Author's Note: I don't own Hogan's Heroes. This is a fictional story any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.
Carter tried not to flinch, "Technical Sergeant Andre…" Lutzen cut him off by seizing him by his jacket lapels, "You...you are Papa Bear!"
He dragged Carter over to the chair Jocelyn was in and used the blade that was still in his hand to cut her free. Lutzen pushed her off the chair and shoved Carter into the chair and proceeded to bind him. Carter looked up, catching the eyes of the frightened women. He glanced at the stairs and gave her the slightest of nods. She glanced over to Lutzen, who was digging in his bag, she contemplated her next move. She knew she should run, just leave the American and run...but instead she moved quietly to Wilburt's crumpled up form. She sighed in relief when she found him alive.
"I have something special for you." Lutzen said, chuckling, "Even the Englander didn't get such special treatment, but the notorious Papa Bear shall get the best." He pulled a small thin wire from his bag and slid it around his prisoner's wrists and neck. He noticed Carter's puzzled look and his lips turned up cruelly. "Now, we're ready to begin." He grabbed the scalpel that he was going to use on Jocelyn and set the tip on Carter's shoulder, "The more you fight..." he pushed down, drawing blood and a pained gasp, "The more you move..." he slid the blade down the length of the American's arm, "The more you cut your own throat."
Jocelyn stared in horror. Carter had started to squirm causing a small cut to form around his neck and, she felt sure, there was a cut around his wrists. She knew that if either cut got too deep, Carter would bleed out in minutes. She looked around frantically, but what could she do with her hands bound behind her back?
She knelt down beside Wilburt's form and tried to bring him around, her whispers covered by Carter's cries of pain.
"I wonder if you'll be as bull-headed as the Englander?" Lutzen spoke as casually as if he were asking the time of day. "He was full of spirit. Oh, the insults he hurled at me." Lutzen pushed the blade through Carter's thigh, causing his victim to jump. "Careful!" he twisted the end of his mustache, "You wouldn't want to end my fun so soon, would you?"
"You're sick." Carter croaked out, his breathing labored. He was in so much pain. This is what Newkirk went through. He thought, at least now he knew why the Englishman had nightmares.
Lutzen tutted in disappointment, "I expected better than that from Papa Bear." He dug in his bag for another tool, "I think I have it just about figured out… How about you tell me how much I have right, hmm?"
Carter glared, "Technical Sergeant Carter, Andrew J..."
"35-598-115….Yes, I know." Lutzen nodded, his patience growing thin, "What I don't get is why Hogan isn't in charge?" Carter didn't answer. "You, the Englander, and the little Frenchmen are all prisoners of Stalag Thirteen, but Hogan doesn't seem to know anything about it." he studied his prisoner, hoping to find some sign...some giveaway. "Why is that, I wonder? Lack of trust, maybe?"
Carter closed his eyes and attempted to block out Lutzen's questions. I won't give anything away. I won't give them up. He chanted to himself as he tried to ignore the pain from a steel blade slicing up his side. His mind was starting to drift.
Lutzen cursed. The weak idiot was blacking out. He walked over to the table and grabbed the bucket of water he'd used to clean his tools. Lutzen started to throw the entire bucket on his face, but stopped realizing that it would cause the American to flail around and that would end his session. He turned and spotted the girl attempting to rouse his corporal. He set the bucket down and walked over to her.
Jocelyn turned when she heard him, backing away, she shook her head, "No, don't…Please…" He reached down and tore the sleeve of her blouse using the bloody scalpel to remove it from her arm. Lutzen then went back to his prisoner, wet down the sleeve, and applied it to Carter's forehead and the back of his neck. "Come on, my friend…" he whispered into Carter's ear, "I'm not through with you yet."
1*********************************************1
"There is no one here, Kommandant."
Klink glared at Hogan, who turned white. If Carter isn't here… where is he? Hogan thought, then grabbed the sergeant's arm, "Did you look everywhere? In the cellar?"
Schultz's brows furrowed together, "There is no cellar."
"Of course there's a cellar!" Hogan snapped as he pushed his way into the house. When he stepped into the living room, he noticed the kept look. Someone's been staying here. He thought absently, making his way into the kitchen. Klink and Schultz were on his heels as he stopped at the cellar door. "See?"
Schultz just shook his head, "Nein, it is locked."
"Dummkopf!" Klink yelled, "Open it." Schultz motioned to one of the camp guards to join him in trying to open the door. They rammed their shoulders into the door but it didn't flinch. Hogan noticed that both the door and the lock looked new. His jaw clenched grimly when he realized what that meant. If Carter is hurt in any way… his thoughts trailed off as he looked around for anything with which to open the door.
Klink noticed him and absently wondered what he was doing. Then an idea came to him and in an exasperated tone, he gave Hogan a command, "Hogan, call down to him… tell him to give up."
Hogan payed no attention to him, instead he snapped his fingers and went back to the living room. Klink followed him, complaining about his prisoners, why couldn't they just do as they were told and forget the silly notion of escape? Hogan bumped into him on his way back to the kitchen with the fireplace poker, "Get out of the way, Kommandant."
Klink's eyes widened at the order and the urgency in his prisoner's voice. Hogan pushed passed him and motioned for Schultz and the guard to step aside. He ran his hand along the door frame, until he found the weakest spot. Shoving the poker into the side of the door, he attempted to use it like a crowbar. Hogan pushed hard and almost grinned when he heard the door groan, "Come on." he muttered, pushing harder.
Schultz joined him and the added force splintered the wood around the lock. The door swung inward and Hogan didn't even think before rushing down the steps. A bullet hit the wall in front of him. Hogan scrambled back, causing him to lose his balance and slide the rest of the way down the steps.
"Stop that shooting!" Klink screeched from the top of the steps, "Schultz, don't just stand there, do something."
The portly sergeant stared at him with eyes wide, he pointed at himself, "M-m-me, Kommandant?"
Klink glared at him as second and third shots were heard, "Get down those steps!"
"But…he has a gun." Schultz pleaded with his superior, who rolled his eyes and pointed to the sergeant's rifle. The guard swallowed hard and started down the steps, before Hogan hollered up to him,"Schultz, stay put."
Jocelyn had scrambled over to Hogan as soon as he'd reached the bottom of the steps, and she was now positioned behind him in his attempt to shield her. Hogan discreetly pointed up the steps and whispered, "I'll draw his fire and you get up those steps."
"But…" she started to protest, but Hogan cut her off by running to the table. She saw Lutzen turn his attention to Hogan. The German fired two more shots at him, as she scrambled up the steps and into the shocked arms of Schultz.
"You've got to help them…Lutzen is mad." she cried, dissolving into tears.
Hogan tried to flatten himself against the wall. A Lugar has eight shots, he thought trying to remember how many shots the general had left. Three, he should only have three left.
"Hogan." Lutzen called out, "How interesting… Papa Bear and I were just speaking about you."
Papa Bear? Hogan thought, confused. He looked up and saw Lutzen standing in front of him about two meters away. "You Americans are clever. Hochstetter was so focused on you, that the real leader could operate without notice." He motioned for Hogan to stand, "I don't know how you found me, but you will be sorry."
Hogan looked passed Lutzen's shoulder and saw Schultz attempting to sneak down the cellar steps. If he could just keep Lutzen's focus on him, "I won't be sorry. I'm not the one who murdered a subordinate." The words had the desired effect, as Lutzen's face turned purple with anger,
"It wasn't murder, he was a plant for the underground." he snapped.
Hogan studied him, Yup…the man has lost it. Hogan tried to goad him further, but unfortunately Schultz took that moment to fall through the tread of the last step. The guard cried out in pain as his ankle twisted and he pitched forward. When Lutzen spun to face his newest threat, Hogan saw his chance and lunged forward.
His right hand clasped around Lutzen's gun and his other arm went around the general's neck in a tight hold. Lutzen tried to shake him off, but Hogan tightened his hold. Lutzen elbowed him in the side which drew a grunt from Hogan, but his grip remained firm. They struggled for several seconds until Hogan managed to pull the gun from the German's hand. As it fell to the ground with a thump, Lutzen managed to break Hogan's grip by throwing the younger man over his shoulders. Hogan landed on the floor with a groan. He sat up and shook his head in confusion. Both men eyed the pistol, Lutzen made a grab for it.
"HALT!"
Hogan almost sighed in relief, "Major, I've never been happier to see you." Hochstetter had appeared at the top of the steps, pushed passed Klink, and was now standing in the middle of the staircase. The major ignored the POWs and focused all his attention on Lutzen,
"If you pick up that pistol, you will be shot."
Lutzen swallowed and narrowed his eyes at the major, "I am your superior…how dare you?"
"Klink, get that pistol." Hochstetter barked, after he made it passed the injured Schultz. Hochstetter stepped closer to Hogan and the general, "Hogan, see to your man."
Both colonels moved, cautiously, to do as Hochstetter said. Klink grabbed the gun and hid behind Hochstetter, who ordered his men to arrest the general.
Hogan kept a weary eye on Lutzen as he approached Carter. He started to move the younger man when a shout stopped him, "Don't touch him."
The young German corporal had sat up half-way, there was blood on the side of his face. He shook his head gently to clear his vision and his breath came in short gasps, "There is a wire…around his neck that connects to his wrists…if you're not careful…you could kill him."
Hogan studied Carter more carefully and saw the thin wire. He started to remove it and Carter moaned in pain, "Take it easy, Carter." Hogan grimaced when he caught sight of the extent of his injuries. Why? Why do this to Andrew, of all people? Hogan knew all of his men like the back of his hand. Newkirk was the type to goad his captor… to, in some cases, cause his torturer to hurt him further. In short, Newkirk knew how to push buttons and he did so, often.
Carter, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. While he was older than Newkirk, he was the most innocent and naive of all of them. He wouldn't have purposely done or said anything threatening or insolent. Yet, he appeared to be in worse shape than Newkirk had been. After removing the wire, Hogan untied him from the chair and gently lay him into a supine position on the floor. Hogan felt overwhelmed, this went far beyond the game of war…it was evil. Hogan felt his anger boiling over. "You son of a..." Hogan stood and closed the gap between him and the general.
Hochstetter didn't have any time to react as the American stepped over to general put his hands about the general's throat. Hogan slammed his knee into the back of Lutzen's leg, causing the older man to lose his balance and fall backwards. Lutzen struggled, but with his hands in chains, there was little he could do. Surprisingly, it was Klink who interfered.
"Hogan, stop." Klink shouted, grabbing at his prisoners hands, "It won't solve anything."
Hochstetter motioned for one of his men to assist the kommandant. Klink and Hochstetter's corporal pulled Hogan back as the American forcibly gained his control. Lutzen was panting heavily, but appeared to be fine.
"Carter needs medical attention." Hogan said, shaking himself loose from Klink's grasp. Klink nodded, "He will get the best care that we can provide."
"Best care?" Lutzen spat, Hochstetter's men had picked him up and brushed him off, "That man should be stood against the wall and shot for being a spy." Lutzen gestured to the unconscious form of Carter, "Hochstetter, that is your Papa Bear."
1******************************************1
Newkirk quietly lifted the hatch of the emergency tunnel and peeked out. He sighed softly and lifted the hatch the rest of the way. He climbed out of the hollowed-out tree stump and dashed across to the shelter of the shrubs. LeBeau mimicked his actions and they both set out quickly through the woods. They heard a couple patrols in the distance, but not close enough to cause trouble.
About twenty minutes later, they had stopped more than fifty feet from the farmhouse. It was quiet, there was a light on, but neither LeBeau, nor Newkirk, could see anyone moving. There were no vehicles in front of the house, either. The place looked completely abandoned, save the light.
LeBeau started to move down toward the house, but Newkirk pulled him back, "'Member what the colonel said?" he whispered, "No peekin', mate."
"I know, but they could be hurting her." LeBeau replied, fiercely, while still keeping his voice low. Newkirk nodded, "They might, but the colonel's not let us down, yet." he checked his watch, "Let's play it 'is way." Newkirk waited until LeBeau nodded, then he settled down into the brush to take a nap. LeBeau watched the farmhouse closely and muttered to himself in his native tongue.
The next ten minutes passed slowly, until LeBeau picked up the shapes of several figures coming toward the house from the road. He watched until they came close enough for him to recognize the portly form of Schultz and the colonel's bomber jacket. Turning slightly, LeBeau shook Newkirk's shoulder, "Showtime, mon ami."
Newkirk became alert instantly and the two waited as Schultz and two of his men went into the farmhouse. Hogan, Klink, and one other man waited outside.
After a moment or two, Schultz returned to the doorway and the two Europeans saw him shake his head. LeBeau put his head in his hands, murmuring quietly. Newkirk saw Hogan grab the sergeant's arm and then push his way into the building with Klink right on his tail.
"Louis, settle down." he hissed, pushing LeBeau closer toward the back-door, "Knowin' Schultz, 'e prob'ly didn't check in the cellar."
They found a vantage point that was hidden from the view of the house, but still looked in through the glass of the back-door. They saw several figures moving about and briefly glimpsed the colonel, he appeared to be holding a metal rod of some sort, then he disappeared from view.
"They must be down in the cellar by now." Newkirk thought aloud. He was about to reassure his friend that everything would be all right, when a gunshot rang out followed by two more closer together. It was all Newkirk could do to hold the little Frenchman back. LeBeau clawed forward out of the cover of the bushes, pulling Newkirk with him.
"Louis!" Newkirk hissed, trying to regain control, "Get back to the bushes, 'fore someone sees you." LeBeau was about five feet from the front porch when the sound of a car pulling in came into his ears.
Both men spun around toward the sound, when two more shots were heard from the farmhouse. LeBeau turned back to the door in time to see Jocelyn fall into Schultz's arms in a tearful mess.
"Jocelyn." he whispered under his breath.
"Hochstetter." Newkirk, who had kept his eyes on the arriving vehicle, growled. He pulled LeBeau back with renewed strength and shoved him into the bushes as Gestapo soldiers poured into the farmhouse.
"We have to get Jocelyn out of there." LeBeau argued, starting to pull forward, again.
"What about Andrew and the colonel?" Newkirk snapped, though he still kept his voice low, "They could be dead…at least we know the girl is safe."
LeBeau stopped fighting and looked down guiltily, "All right...what do we do?"
Newkirk let go of him and went back to watching the goings-on in the farmhouse, "Wait for a chance, to grab Jocelyn. We'll get her back to the tunnel and then the colonel can decide what's next."
P.S. Hey... So, it's been a couple months...Sorry! I got caught up in writing a story for a different fandom and kinda...sorta..forgot about this one. *looks down sheepishly*
Anyhow, this isn't a super long chapter and it's mostly filler, but things will be happening in the next chapter...probably. I suspect that the story will have probably two to three more chapters. As always, I love criticism (constructive criticism...cause I'm not a masochist.). So, give me a review or a PM with any questions or criticisms. Much love :D
