Prisoners of Honor
by 80sarcades
AU fiction. Hogan and his team is captured; the operation is blown.
From the last chapter:
…sand. Regular, ordinary, sand.
"Check your tanks," Hogan called in a quiet whisper to his men. Even before they said anything, Hogan knew the truth.
Someone had duped them.
Chapter 2: Caught
"Grab the charges. We're leaving," Hogan ordered in a calm voice. Seconds later, the pack was full of explosives again as they made their way towards the exit. Even as they silently filed out the front door, a red flare popped up into the black sky. Seconds later, the rumble of a generator tore through the air before being joined by another.
The lights that came next blinded Hogan. Searchlights!
Even without his sight, Hogan could still pull his .45 out by touch. Dimly, he could almost feel, rather than see, puffs of dust kick up off the ground even as the sound of the light machine gun that created it roared in his ears. A loud German voice then screamed repeatedly at him to surrender. More shots - these ones hitting the walls of the building above and behind him - discouraged any retreat back into the building. By now, the hard voice was beginning to sink in as he recognized it as Hochstetter's. He uttered a silent curse.
Bastard!
More gunfire from automatic weapons disoriented Hogan even as he raised his gun arm towards the brightest source of light. Just then, a hard tug on his collar yanked him backward and into delicious darkness. The after image of the bright lights still burned into his retinas before a familiar face slowly swam into focus.
"We're in a bad fix, Colonel," Newkirk dryly announced.
"Tell me about it," Hogan groused, then quickly looked at his men. Fortunately, none of them were hurt. The sound of slugs impacting with wood above their heads made all of them duck towards the ground. It was quickly followed by additional shouted demands that echoed through the closed doorway. For the moment, he chose to ignore them; he looked over at Sergeant Kinchloe. "Any other way out?" he asked.
"There's a door at the back," Kinch offered, "but the Krauts have it covered. At least two companies, possibly more, with spotlights. No other exits. "
"Damn," Hogan exclaimed. A part of him ran through the tactical options, none of them good. Sidearms against automatic weapons? No chance. Can't use the explosives as grenades. We can't even shoot at the lights themselves; they'd zero in on us before we could shoot them out. Just then, Hogan knew what he had to do. He looked at his second in command.
"Kinch," he ordered, hoping that his voice sounded calmer than he felt. "Take the others and wait by the back door. Carter, you still have that satchel?"
Carter silently handed the bag over to Hogan even as more gunfire erupted from outside. Sooner or later, the Germans would get tired of waiting and assault the building; he had to act now. He reached inside the sack with his right hand…
"We can't let you do it, Colonel," LeBeau said, putting his own hand on the Senior POW's arm; a chorus of other voices joined his. All of them, even Carter, knew what Hogan was planning.
"It's your only chance, guys," Hogan said, shaking his head. "Get to the back door and get the hell out of here. You know what to do after that."
None of the other men moved.
"That's an order," he added.
Still, the men failed to comply. The Colonel was about to say something further when Kinch spoke up in his deep voice. "Even if you set those charges off, the guys at the back door will cut us down before we get to the fence," he said in a reasonable tone. "Good plan, Colonel, but we can't let you do it."
"You can court-martial me too, Colonel," Carter said, his voice serious. "I'm not leaving."
"Nor am I, mon Colonel," LeBeau's normally happy French voice had turned husky with emotion; his face was a mixture of rage and sorrow.
Unlike his friend, Newkirk's expression was solemn; only his grim eyes betrayed the truth. "The game's up, Colonel," he said flatly. "It's been a good run." He then slowly rose and stood at attention before he saluted his commander; the other men followed his lead even as each man's eyes watered with emotion.
Hogan felt the tears in his eyes threatening to give way even as he stood up to return the gesture. There was only one final act to perform; he reached into the satchel and pulled out one of the explosive charges.
"If we're going out, let's go with a bang," he said, a dry smile appearing on his lips. Similar grins appeared on his men's faces as Hogan passed out the charges to waiting hands.
A white flag - actually, a handkerchief tied to a metal rod - was pushed outside the front door and waved to the Germans outside. As silence descended , Colonel Hogan carefully opened the door a bit wider and called "We're coming out." The words, though simple, were bitter as poison to his lips.
A moment later, Hochstetter responded, his rough voice amplified through an electric speaker. "THROW YOUR WEAPONS OUT THE DOOR FIRST, THEN COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEADS!" he ordered.
Colonel Hogan decocked his pistol and tossed it out the door and onto the ground. Within a minute, the other weapons from his men joined the first. Slowly, Hogan then opened the door and led his men out into the lights. As soon as all five men were visible, Hochstetter ordered them to their knees. One of the searchlights was switched off as shadows walked towards them; even then, the light was still blinding. The sound of motors echoed to them, glowing closer by the minute. Clearly, elements of the convoy were returning with reinforcements.
SS troops roughly searched the men for any further weapons before pushing them forward to the ground and handcuffing them. The second light was turned off, to be replaced by smaller spotlights. Blinking his eyes to clear the aftereffects, Hogan heard rather than saw a pair of polished boots appear by his head. Without a doubt, he knew that it was Hochstetter coming to gloat.
"It looks like your luck has run out, hasn't it Colonel?" the Gestapo Major taunted. "I have waited a long time for this day."
Hogan wisely chose not to say anything; he had no desire to cause his men any further pain. The German seemed disappointed, though his voice was jubilant.
"No witty comeback, Hogan, hah?" Hochstetter said, snorting in amusement. "I'm sure you will have one where you are going. You will soon learn what happens to the enemies of the Third Reich."
Despite himself, Hogan shivered as the German turned to his troops. "Get them to the truck," he ordered.
More unkind hands grabbed each of the prone Allied men and jerked them up and forward before dumping them in the bed of a waiting truck. Other guards jumped in and pulled the back gate shut before the heavy vehicle roared to life and out of the facility. With his job done, Hochstetter turned to his next mission. He detailed Captain Dorfman to stay at the facility and search for further sabotage evidence. After doing that, he then detached fifteen of the SS troops and ordered them to load up into one of the trucks. As soon as they were done, the Major climbed into his staff car and roared off into the night with the truck close behind.
Five minutes after their departure the remainder of the troops, along with the German EOD team that had accompanied them, watched helplessly from the sidelines as the building was completely demolished by Carter's explosives.
In advance, Major Hochstetter had arranged for the prisoners to be taken to Düsseldorf and to the Gestapo prison there. After so many failed encounters with Hogan he didn't want to take the chance that the Underground would rescue the Prisoners of War.
With that task in progress, the head of the Hammelburg Gestapo took a contingent of troops with him to Stalag 13.
Next: Chapter 3: Hochstetter's Glory