Better the Enemy You Know
Return
Klink and Burkhalter were in Klink's office, silent. No word was exchanged. They simply sat and drew strength from one another. Not that they knew they were feeding off of each other, of course, because that would just be too… different. "I suppose we might as well accept it. Major Hochstetter is no more," Burkhalter finally said.
"And Zolle is the nightmare neither of us wanted," Klink declared.
"I never thought I would say it, but I miss Hochstetter," Burkhalter admitted, grimacing at the thought of Zolle. The man had put a vice on Stalag 13 and had almost had Klink executed before the Kommandant, soldiers, or prisoners could even process the Colonel was in danger. Luckily the General had stepped in and put a stop to the Gestapo man's plot. Of course that had earned him a report being made to Berlin recommending disciplinary action. Again, most fortunately, it had been 'disappeared' by Hilda and Schultz, the former of which had been spited enough to accidentally on purpose 'lose' the report, the latter of whom had burned it to a crisp. Burkhalter could see why Klink liked keeping the secretary near, besides for the obvious reasons, of course.
There was silence. Finally Klink asked, "Do you believe…" He didn't continue. The message was clear.
Burkhalter didn't answer for a long moment. Finally, though, he replied, "I will not believe it. Not without proof." Klink nodded. Then he wasn't the only one.
"Do you mourn him as I do?" Klink wondered.
Burkhalter looked sharply up at Klink. Soon enough he replied, thanking god he wasn't alone in feeling this way, "Jawohl… Perhaps a moment of silence is in order." The two officers stood and bowed their heads.
HH
All at once the door to the office was thrown open and a voice yelled, "Klink, what is happening in this camp? Why has security been tightened?!" Klink and Burkhalter paled, looking as if they'd heard a ghost. They spun to see their visitor and could only gape. "You are expecting an escape, Kom-man-dant! Do not deny it! Answer, schnell!" the man ordered, striking his gloves on the desk.
"Y-you… but… they…" Klink began, stammering. Burkhalter could only gape, flabbergasted.
"Bah! No matter. Klink, I am in need of this camp for the intensive interrogation of the citizens of Hammelburg," the man said. Looking at Burkhalter he added icily, eyes challenging the man to refuse, "If there are no objections, Herr Gen-er-al."
"Hochstetter!" Burkhalter exclaimed in shock.
Hochstetter started at the tone. "What? What is going on? You two act as if you have seen a ghost. Why is this camp silent? You would think someone had died."
"You did!" Klink blurted out.
HH
Hochstetter stiffened, eyes widening in shock. After a long moment he asked in a quieter voice, "I beg your pardon?" Why was Klink suddenly grinning like an idiot? Of course he was an idiot, but still. Burkhalter looked relieved, awestruck, and for the first time in as long as Hochstetter could remember, the man was grinning in amazement, eyes reflecting disbelief and respect.
"Major Hochstetter," Klink said, approaching slowly, still grinning. Burkhalter, still in wonder, was coming around his other side. Hochstetter looked blankly from one to another. "Ha, ha, Hochstetter, you are here. You are really here."
"Hochstetter, my dear friend, you for once have done something right," Burkhalter added.
"Excuse me?" Hochstetter blankly asked as he backed up against the wall. Since when was he dubbed 'friend' by Klink and Burkhalter? Why were they pressing in around him? They were in his space and he didn't trust it.
"You're alive!" Klink cheered, instantly pulling him into a hug. Hochstetter looked appalled.
He was equally as aghast when Burkhalter shot, "Enough, Klink, it is my turn!" Promptly he was hugged by Burkhalter.
"What is going on here?!" Hochstetter bellowed, livid as he pulled away from them both looking uncertain, guarded, and admittedly more than a little scared of the sudden change in the two.
"Major, you did not hear? The body of a Gestapo man, your size and build, was found bound to a bolted down chair in a burned barn. Why it was charred beyond recognition," Klink replied.
"It is widely believed to have been you. The barn was in the woods, just off your usual route," Burkhalter stated. "Where have you been?"
"I have been on leave," Hochstetter replied, shocked beyond belief.
"Who else but you knew of this leave? Major, you have been reported as MIA Presumed Dead!" Burkhalter exclaimed.
"MIA Presumed Dead?" Hochstetter asked, suddenly pale.
"Yes, but it doesn't matter anymore because you are here! Oh Major, you cannot imagine our relief. Zolle has been ridiculous," Klink said.
"Zolle?!" Hochstetter shot, immediately aggravated. "Where is Major Zolle?"
"Last I heard he was returning to Gestapo headquarters to retrieve your driver, Private Strauss," Burkhalter replied.
"Wait, Strauss would have read the report," Hochstetter suddenly realized. "Oh no…"
"What does your driver have to do with anything?" Klink asked.
"I-I will tell you later. Klink, Burkhalter, I will be back. No one leaves this camp!" Hochstetter shot, quickly leaving.
HH
Hilda, having just returned from her lunch break, sat behind her desk, Schultz nearby. All at once the door to the Kommandant's office was thrown open and a voice ordered, "Frauline Hilda, send for my car!"
Hilda screamed in horror, going white. "G-g-g-ghost!" Schultz cried out, pointing in absolute terror.
Hochstetter started and blinked blankly. "M-Major Hochstetter… But-but you are dead," Hilda numbly said.
"Dead? Bah! The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated! Where is my car? Sergeant, schnell, schnell!"
"Ja-jawohl, Herr Major," Schultz stammered, quickly scrambling out of the room as Hilda stared at Hochstetter in shock, unable to believe her own eyes. How far had this rumor spread, Hochstetter wondered.
HH
The prisoners sat as quiet as mice. What could be said? Apparently LeBeau knew, because he spoke first, asking, "Am I the only one who feels… this?"
"We've all got that, mate," Newkirk said.
"Whatever 'that' is," Kinch said.
"Colonel Hogan, what are we gonna do without Hochstetter?" Carter asked.
"Business as usual," Hogan answered. "We'll just have to be… more careful."
"Did anyone realize just how huge of an impact this would have?" Kinch asked.
"Not a one," Baker answered tiredly, flipping on the radio with which they listened in on Klink's office. Then they heard the voice, the oh so familiar voice. The bunker instantly erupted into cheers, unprovoked and unexpected by all of them.
HH
Strauss cried out in pain as Zolle struck him again. "Shoot him, boy!" Zolle ordered viciously, pointing at an Allied soldier, a captive, the only surviving member of a group that had strayed too far from the bulk of the battalion.
Strauss gazed at the young man, fear in his eyes. The soldier was looking at him in terror and hatred. "Nein," Strauss answered.
"What did Hochstetter see in you? I very much wonder," Zolle remarked. "You are hardly a son that would make a father proud. You are hardly a man."
"I will not shoot him," Strauss refused.
"Nein? Very well. There is no need," Zolle stated. He took aim with his pistol and fired without a thought. Strauss closed his eyes tightly as the bullet echoed and the body hit the ground. He refused to open them again, even when Zolle seized his arm and shoved him down next to the dead man. "Learn to kill, Private, or you will not last a minute in this war, you worthless coward."
"Zolle, you Dummkopf! Why are you striking my driver?!" a voice bellowed. "I order you to release Private Strauss immediately! Bah! You dare call him a coward? Idiot, it takes no courage or brains at all to pick up a gun and shoot someone. It takes all the courage in the world to throw the weapon down and declare that you would rather die than kill another person." The tone was furious and dangerous and angry. Zolle stiffened and paled. It couldn't be.
Strauss gasped, turning quickly. His eyes widened. "Major Hochstetter!" he exclaimed in glee.
Hochstetter looked at him, eyes for one of those rare times softening. Strauss leapt up. Before the Private could remember any form of discipline or training, he'd thrown himself into the man's arms, sobbing in relief. Hochstetter held the boy back in shock. He shot an ugly look at Zolle, having noticed his driver's bruises, and growled, "Not this time, Zolle. Dismissed! Raus, raus, raus schnell!" Zolle scowled and left silently, leaving the 'resurrected' man to reassure his subordinate.