…
All of the men worked quickly to create a scene that would hopefully convince Sharpf that a beam had fallen and knocked him out.
Just as they finished, there was a moan from the corner.
"Quick!" Hogan whispered, pushing Kinch so that he moved out of sight.
…
Kinch sighed inwardly as he made his way to Newkirk's sewing room. He chose that space because he knew that the other fellas might have to say certain things to convince Sharpf to give them his information. In the sewing room he was far enough away that he could not hear them talking, but close enough that if they yelled for him he would hear it. So he settled down to wait in a pile of unused cloth with an old issue of Stars and Stripes.
…
Hogan moved swiftly to place himself next to Sharps as he came to.
"How are you feeling, Sharpf?" Hogan asked, pulling a concerned face.
Sharpf looked around, disoriented, as he moved to hold his head.
"What happened?" he asked. Then he looked at Hogan, "Who are you?"
"I'm Papa Bear," Hogan said, helping Sharpf to sit up.
"It's quite a nasty bump you've got there," Newkirk said, hiding his smile behind his coffee cup.
"What happened?" Sharpf repeated, showing a bit of frustration.
"One of the beams that keep the tunnel from collapsing broke," Hogan said.
"And when it fell, it knocked you out," LeBeau continued.
"See, look," Carter said, unintentionally using his bandaged hand to point out the large chunks of splintered wood.
"What happened to your hand, Carter?" Sharpf asked suspiciously, pointing at the injured appendage.
Hogan nearly smacked his head against the wall, sure that Sharpf had connected the dots and that the plan was ruined.
"Well, gee," Carter said, "I was standing right next to you. Ya don't really think something like that could have happened without anyone else getting hurt, do ya?"
Hogan, Newkirk, and LeBeau stared at Carter for a moment, shocked at his quick thinking.
Then Sharpf laughed, "You're right. I guess working in the underground has made me a little overly suspicious."
Carter grinned proudly.
"What about…" Sharpf turned serious again as he thought. "What about the black man?"
"Black man?" LeBeau asked, acting confused.
"The black man on the radio," he said, gesturing to the table full of electronics.
"Kinch is our radio man," Hogan said, sounding a bit confused himself. "He's been gone on a reconnaissance mission for the last fourteen hours."
"We only got back five hours ago," Newkirk said, faking a worried look.
"But there was a black man sitting right there when we arrived!" Sharpf yelled, frustrated. "He had a moustache! And-and-and a green hat!"
…
In the sewing room, Kinch heard the yelling and raised an eyebrow. Those guys were really riling Sharpf up. He smiled.
…
Hogan looked at Sharpf worriedly, "That beam must have hit you harder than we thought." He turned Sharp's head from side to side as if he were examining it.
"I'm not crazy!" Sharpf yelled.
"I don't think you're crazy," Hogan said, reassuringly. "I just think you may have had some sort of delusion while you were unconscious."
"Delusion?" Sharpf asked himself, considering the idea. He nodded, and then he winced from the action.
"Then you don't have any of those beasts in your operation?" Sharpf questioned.
Newkirk clenched his teeth effectively crushing the end of his cigarette. LeBeau muttered something in French. Carter pressed his hands together in his pockets until he winced and remembered his broken hand.
"In this operation? Of course not," Hogan scoffed, inwardly wishing he had a bar of soap to wash out his own mouth, or to throw at Sharpf's head.
Sharpf thought for a moment.
"Alright," he said. "Now I will give you my information."
Hogan smiled, "Wonderful. Newkirk, take down everything he says."
"Yessir," the Englander said, viciously squishing his cigarette out on the table.
"Go ahead," Hogan said, motioning for Sharpf to begin.
"Well…"
…
Kinch looked at his watch. Colonel Hogan had told him to be ready at exactly nine hundred hours. He had just enough time to finish his article.
…
"Are you sure that's everything?" Hogan asked, making sure Sharpf hadn't forgotten something.
"I am absolutely sure," Sharpf confirmed.
"Good," Hogan nodded. Then he turned to look down one of the branch tunnels. "Kinch!"
Kinch came around the corner, much to Sharpf's surprise. "Yeah Colonel?"
"We've got all the information out of this creep. Go ahead and start sending it to London," Hogan said, grinning at Sharpf's expression.
"Bu-bu-but he's-" Sharpf sputtered.
"Our radio man," Hogan finished.
"I can't believe- I must go," Sharpf said. He stood up and swayed for a moment.
"I'm not sure that we can let you do that," Newkirk said, moving to block the entrance of the emergency tunnel.
"What!?!" Sharpf shouted, incredulously.
"He's right," Hogan said. "With your reaction towards Kinch how do we know that you won't go running to the Krauts?"
Sharpf froze, caught.
"Men," Hogan said.
The next thing Sharpf knew, he was tied up and back on the lumpy mattress in the corner with three pistol barrels staring him in the face.
"Kinch, when you're done transmitting to London, let the underground know that Sharpf is a traitor and that they need to come and get him before one of us gets to him first," Hogan said.
"Right sir," Kinch said, acknowledging the order.
"I will not stand for this!" Sharpf shouted.
"Oh shut up," Newkirk said before using the butt of his gun to knock Sharpf unconscious.
…
Three underground agents showed up just after the men finished lunch.
"We're here for the traitor," the middle man said.
Sharpf opened his mouth to reply.
"One word outta you and I'll put you to sleep again," Newkirk said, holding his gun threateningly.
Sharpf snapped his mouth shut.
"Much better," Newkirk grinned.
"What happened?" the man on the left asked, looking at Newkirk curiously.
"This creep had the nerve to insult one of our men because of his race," Hogan said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Sharpf.
"Then Andrew here decked him," Newkirk grinned, putting his arm around Carter's shoulders.
"He did what!?!" Sharpf yelled.
"I warned you," Newkirk said, turning his gun in his hand.
"May I?" LeBeau asked politely.
"Of course, Louis," Newkirk said and moved out of the way.
There was a dull thud and Sharpf slumped forward, unconscious.
"I see you've given him the royal treatment," the woman in the group said, amused.
"Of course, me lady," Newkirk said.
"And if he ever comes back we'll treat him just the same," Hogan said, putting his arm around Carter's shoulders. "Right Carter?" He grinned.
Carter grinned back, "You bet, boy! Uh, sir."
…
…
…
The End
=x=(x)=x=
It's an airplane!