No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.
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Hogan's head remained on his chest for most of the remainder of the tour. He heard about the care that the Nazi regime gave to the scientists, the living arrangements at the laboratory, and, more importantly, the strides that the Germans had made up to now in the area of nuclear fission. To Hogan, it sounded like there was a bit of dissension in the ranks over whether nuclear capability was the way to go. But whenever he raised his head, giving away his real interest, Burkhalter would gloss over the apparent hostilities, and so Hogan stayed with his head bowed as long as possible.
Eventually, when the General was sure that Hogan had had more than his fill of humiliation, he turned to the American. "So now, Hogan, do you think you understand enough about what we are doing to make it clear to the Allies that they have no way of winning this war?"
Hogan nodded humbly. "Please take me back to camp," he said in a whisper.
"I think that is a fine idea, Colonel," Burkhalter said. He turned to Rupp. "Thank you, Herr Rupp, for your excellent guided tour. You have made a very important contribution to the war effort."
You can say that again, Hogan thought determinedly.
The group was led outside and again Hogan blinked in the light. This time, though, he raised his head and for once looked around him, studying everything, looking intently at the building, listening to the sounds of the environment that surrounded him, scanning trees, landscapes, the skyline, the horizon.
Suddenly the guard grabbed Hogan's handcuffs roughly. Hogan grunted uncomfortably, and though he knew it was futile, he couldn't help resisting as a cloth soaked in chloroform was again pushed into his face, and dizziness and darkness dropped him into someone's waiting arms.
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"He's back!"
Carter burst into Barracks Two well after evening mess and blurted out his announcement to its occupants. Kinch, Le Beau and Newkirk jumped up at his words and followed him back outside to look across the compound.
The staff car had come to a halt near Klink's office, and Burkhalter stepped out and was now speaking to the Kommandant. The men saw a guard hauling Hogan out of the back seat and were immediately both worried and irate. Even in the dim light, their commanding officer was clearly not well; as the blindfold and handcuffs were removed, Hogan swayed, not able to stand on his own, and he appeared disheveled and disoriented. Klink called for Schultz, who then relieved the General's guard of the American, and supported a tottering Colonel Hogan back toward the barracks.
Hogan's men took over as the Sergeant reached the door. "We've got him now, Schultz," Kinch said, slinging one of Hogan's arms over his shoulders and watching as Carter took the other. Schultz released his burden and followed as the men brought Hogan into his room and helped him lie on the lower bunk.
Hogan was struggling to sit up, almost drunken in his movements, but he was uncoordinated and almost incoherent, and his men had no trouble keeping him down as they removed his cap and jacket. "Louis, go get Sergeant Wilson," Kinch said, and without worrying about whether it would be allowed or not, the Frenchman pushed past Schultz and obeyed. "What'd they do to him, Schultz?"
"I do not know, Kinchloe. Honest!"
Kinch grabbed a blanket from the upper bunk and tried to spread it over the Colonel, but Hogan was still trying to get up and resisted it. "'m all right," he mumbled softly. "Just need a few minutes of… fresh air." A small groan as he glanced up toward the guard and then away. "And no Krauts."
Newkirk immediately confronted Schultz. "You heard 'im, Schultz. No Germans allowed. I'm afraid you're going to have to go."
"B-B-But the Kommandant, he wants me to find out—"
"You can find out later, Schultz. Now scram," Newkirk said almost harshly, and with Carter's help he finally shoved the large Sergeant out of the room and shut the door. "What happened, gov'nor? What did they do to you?" the Englishman asked gently now. Hogan had managed to sit up and swing his feet onto the floor and was now holding his head in his hand, his elbow braced on his knee for strength he did not feel. Newkirk knelt beside the Colonel as Carter wrapped the blanket around Hogan's shoulders. "Did they torture you?"
"They took me to a laboratory," Hogan answered, rubbing his temple soothingly but not opening his eyes. Another moan. "They wanted to—" He cut off as he felt his stomach flip, and he folded in half and put his hand over his mouth to stop anything unfortunate from happening. Hogan groaned as he felt himself break out in a cold sweat, and he stayed bent double for a minute, then resumed massaging his temples.
Hogan's men could only look at each other, concerned, as they registered the Colonel's words and his condition. Soon Le Beau returned with Joe Wilson, and Newkirk and Carter moved out of the way so the camp medic could examine the officer. "Colonel? It's Joe," he said softly. Hogan nodded very slightly but did not open his eyes. "What's happening?"
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Hogan gasped. He covered his eyes and breathed shallowly through his mouth.
"Did they inject you with anything, Colonel?" Wilson asked. "Make you swallow anything?"
Hogan couldn't shake his head. "I don't think so," he managed. "Just shoved… chloroform in my face half the day. Be all right… in a minute."
Wilson nodded. "Chloroform. That explains the nausea. Are you dizzy? Have a headache?" Hogan groaned. "I take it that's a yes." He glanced at Hogan's men, who were huddled by his desk, watching intently. "He's right, fellas. He'll be fine. His confusion and other symptoms can be attributed to the chloroform. If he was only under for a little while, the immediate symptoms should go away soon. Still," he said, turning back to the Colonel, "I'll get you some aspirin for the headache, and you need to get some rest. Now, Le Beau says you were handcuffed; how are your wrists?"
"Sore," Hogan whispered, not daring to tempt his stomach or his head right now.
Wilson drew down Hogan's arms as the Colonel slowly brought himself back to life. "They're red raw, Colonel," the Sergeant said. "Let me wrap them, eh?" Wilson moved to his bag and took out a bottle of aspirin, tipping out two pills and accepting the glass of water that Carter had grabbed from the other room. He held out the drink and the pills to Hogan. "Come on," he urged gently; "take these."
Hogan looked up and took the offering, swallowing painfully as his head throbbed at the movement. "Thanks," he said weakly.
Wilson started on Hogan's right wrist, unused to having an audience for his work. But Hogan had started talking again; it was clear he wasn't planning to rest yet, and Wilson had a hard time kicking the Colonel's men out at the best of times. "We've got trouble. Big trouble," Hogan said softly. "Burkhalter brought me to a laboratory where the Krauts are developing the atomic bomb."
"Holy cow!" Carter exclaimed as the others reacted. Hogan winced at the sound. "Sorry," Carter added more softly. "What'd he do that for, Colonel?"
"To ruin my day," Hogan replied. "He wants me to record a broadcast for the Allies, to tell them how useless resistance is in the face of such awesome power." Hogan flinched as Wilson worked. "Part of his plan worked: he spoiled my day. But he sure won't get me to broadcast anything." Hogan suddenly blinked himself into alertness. "What time is it?" he asked.
Newkirk frowned. "Just after half-seven. Why?"
"What time did I leave here with Burkhalter?"
Kinch shrugged. "Eight-thirty this morning."
"Do you know for sure? Exactly?"
Kinch considered, frowning as he recalled the events of the morning. "Yes, sir, I'm sure," he said finally.
Hogan looked at the watch on his left wrist, ignoring the swelling and violent red marks left from being handcuffed too tightly all day. "Hmm," he mused. "Two hours and thirty-nine minutes."
Le Beau furrowed his brow. "What is that, Colonel?"
"Burkhalter drugged me with chloroform to make sure I was unconscious for the trip so I didn't know where I was going or how I got there. But when we got to the building I purposely smashed my wrist against the doorframe—I was hoping it would be hard enough to break my watch, since I couldn't see it. And it was. So if I left at exactly eight-thirty, we traveled for just under two hours and thirty-nine minutes—if we didn't make any stops along the way."
Wilson finished dressing Hogan's right wrist and took hold of his left arm. "Well that explains the terrible bruising on this arm," he said, shaking his head. "Don't you ever think about me when you're out?" he chastised.
"Wish I could, Joe," Hogan replied, wincing again as the medic removed the watch and started handling his sore forearm. "But I had to think of some way to figure out what was going on. I wasn't thinking too clearly when I got yanked out of Burkhalter's staff car, and I thought at least a sense of time…" His voice trailed off.
Wilson had also seen Hogan taken out of camp that morning and understood his feelings of helplessness. "Yeah," the medic said softly now. "At least you might have some idea of where that lab is. The problem is, what can you do about it?"
"Nothing," Hogan sighed. His nausea was starting to disappear now, and the dizziness was subsiding. All that was left was the headache and a profound tiredness. But there was still work to do. "Kinch, can you get on the horn to London? I'm going to have to report all this and see if there isn't anything we can do to—"
"Now hold it right there, Colonel," Wilson interrupted. Kinch, who had come forward at Hogan's statement, stopped. "You can report everything in the morning. You're still groggy and a bit disoriented, and I don't want you climbing up and down ladders until you've had a long rest. The war won't go away overnight."
Hogan sighed and gave in easily, lying down and closing his eyes. "If only it would, Joe," he whispered. "If… only it would."
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"I let Burkhalter think he'd totally broken my spirit while they paraded me around the lab," Hogan was saying the next morning after roll call. "I found that they talked a lot more when they thought they were torturing me with the information than they did when I was showing them I was interested."
"Friendly chaps, those Krauts," Newkirk observed. "Always willing to tell you exactly what you don't want to know."
"Precisely," Hogan said, nodding. He paused for a moment before continuing. The dizziness and nausea from inhaling the chloroform had disappeared, but his headache remained and his wrists still throbbed. Still, he was grateful that he'd had the presence of mind to try and make some sense of what was happening yesterday, and now, he had to try to find a way to use the information he had gathered to the Allies' advantage. "Kinch, what have we got for maps of the area?"
The Sergeant reached in behind a bulletin board in the common room that also served as a front for a small compartment. He fished through two or three folded maps before bringing one out and handing it to the Colonel. Hogan nodded and spread the map on the table, then accepted an offeredcompass from Carter and started calculating. "If Burkhalter didn't make any stops on our little joy ride, and he stuck to the speed limits allowed by military vehicles, then in two hours and thirty-nine minutes, we could have gone a maximum of about sixty-seven miles."
Hogan's men watched as their commanding officer measured the possible distance on the map's scale with the compass, then put the pointed end of the instrument on top of Stalag 13, and slowly drew a circle with the pencil end. Then he put down the compass with a heavy sigh, and pored over the map. "Now let's see," he said, studying the drawing before him, "if Burkhalter did all the right things—and we know in our hearts, of course, that all good little Krauts obey the speed limits—then we couldn't have been outside this circle."
Hogan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember the sounds and sights of the day before. "Water," he said finally, opening his eyes again. "There was water nearby." He looked at the map and ran his finger inside the circle. "Buschdorf… Bonn… Wachtberg… Arzdorf…" Hogan sighed and straightened. "Too many possibilities. Look at all the towns along the Rhine…." He shook his head. "It could be any one of them. Looks like Burkhalter succeeded in one thing—he couldn't have made me feel more useless if he'd tried."
Hogan's men looked at each other, dismayed. In their own way they knew exactly how their commanding officer felt. Knowing of a danger to the Allies was nothing new—the tightening in their guts as they tried to turn a strong disadvantage to their favor was now almost a welcome thing—but knowing, and being powerless to do anything about it, was a different feeling altogether… and one that none of them appreciated. And Hogan, having seen it all first-hand, would be feeling the distress most of all.
The door to the barracks swung open and Schultz barreled in uninvited, leaving the men to protest the blast of cold air and the intrusion. Carter quickly shoved the map inside his jacket. "Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant wants to see you in his office."
"Now?" Hogan asked, glancing out of habit to where his watch should be, then pursing his lips. He'd have to make sure that got fixed, and quick. At the very least before the next meeting outside the wire.
"Actually, the Kommandant wants to know when you would have an appointment available in your diary. He knows how busy you are at this time of the war," Schultz replied with a touch of smugness.
"Great, a Kraut comedian," Hogan said, shaking his head. "All right, Schultz. Tell him I'll be there in a few minutes."
Schultz gave a slight shake of his head and a smile that indicated a temporary feeling of superiority. "Not in a few minutes, Colonel Hogan. He wants to see you now. General Burkhalter is here, and the Kommandant does not want him kept waiting."
Hogan shivered involuntarily. The movement wasn't lost on his men. "Okay, Schultz. Just let me finish my coffee and I'll be right there."
Schultz frowned. "But you aren't drinking coffee."
Hogan's foot slipped off the bench and he straightened, irritable. "Then I'll get some. Look, I'm talking to my men; just gimme a minute, okay?"
"Fine." Hogan stared hard at the Sergeant when he didn't move. The guard looked at Hogan, then at each of the others, who were staring just as intently at him. "I will wait for you… outside." And he was gone.
"Kinch, get in touch with the Underground. See if they can tell you anything about any research labs within a sixty-seven mile radius of the camp. See if there's been anything more unusual than normal going on, see if there's anything the Krauts have been guarding extra heavily that they can't seem to figure out."
"Right, Colonel."
"Do you think they'll find anything, Colonel?" asked Carter.
Hogan shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. If the laboratory is as much of a secret as Burkhalter was boasting yesterday, the Underground probably hasn't spotted it as anything special. But it's worth a shot, especially since whatever we find—or don't—I have to report to London."
"Do you want me to get London on the line, too, Colonel?" Kinch asked quietly.
Hogan sighed. Reluctantly accepting the almost complete lack of practical information he'd gathered yesterday, he was suddenly grateful that Wilson had stopped him from contacting Allied Headquarters last night. He zipped up his jacket and started pulling up the collar. "Let's hear from the Underground first," he answered. "Maybe they'll have something to report." Though I doubt it, he didn't add aloud. "After that we'll talk to Headquarters. Just be ready to catch my eagles when they get pushed off their perch; London's not likely to be very happy with what I have to say."
