a/n: Written in response to a great song first-lines challenge by Canadian Hogan's Fan and me. We chose from a list of song titles to introduce a story. I chose the song title "In Your Dreams." It's not a completed piece, so I hope I can keep up with chapter updates!
Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.

The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy

:: Part, the First ::

In your dreams, anything can happen. I know, I know, you told me. In your dreams, you conquer the world and live like a king. Ha! In my dream, I was a spy. You know I've always wanted to be a spy. The kind in pictures, of course. But that goes without saying... Anyway, I ought to explain to you, that now my dream came true! No fooling. I was a spy.

It started with Uncle Klein, the one with the peaked hat. Of course. You know he's one of those big shots in the government. Papa calls him "top brass." Funny, because we keep our brass on the mantlepiece, and I never saw him on top of any of it.

Anyway...

You know I don't know a whit about what's going on in the world today. After all, says Mama, I'm only ten and a half. Well! If one must be a spy, one must know at least something about the world's goings-on. So like any good spy I raided Papa's briefcase and office and tried to make heads and tails of what the blazes was going on.

Oh, I forgot about Uncle. Well, that's going to have to wait. First, I have to tell you about Papa's briefcase. Or more, about a letter he wrote to a friend of his. That finally cleared the air somewhat. You know, I could never understand why the papers he had which were marked "Top Secret" were marked "Top Secret." The insides were so convoluted and small-printed, no one with a decent pair of eyes could read it. Well, there were pictures, so I guess that helped. Boring pictures, of course. Fuzzy shots of random people. But anyway...

Papa's letter. Seems like our, what he called, "political situation" was, what he called, "dire." Now I take that to mean bad, really bad, because later on, he mentioned something about sabotaging Uncle's mission for "the Fuhrer." Now I think I know what "Fuhrer" means. I know you'd figure it out, but I think that's another name for the political leader we have, the one who shakes hands with everybody in the pictures – the biggest shot, I guess.

Well, Papa wrote that he knew something about something (I forget the wording; it's all so grown-up, you know), and that he would do something when Uncle brings him along on a trip the latter was taking. Papa's in the police, you know; he gets to wear those spiffy black outfits with the big belt and tie and the drawing on the arm. Mama always cringes when he puts it on in the morning, so I cringe, too. I've yet to ask her why.

But back to the point! Papa got Uncle to bring him along on the trip. Now, things were pretty uptight around the house by now. Mama put me to bed earlier and earlier and things were happening downstairs constantly. So like any good spy, I put my ear to the floor or peeked down the stairs to observe the goings-on. Seemed like my parents were meeting some local townspeople. They said they were underground for almost a year. My, but they looked pretty clean for having burrowed in the dirt for so long.

But anyway...

Now I ought to mention that Uncle isn't really my uncle. He was just a good friend of Papa before Papa had to wear the black outfit (you know, when he wore that boring old brown thing in the printer's shop and got dust all over him all the time). Now Uncle got Papa the job he has now, so they work pretty close. Uncle hasn't been having dinner with us recently, though. I find that odd, but maybe it's because the two of them are together almost all the time anyway. I think that's Papa's job – to be with Uncle.

So when I said it all started with Uncle, I meant it. Papa got a call telling him that they'd be leaving for a prison camp the next day. Mama was frantic. I'm sure there was something much more than a simple trip involved. So like a good spy, I kept my ear to the door of my room and listened.

"You'll have to come with me," Papa was saying.

"Won't it be suspicious?"

"Take our car and go to Hammelberg tomorrow. I'll be in his car, remember? It'll be safe."

"How will I know you have everything ready?"

A pause.

"You'll be guarding him all the time," Mama pressed.

Nothing was said anymore that night. I think Papa was thinking. The next morning, Mama had packed all my clothes and almost burst her suitcase with dresses of her own. I know Papa used to say women were a pain, and I guess I could see that now. Dragging that bag down the hall was worse than math class. Luckily, she took it the rest of the way to the car.

Speaking of math class, Mama pulled me out of school that day. Nifty, huh?

But then Mama explained that Papa had gone with Uncle to the prison already.

"Before I woke up?" I asked.

"Yes, honey, early in the morning. But we'll catch up with him soon. See, I packed your bags? We're leaving today."

So we packed ourselves into Papa's old brown car and went off down the big road. I was reading Emil and the Detectives, so I can't explain much about what the road looked like or anything like that, but I can tell you that Emil sure inspired me to be a great spy!

Then Mama announced we were here. We unpacked at a big hotel. Mama was so tired that she took a nap right away. Now let me go slowly, because things got interesting from here on out.

So Mama was napping. I was wide awake. She'd told me to have some fun, like she did before. At home, that often meant playing ball on the street below or exploring the shops. Well, I took that opportunity and ran! Quite literally. But I left a little note in case I was late, telling her where I'd most likely be.

So first thing first, I went to find where Papa went, because, besides being with Papa obviously, I would also get closer to the goings-on I was sure to encounter.

Now this of course is where the spy stuff happens.

I asked for the location of the nearest prison, like a right good gentleman – and got weird looks. So I asked a little boy not much bigger than I. He pointed me in the right direction.

Now, I have to catch my breath a bit. You'll wait for my story, ja? I won't be long.