After he got over the initial shock, Carter quickly turned to Olsen, starting to let him know about what had just happened. But LeBeau had already gotten to his feet, tearing towards the woods. Schultz didn't even look up, still trying to count out five minutes.

Carter got up, tearing after LeBeau.

"Louis, what are you doing?" he said, once they were part-way into the woods.

"Those bêtes have Pierre!" the Frenchman retorted. "If you think for one moment that I would let them get away—"

"I know why you're doing this," Carter said, cutting him off. "What I want to know is why you headed into the woods!"

"Because there is no point in chasing after the truck on the road; I am hoping that the snow will be slowing them down enough for me to intercept them if I cut through the woods! I need to stop them before they get into town; I cannot go into Hammelburg in my uniform!"

"We're going to intercept them," the American replied.

LeBeau looked back at him and gave him a grateful nod.

"Of course, Colonel Hogan's going to be furious when he hears about what we did," Carter added. "But since he technically didn't order us to not rescue—"

"Never mind that now; there is no telling what they will do to Pierre if we do not act now!" LeBeau retorted. "Please tell me you have some sort of weapon on you!"

"Afraid not," Carter said. "I only thought we were going to be on a work detail; all I have with me are two lousy smokescreen charges."

"With any luck, that will be enough; keep one ready!"

"Right," the sergeant replied, pulling the charge out of his pocket, along with a lighter.

LeBeau led Carter to the edge of the wood again, near the road. They both froze, struggling to hear the sounds of the truck.

"I think I hear the truck coming," Carter whispered.

"Then get going; we will only have one chance!" LeBeau ordered.

"Right!"

Carter lit the smokescreen charge and threw it out into the road. Smoke soon filled the area, and LeBeau distinctly heard the squeal of the truck's brakes.

"Now, André!" he exclaimed, running for the truck.

Carter was behind him as LeBeau quietly dashed to the back door of the truck and opened it. Newkirk was inside, unconscious, propped up against a couple of spare tires.

LeBeau cursed the two men, jumping into the truck. He grabbed a tarp stored in the truck and placed it on his unconscious friend. Getting the idea, Carter jumped in and helped LeBeau carry Newkirk out.

"To the woods!" LeBeau instructed. "We must find a place to hide from them until it is safe to return to Stalag 13!"

"Snow's picking up!" Carter said, walking blindly through the smokescreen outside. "That'll help cover our tracks, but it'll make hiding out there a lot tougher!"

They had made it into the woods as the smuggler and the Egyptian infiltrator reached the back of the open truck. The smuggler cursed, trying to determine where they had gone.

"Don't drive yourself mad trying to find them," the Egyptian said, calmly. He was finding this to be a most interesting situation; testing his adversaries was a favorite pastime of his. "I will be able to locate them later, but we must hide ourselves; there will be a search for us and this truck. We should make ourselves scarce for the next several hours."

"What about the corporal and the artifacts?" the gruff smuggler countered. "They'll go back to Stalag 13; we won't be able to get close to them again!"

The Egyptian looked up at the falling snow. It was picking up, promising to be an even worse blizzard than that of the day before.

"Somehow, I doubt they will get very far in those few hours," he mused. "Their progress will be slow, impeded by the blizzard. And they will stay away from the road because they know we will be waiting for them; they will subsequently get delayed or lost. We will come back for the corporal and the artifacts tonight."

"And then I'll kill the ones who interfered," the gruff man vowed.

Colonel Hogan was not a man who normally displayed his anger—on most occasions, that is. That was the reason why everyone gave him a very wide berth upon his reaction to finding out from Olsen about what happened. Olsen had told Schultz that the men had taken Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter; in case something happened, they had not wanted LeBeau and Carter to be charged with an escape attempt. But Olsen had, of course, told the truth to Hogan. And Hogan was most displeased.

Officer's dignity prevented the colonel from unleashing his anger in front of his men; quiet curses instead issued from within his office as he sought to curse various people for various reasons: Newkirk, for stealing the artifacts, the travelers, for stealing Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter, for going after them, and, lastly, he cursed himself for not seeing it coming from a mile away, as he usually was able to do so.

What a time to get mental snow blindness, he hissed at himself. Worse yet, I've still got it. I don't have a plan to get them back. I don't even know where they are!

Schultz now entered the barracks again, utterly worried about the three missing soldiers.

"How's Langenscheidt?" Kinch asked.

"He is awake, but feeling rather stiff," the big man replied. "But I came here to tell Colonel Hogan that the Big Shot wants to see him, and is he ever upset!"

"So is Colonel Hogan," said Baker. "But I can try to see if he has a moment—"

"I heard," Hogan said, coming out of the office. "What does he want?"

"He is not convinced that the kidnapping was a kidnapping," Schultz explained. "He thinks that it was just a cover-up for an escape."

"Which idiot put that idea into his head?" Hogan asked.

"Major Hochstetter; he is in the office, too," Schultz replied. "He thinks the two men who were here were really Underground agents."

"I'm sorry I asked," the colonel muttered. But Schultz had given him an idea. "I'll be out in a minute Schultz; can you wait outside?"

"Wait outside? But Colonel Hogan, there's a blizzard out there!"

"Well, if you'd rather hear the plan I've got…"

"I'll wait outside," the big man said, hurriedly heading back outside.

"You have an idea, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"Half an idea, which is better than none," he replied. "I know those weren't Underground agents, but see if you can get in touch with the real Underground—whomever you can contact. Tell them what happened and to spread the word. Have them report if they see the truck, the men, or our boys. If we can just figure out where they're headed, we might be able to have an arm of the Underground intercept them."

"I'll try, Colonel," said Kinch. "But I'm not so sure about how much the Underground can get done in this weather."

"And that's why it's only half an idea," Hogan said. He headed outside to follow Schultz to Klink's office as Kinch headed down to the radio room.

"Ah, Colonel Hogan," Klink said, as the American arrived, brushing snow off of his jacket. "I heard the report about this supposed kidnapping—"

"I assure you, Colonel, it's not an escape," Hogan said. "My men were shanghaied, plain and simple, and I'm willing to help in whatever way I can to find them."

"Impossible; who would bother to kidnap your men?" Hochstetter sneered. "I am convinced that those two were Underground agents."

"Then that means that the escape was your fault!" Klink insisted, glaring at Hochstetter through his monocle. "You insisted on bringing those men here; you enabled them to carry out this nefarious deed!"

"I told you, it's not an escape!" Hogan insisted. His temper had already run thin, but he was forcing himself to remain calm in front of Klink and Hochstetter. There was no need for them to see how intimidating he could be… not yet, anyway. "Kommandant, look at my track record! Whenever there's been an escape, don't I admit it?"

"After intensive question, yes," Klink admitted. "And then we usually convince you to help us recover the escapees. I trust you will help us again?"

"I told you I'd do what I could to help," Hogan said. "And they aren't escapees; they're kidnap victims! I think it's highly insensitive of you to be so suspicious, Kommandant, when three of my men might be in mortal danger!"

"Mortal danger? Bah!" Hochstetter said. "I'll find those three escapees, and then they'll be in mortal danger. Tell me, which are the three missing men?"

"Sergeant Carter, Corporal Newkirk, and Corporal Strudel—I mean, LeBeau," Schultz answered. "Oh, poor LeBeau. I hope those men won't break his fingers off; he was already so cold before he was taken…"

"I only wanted the names," Hochstetter responded, through gritted teeth. "Rest assured, Klink, I will surround this area with a ring of steel until I find them and the agents."

He strode out of the office door, somewhat subdued.

"I must admit, it's nice to see him squirm," Klink said, sitting back down. "He knows he will be in trouble for bringing those agents here in the first place. But that also means that I will be in trouble for those three escapees. Hogan, I am demanding your cooperation!"

"Kommandant, I'm telling you the truth—those two visitors are kidnappers!"

"And how are you so sure about this, Hogan?" Klink asked, crossing his arms. "You weren't even there to see it happen. And Schultz here had his face down the entire time; there is no way of knowing whether or not those three men went willingly."

"Herr Kommandant, they threatened me with—"

"Langenscheidt's rifle—I know, I know. Schultz, if you had kept your rifle loaded, this may not have even happened!"

"I beg to differ, Herr Kommandant; they told me to drop my weapon. I wouldn't have been able to-"

"Oh, shut up!"

"Sergeant Olsen saw the whole thing," Hogan said, interrupting the spat before it went off on another tangent. "You can question him."

"Rest assured, I will," Klink answered. "As far as the three men are concerned, I will send out some of my guards to check the area near the Hammelburg Road. I am sure Major Hochstetter will have inspected everywhere else. In his crazed zeal, he might find them by the time I get my men out there."

"Crazed zeal? Hah! It's an act, Kommandant, and you're falling for it," Hogan said, trying a new tactic. Klink wasn't going to believe that the kidnappers weren't members of the Underground without a believable story. Not only was the truth difficult to believe, it would be impossible to explain without getting into trouble. "Think about it. Hochstetter brings two men here on the pretext of finding saboteurs. He knows there's never been an escape from here, so why bother? Then the same two men kidnap three of my men, and Hochstetter comes in here, claiming that it's an escape! Surely you can read between the lines!"

"I can?"

"Of course! Hochstetter's still upset by your no-escape record, so he worked with the kidnappers to make it look like it was an escape, when, really, he knows they were kidnapped. The kidnappers will probably give him the location of where they're holding my men; Hochstetter recaptures them, there goes your record, and there you go to the Russian Front!"

Klink went rigid in his seat.

"And if it is this cold here, it must be even colder there!" Schultz added, shuddering. "Herr Kommandant, your fingers might fall off!"

"Quiet, Schultz!" Klink ordered. "Hogan, where do you think they could have gone?"

"Kommandant, if I knew, I would've told you," Hogan said, being entirely truthful this time. "Let's just hope that your guards can find them in this weather."

"Schultz! Get a special formation of guards ready to search the area near the Hammelburg Road!" the German colonel ordered. "Tell them to question everyone they meet on the road! You know what truck to look for?"

"Ja; Langenscheidt gave me a description of it. He was closest, and he—"

"Go, Schultz, go!"

"At once, Herr Kommandant!" the big man said, saluting before fleeing. He was not looking forward to going back out into the cold, but he was willing to put up with it to find the missing soldiers.

"Is that all, Kommandant?" Hogan asked.

"For now; I will let you know when I am ready to question Sergeant Olsen. Dismissed."

Hogan saluted, as well, and headed back to the barracks. He had succeeded in getting Klink's guards to look for the missing men, but the thought wasn't comforting at all; his sixth sense was telling him that this was going to be a lot harder than he hoped it would be.

The Egyptian man's sixth sense had come true; the increasing intensity of the blizzard had proved to be too much for LeBeau and Carter, who had been trudging through the accumulating snow, carrying the unconscious Newkirk. But they had been miles from camp, and were making very poor time due to the weather and the load.

Forced to stop, the American and the Frenchman set up the tarp they had taken and hung it over some low-hanging tree branches to serve as a makeshift tent. It only served as a mild shield against the snow and wind, and the two men were both very cold and miserable.

Minutes turned to hours as the snow continued to fall. They had not been discovered; the increasing blizzard had forced both Klink's guards and Hochstetter's men to take a break from the search. The search would soon be starting up again; the blizzard was moving on. But LeBeau and Carter had other things on their minds; they had been trying, without success, to get Newkirk to come to.

"He's going to freeze if we don't get him conscious!" Carter worried. "Maybe it's because he took the treasure…"

"Quoi?" LeBeau asked, his eyebrows arching.

"Oh, you know… the mummy's curse?" Carter went on. "I remember this movie I saw with Mary Jane several years ago; it was about this Egyptian mummy named Imhotep who came back to life after someone read a spell. He ran around killing people because some girl—"

"André, it was just a film!" LeBeau responded, with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, but what about that tomb that was found back in the '20s?" he challenged. "They opened it up, found mummies and treasures, and people started dying mysteriously."

"Ah, oui? And what about my grandfather?" LeBeau countered. "He funded an Egyptian expedition, and they found a king's tomb, with treasures and mummies. He was there when they opened the coffin."

"And wait; let me guess—he's dead now, right?"

"Well, yes—"

"Aha!"

"Aha, nothing; he was over a hundred years old when he passed!" LeBeau countered, with another roll of his eyes.

"Oh…" Carter said, pausing for a moment. "Wait! Maybe the curse is dormant, passing down from generation to generation until it finally decides to strike! Maybe you've got it!"

"André, believe me, if I drop dead now, it will be because you talked me to death!"

"Hey, I'm just trying to look out for you!"

"Look out for me? I think you have been in the cold too long, André; you're starting to ramble more than what is normal for you!"

"Louis…?"

"Look, I'm just saying that maybe we should have an open mind about certain things," Carter said. "There are things in this world that we can't explain, and this just may be one of them!"

"Oi, Andrew? Louis?"

"Oui, there may be mysterious happenings. But why believe in ancient tales and curses?"

"Legends do have some basis of fact. And they teach lessons! Take the Sioux legend of The Mysterious Butte; it's a legend that tells us why we shouldn't go around stealing artifacts—"

"Could you two stop your ruddy nattering for 'alf a minute?"

The American and the Frenchman both paused, but then turned to face the groggy Englishman.

"Pierre!" LeBeau exclaimed, helping his friend sit up.

Newkirk flinched as LeBeau helped him; his arms and legs were still rather numb.

"Cor blimey; what 'appened?" he asked. "And why is it so cold?"

"Those two smugglers who were in our barracks tried to kidnap you," Carter said. "You feeling alright?"

"I'll let you know," Newkirk murmured.

"They had you in a truck," LeBeau went on. "André and I got you out, but the blizzard increased. We're still in the woods near the Hammelburg Road; we have been trying to get you to wake up for hours!"

"We're snowed in out 'ere?" Newkirk asked, incredulously. "Charming…"

"Actually, I think the worst has passed," said Carter. "It's dark out, but I think the snow has moved on. We probably should get our bearings and head back to camp."

"Oui; le Colonel will be worried," LeBeau agreed.

"One problem," Newkirk said, upset at being such a bother. "Me 'ead is awake, but me legs ain't; I can't even feel them."

"So, we'll help you," Carter offered.

Between the two of them, the American and the Frenchman supported the Englishman up, helping him to stand up and allowing Newkirk to somewhat clumsily amble forward. It was highly embarrassing for him that the other two had to rescue him and help him walk; he would hopefully be able to live this down afterward.

The winter night had come quickly; it was still miserably cold, and the wind still blew, but the snowfall itself had tapered off, as Carter had predicted. There were even some gaps in the clouds; a few stars were visible in the patches of night sky.

The soldiers' feet crunched across the snow as they made their way through the forest. Carter had taken a moment to climb up a tree to get their position. They had just started to continue on their way when they heard a stick crack from being stepped on.

"Imhotep…!" Carter whispered, his eyes wide. "I think we should leave the artifacts here and get going!"

"Use that other smokescreen charge!" LeBeau hissed. "We need to get away!"

"Right!"

Carter ignited the charge just as he heard another footfall coming from the direction that led back towards the road. Tossing the charge, he and LeBeau helped Newkirk away from the area under the cover of smoke.

"Just hold on, Pierre!" LeBeau said. "We will get you to safety!"

"We'd better turn left here," said Carter.

"Andrew, are you sure?" Newkirk asked, looking behind them. He shuddered slightly; it was as though he could sense someone's gaze piercing through the cloud of smoke as though it wasn't even there.

"We have to throw them off our trail!" the American answered. "Besides, we can't afford to let them—"

He stopped short as he found himself staring down the barrel of Langenscheidt's stolen rifle. He was only vaguely aware of Newkirk and LeBeau letting out gasping curses as he looked up to see both of the two smugglers.

Little Deer had unwittingly led them back into the hunters' clutches.

Author's note: The movie that Carter was referring to was, of course, the original 1932 version of The Mummy, and the tomb discovery was that of Tutankhamun. The legend he referred to is a real Lakota Sioux legend.