that he'll be tortured and give away secrets, neither of which are pleasant thoughts. They are angry when they find out that he was not tortured, but that he sold them all out for a German dinner party. Some wine, good food, and a girl, it seems, is all it takes to get Carter to sing like a bird. Behind the scenes, is a different story entirely. The others will find out the truth eventually. The question is after how long? And when they do, will it be too late?

A/N: I took a dive into this fandom over the summer, and decided to try my hand at a fanfic for it. Hopefully, you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hogan's Heros

The booming voice of Sergeant Schultz roused men from their early afternoon naps and card games.

"Role call! Up, up, up!" he called. Men groaned and grumbled, but slowly made their way out of the barracks. Only Hogan paused at the doorway.

"Something special happening?" he asked. "We never have role call in the middle of the afternoon."

"I know nothing," Schultz said, and his face conveyed that he was just as uninformed as the rest of them. "Except that I am to call you for a special role call."

"Klink's idea?" Hogan prodded.

"Ya," was the response. After a short pause he added, "Now out before you get me in trouble!" Outside, the men stood in their usual lazy formation in front of Klink. He was pacing, and his face held that vaguely troubled look that so often took up it's residence there.

"Everyone please stand straight and tall," the Colonel fretted. "And try to act professional. This is a very big deal."

"A big deal?" Hogan worked the Colonel for information. "It must be pretty big if it calls for a special role call."

"All I know, is that a Gestapo general is coming here for an inspection," Klink's eyebrows lowered even further, if that was possible. The news straightened quite a few of the men immediately, including most of the Germans. Hogan, of course, appeared unconcerned, and even cocked his hat at an unprofessional angle, simply because he knew it would irk both the Colonel in front of him, and the General that was soon to arrive. If he took a slightly larger breath when the gates opened and the Gestapo's car pulled into the yard, well, no one could prove that he was nervous. In all reality, though, he wasn't terribly worried. They had dealt with Gestapo inspections before, and had no problems. Their tunnels were secured, and no projects or secrets were visible at the current time.

When the General strode up, the mere sight of him had many of the prisoners standing as straight and tall as possible. Even Hogan found himself growing stiffer and more professional. In fact, his hand absently went up and straightened his hat, before both of his arms returned to his side.

"Herr General Schmidt," Klink greeted the new arrival. "How wonderful of you to drop by! It was quite the surprise when I heard that you were coming. A very pleasant surprise, that is," Klink attempted to flatter the soldier.

"I have heard rumors zhat you ramble on uselessly vhen you are in zhe presence of someone more important zhan you. Apparently zhey vere true." General Schmidt was stone-faced, and rather than appear exasperated like most men who encountered Klink, he only looked mildly disappointed. "Tell me Colonel Klink, have you noticed any suspicious activity going on in or around your camp?"

"No one has ever escaped from Stalag Thirteen, Herr General," the Colonel spoke proudly.

"Zhat is not vhat I asked you," the officer gazed about at the men. "I zhink I vill qvestion vone of your prisoners. You," he pointed to Sergeant Carter. Carter stepped forward in a salute.

"Yes sir?"

"Come vis me," he instructed. "Zhe rest of you go back to your barracks!"

"Hold on," Hogan exclaimed. "I have to protest! Under the Geneva Convention, you can't question him. All he's required to tell you is his name, rank, and serial number."

"I can ask him qvestions," the Gestapo corrected. "Vile he is not required to answer zhem, I can still ask zhem." Hogan deflated. This guy was no Klink. Or even a Major Hoschetter for that matter. Manipulating him would be no easy task.

"Alright, you heard him," Klink spoke up impatiently. "Back to your barracks." They went back soberly, some offering words of encouragement to Carter as they passed. The day a Gestapo officer followed the rules of the Geneva convention, would be the day Hogan stopped antagonizing Sgt. Wilhelm Klink. They would just have to wait until Carter came back. If he'd been tortured. Hogan could get the Red Cross involved. If not, they had nothing to worry about.

Back in the barracks, all of the men were on edge.

"They just 'ad to pick 'im," Newkirk rubbed at his face. "Of all the men- If 'e comes back with so much as a bruise, the lot of ruddy krauts won't know what 'it 'em!"

"Calm down, Newkirk," Kinch spoke up. "Remember, we're prisoners. We don't exactly have the upper hand against the Gestapo."

"We could take them on," LeBeau argued. "We've taken on Gestapo before."

"Not this one," Hogan sighed. "He's good. Too good."

"So what? We just let 'em do whatever they want with our friend?" Newkirk was incredulous. "Just like that?"

"Look, if he comes back and says he was so much as touched, I can contact Red Cross or at least use them as leverage. If he comes back unharmed, then we don't have an issue." Newkirk deflated, because he knew the colonel was right.

There was a lot of pacing in the barracks, waiting for Carter to return. When he did, they were mildly surprised to see a reserved smile on his face. He almost looked like he had… Enjoyed himself? He was accompanied by Schmidt, who patted him amicably on the back.

"Zhat vas a gut talk," the General smiled. "Perhaps ve shall haff anozer tomorrow, ya? You voud like some more of zhat gut bratvurst?"

"Uh, yeah, it was great," Carter agreed.

"Until tomorrow, my friend," The smile remained, and with that, the Gestapo agent left.

"What was that about?" Hogan demanded.

"Lemme guess, you all want to know about how things went?" There was no audible reply, but the looks on everyone's faces was answer enough.

"Well first we went into Klink's office."

Actually it was the cooler.

"He asked me if I'd ever had a true, authentic German sausage before."

That's close enough… Assuming you replace sausage with torture…

"We had dinner together, and he asked me some harmless questions."

"Now zhen, let us talk… Vhat do you know about zhe secret operations at Stalag 13?"

"I gave him simple answers that were to the point."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I wasn't going to give him any information, but he served me wine, and brought in his assistant Greta."

"Do not play games! Tell me all zhat you know."

"You know how rare it is we get to spend time with a girl, Colonel."

Two guards were holding him by his arms, but if they hadn't he probably would have crumpled under the blow of the man's fist.

"I told him that sometimes we smuggle escaping prisoners through here. I figured that was a given at any POW camp."

More blows rained down on his midsection and his back. He didn't open his mouth, except to allow a sharp intake of breath.

"The only other thing I told him was that we have a couple of tunnels. I didn't tell him where they were. I didn't even tell him the exact number.

The blows were deliberately placed where their effects would be hidden by clothing.

"Well he was so generous, I thought I at least owed him that much."

The blows finally stopped, and the General spoke again. "Ve vill try again tomorrow, ya? In zhe meantime, you vill tell your fellow prisoners zhat ve haff had a vonderful time, eating und drinking, und laughing togezer. Perhaps also you had a gut time getting to know Gretta, my assistant, ya?"

"You want me to lie?"

"If you haff a problem vees zhat, perhaps I should talk to von of zhem instead?"

"No! Don't do that. Please. I- I'll go along with your story, just don't hurt any of them."

"Other than that, we just, I don't know. I guess we just had a good time," Sergeant Carter ended his story. He hoped it would be enough to appease the Colonel, because he wasn't sure how much more he could come up with. The disappointed look on Hogan's face, was worse than anger.

"Everyone head to your bunks," Hogan ordered quietly.

"Colonel," Newkirk was brave enough to speak up. "If I may protest-"

"No. You may not," was the terse reply. The men all saluted before quickly getting ready for, and going to bed. While unspoken, it was clear that there would be no work done tonight.