A/N: Here's hoping everybody has a joyous and happy holiday and New Years.

Chapter 7

(Flashback - Early March, 1944):

And that was exactly what Hogan and his men did for the next week. Everywhere Sergeant Hotchner went, one of Hogan's men was not far behind him. They all watched him closely as he interacted with other prisoners and guards, but stayed far enough away not to be detected by the man. Hotchner did his best to keep out of trouble and obey the camp rules. By the end of week, Hogan's mind had been made up finally. He would have the young man join his team.

Hogan gave the man the guided tour of the tunnels and their operation, amused by the man's amazement at what he was shown. After that, the officer had Kinch teach him to work the radio and learn the codes when contacting London, as well as the codenames of their underground contacts. The colonel believed after he became familiar with the radio that he could then learn other facets of the operation. Eventually, Hogan hoped, he'd be able to send the new man out on missions from London. In fact, for a while he had been thinking about expanding his team by an extra man, and Hotchner seemed like the perfect fit. But his eagerness and quickness at learning things wasn't all that impressed Hogan.

What really impressed him was the man's uncanny ability to 'read' people. He could figure out what people were going to do before they did it. And what amazed Hogan and the men even more, was that Hotchner always read people correctly. And although Hogan wouldn't easily admit it to his men, nor even to himself, he found this ability Hotchner had helpful but still somewhat creepy.

One day, Hogan was alone in the barracks studying a map of the area the airdrop was to take place. With a sigh, he rested one foot on the bench with both arms across his thigh, hands hanging over the sides. He realized the location for the drop was in an area with sparse foliage for camouflage. Also, it was a distance from the tunnel opening concealed in the tree stump just outside camp.

His original decision was to send Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau to pick up the supplies. Carter had discovered he needed timers and caps as he was running short after their mission several weeks earlier. And Sergeant Joe Wilson, the camp medic, desperately needed medical supplies. The last group of escapees they took in, several of whom were injured, caused him to run short of many supplies. Hogan decided to combine the lists, and had Kinch get in touch with London who arranged an air drop in twenty-four hours.

Suddenly a twisted grin appeared on the officer's face. He would add Hotchner to the party. After all, this was a simple task just signaling a plane, picking up an air drop, and bringing everything back to camp. Mostly Hogan told himself it would do the young man good to get out of camp, and show him that he trusted him. Satisfied, Hogan stood up straight, picked up the map and re-folded it. As he did so, the barracks door opened and the man in question walked in alone. The officer glanced at the man with a grin.

"Just the man I wanna see," the colonel commented.

"Something wrong, sir?" asked Hotchner nervously, afraid he might have inadvertently done something which annoyed the officer.

"Not at all." The officer stuck the folded map inside his inner jacket pocket then draped a friendly arm around the man's shoulders. Both men walked in the direction of Hogan's private quarters. "In fact, your timing's perfect. How would you like to leave camp?"

Hotchner's eyes widened. Whatever he was expecting this wasn't it. "You mean escape, Colonel? But…but I thought you had a no-escape policy?"

Hogan chuckled. "I do. What I meant was how would you like to leave camp and go with a couple of the guys to help bring back supplies being airdropped from London?"

Hotchner froze. "But sir, are you sure about this? I mean, I'm still new here. Wouldn't you feel better having another of your regulars go with the guys?"

The Colonel's face became serious. "I could, but I chose you instead. You deserve a break, sergeant. Besides, you've earned it. Also, this'll give you a taste of being outside the wire. And the job's simple. I need someone to help LeBeau back up Carter and Newkirk while they bring back the supplies."

Hotchner grinned like a little kid. "You can count on me, Colonel," he said. "When is the airdrop?"

"It's at 2200 hours tonight. You, Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau be ready to leave here at nine p.m. You have a distance to walk to reach the location where the drop will be made." (1)

"Yes, sir." He noticed Hogan about to enter his private quarters alone, but the officer paused before opening the door, and turned toward the younger man with arms wrapped around himself. "Is something bothering you, sergeant?"

Hotchner looked at the floor with one hand stuffed in his pants pocket, the other rubbing the back of his neck. "Kinda, sir. In fact, something's been bugging me since I came here, and nobody will tell me anything. Whenever I ask, they uh…they all tell me I should ask you about it."

"What is it?" Hogan asked, curious.

It was then the door of the barracks opened behind them, both men looked around and saw a few prisoners enter. Hotchner faced the American officer. "Sir, can we talk in private?"

"Sure."

Hogan opened the door to his quarters and allowed the enlisted man to walk past him and followed him inside, closing the door behind him. He gestured to the lower bunk and the sergeant took a seat, waiting. Hogan grabbed the chair from behind his desk which consisted of a chair and a wooden table, turned it around, and sat down, arms across the back of the chair. "Now, what do you want to ask me?" He sensed hesitation on Hotchner's part and grinned mischievously. "Don't be afraid, sergeant. I promise I don't bite despite what you might have been told."

But this didn't seem to relax the noncom one bit. "I remember when you visited me in the cooler when I came here, and I asked you how an officer got assigned to a camp for us enlisted men. You avoided answering me, and I'm still curious. I mean, you seem to be the only ranking officer here except for Klink."

Hogan smiled warmly at the younger man. "And you're curious as to how I came to be assigned here instead of a camp for Allied officers." He sighed. "How I came to be here is no big secret. It's just that I don't go around advertising it. LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Newkirk know, and I don't mind telling you." He took in a deep breath, and let it out through his nose. "After I was shot down, I kept trying to escape every chance I got." He chuckled. "I guess the Krauts got tired of chasing after me and bringing me back. So, they figured the best way to keep me locked up was to assign me to a camp where I would be in command of others. They figured as a commander I wouldn't escape and leave the men under me to fend for themselves. And they were right for once. I would never leave the men here on their own."

Hotchner nodded his understanding. "Does Klink know what's going on under his camp?"

Hogan snickered despite trying to control his laughter at the question. "Are you kidding me?" he asked arching an eyebrow. "Klink couldn't find his monocle without help. We keep him around because it's good for business. Our business. And as long as he's in charge, we can run our operation freely. So I don't allow escapes. It's to keep the Bald Eagle's perfect record of no escapes in tact. Does that answer your question?" he added with a smile.

Hotchner's smile showed his dimples. "Yes, sir. But don't be surprised if I have more questions to ask you. There's so much more I want to find out about the operation."

"I'll try and answer any questions you may have that any of the men can't or won't answer for you." Hogan got up off the chair the same time the sergeant got to his feet. "So unless there's something else, I have things to take care of before tonight."

"Yes, sir. And thank you, sir." Hotchner nodded to the officer before he left the small office leaving the Colonel alone.

(End of Flashback)

Hotch stopped reading at this point. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before opening them again. He discovered he still had twenty minutes remaining before lunchtime ended. So he resumed reading, the rest of his lunch seemingly forgotten now.

(Flashback – March, 1944):

The rest of the day went by without any further incidents. The only thing that happened was that Hogan had gone over where the men were to meet the plane. Those selected were excited about going on the assignment. But Kinch, although he understood the Colonel's reasoning, was still disappointed not to be going with them, and Hogan understood that. But the Colonel wanted…no, needed Kinch to keep him sane while the others were gone. He hated to admit, even to himself, that he was a nervous wreck whenever any of his men were outside camp, and especially if that man was Newkirk. The Englander had a way of finding trouble even when he didn't go looking for it, and that gave Hogan gray hairs.

Even on a mission as simple as this one, there was always the possibility a Kraut patrol might spot the plane and see the drop. But they needed those supplies.

So when nine p.m. rolled around, Newkirk, Carter, Hotchner and LeBeau climbed up the ladder, and left the tunnel via the tree stump entrance/exit above them. Once the lid was closed, Hogan sighed and put both hands on his slim hips.

"They'll be all right, Colonel," Kinch explained quietly studying his commanding officer's face as both men watched the quartet leave. He knew Hogan was worried and it showed on his face. "I mean, I know Hotchner's a new man, but Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau are old hands at this. They'll keep an eye on 'im while doing their job. And they're all gonna come back safe. So try not to worry."

The officer pursed his lips and glanced at his second-in-command. "Whenever Newkirk is involved all I do is worry. He's like a trouble magnet. Trouble has a way of finding him." He shook his head. "I just wish I didn't have this feeling something's gonna go wrong tonight."

Kinch studied Hogan for a few seconds. "Hotchner is inexperienced I know, sir, but he's cool under pressure, and thinks quickly in situations from what I've seen. And who knows? If he does well tonight, maybe we can use him on more missions. I'm gonna think positive if you don't mind, sir. Maybe you should too."

A slight smile appeared on the Colonel's face. He wrapped his arms around himself. "I sure hope you're right this time," he said.

It was just before ten p.m. when the four men hunkered down in a sparsely wooded area. Hotchner and LeBeau looked around, weapons in hand, keeping their eyes and ears open for any signs of German patrols. Newkirk and Carter, meanwhile, watched the sky for any sign on the plane. The men were dressed in their 'blacks,' being black pants and turtleneck sweaters, with grease smeared on their faces to help camouflage their appearances.

The sky was a bit overcast making viewing difficult but not impossible.

"Boy, I sure hope we can spot the plane when it signals," Carter commented squinting as he looked at the sky. "It's awful dark out."

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Blimey, Carter, stop lookin' at the negative side of things, will 'ya? We'll see the bleedin' plane."

Carter glanced at his best friend. "We'd better else that Kraut patrol we saw is gonna see the airdrop before we do. And boy, I'd hate to tell the Colonel we lost the supplies to a German patrol because we…."

"Y'know, Andrew…" Newkirk smirked staring at the younger man. "Sometimes you take all the bleedin' fun outta life."

Hotchner leaned toward the diminutive Frenchman standing next to him. "Are they always like this?" he whispered gesturing to Newkirk and Carter.

LeBeau snorted. "Qui. Pierre and Andre fight like…how do you Americans say…dogs and cats. But each would give his life to protect the other. Ils sont comme des freres."

"What?" asked Hotchner confused.

LeBeau rolled his eyes. "I said they are like brothers."

Hotchner nodded understanding finally. Suddenly, the roar of an airplane engine could be heard overhead. Newkirk tapped Carter's shoulder and then pointed up to the sky.

"There's the plane! Give the ruddy signal"

"Okay."

Carter, adjusting the flashlight in his hands, flashed white, blue, white to alert the plane. It wasn't long before the plane flashed its response: white three times to which the response was given. Shortly afterward, a parachute appeared with two small wooden crates one on top of the other attached, and began its descent. Within seconds, the crates struck the ground a short distance away from the men.

"C'mon!" Newkirk ordered as he and Carter rushed forward with the others behind them. Within seconds they all reached the crates with the parachute dangling from a low branch of a tree. With Hotchner and LeBeau standing watch, Newkirk quickly released the parachute, and helped Carter scan the crates. "Doesn't seem to be any damage," the Englander commented with a faint smile as he patted the top crate.

Everybody suddenly froze when there was the rustling sound in the foliage followed by the voices of Germans not too far away. Newkirk suspected that Kraut patrol they noticed earlier might have seen the parachute's descent. Hotchner and LeBeau turned in the direction from where the voices filtered, weapons aimed in front of them at the ready.

"Those are Germans," said a wide-eyed Carter staring in the direction from where the voices had come.

Newkirk glanced momentarily over his shoulder and then quickly grabbed the top crate which wasn't heavy. "It's amazin' how you always state the obvious, Andrew," he said sarcastically. "And you also better believe they ain't gonna welcome us with open arms when they get here," he added in a whisper. "So stop your natterin' and grab that other crate so we can get the ruddy hell outta here before the Krauts get here."

The young sergeant picked up the other crate, and followed Newkirk with Hotchner bringing up the rear and LeBeau in front leading them. The German voices were closer.

Suddenly a gunshot whizzed past Hotchner and struck the tree just behind his head. He swore softly at how close it came. Neither he nor LeBeau wanted to return fire as it would draw not only these Germans to their location, but might bring others as well. So they kept moving in the direction of the tree stump.

"Come!" a German voice ordered with authority. "This way! I heard a sound coming from this direction!" The men to whom the voices belong were getting closer.

"It's a good thing these bloody crates ain't heavy!" Newkirk said. "Step on it, Carter!" he urged moving faster.

"I'm stepping. I'm stepping," Carter huffed.

"Less talkin' and more walkin'," Newkirk muttered. "How much further, Louie?"

"A little bit further than normal since we had to take the long way, Mon Ami," the Frenchman replied without stopping. The four men kept moving ahead as quickly as they possibly could, mindful that the German patrol was close behind them.

Only a few short minutes later, the four-man patrol came into view scanning the sparse foliage before there was the sound of a snapping twig just ahead of them. Two of the guards at once aimed their rifles in the direction of the noise and fired. The four men grinned evilly when they heard a sound indicating at least one of the shots had hit its target.

"He's wounded! We have him now!" the one in charge shouted as the men ran in the direction Hogan's men had gone. "This way! We will finish him off before he gets away!"

The lead guard suddenly motioned for his men to stop, and knelt on one knee peering into the brush after he spotted something. He pointed in the distance. "There he is!" He then aimed his rifle carefully, and squeezing off a shot, hit his prey point-blank in the head. A smirk appeared seeing his victim fall to the ground. "I got him."

(End of Flashback)

Hotch wanted to keep reading but the knocking on his door made him pause. Growling at having to stop, he bent the edge of the page and hastily shoved the journal into his middle desk drawer. He grabbed his pen and pulled a case file close to him hoping he would look like he'd been working through lunch.

"Come in," he ordered looking up at the door, waiting.

(1) In military time, 2200 hours is ten p.m.