Thank you to all of you who have reviewed my stories; I'm flattered. Please keep them coming! I haven't had as much time to polish this as I have the others, but I thought I needed to go ahead and post. Hopefully I'll be able to edit it later, but for now please accept my apologies, overlook the slightly rough exterior and enjoy the story. :)
To run where the brave dare not go…
Thud, thud, thud, scrape, thud, thud thud, scrape, thud, thud, thud…
His hands behind his back, his brow creased, his head down, Hogan tried to figure out what he was going to do. Klink had been rather up-tight since their last escapade; it wouldn't be easy to get out of camp, much less to get back in. Still wondering what he was going to do, he glanced up distractedly as someone rapped on the door.
"What?"
"It's me, Colonel," came Carter's hesitant voice. "I've got your dinner."
"Come on in."
There was an awkward fumbling at the door, and then a thunk, a surprised cry and a burst of exasperated French from the other side. He could make out some of Newkirk's scolding.
"Andrew, you can't just let go of the tray with one hand when you open a door, especially when it's Lebeau's acid brew you're carryin'."
"Well, what did you want me to do with it? I did the best I could to balance it against the door. It's not like I could open the door with just my fingers, you know."
A half-smile twitched at Hogan's lips as he pictured the expression accompanying Newkirk's long-suffering sigh. A second later the door opened, with Newkirk bowing and sweeping his hand forward with a flourish. A sheepish Carter followed soon after, and Hogan decided not to mention the strongly-smelling wet stain across his pants.
Newkirk had no such qualms. "You smell like a bleedin' German cabbage that's been in the oven too long. You're lucky that stuff of Lebeau's didn't burn a hole straight through your trousers."
"Oh, no. I don't think its Ph is near low enough for that. See, in order to be qualified as a really hazardous acid…" Carter, helped by Hogan's half-concealed smile, suddenly realized what Newkirk had said. He turned suddenly and started to rush the grinning Cockney, remembering too late about the tray, and only Hogan's quick recovery saved his soup from ornamenting Newkirk's RAF uniform.
Newkirk's curt comment was interrupted as the coffeepot crackled. Hogan and Newkirk immediately turned and listened with rapt attention. Carter left and returned a moment later with Kinch and Lebeau. No one said a word as a familiar voice sputtered over the speaker.
"Klink, my men will be arriving at your camp within the hour."
"Yes, Major Hochstetter. Of course you know the Gestapo is always welcome at Stalag 13. Might I ask why they're coming here?"
"That's Gestapo business, Klink."
"Of course sir, that's Gestapo business, but…" The men rolled their eyes at the patronizing tone.
"Bah! Shut up and listen, Klink. They are here to pick up Colonel Hogan. They will have signed orders from General Burkhalter to bring him in for questioning concerning the bridge that was blown up last week. You will release him to them at once, Klink. Is that understood?"
"Of course, Major Hochstetter, but you realize that you cannot possibly…"
"The Gestapo can do what they want Klink. I suggest you remember that."
He hung up. Hogan's men traded sober glances at each other from around the table.
Kinch was the first to speak. "What now, Colonel?"
Hogan sighed and massaged his forehead, trying to tone down the squadron doing exercises on his skull. "Maybe we can use Hochstetter to get out of camp."
There was a round of protests, dominated by Newkirk's "You're barmy!" and a short moment of silence before he added a belated "sir."
"Listen," Hogan began, wondering why they couldn't trust him just this once. Did he have to explain everything? "I'll let Hochstetter's men take me out of camp…" He threw his arm up to ward off another round of protests. "You all and Emil will set up an ambush along the road. When we come by you grab me, and we all go to Berlin. Simple."
There was a moment of silence, and Hogan actually believed for a second that it might work before Kinch started, "except for the fact that the rescue will prove you're underground, the Gestapo all over Germany will be looking for us, Klink will have to report four missing prisoners, I won't blend in with Aryans, we won't have any transportation… Need I go on?"
Hogan let his pointed glare speak for him. Kinch meant well, but there was only so much a man could take in one day. The ambush was the only plan he could think of, and he didn't know what he would do if it wasn't possible.
Kinch seemed to read all of this from the one glance his CO sent him. In any case, his sarcastic tone softened, and he amended with, "I could stay behind and explain things to Klink. You know, make sure the records don't match with the Gestapo's and such. I couldn't go to Berlin anyway."
Hogan's anger dissipated at his radioman's words; he knew how hard it was for Kinch to stay behind while the rest of them were off on missions. He nodded. "Lebeau, Carter, Newkirk, get ready for the ambush. Be sure to take Emil with you. Carter, bring a few goodies along in case we run into trouble."
Carter's face lit up, and Hogan hurriedly went on to avoid any speeches on the virtue of. "Kinch, you stay here. We'll plan out Klink's view of the next few days." dynamite
There was hardly time to figure out the game plan, much less the details, before Schultz came in to announce that Hogan was needed in the Kommandant's office.
Hogan walked across the compound hurriedly, hunched into his bomber jacket, attempting to prepare himself for whatever was ahead. The Gestapo haven't arrived yet; Klink must want to warn me before it happens. Not bad, for a kraut.
He didn't bother to knock; Klink didn't seem to mind. Hogan tried to act surprised when he heard the news.
"Hogan… I am sorry. I never thought we would part this way." Klink seemed genuinely upset.
"Kommandant," Hogan began, trying to sound sincere and finding it wasn't as hard as he'd expected, "thank you for the care you've showed the men. You may be a kra – a German, but you're a different kind than Hochstetter. It's been an honor knowing you."
Klink looked like he wanted to say something back, but his reply was truncated as four Gestapo men burst through the door. Hogan found himself suddenly on his stomach, his arms wrenched behind his back, his face shoved into the floor. He was jerked up a second later. The head guard slapped a paper down on Klink's desk; the other two spun him around and dragged him onto their truck. They chained him in the back and left the camp without saying a word.
The ride was bumpy, and the awkward position of his arms didn't make it any more comfortable. Two of the guards kept their rifles trained on him constantly, and just when he thought things couldn't get tenser, the truck rolled to a stop.
For a fleeting instant he thought they were going to take him out and shoot him, until he heard Newkirk's welcome voice. The guards, however, didn't move, and for a second he thought everything was going to fall apart. Then, however, two Gestapo men, who bore a vague resemblance to Carter and Newkirk, stepped in the back of the truck to make a search. Hogan heard the cock of a gun and closed his eyes.
There was a short scuffle and then silence. He glanced up hesitantly to find Lebeau looking at him, brow creased. Hogan gave a short smile. "I'll be all right. Just got a little tricky there, is all." He was quickly unchained and jumped out onto the road to join the others, seeing that the guards had been taken care of once and for all.
As Emil walked up to join them, he turned to his friends and noticed the Lebeau was unsteady. "What's wrong?"
"It is nothing, Colonel. One of the guards hit my leg with his rifle, and it still stings. That is all."
"Would Wilson agree?"
"Wilson never agrees with anything, mon Colonel."
Hogan restrained a smile and shook his head. "You'll have to go back to camp, Lebeau. Help Kinch handle Klink. For the team and for you, I can't risk taking you along."
Shoulders drooping, Lebeau nevertheless agreed. "Oui, Colonel. Is there anything you want me to tell Kinch when I get back?"
Hogan considered, then said, "Yes. Tell him to make sure London reports us as having arrived, and make sure to make it sound as if I escaped on my own. Ask them to contact us at the hotel in Berlin with further instructions."
"Oui, mon colonel."
Hogan looked worriedly at his friend as Lebeau shifted his weight off of his left leg. "Are you sure you can make it back to camp?"
"I will be fine, sir. It is not very far."
Seeing the fierce determination in the Frenchmen's eyes, Hogan decided it would be better to leave the matter be. He nodded. "All-right, then you go ahead – and take care of that leg of yours. Everyone else, let's go." He sprang onto one side of the truck, while Carter clambered onto the other. Newkirk lay down in the back with a sniper's rifle to make sure they weren't followed. Hogan nodded to Carter, who started the engine.
They were going to get Louisa.
