This is literally just a clip from a story. I must have suddenly wanted to write it, since I came across it earlier and thought, "This isn't half bad!" So I'm dumping it here. I do have plans to write this story one day, and I'm not even sure if I'm leaving this scene in … Anyway. I hope you do enjoy it, as I recall that I enjoyed writing it. :)
DISCLAIMER: (This is a thing, right?) So, I'm sorry to tell you that I don't own the rights to any of these wonderful characters, or any of this setting. I can only hope I did them justice.
"Hogaan!" The Kommandant's voice became a petulant whine. Dietrich watched with disbelieving fascination as the Colonel shook a fist at the American. "I'm busy right now. Dismissed!"
"Oh, but then I'd miss the party, Kommandant!" Hogan grinned, sauntering closer to the German. "Under the Geneva Convention you can't interrogate new prisoners without me."
"Hogan." Klink's voice had lowered, wavering as he glared threateningly. The American Colonel didn't stop though, merely turning to the Patrol.
"Name, rank and serial number only."
Troy's look at that was pretty great. He just glared, his eyes speaking for him; 'Duh.'
That didn't deter Hogan either, and he just grinned again, "Ol' Klink give you fellas the run-down?"
"Hogan! Now is not the time! These are not regular prisoners!" Klink said it as though he wasn't aware how sensitive the information was, but Dietrich couldn't just stand by and listen anymore, no matter how confused he was.
"Kommandant. It would be advisable to avoid telling any more to the Colonel."
"Tell me what?" Hogan leaned in, and Dietrich was amazed at how quickly Klink crumbled.
"None of this is your business, Hogan!"
"If they're my men now, it is my business." The American replied flippantly.
"Dismissed, Hogan!" Klink gave a jerky salute with an icy glare.
"I'll go, but under protest." The prisoner didn't seem all that worried as he saluted sloppily back.
"Noted." Klink muttered as Hogan left the room, winking at the Patrol as he went.
"Who was that?" Dietrich had to know, yet had a good guess.
"Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior Prisoner of War." Klink sighed, not meeting Dietrich's eyes. The Patrol seemed affected by the name, and shared a few looks with each other while Dietrich clarified.
"In a Stalag?"
"General Beidenbender's orders." Klink turned back to the patrol, sighed again and then stepped to the door, opening it to call out. "Schultz!"
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" The rotund Feldwebel from earlier came in swiftly.
"Take these prisoners to the cooler and guard them!"
"At once Herr Kommandant!"
"It would do better if you used more than one guard." Dietrich advised. Klink just looked at him for a moment before nodding at Schultz, who led the men out politely. Dietrich wondered at that unusual gentleness, but decided it was because of the injuries.
"Now, what is so important about these men that you had to bring them here?" Klink sat down, motioning for Dietrich to do the same.
"They have been a thorn in the side of the Afrika Korps for far too long, Herr Oberst." Dietrich explained as he lowered himself into the seat. "They were finally captured, and were going to be sent to different prison camps, but I managed to explain to my superiors that it would be best if they were kept together, in the best camp we have." He tried to make himself sound as ruthless as possible, since the last thing he needed was to be accused of complicity.
"Yes, I understand." Klink said it in a way that made Dietrich wonder if he really did understand. He didn't have much time to contemplate it before the alarms went off in the compound. Both of them were on their feet almost immidiately, and Dietrich rushed to the window, opening it to find chaos reigning in an adrenaline fueled atmosphere that had been previously filled with monotony and quiet. Prisoners were running every which way, and guns were going off everywhere. There was the Patrol, already in a car–a staff car–shooting left and right as they drove wildly towards the gates.
"Oh mein-" Klink spoke breathily. Dietrich could see that the guards were huddled down, and the fat Sergeant was down on the ground next to the cooler entrance. The Hauptmann couldn't tell whether or not he was dead.
Shots were still being fired as the Patrol continued towards the gates, but they never got to go through them, as a wave of prisoners blocked the way. Dietrich could hardly believe his eyes. The Patrol obviously couldn't either, and they turned violently, heading towards the fence instead.
Suddenly, Dietrich saw something that he had never expected to see. There was a prisoner, somehow having gotten on top of his barrak, a pistol in his hand. He took aim and shot it quickly, jumping off the roof before Dietrich could even be sure he'd seen it. A tire was blown. The car spun, tipped, and ended up on its side.
Even as the Patrol climbed out of it, guards surrounded them; the prisoners having backed off to their respective barraks quite suddenly. Dietrich followed Klink out as the older man all but ran to the site of the incident. Halfway there, they found that they had to weave their way through a plethora of prisoners, Klink gave a few shouts, telling them to move, and yet they still had to extricate themselves from the mob of men when they got to the other side. The guards moved out of the way when they arrived, revealing the Rat Patrol, hands on their heads in surrender, all glaring.
There was a long drawn out silence, with Klink out of breath and Dietrich not quite knowing what to say, since it was the prisoners that had stopped them. The prisoners were whispering though, and it was disconcerting.
Then Troy spoke, "You didn't tell us you were sending us to a camp of traitors, Captain." His glare said the rest.
"There are no traitors here!" Klink sounded affronted, and Dietrich shook his head, refuting what he'd seen earlier in his mind as he answered.
"I did warn you that this was our toughest camp, Sergeant."
Suddenly all of the whispers stopped. As one, Klink and Dietrich turned to see what had happened, only to watch as the crowd parted around their Colonel. Hogan had an unreadable look, but his step was brisk.
"Hey fellas!" He walked up with a note of cheerfulness that was entirely out of place. "Tough break, you almost made it! I think you were the closest we've ever gotten!"
"Is it because you never try?" Troy spoke again, his voice grinding in his throat.
Hogan didn't reply, but instead turned and looked at all of the prisoners. He held the look with a specific one of them for a long time before giving a nod, and then all of the prisoners silently dispersed.
Dietrich was impressed at the control that the Colonel seemed to hold over his men. He didn't have a long time to contemplate it though, since that's when the silence ended.
"Hogan! Why did you let this happen?!" Klink turned angrily to him. "This sort of thing is always your fault!"
"My fault!" Hogan cried indignantly, but his voice was tinged with a weariness that only command could bring. "You told me it was none of my business!"
"Yes, well it's your business now!' Klink turned as his adjutant walked up and clicked his heels together with a sharp salute. "Report!"
"Herr Kommandant, 11 guards shot, 2 dead, 4 prisoners shot." The man stared straight ahead, and Klink all but whispered.
"Two dead?" He looked at Hogan, who for once acted serious, giving a small nod of confirmation. "Who?"
"Fleiger Hoover and Gefreiter Frei."
"Hoover und Frei?" Klink's face was unreadable, but Dietrich could relate. He'd had many a good man die at the hands of the Rat Patrol.
"I'll have my men help clean up." Hogan said it so quietly, Dietrich wasn't even sure if he'd heard it. Klink just nodded before locking eyes with his adjutant once more.
"Take these men to the cooler; one at a time, seperate cells."
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." The man saluted, and before he could go, Klink said,
"Have you searched them?"
"Ja, Herr Oberst."
"Take them away." Klink didn't even look at the Patrol, instead turning to Hogan.
"I'll talk to 'em, Kommandant, but at this point, they think I'm a traitor." The American shrugged.
"Thank you, Hogan." Klink's fingers tightened around his riding crop, and Hogan saluted before leaving. Dietrich couldn't help but notice that this salute had been executed perfectly.
"Hauptmann." The Kommandant looked at him, and Dietrich responded,
"Kommandant?"
"How often do they get that far?" Klink looked away as he rephrased the question. "How often do they go that far?"
"As often as possible, herr."
"I-" Klink obviously wasn't sure what to say, but finally forged ahead anyway. "I'll show you to your quarters."
"Quarters?" Dietrich was confused, as he still had a war to go and fight.
"Ja. I may need your advice concerning these prisoners for a while."
"Of course." Dietrich understood how he felt.
He'd help.
K. So you liked it? You didn't like it? You hated it? Lemme know what'cha think, since reviews warm my heart. (except for the one word long ones. Don't just say it was nice. Tell me WHAT was nice, you get me?)
Anyway, thanks for reading. Readers are my favorite. (I am one.)