No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended. Copyright text and original characters belongs to L J Groundwater.

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

"I'm sure you can appreciate the urgency of this situation, Hogan."

"Yes, sir." Hogan stood in the office of General Alfred Butler in the wee hours of the morning, taking in the warmth of the room and starting to feel fatigue seeping into his bones. It had been a long, uncomfortable flight to London in the middle of the night, and at the moment there was no rest on the horizon. "The Germans were quite clear about what they're intending to do."

The General turned away from Hogan and toward his well-stocked bar. "So you said when you reported," Butler said. He picked up a glass and a carafe of a golden brown liquid. "Drink?"

"No, thank you, sir."

"Well, I could use one," Butler said. He poured himself a large brandy, then took only a small sip and put the glass down. He turned to face the young officer whose career he had followed with great interest and even a bit of personal pride. Butler had been one of the first to recognize Hogan's potential when the Colonel—then a Major—had reached England before the United States had become officially involved in the war in Europe. Now, so much later, Hogan had turned into a fine leader of men, head of one of the most successful intelligence and espionage units deep within Nazi Germany, operating, of all places, out of a Prisoner of War camp. Butler himself had suggested the command position to Hogan after the Colonel was shot down two years ago, and despite it being the General's idea, Hogan's acceptance of the proposition had still come as a surprise. But it had increased his already-strong faith in the younger man, and so far, Butler realized now, Hogan had never disappointed him.

"Your message came as quite a shock, Colonel Hogan," Butler said now, as Hogan watched him intently. "We've known, of course, that the Germans have been working on atomic weaponry for some time. But we didn't know how far they had gotten, or where that work was being done. Now, we are better informed."

The gravity of the situation made Hogan's voice low and restrained. And an internal sense of shame helped keep it that way. "I'm afraid I didn't get as much useful information as High Command would have liked, sir."

Butler shook his head dismissively. "The Germans made sure that you couldn't," the General declared. "That you found out as much as you did was a minor miracle of its own." His eyes fixed on Hogan's still-bandaged wrists. "I trust you've recovered from whatever they did to you," he said, for just a moment seeing a real tiredness etched in the younger man's face. The four rows of ribbon bars Hogan wore on his dress jacket had been hard-earned, Butler realized for not the first time. Every one of them. And there'll likely be at least another row of them when you come home for good.

"Yes, sir," Hogan replied, shrugging in his jacket to make his sleeves hide the gauze. "But unfortunately, all I could find out was a possible range of locations for the laboratory. And even that isn't set in stone, since I wasn't able to see our route to the facility. I've only got my knowledge of the building itself, and impressions of the surrounding area."

"Tell me again about the Germans' current capability."

"It's uncertain, sir. They seem to be at odds about just how far they can go in a relatively short period of time."

"But they're making plans."

"Yes, sir. They want to aim atomic bombs at both England and at the United States."

"And we can't let that happen." Butler turned and walked behind his desk, motioning for Hogan to sit in the chair in front of it. "It's Götterdämmerung, Hogan. Twilight of the gods. They've been on about it for years. But until now, no confirmation of any real progress. You've seen the laboratories yourself?"

"Yes, sir. I saw several research labs, and the living quarters for the scientists. I've given all the information to the debriefing team."

"And you haven't seen the exact location, but you have seen the area," Butler confirmed.

Hogan rubbed his eyes slowly, trying to pull all the images into his mind. "Yes, sir. Hills. Water. A wide path through the trees nearby, like they were cleared. But I'm making presumptions, sir; I was unconscious for the whole journey. I don't know if they made any stops, or obeyed the speed limits. If they deviated from standard procedure, my guess will be wrong."

"But at the moment, your guess is all we have to go on." Butler nodded. "I'm afraid there's no rest for you tonight, Colonel. We have several aerial photographs of the area of Germany that we believe you might have been taken to. We need you to study them and see if you can recognize where you were. After that, we'll be going in."

Hogan nodded. "I understand, sir."

"Good man." Butler allowed a small smile to cross his lips. "I'll make sure someone brings you a decent meal while you're looking them over. You… seem to have lost a bit of weight since you've been at Stalag 13."

"My uniforms were getting a little snug anyway, sir," Hogan said.

"Nevertheless, you need to stay strong and alert now, and we'll see that you do. When do you have to be back at camp?"

"The Kommandant expects to see me some time after morning roll call, sir."

Butler shook his head. "After roll call." He smiled. "Hogan, you could sell sand to the Arabs. I'm glad you're on our side."

"Me, too, sir."

"Now, come on—there's a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time to do it. We don't want your Kommandant to think you're an ungrateful guest."

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Hogan straightened up from his hunched position over the table and stretched stiffly. "We don't have anything more close up, right?" he asked, rubbing his eyes to relieve the stinging in them for the third time in the last twenty minutes. He glanced at the clock on the wall: one forty-seven. He'd been at it for more than an hour now and all the images were starting to run together.

"No, sir, I'm afraid we don't," Captain Birks replied. The man who had been assigned as Hogan's aide while he was in London smiled at him apologetically. "There's only so close those planes can get, you know, sir."

"I know, I know," Hogan admitted with a weary smile.

"Any luck, Colonel?" the Captain asked.

"Possibly," Hogan said, rubbing his neck and moving his head to ease muscles sore from extended, unmoving concentration poring over photographs. "I just wish I had more time… or psychic powers." He sighed and picked up a picture he had studied and discarded several times. "Where's this?"

Birks looked closely at the photo in Hogan's hand. "I believe that's just outside Bonn, sir."

"Bonn." Hogan took another look at the photo and turned to the Captain. "I need to talk to General Butler," he said. "And then I need to get moving. It's almost three o'clock in Germany, and they'll be holding up breakfast till I get there." He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand.

"Another cup of tea, sir?" Birks offered.

Hogan shook his head. "No, thanks. Didn't finish the first one. Hot water with a bit of sugar—I'm afraid that's not for me. I'd never make it as an Englishman."

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

"So this is it, Hogan." Butler held the photograph up again.

Hogan let his eyes flick back up to the image. "I think so, sir."

"But you have your doubts."

"Like I said, sir, I was unconscious, and when I was first taken out of the car, I was too groggy to really take it all in. I'd feel better about it if I could see it for myself, sir."

"Can you identify the building in this photo?"

Hogan shook his head. "Not for certain, sir." He came forward as Butler moved the picture under a lamp. "But this seems like the general area." He pointed to the photo. "Fenced in—no other buildings in the immediate area. A lot of trees, a clearing—we were surrounded, but I could hear something else. We were near something, a large body of water, not just a trickle." He shook his head again, then ran his finger along the picture. "Water—in this direction, if the entrance to the lab was on this side. And hills…" Hogan looked closely again, then tapped a section of the image. "…here. I can see a horizon in my head, sir, and I think I'm right, but I'm afraid from these pictures I just can't guarantee it."

Butler seemed to pick up on Hogan's hesitancy. "And you're reluctant to hit the wrong target." Hogan remained silent but lowered his eyes. "But you'd be confident if you saw the area yourself?"

Hogan shrugged. "If I had a feel for the place, sir. I'm sure I would know when I saw it." When I finally figured out what they were up to, it was burned in my memory forever.

Butler stood up straight and snapped off the desk lamp. "I'd like to give you a chance to do that, Hogan. You may not feel totally certain, but this is the closest we're going to get. And we can't take a chance that we're leaving this laboratory operating for even one day longer than necessary." Butler looked the young man square in the eye. "We want you to lead the bombing mission, Colonel."

Hogan furrowed his brow questioningly. "General?"

"We could go in, Hogan, and simply bomb all Hell out of this target. But without you there to confirm it, we may never know if we succeeded at stopping the Germans' advances in nuclear warfare. If you go, at least we'll have a better chance of knowing whether we did that or not." He paused. "And if we didn't, you'll have more work to do back at Stalag 13."

Hogan nodded but said nothing.

"There will be a secondary target, of course—if you feel we have picked the wrong location for the laboratory, then we won't waste the trip. But Hogan, I won't kid you: putting you back in the sky was not a decision that was made lightly. The work you do at Stalag 13 is vital, and you are a valued and highly respected man here in London—and in Washington."

"Thank you, sir."

"But this project is too big to let Jerry get away with. And you are our best chance of success."

"I understand, sir."

"We'll work out the details and get you back here as quickly as possible." Butler paused as he again searched the young officer's face. "Are you up to it, Hogan?"

"You can count on me, sir." Hogan thought for a second, then asked quietly, "What about my men, sir?"

"Your men?"

"At Stalag 13. If I'm shot down, they're going to need someone to look after them and keep the operation going."

Butler smiled almost regretfully. "Try not to think like that, Hogan. The mission will go as planned. But rest assured: if they suddenly find themselves without a Papa Bear, we'll get them a stepfather."

Hogan nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Butler smiled more broadly, proud of the younger man and glad that this crucial meeting had been at least moderately successful. "And now, we'd better get you back to your cottage in Germany," he said. "We're sending you back with a bundle of good food, warm clothes… and a pillow. You look like you're going to fall asleep on your feet. Rest on the way back, son, if you can. And be ready for action when you return."