Hogan's Heroes

Copycat Spy

(A/N: Sorry about the wait, again. I was waiting for constructive criticism. I haven't gotten any which means the reviewers that usually offer it must be busy, but I don't really want to put this off any more. For those who might have missed an update, one was posted last week and the week before.)

One Man Or Three?

Hochstetter sat in his quarters, agitatedly scanning a group of papers. Nimrod, Nimrod, Nimrod; everywhere he looked Nimrod! He growled in frustration and threw the papers back into his briefcase. He poured himself a glass of Schnapps and took a sip. Just then he heard a knock. He paused and put his hand on his gun cautiously. "Enter," he called, turning around fully prepared to face whatever came through that door.

"Major Hochstetter?" the person asked, entering. He relaxed.

"Strauss, what is it?" Hochstetter demanded.

"Request permission to leave camp, sir," Strauss said.

"What for?" Hochstetter demanded.

Strauss hesitated then replied, "I received a letter, sir. From Corporal Schneider. He wants to come back."

"Bah! Deserters should be shot," Hochstetter answered.

"He is only hardly older than me, sir," Strauss protested. "Please Major, can you not let this one go?"

HH

Hochstetter guardedly summed up his Private. Questions were racing through his head. Case one, since when did Schneider begin bothering to write Strauss? Strauss was Schneider's preferred target, more often than not. The Corporal took a sort of delight in bullying the younger man. Case two, why would Strauss bother to be so concerned about his principle tormenter; enough so to approach him and beg to bring the young man back? Case three, the two young men had been meeting behind his back. They didn't think he'd noticed, but he had. Oh how he had. When his people started meeting behind his back he got suspicious. He knew Strauss's loyalty was to him alone, but something else wasn't ringing true.

"Very well, permission granted Strauss," Hochstetter finally replied. But don't think for a moment, child, that you won't be being followed. Something was wrong here. "Be sure though, Private, that Von Steinbrenner does not hear. That Dummkopf would probably start thinking you are Nimrod. Speaking of which, what have you picked up about the super-agent?"

"Nimrod? Nothing, sir, except that everyone is on edge, everyone searching, and Von Steinbrenner will soon host a mass execution if he does not get somewhere quickly in finding them," Strauss said.

"Them?" Hochstetter icily asked.

Strauss blushed then looked down, stammering, "Th-that is what the broadcast said. Surely you heard it, sir."

Hochstetter pursed his lips icily then replied, "Bah! All rumor and hearsay evidence. We do not deal in speculation."

"But Major, I thought…" Strauss began.

"Forget what you thought! Nimrod is one man and one alone! Idiots, any who believe otherwise. Nimrod is just clever enough to trick the weak minded so easily," Hochstetter said. "But I will not be fooled, Strauss. Raus, raus, raus. Raus schnell!" Quickly Strauss left the Major's quarters. Hochstetter pursed his lips. Perhaps tonight Klink and Burkhalter would actually prove useful.

HH

"Psst, Langenscheidt," Flood hissed, quietly reaching the Corporal.

Langenscheidt started and looked blankly at him. "Flood," Langenscheidt greeted. "What is it?"

"I know who Nimrod is," Flood hinted.

Langenscheidt caught his breath and paled, sharply looking at the young man. "What?" he demanded quickly.

"I know who Nimrod is," Flood repeated.

Langenscheidt was silent a long moment. Finally he replied doubtfully. "Do you now? Who is it and by what means do you know?"

"Deduction, mate. I'm a regular Sherlock Holmes. Haven't ya noticed how strange Strauss has been actin'? Patrolling the grounds, lost in his own little world. Why just earlier today a Kripo vehicle drove up and delivered a letter to his hands only. It spooked him that it did, and badly," Flood said.

"Strauss? Surely you jest with me prisoner," Langenscheidt said. "You expect me to believe that Hochstetter's pet is none other than the infamous Nimrod?"

"Trust me mate, I heard things. Strauss didn't know he was bein' watched, but I heard things," Flood hinted.

Langenscheidt was silent. Finally he suspiciously asked, "Why would you betray your own?"

"Are ya kiddin' me govna? Have you heard the price on his head? Four-million marks is a lot of money." Langenscheidt cringed. It was at that. And Burkhalter seemed to be so sure Nimrod was here. Could it be true…? Oh if it was he would be a rich man! His smile fell uncertainly. But he'd come to like Strauss well enough. Betrayal didn't sit well with him either. What if it wasn't true anyway? What would happen to Strauss if he was turned in as Nimrod? This required some looking into. He could test the waters first, see if Flood was correct in his assumption. Now the greatest question of all. If Strauss was Nimrod, would he turn him in? He shifed uncomfortably, because the odds were he wouldn't. Just the thrill of solving the long puzzled over mystery was enough to get him excited.

"I thought you liked Strauss," Langenscheidt remarked.

Flood's smile fell and he cringed. After a moment he replied, "I do, well enough, but think of it mate. Riches, glory, riches. He's leavin' camp tonight. I can help you bring him in. I know where he's goin' and how to get in. Overheard it."

Langenscheidt tossed the idea around. There were so many questions and inconsistencies that he shouldn't believe it for a moment. Finally he replied, his judgement finally being clouded by the thought of solving the wars greatest mystery, "All right." The two men walked away from the building

HH

From around the corner Von Steinbrenner emerged, an amused look in his eyes. So, Strauss could be Nimrod, hmm. They would soon find out. But wait, what if Nimrod was truly three agents, as the broadcast had said. Hold on… Langenscheidt and Flood! Langenscheidt had no excuse to take a prisoner out of camp without permission. He could be shot for the offense, so why was he risking it? As for Flood… He'd seemed eager to turn suspicion from himself. Too eager. Perhaps… could it be that those three boys were none other than the nefarious Nimrod?!

Von Steinbrenner grinned coldly. He would soon find out. He would tail them tonight, with his officers. When they were unaware he would pounce, and they would have Nimrod in the palm of their hands at last! Chuckling darkly he turned and walked off.

HH

Klink scanned through his prisoner files, both past and present. That young man who had been with Langenscheidt and Strauss… He'd seen him before. Where? He paused at a file and looked at it. His eyes widened. "Sergeant Malcolm Flood!" he exclaimed aloud, paling. But Flood had been taken away by the Gestapo, death his imminent fate! How was it that he had come to be back in Stalag 13 unless… Unless he had escaped Gestapo clutches. Klink nearly whooped for joy. He could turn the young man in and get the respect he earned, but wait! There was a better idea. Why not keep him here under wraps? When this war ended, he and he alone could boast that he had held the greatest escape artist of the war prisoner in Stalag 13! When all other stalag's had failed, and even the Gestapo wasn't enough, he had held him. No escapes from Stalag 13. He would be glorified to no end!

"Colonel Klink!" a voice suddenly shot. Klink started and looked sharply up.

"General Von Steinbrenner?" Klink asked.

"No doubts you have heard the broadcast," the man declared.

"Broadcast, what broadcast?" Klink asked simply, looking clueless.

"The one about Nimrod," the man replied.

Klink scoffed and asked, "The one that claims Nimrod is three men? Don't be ridiculous. As if anyone is falling for that."

"What do you mean?" Von Steinbrenner asked, obviously taken aback by the response.

"Well isn't it obvious? Nimrod is certainly clever enough to set up such a rumor. How much easier will it be for him when the SS is looking for three separate men? Anyone who believes that nonsense is a complete and utter idiot," Klink said.

"I believe it," Von Steinbrenner growled.

Klink sat, deflating, and asked, "You do?"

"Yes," Von Steinbrenner replied.

"B-but sir, surely you can't be serious. Nimrod more than one? It's impossible. All the evidence points to one man, and the evidence that points to three is so obviously just a set-up to convince the Gestapo Nimrod is a trio… Well surely the Kripo is more observant than that," Klink said meekly.

Von Steinbrenner started and was about to reply uncertainly when suddenly a voice from outside began calling, "Help, help! Man down!" Klink and Von Steinbrenner gasped and leapt up, hurrying out.

HH

Wilson gently lowered the Kripo officer to the ground as he called, "Help, help! Man down!" He quickly hid away the needle before anyone saw.

"Sergeant Wilson, what is going on out here?" Klink demanded from the door to his headquarters. Von Steinbrenner was with him. Good.

"Sir, he just collapsed. I have no clue what's wrong. I need to keep him under observation. With your permission of course, General Von Steinbrenner," Wilson quickly said, playing the part of the efficient and level headed doctor he was.

"What next?" Von Steinbrenner asked. "Very well, take him and go."

"Schultz, Strauss, take the officer to sick bay with Sergeant Wilson," Klink ordered.

"Jawohl Herr Kommandant!" they both saluted, quickly moving to obey.

"Klink, until next time," Von Steinbrenner said. He saluted then marched off. He had some suspects to prepare to tail anyway. Or perhaps he wouldn't even need to. He would soon be having a little 'talk' with Private Strauss after all. He would need to be careful. If Major Hochstetter caught him roughing up his favorite, heads would roll; namely his, and literally at that. He would be lucky if the Major didn't display it as a trophy once it was removed.