Chapter Nine: Putting Some Pieces Together
Hogan stared at the conference table where they had spread out several objects. Kinch, LeBeau and Carter were standing around, curiously watching their colonel's movements.
"All right," Hogan said. "Kinch, you're the duct tape, Carter is the screwdriver, Newkirk is the pliers and LeBeau is the box of thumb tacks"
Kinch and Carter could not help but laughing. LeBeau smirked. "Very funny," he said. "And what are you, sir?"
"Me," Hogan grinned proudly, "I'm the silver dollar coin."
"Typical," Kinch voiced the others' opinion.
"May I be the pliers? I don't feel like a screwdriver."
"Carter, it's just for illustrative reasons, okay?" Hogan straightened up so that the others could see the table. "This is the tunnel we were working in the day of the accident. I want you to place your tokens on the exact point you were at the moment of the explosion."
"I was here, Newkirk was next to me." Carter put the screwdriver and the pliers together. "I started heading to the exit and Newkirk was behind me."
"I came this way and turned for a second." Kinch put the duct tape on his place.
"LeBeau and I were very near the exit." Hogan frowned. "The explosives were here. Kinch and Newkirk were closer, then Carter." He leaned back to think about something.
"What is it, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.
"When we arrived at the hospital, who took your case, LeBeau?"
"A nurse," he smiled. "Lorelei."
"The blond one? Me too," Hogan grinned. "How about you, Carter?"
"A nurse too, six foot-three, the shoulders of a tank... Some guy named Fritz." Carter shrugged.
Hogan nodded as he knew he was getting somewhere. "Kinch?"
"Doctor... König," he shook his head. "I don't remember his face, though. I was still a little groggy."
"That was the one who talked to me about Newkirk's surgery." Hogan began to pace around. "It seems to me that we were separated by the extension of our injuries. Only Kinch and Newkirk merited a doctor."
"But Newkirk had only a sprained ankle and they took him in for surgery." Carter insisted. "He wasn't badly injured at all. He pulled me out of the tunnel."
"My nurse asked all sorts of questions. Where I was from... Age and... How long I had been in Stalag thirteen." Hogan looked at the others. "I thought she was coming onto me."
"Yeah, I felt the same way with my nurse," said Carter. "I was ready to run for the door."
"Too many personal questions," LeBeau agreed.
Hogan sat down again. "Newkirk has been a POW the longest..."
"They questioned us to corroborate that." Kinch nodded, understanding the situation all of a sudden. "They weren't quite concerned about our injuries; they were choosing the most likely candidate."
"Candidate for what?" LeBeau frowned.
"Brainwashing!" Carter slammed one hand on the table.
"But why Newkirk? For being the prisoner with more years in the Stalag?" LeBeau asked.
"He's the most likely to know what's been going on here from the beginning," Hogan said. "They took advantage of a mild injury to keep him in the hospital." He sighed suddenly. "They opened the doors for Carter and me that night. Getting in and out was too easy... They wanted us to see him before they began to work on him."
"That's not good, they who?" Kinch asked.
"Good question. Someone who thinks he knows something but he's not quite sure yet," Hogan shrugged.
"This whole situation is giving me goose bumps."
"Yeah, me too," Carter seconded Kinch.
"Moi aussi," LeBeau raised his hand with them.
Carter stared at Hogan, lost in thoughts. The colonel was thinking hard on the situation; maybe harder than in other occasions. Under normal circumstances, they would just move things around, crack some jokes on the goons that were trying to bust them and that would be it. But this time, there was one of them involved. A member of their team had been personally caught up in their nefarious plans. That was enough to put everybody's world upside down.
"Colonel," Carter said, "you said something about protecting ourselves from Newkirk."
Hogan gave him and the others a kind look. Since the day he started recruiting men for his operations, he knew this was the most special team he would ever work with. They were closer than family. They would give their lives for each other without hesitation. That was what made things more difficult. Whether he was wrong about Newkirk or not, the damage was already done. His clockwork team had been broken, and he would not be able to fix it until he knew exactly where Newkirk was in all this.
"Something happened to Newkirk these last couple of days. It's clear that he was interrogated somehow." Hogan looked at his office, where Newkirk was asleep. "I want to believe that he didn't talk, but until we're sure, we have to assume that our security has been compromised. If they got Newkirk it's because they had suspicions."
"Or worse," LeBeau said. "They could know about us already."
"Anyway, we have to watch him. Make him see that he's safe with us," Hogan said. At the same time, if we've been compromised I may have to put our evacuation plan into action. I just hope it doesn't come to that! he thought, though unfortunately he knew that he couldn't dismiss the possibility.
"How? He doesn't trust us," Carter said.
"He acts as though we were the enemy." Kinch shook his head. "I don't want to imagine what they could have possibly done to him."
"I suppose the first step is to make him see that we're us for real. You can talk to him, get him back to our normal routine. But be cautious. Whoever is behind this, they can't be too far away. They didn't bring back Newkirk just because Klink made some phone calls."
"Wow, they could be watching us right now, they could find out about our tunnels and everything else!" Carter looked at Hogan.
"Don't be such an alarmist," LeBeau said. "There are no wires in here. How could they see us or hear us?"
Hogan did not laugh with LeBeau and Kinch. He was really concerned. "Through Newkirk's eyes and ears..."
"What are you saying, sir?" Kinch asked.
"I can't help having this feeling that Newkirk's not quite back with us yet." Hogan shook his head. "We won't leave him alone. Keep your eyes open about anything peculiar happening in the Stalag. Especially, we'll keep as quiet as possible about the current mission. As we are concerned, Newkirk is out of the team until I say so."
Kinch, LeBeau and Carter did not say anything, although their faces spoke for their frustration and concern.
HHH
"Where is Corporal Newkirk?"
Frakes kept the phone away from his ear. Major Hochstetter did not have any problem about making himself heard at the other side of the wire. There was no doubt that he was extremely mad at the moment.
"There's been too much noise about this experiment; officers began to ask the same question. I had to get the corporal back to Stalag thirteen."
"You what? What officers are you talking about?"
"First, Colonel Klink and later, General Burkhalter. He was very clear about finding the prisoner expeditiously." Frakes breathed deeply. "POW camps are preparing for Red Cross inspection in two weeks."
"And you could not keep the prisoner for much longer? He saw me at the laboratory!"
"He doesn't remember you, sir. I made sure of that." Frakes grinned. "Right now, he has more important things on his mind. We're right on schedule."
"It's good that you mention that word. There is a timetable to complete. If you can't come up with the answers, we'll discard your project altogether."
"I'm doing what you asked me to do." He resented Hochstetter's ultimatum. He hated working with ultimatums. Science should not be rushed. "I'm working on the subject with all I've got. Results will come in soon."
"You'd better be right on this one. Or heads will roll... Yours first!"
"Do not fear, Major. You've been a great supporter, I won't let you down."
"I'll make sure that this is so. Berlin's meeting is taking longer than expected. That doesn't mean that I won't be watching you, Frakes."
The click was loud. Frankes shrugged. "Sure, I'm shaking in my knickers." He stood up and took a deep breath. Military! He thought. What did they know about making war with new drugs? They only cared for destruction. Scientists cared for creation, discovery... In just a few more hours, he would come up with more answers than Major Hochstetter would ever imagine.
HHH
"One more time." The voice was like cold water in a winter morning. It hurt and took Newkirk's breath away. "Klondike comes at seven."
"S-seven?" Newkirk was surprised that he could still talk. He was so tired that he could barely move. He put all his energy to work and chuckled. "Morning or night? See?" He breathed as deeply as he could. "That's why military invented the 'undreds..."
"Where is the rendezvous point?"
Ruddy darkness... "One is one, two is two... three is three..." He closed his eyes. "Four is four..."
"Don't oppose resistance; it will only hurt you more." The voice came closer and then, farther. "Let's work on the names, who's Klondike?"
Newkirk giggled. "That's a good question... A Solitaire game... You 'ave seven cards..."
He felt a hand clapping his shoulder. Hard. The voice was in his ear now. "Cleverness is nice, but it doesn't take you anywhere. Answer the questions and you'll be heading home."
"Feet first, innit?"
"Who is Klondike?" There was no more volume, but the voice sounded stronger. "You don't know? Maybe something easier... Who is Papa Bear?"
Newkirk gulped. Where was the bloody light? It is too dark in here. He shuddered. He hoped his interrogator would not have noticed that. He calmed down before opening his mouth. "One in the afternoon is thirteen 'undred 'ours... two is fourteen 'undred... three is-" Another needle entered his arm. Pain crawled throughout his veins. He almost lost control of his thoughts. "Four is sixteen 'undred 'ours!" he screamed.
"Knave of hearts..." a female voice soothed him. Newkirk kept his eyes close, expecting more pain. "Knave of hearts." The voice was louder. "Knave of hearts, Knave of hearts. Knave of hearts!"
Newkirk opened his eyes to the yelling and a bright light penetrated sharply in his retinas. He shut his eyes again, but not for long. There was another picture of a familiar face in the screen. He had to struggle to avoid saying his name aloud. Hogan. He shuddered. He should not talk. He should keep quiet... Papa Bear is Hogan... Hogan is Papa Bear... Not a word... Pain... Pain... Shut your mouth... shut your bloody mouth... Pain will keep you quiet...
"The King of Hearts beat the Knave full sore..." the female voice whispered into Newkirk's ears. "The Knave vowed he'd steal no more..."
"Corporal Newkirk!" Hogan's voice resounded in Newkirk's ears. "You've let me and your friends down for the last time; such a disgrace to your uniform... "
Newkirk shook his head. Think on something else... songs... poems... What's that noise? A number... a number? Four-seven... can't hear it... six... was that a three or a two?
Three...
No...
Two...
Three or two... make up your bloody mind! Three-
"Two!"
Newkirk sat up. He was awake... Was he? He could barely breathe. Dark. It was still dark. But it was not the same room. He had been dreaming. This was the Stalag... Which one? It did not matter anymore. "T'was just a dream...," he smiled.
"You don't sleep much lately, do you?" That voice froze his veins. He wondered if he should answer this time. His eyes got used to the dark. Someone was sitting at the desk. Hogan. "You don't have to talk, Newkirk. I know you were having a nightmare."
"'Ow long 'ave you been there?"
"Long enough." Hogan turned to him. His eyes were cold and somber. "Long enough to hear you betraying your friends!"
Newkirk crawled back. "I didn't. You're wrong... T-they tried but-"
"You let me down, Newkirk... You let down all your friends... Tell me, Newkirk, what does it feel like, being the traitor on this team?"
Newkirk covered his ears with his hands and closed his eyes. "It's just a dream... It's just a dream!"
At the other side of the door, Carter was the first to jump off his bunk. LeBeau sat up and Kinch got up. Hogan opened his eyes but he did not move.
"Shouldn't we doing something?" Carter said to the darkness.
"I think that we'd better let him be," Hogan said, guessing that the young sergeant was heading for his office.
"But, he-"
"Newkirk needs room to figure things out."
"He needs his friends," LeBeau said.
"At this point, he doesn't see us as friends. We might hurt him more than help him. We might stress him out more than calm him down." Hogan sat up. "But we'll try to talk to him in the morning, all right?"
"All right," Carter said reluctantly. "But I don't know how we will ever know what happened if he doesn't talk to us about it."
"Don't despair. Give him some time, he's just got here." Hogan leaned his back against the wall. He could not go back to sleep.
Kinch did not say a word. He was used to listening to the colonel and obeying his commands. Hogan knew what he was talking about. Most of the time. If Newkirk needed their help, they would know sooner or later. With some luck he would open up before they could not do much in order to help him.
Hogan waited until Carter and LeBeau lied down again for him to do the same. He hoped that his assessment of the situation was the right one. Life at war was a gamble and he hated to play with his men's lives. Hopefully, things would look better in the morning. He would get some answers from Newkirk and the team would get ready to receive agent Klondike. Then, things will go back to normal around here.
Newkirk awoke at the same time as the rest of the boys in Barracks two. He looked at them warily, trying to catch them in the lie. They were so good. They acted the same, the even joked the same. He could not spot any differences from the real Stalag... his Stalag. Could it be possible that he was actually back? He lined up for roll call, avoiding eye contact with everybody but one. Hogan was surprised to see what looked like an attempt to his corporal reaching out. He nodded to Newkirk's smirk.
Carter and Kinch stared from behind. Carter shook his head. "Boy, it's like living with a stranger," he whispered.
"Technically, we all are strangers here, Carter," Kinch shrugged. "We didn't know about each other before we got stuck in this camp."
A drizzle announced rain for the rest of the day. Klink came out of his office, followed by an aide with an umbrella. Heavy drops of water began to rattle on the ceilings of the barracks and the Kommandantur. The kommandant wanted to walk faster but he had to wait for the umbrella to catch up. If he stopped, the aide stopped right behind him. Klink was getting wet. Finally, he snatched the umbrella from his aide. He turned to the prisoners and stepped on a puddle accidentally.
"Schultz, report!" he yelled while shaking the water off his boots.
Newkirk raised an eyebrow. It seemed impossible that they would replace that man just to confuse him. Plus, here he was in the flesh, instead of hiding in his office. "Blimey! That's Colonel Klink, innit?" he whispered.
"Who were you expecting, Manfred von Richthofen?" [1] Hogan looked at him. The Englishman's expression had softened all of a sudden.
"I could kiss you, Colonel Hogan." Newkirk widely smiled.
"Not in front of the troops," Hogan said. He breathed with a sigh of relief. He turned to see Carter and Kinch. They were smiling as well as LeBeau, who tapped Newkirk's arm with affection.
The group was so happy to see their friend coming back at last, that they didn't notice one of the young replacements staring intently at them. There was no satisfaction in his malicious eyes. Instead, he seemed to be rather concerned. He wrote down some notes on a piece of paper and put it away quickly. That British corporal was regaining control of the situation too fast. This isn't good news for Frakes- not good news at all.
[1] The Red Baron
