So this chapter contains most of the reason why this story is rated T. This was probably one of the hardest chapters I've written. Funny story though, it took me accidentally falling down my wooden stairs and actually passing out for whatever odd reason to figure out bits and pieces of this chapter. I really hope I was able to do it justice.
*Disclaimer* I don't own anything Hogan's Heroes!
~4~Gone Hunting~4~
"Papa Bear calling Mama Bear, Papa Bear calling Mama Bear, come in Mama Bear, do you read me?" Kinch called over the radio.
"We read you Papa Bear, go ahead," The man with a British accent on the other end replied.
"Bearskin was compromised, Papa Bear Sr. in danger of being compromised, ordered to enact extraction protocol if truly compromised. Request assistance," Kinch reported trying to keep it simple and detached despite this being his worst nightmare.
"Request granted. We hope this is not necessary though ol' boy," Was the reply.
"Same here Mama Bear. We'll keep you posted,"
"Right. Good luck Papa Bear," The man in London signed off and whispered a prayer that today would end without bloodshed for the men in Stalag 13. They deserved that much with all they were doing for the war effort.
-HHHHHH-
Newkirk donned a Gestapo uniform. He was not going out in broad daylight in nothing less. He momentarily considered wearing the Abwehr uniform, but he decided that would not be necessary. He wanted to blend in, not make anyone more jumpy and trigger happy than they already were. If this war, and life in general actually, had taught him anything, it was that sometimes the most obvious plans kept you alive another day longer. Besides, with all the Gestapo already crawling around the area, who would stop to think twice about seeing another. It was better than camouflage. He grabbed his flawless, if he did say so himself, documentation papers, firearms, some money, and personal effects and took out through the back exit as the Colonel had instructed him.
Newkirk had made it half a kilometer before he even ran into any patrols, the Colonel had been right about the back of the camp not being well guarded. When wasn't the Colonel right though. The Colonel wasn't revered as a military genius for nothing, Newkirk thought proudly. Beside the fact, that the krauts were growing more and more predictable, it would have been amusing under different circumstances. But today was no laughing matter.
"Halt!" came the order from the patrol comprised of 2 corporals and a private.
Newkirk knew he would have no problems getting past them with his guise as a sergeant. He swiftly handed over his papers.
"Was ist dein Zweck?" (What is your purpose?) One of the corporal's demanded.
"Der Major schickte mich, um unsere Spione auf der Hof zu überprüfen. Ihre Loyalität kommt in Frage," (The major sent me to check on our spies on the farm. Their loyalty is in question,) Newkirk replied with the flawless German he had acquired in his years at Stalag 13.
"Alles ist in Ordnung. Heil Hitler!" (All is in order.) They saluted before taking off on their way.
Newkirk continued on his way not thinking twice about anything. He had been on more dangerous missions way too often. Besides the worst part of his mission was still to come. No matter how mad he was to have lost Bearskin and no matter how much he was pissed off at the Gestapo for what they were up to once again, straight up killing people was never his favorite job to do in this war. Unfortunately, this was not the first such mission he'd been on. Once making it to the farm house without coming upon another patrol, Newkirk felt like he was done with all the challenges this mission had to throw at him. This was the easy part, and that's why he deemed it the worst.
He knocked on the door roughly with the butt of his rifle. Have to get this over with sometime, and the Colonel did say not to take more time than absolutely necessary.
"Hallo Sargent!" A man greeted with a smile that Newkirk recognised as one that could only grace the face of one loyal to the Furrer. No one was happy to see Gestapo. Not even other Gestapo for, as Carter would say, 'crying out loud.'
Without a second thought he shot the man dead with his pistol. Only way to do these things was fast. Just rip it off like a bandage. "That's for the kindly old man who's place you took and for his grandchildren who will mourn his loss," Newkirk growled and stepped over the body. He really didn't feel as bad as he knew he should for the now dead man, he'd known Bearskin and their loss would be mourned by many. Newkirk continued on and went to search for the woman. He wasn't disappointed. A portly woman came rushing out of the kitchen.
"Was machst du?" (What are you doing?) The woman gasped at the pistol that was trained on her.
"Du bist nicht Frau Schäfer," (You are not Mrs. Schäfer,) Newkirk growled at her. The kindly Frau Schäfer had been extremely kind to him and all the fliers she had helped over the years. He was actually slightly glad he would be the one to avenge her. He knew Frau Schäfer had known what could happen to her when she got involved in the underground. But that didn't mean that her loss wasn't any less tragic. She didn't deserve to die.
"Wer bist du?" (Who are you?) The woman gasped, she was completely loyal and she thought all the Gestapo would know of their place as spies. But she now guessed that was a false assumption.
"A friend of Frau Schäfer," The Englander told the woman in his strongest Cockney accent and pulled the trigger.
-HHHHHH-
Meanwhile back at the Stalag, Carter and Lebeau were placing dynamite in the tunnels, gathering what they would need to take to London with them, and informing every barrack that the signal to enact the escape was Hochstetter's death followed by the tunnel under the cooler blowing. Which would be triggered when Carter verified the death of the Colonel. Then they waited pacing the Colonel's office as they listened to the ongoing interrogation. By the time they began listening, they could tell that things were not going to end well for their beloved commanding officer.
-HHHHHH-
"Now Colonel Hogan, I have been more than patient," Hochstetter's short fuse was about to blow. He had been going in circles with the prisoner of war for well over thirty minutes. The man was infuriating to say the least! The only reason why he was still going in circles with the swine was because at this point he had no other option and the American was stronger than Hochstetter was willing to give him credit for.
"As have I Major. I'm telling the truth, I don't know anything about some...Papa, what was it? Papa Hare?" Colonel Hogan knew he was playing with fire, but the American also knew that at this point he had pretty much nothing to lose. If he fessed up he was dead and more people with him. If he didn't fess up, he was still dead, but there was less of a chance that others would share his fate, at least today. So he held firm. That was in reality the only option he would ever consider anyway.
"Papa Bear. B-E-A-R. Not hare," The major growled signaling for his man to deliver another blow to the prisoner. The corporal struck the American Colonel's shin with the butt of his rifle with deliberate force.
Sucking in a breath from the pain and wincing not wanting to give the gestapo the pleasure of crying out. Colonel Hogan donned a pensive look giving himself a moment to collect himself. Making it seem like the blow had actually jogged his memory he allowed his face to light with mock recollection. Coupled with the perfectly schooled face, he took on a tone that slightly reminded himself of Carter. "Oh! Like from goldilocks?"
"That's the one," Hochstetter growled through clenched teeth. He had not expected much, but this man was utterly impossible! Hochstetter knew he was not going to be able to remain civil much longer. There was only so much of the American's shit he could endure.
"Next thing I know you'll be thinking I'm the big bad wolf," Hogan chuckled at his own joke using the humor to distract himself from the pain he was currently experiencing. Unfortunately, the chuckling had been a bad idea. Every normal breath was no picnic after the guard's rifle had become acquainted with his ribs a few times throughout the course of their chat. Therefore, the chuckle brought on a coughing fit that only served to increase his current discomfort. And that was putting it mildly.
"I have less pleasant ways of making people talk Hogan," Hochstetter waved his hands about as the Colonel continued coughing.
"What do you call this? A little coffee klatch?" Hogan muttered barely audible as he struggled to get himself back under control.
"What was that Colonel Hogan?" Hochstetter genuinely thought Hogan may be ready to divulge some information. Though deep down he realized how nieve that thought was when Hogan was involved.
"So I've heard," Hogan took a few breaths negating a deep breath in attempt to not instigate another coughing fit. "But, you know Major, what happens if you go through all that and then you find out I still have no idea what you're talking about?" Hogan asked being as serious as could be trying to throw his enemy a curveball. His more serious nature was definitely one of the few aces he had up his sleeves.
The look on Hochstetter's face was proof of the efficacy of Hogan's tactic. The strategist smiled internally.
"The first thing you have said that makes sense." Not the sense that the major wanted, but sense nonetheless.
"The only sabotage I know about Major, is Klink stealing from our Red Cross packages."
Growing tired of Hogan's continued insolence once again Hochstetter signaled for his man who brought the weapon down as hard as he could on the Colonel's kneecap.
There was nothing Hogan could do but howl out in pain. The corners of his vision went black and he saw crackles. He felt light headed and nauseous, like he was going to vomit. The other blows had knocked the wind out of him or hurt like a mother, but this. Hogan had never experienced such pain before, and it wasn't ebbing away. His breaths came fast and ragged as he tried to fight through the pain. The American began to feel more dizzy like he was going to pass out. Maybe if he was lucky he'd vomit on Hochstetter.
The howl of pain snapped Klink out of the daze he had been in since the interrogation had started. It was his brain's coping mechanism against witnessing what a fellow German was doing to a man he in a way respected.
"Major, was that absolutely necessary?" Klink asked not even sure what had transpired, but if the sheen of sweat on Hogan's face, his irregular breathing, and clammy skin was anything to go by, this had gotten out of hand a while ago.
"Yes Herr kommandant. This man is hiding secrets," The gestapo major grabbed a fistfull of the black hair of the man tied down in the chair in front of him and jerked it so Hogan was looking him in the eyes. "How do you contact London Colonel?"
"I don't know what you mean," Hogan's resolve had only been solidified by the blow. Maybe with him this close this would be a good time to puke, his brain was screaming.
"How do you get information to and from London?" The Major's grip on the man's hair tightened.
"The same way anyone else does Major. The mail," Colonel Hogan wasn't sure how any of this was going to work. He was starting to feel less light headed, but the painful throbbing and stabbing in his knee was clouding his mind. "If you found a faster way, I'd love to hear it Major because there's this brunette that I would kill to hear from more often." Humor was his go to. It was how he coped. And right now, more than ever before, he needed every coping mechanism he had ever had.
"Hogan, do you ever think of anything but girls?" Klink interrupted. How a man who was quite obviously in great pain could joke about girls was way beyond Klink.
"Sometimes I think about my family back home, and my dog." Hogan quipt. God in heaven Almighty, he missed that damned mutt. What he wouldn't give to have a wet sloppy kiss after playing a game of fetch. It was the small things he seemed to miss the most a fair majority of the time.
"Major Hochstetter, don't you think that a leader in the underground would have more on his mind than girls?" Klink forced a laugh.
"He is stalling, that is all," The Gestapo Major pulled out a pocket knife and opened it inspecting the shiny silver blade.
Hogan didn't even flinch. "You do know that keys would be more effective to take these handcuffs off Major,"
The Major sneered and thrust it into Colonel Hogan's hand.
Once the action registered in Hogan's brain he let out a grunt, but was biting his tongue to stifle any other noise that might try and escape. That hadn't hurt near as bad as the knee, but put them together, the blackening around his field of vision was back and he started to hear a ringing in his ears.
The Major turned it clockwise to increase the pain the instrument was causing. The action also caused Hogan's head to start to feel like the room was rocking side to side and he could taste the bitter bile rising in his throat.
"Now tell me something useful or you will regret it." Hochstetter snarled.
"You really should get your blood pressure checked, your anger levels can't be good for it." He replied swallowing back what was threatening to escape his stomach. His teeth were clenched trying his darndest to stay in the correct frame of mind.
Before Hochstetter could react, a gestapo corporal came barging in with a blue uniform clad man in handcuffs.
"Herr Major, we found this man stumbling around in the woods, maybe is this the man the farmers saw?"
"You dare interrupt me!" Hochstetter bellowed.
"Hogan ol' boy! What have you gotten yourself into this time?" A familiar voice questioned and Colonel Hogan moaned. With all he had one his plate right now, this was the absolute and utter last thing he needed. Anything would have been welcome more! Possibly even that Russian lady...well maybe not, but just no. Not Crittenden!