Chapter 9---The Struggle Within

Hogan awoke with a start. He felt sick to his stomach. Must have been the sandwich he ate and the water he drank. He really hadn't wanted the sandwich but he wanted what Captain Diels had in his possession more. Looking down, he noticed the plate that had been sitting on his body was gone and so was the glass that had been on the nightstand. He tried to get up, but his limbs felt so heavy. He didn't feel like he could move at all.

Looking up, he noticed his arms were manacled again. Also, his right arm hurt. Hogan recalled his right arm was in which he was receiving the injections. What did the Captain tell him he was giving him? It was something which made him feel better; that was it. But what was it? Hogan wished he could just remember. It was something that started with an 'H'. Why couldn't he remember what it was? The Colonel felt he should be able to remember. After all, he received another shot right after he finished his meal hours ago, and then his legs were unmanacled and he was allowed to use the bathroom. Funny he couldn't remember having his legs unmanacled or using the bathroom.

Hogan wished he knew what was making his right arm hurt. Perhaps Diels didn't know how to properly give an injection. He just wished he could remember what it was he was being given. He just felt so strange after he received an injection. The Colonel only knew afterwards he felt happy, even if it didn't last long. Suddenly he raised his head as it came to him what it was he was being given.

Diels had been giving him heroin; trying to get him hooked so he will spill his guts. Heroin! Hogan knew he had to get out of here before he willingly revealed everything. But how could he do that? He tried straining against the manacles binding his arms and legs, but neither would give. Somehow, Hogan believed even if his limbs weren't restrained, he wouldn't have been able to move. He rubbed his watery eyes, nose, and fell back on the bed. He was so tired, and his arm hurt a lot.

Before long, Hogan fell asleep. And then the dreams started again.


"Are you Papa Bear?" the voice asked for the third time.

Colonel Hogan didn't respond. Instead, he remained on the floor curled up in a ball staring at nothing. He didn't recognize the voice speaking to him. It didn't even sound like it was human. He wiped at his watery eyes and continued staring at nothing.

"Answer the question, Colonel Hogan. Are you Papa Bear?"

Hogan's eyes darted around even though he didn't move his head. Where was he? Other than lying on a wooden floor, the room had a door, a window, and what appeared to be a double bunk bed. What was this place? He slightly moved his head. For some reason it looked familiar to him.

"Colonel Hogan, I will ask you one last time. Are you Papa Bear?" The voice sounded angry and impatient.

The Colonel whimpered as he tightly wrapped his arms around himself and began running his hands up and down his arms. He was cold and sweating at the same time. And he was hurting everywhere. The cramps were so bad he couldn't stand it.

"I see you are going to have to be punished, Colonel," the voice said. The voice was now strangely familiar. Where had he heard it before?

The door opened and Captain Diels walked in. Hogan's eyes tried to focus on him but couldn't. He pulled a syringe containing a white, milky substance in it from inside his uniform jacket pocket. He held it up so Hogan could see it. He smirked when Hogan, his eyes on the syringe, started dragging himself forward towards Diels.

"Sorry, Colonel Hogan, but you must be punished because you didn't answer my question. Therefore…" Diels suddenly drew back his arm and threw the syringe against the far wall where it shattered into a dozen pieces; the milky substance spilling down the wall.

"Noooooooo!" Hogan screamed as he dragged himself to where the pieces of the syringe were on the floor. Dragging himself to his knees, he desperately began picking up all the pieces and frantically looked to see if any of them had any remnants of the white substance on them. He ran his finger over each piece. His head turned towards Diels, tears running down his face.

"Why?" he asked, slurring. "What will I do now?" He let the pieces of glass fall to the floor and put his hands on his thighs and bowed his head. "I hurt so badly." He looked up again. "Why did you do that?"

Diels smirked. "You did not answer my question. So to punish you, I will not make you feel better. I will let you suffer several hours just to teach you a lesson. You must learn not to refuse a friend."

Hogan's head tossed from side-to-side. He had became restless. The dream continued.

Hogan wrapped his arms around himself again and doubled over as the cramps became worse. He turned toward Diels. "Help me," he begged. "It hurts. Help me!" He was stunned when Diels turned his back and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

"You promised me!" Hogan said to the air around him as he lay down on the wood floor and curled up into a ball again. "It hurts so much…."

"Nooooooo!!!" Hogan screamed sitting up in bed. He was sweating profusely. He frantically looked around; for what he didn't know, but he somehow believed he would know what he was looking for when he saw it. He looked at the door when it opened.

Captain Diels stood in the doorway with a blank expression on his face.

"I heard you downstairs, Colonel Hogan." He held up the syringe so the Colonel could see it. "I believe this is what you were screaming for?"


Hochstetter slammed his fist down on the desk in the study. Having arrived at the home of Captain Diels he had spent the last several hours searching every room, every stick of furniture in the small apartment. He even removed pictures hanging on the wall and removed them from their frames and searched the frames as well as the pictures and paintings in them themselves. So far he had found nothing that would tell him where Diels had taken Hogan. He had even searched the desk he had just slammed his fist on and found nothing. In fact, he was about to leave when a thought occurred to him. He glanced back at the desk. He started pulling the desk drawers out completely and examining them to see if perhaps something might be hidden beneath them.

He suddenly grinned when he pulled out the last drawer. There, on the bottom, was taped a key. Hochstetter quickly removed it, replaced the drawer, and examined the key. It definitely was a house key. He quickly took his keys from his pocket and found the one he had used to enter Diels home and compared them. They were definitely not the same. This told Hochstetter that this key might be to another residence or building. The Gestapo Major could hardly contain his growing excitement. Now if he could only find this other place, perhaps he would find Diels and Hogan. He picked up the phone and immediately instructed the operator to connect him with Gestapo headquarters in Hammelburg. Once connected, he asked to speak with Captain Fuchs.

"Captain Fuchs."

"Captain, Hochstetter here. I'm calling from Captain Diels apartment. I found a key taped to the bottom of one of the desk drawers in his study. Did the Captain ever discuss or mention anything about having another residence? He didn't. No, I'm sorry as well. I will have to continue searching. How are you coming with the receipts? I see. Well, continue with them. If you find anything promising, you have my permission to pursue it. Just keep me informed. Ja. Very good, Captain. Auf Wiedershen. Heil Hitler." He hung up the phone, tucked the key inside his inner coat pocket, and left the apartment to continue in his search.


Captain Fuchs pinched the bridge of his nose as he continued looking through the receipts. He had decided it would be easier to first break them down into individual groups according to restaurant and then see which restaurant Diels had visited most often. He was frantic about Colonel Hogan and could only secretly pray the American was still alive. He shuddered thinking about what would happen if Diels was indeed doing what he suspected he was doing to the Colonel.

What if he was using one of the drugs on Hogan and he died as had all the others. Fuchs knew he would mourn the Colonel's death as would Hogan's men. And would Hogan's operation be allowed to continue without him or with someone else leading? Fuchs didn't want to think about Hogan not being around.

But what if Hogan somehow survived and was hopelessly addicted to whatever drug he was being given? It was another possibility Fuchs didn't want to think about. If surviving and becoming addicted, Fuchs knew Hogan would be likely to reveal everything he knew for relief from the agony he'd endure when the drug was being withheld from him. And if Hogan started to talk, Fuchs feared he might reveal his identity as Bluebird. And he knew Hochstetter would see he died immediately and very ugly.

With a sigh, Fuchs returned to the receipts. Whatever the outcome, he was positive about only one thing, and that was finding Colonel Hogan hopefully alive.


Hogan, the sweat pouring down his face, stared at Diels as if he couldn't believe he was actually standing there. He coughed and began to twitch nervously.

"You came back," he said slurring his words. "You walked out on me and left me in pain. Why did you do that to me? Why are you doing this to me?"

"It's very simple, Colonel. To answer your first question, it's because you broke the rules. And to answer you second question, because you are worthy of this new technique." Even though Diels had no idea what Hogan had been dreaming, he suspected from Hogan's words and reaction to his presence that it had something to do with what was in the syringe. He figured he could use that. The Colonel was losing his battle to resist after eleven injections in three days. He figured one more day and Hogan would spill his guts willingly.

"No…" Hogan cried. "Don't do this to me. Please. You can't do this."

"Colonel Hogan, tell me one thing. How many men live in barracks two? It's a simple question."

"Why? What do you want from me? Tell me what you want from me?"

I want to know how many men are in your barracks?" Diels twirled the syringe between his thumb and forefinger. "Just answer the question."

"No. Don't do this." Hogan fell back on the bed, anguished. "Don't do this. Don't do this." He kept repeating.

"How many men share barracks two, Colonel?"

Hogan, struggle as he did, found himself eyeing the syringe. "Fifteen," he replied wondering why he answered the question when he didn't want to.

Diels approached the bed with a smirk. He rolled up Hogan's sleeve and jabbed the syringe in his arm." Hogan turned his head away when Diels did this and squeezed his eyes shut. Try as hard as he could to fight it, he couldn't stop the euphoria he felt afterwards.


Kinch put on his headset the moment the radio came to life. Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau were with him.

"This is Papa Bear, Goldilocks. Go ahead."

"Stand by for General Butler, Papa Bear," the contact said.

"Papa Bear, this is General Butler. I'm afraid I don't have good news for you. We have been in touch with all our contacts and operatives, even Nimrod. Nobody has learned anything of the whereabouts of Colonel Hogan and this Gestapo Captain. I'm sorry."

"So are we, General," Kinch replied with a deep sigh. "We were hoping there would be some news."

"But we will have our people continue looking," the General promised. He could hear the hopelessness and helplessness in Kinch's voice. He knew Hogan's unit must be beside themselves with worry just as he was. Hogan was a good man and too valuable to lose as was his operation. And Butler was not about to give up; not yet anyway.

"Thanks, General. We appreciate any help you can give at this point."

"Have you given any further thought to shutting down the operation and evacuating the camp, Papa Bear?"

"Yes, General, and we're still not ready to do that yet. Not until we know the whereabouts of Colonel Hogan and whether or not he's alive. But, we will let you know if we change our minds, sir."

"Just don't wait too long. Goldilocks out."

"Papa Bear out." Kinch, removing the headset, tossed it on the table and let out a deep breath. He looked at the others. He could read their emotions, which were the same as his.

"Kinch, where is he?" asked LeBeau, fighting back tears.

Newkirk wrapped an arm around the Frenchman's shoulders. "He's alive, Louie," he said, trying to convince himself as well. "He's out there somewhere and he's still alive. I feel it in me bones."

"I just wish we knew something," Carter added. "It's the not knowing that's killing me more than anything."

Kinch didn't reply. He was only hoping that Newkirk's words were true and that Hogan was still alive. He had to be alive. Kinch couldn't allow himself to think anything else.