No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.

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Finally! I was beginning to think they'd never go back inside! A quick look at his watch told Kinch he was now four minutes behind schedule. Damn! I hope Colonel Hogan's been able to keep a lid on things. Kinch reached up, grabbed the bottom of the ornate ironwork and hauled himself hand over hand until he was able to scramble over the railing. The moment the Germans had gone back into the building, he had slid out of the car and climbed onto the trunk. That gave him enough of a boost to be able to reach the balcony, and the Sergeant took full advantage of his natural athletic ability to do the rest. Safely over the rail, he paused at the door to listen. Well, it seems pretty quiet in there, so I'll just have to do what I came to do and hope everyone else can pick up the pieces.

Kinch made his way silently to the power junction box, unrolled his tool case, and got to work.

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Hochstetter wanted to scream. He wanted to toss this arrogant General onto the street for the things he was saying, but when one was only a Major, one had to take whatever a General handed one. So he squared his jaw and kept his mouth shut. Barely. The fact that this part of the hall was warmer than the rest had nothing to do with the sweat trickling down his face as he thrust the keys into Le Beau's hand and stepped away from the door. "There," he growled. "See for yourself."

Le Beau closed his fingers around the keys and looked at Hogan with barely concealed panic. Hogan simply raised his chin and continued taking measured breaths. Finally the Frenchman turned back to the Gestapo officer and started heading for the cell behind him. Moving as slowly as possible, Le Beau tried to keep a steady hand as he raised the key to the lock and inserted it. He paused and turned back to Hogan once more, dreading unlocking the door.

For a moment Hogan did nothing. Le Beau blinked hard and tried to breathe calmly as he heard the click of the lock and began reluctantly to open the door. Then all of a sudden, a hand from behind pushed the door shut. Startled, Le Beau followed the arm and found that Hogan had closed it before anyone was able to see inside.

The Colonel's voice echoed through the corridor. "I think it's time you learned something from your superiors, Hochstetter," he said. Le Beau nearly fainted with relief. Hogan turned to Carter again. "Wasserman, go out and bring in our prisoner."

At that, Carter lost all possible thought patterns. He had no idea what Hogan was up to. Bring Newkirk in? With the lights on, and with Tristan clearly still in the cell? How was that going to help? Heck, it might even make it worse! "But sir, why do you want me to—"

Hogan stopped the Sergeant's confused rambling before he gave them all away. "Do not question my orders, Hauptmann Wasserman!" he snapped. "You are to go out and bring in the prisoner," he growled, "no matter how long it takes!" Hogan stressed each word as he nodded slowly, his eyes locking on Carter's to ensure the young man understood his orders.

Carter furrowed his brow, then accepted Hogan's look and nodded. "Jawohl, Herr General," he said, saluting almost obsessively. "If it takes me all night!"

"Don't let it take you that long," Hogan said pointedly.

Carter took off. Hogan turned back to Hochstetter. "Now we shall see how little the Gestapo knows about how to keep prisoners in their cells." He looked around him, almost casually. "Hochstetter, get me the file on the prisoner. I will need to take it with me. And get me a cup of coffee to wake me up; I grow weary having to deal with such ineptness."

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"Newkirk!" came the whisper, loud in the quiet of the trees in the park.

"Here, mate!" came a soft whisper in reply, as Newkirk cautiously peered through the bushes concealing his hiding place.

Carter came ambling over and disappeared into the brush with his friend. "The lights aren't out yet. The Colonel sent me out to find you."

"Well I can see that the bleedin' lights aren't out yet, Carter. What's going on in there?" Newkirk grabbed the American by the arm, pulling him close enough so they could speak in whispers. "Is everyone all right then? What about Tristan?"

Carter shrugged. "I think he's okay. Hochstetter still has him in his cell. We were gonna have to open the door without the lights out when the Colonel sent me here for you. But he wants me to take my time. I don't know what's going on with Kinch."

Newkirk eyed the headquarters building again. "He's still behind there, and I've not heard any sort of row, so he hasn't been caught." I hope.

"I'm not sure how long we should stall," Carter worried. "Things were getting pretty hot and bothered in there. But boy, you should have seen the way the Colonel was razzing Hochstetter. Calling him inferior, telling him the Gestapo has no idea what it's doing." Carter stopped and grinned. "Y'know? I think he was almost having fun!"

"He was, mate. He was," Newkirk said quietly, but with a smile playing around on his face all the same. How many times have I seen him brace an entire roomful of Nazis by acting totally insane? Of course, a time or two, I wasn't sure it was all acting. A glance at his watch told Newkirk they were now six minutes off schedule. He sighed as he looked back to Carter. "How long do we stall? For as long as it takes, Andrew." Or until something happens—good or bad.

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Keeping Le Beau on the alert in case Hochstetter or the guard at the end of the corridor came back, Hogan quickly went up to the cell door and pulled open the view port. "Tristan!" he whispered hoarsely. "Tristan, it's Colonel Hogan! Can you hear me?"

In the blinding white light that flooded the cell, Hogan could see Newkirk seated in a hard wooden chair with his hands pulled behind his back. Tristan's uniform was soaked with sweat, and even with his head hanging low, the Colonel saw that blood dripped freely from a long, thin cut on the side of the Squadron Leader's face. Tristan didn't move when Hogan spoke, but it was hard to tell if he was unconscious or simply didn't hear.

Hogan tried again. "Newkirk! Newkirk, it's Hogan! Are you all right? We're gonna come in for you soon!"

Tristan slowly raised his head and looked blankly toward the source of the sound. The glaring light stabbed into his eyes, and he closed them quickly. I thought I heard... but no, it can't be him, not here. Besides, I clearly heard that right rhubarb Hochstetter out there just now, so there's no way that Hogan could be here as well. It's just another trick. Taking a breath, he gathered himself and spoke. "Newkirk, Tristan. Squadron Leader, Royal Air Force. Service number 024586."

Hogan sighed, frustrated and distressed. "I don't need to hear that, soldier. Listen to me. It's Hogan, from Stalag 13. We saw Hochstetter's goons take you from camp, and we're going to get you out. Just play along with us, okay?" No answer. Hogan got the impression somehow that despite the less than perfect physical condition Tristan was in, that it was doubt and not illness that was stopping him from responding the way Hogan wanted him to. "Look, if you play along, I'll do you another round of Anvil Chorus before I send you back to England, all right?" he added. "And you can make sure your brother gives me back my drumsticks!"

Tristan had already started to turn away when Hogan added his comment about playing Anvil Chorus. Blimey! Peter said he could pull off the impossible, but I ruddy well never would have believed Hogan would waltz right into Gestapo Headquarters like this! He looked back toward the door, squinting against the light as he tried to see where the Colonel was. "I'll hold you to that," he whispered softly in reply. "What's the plan, sir?"

"Play along with me and you'll be out of there in no time. Just don't be surprised by anything you see, got it?"

"I'll be ready."

Hogan nodded, though he knew Newkirk couldn't see him. "Just sit tight. How badly are you hurt? Can you walk?"

Instead of answering right away, Tristan eased his arms free of the chair back and rested them across his knees. A set of handcuffs dangled from one arm, and the other wrist and hand were covered with painful-looking scrapes. A brief grin crossed his face despite the developing bruises and split lip he was sporting, and though he didn't open his eyes, he looked back at the door and nodded briefly. "I could handle a turn or two round the park, sir, provided Jerry doesn't raise too strong an objection."

Hogan grinned. All Newkirks were alike. "If we handle this right, they won't even be looking for you. Just be ready to go at my signal." A quick signal from Le Beau indicated their time for talk was finished. "Now conserve your strength. You're going to need it."

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Hochstetter had gone up to the second storey, where the small kitchen was located. He'd found a fresh pot of coffee had just been made by two of the office clerks who had slipped out onto the balcony for a cigarette break. Furious at the high-handed treatment he was getting from General von Scherer, Hochstetter had taken part of his temper out on the hapless clerks as he angrily ordered them back to work. After they left, the Major had seized a cup, but then had found himself flinging it across the room to smash into the far wall. A second cup followed the first, until Hochstetter felt in control of himself enough to begin assembling a tray.

A nervous orderly looked into the kitchen on hearing the breaking crockery and was surprised to see the Major putting a coffee service together himself. "E-excuse me, Herr Major. May I be of some assistance?"

The Gestapo officer spun around on hearing the voice, then nodded. "Ja, you may. Finish this, then bring it to the cell block. You are to wait at the end of the hall for my instructions." Hochstetter gave the orderly an intense stare, one clearly intended to drive his next words home. "And if you ever breathe one word of anything you see or hear down there, you will beg me to have you shot before I am finished with you. Understood?"

The stare worked. The orderly, always nervous in the officer's presence, could only nod and stammer out a reply as he finished the tray with shaking hands. Hochstetter swept past the man and out to retrieve the demanded file. The orderly followed him, then waited at the end of the hall leading to the cellblock, while the Major approached his unwanted visitors.

Hogan had whirled at the first sound of footsteps, and was now standing almost casually beside Le Beau. As Hochstetter rounded the corner, he straightened and looked with disdain at the Major. "You certainly took your time, Hochstetter," he said. He reached out and practically snatched the folder away from the German. "I'll take that." Then, seeing the man devoid of anything resembling coffee, he added, "And where is this refreshment? Or do you need a hausfrau to show you how to brew a simple cup of coffee?"

"Of course not, Herr General." Hochstetter smiled ingratiatingly through gritted teeth and gestured down the hall to the orderly. "I have brought the coffee as you requested, sir. I thought perhaps the General would like to take it in my office instead of standing around in this dismal hallway."

Hogan smirked with a distinct air of superiority. "I make it a practice never to have a coffee klatch with anyone under the rank of Colonel. And certainly with no one in the Gestapo," he said. "I will have it here."

"Certainly, sir." Hochstetter glanced at the orderly and motioned him forward. Once the man had brought the tray, the Major picked up the ornate silver pot and began to fill a cup. His eyes lingered on the sugar bowl. I should have filled that with rat poison from under the sink. "Does the General take milk or sugar with his coffee?"

"Luxuries!" Hogan spouted. "Luxuries! I have vowed not to have such extravagances until the boys on the front are back home and enjoying these things themselves. I will, of course, take it black. Stabsfeldwebel? Would you care for a cup?" Hogan glanced at the tray, and looked fleetingly toward the door. What was taking Kinch so long with those lights?

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"Right, Carter. It's time." Newkirk looked at the American and nodded slightly. "Let's have the cuffs and we'll get moving."

"Sorry about this, buddy," Carter apologized as he slipped the cuffs in place. "I wouldn't do this to ya if I didn't have to." He tested the shackles just once. "I mean, I wouldn't do it at all if I had a choice, but you know how the Gestapo are—they tend to play it rough just so they don't have to watch ya too closely when you're being moved from one place to another and they don't want your arms free."

"I know, mate. That's why I gave you a special set." Newkirk flexed his hands, giving them an odd sort of twist while he was talking, and before Carter knew what was going on, Newkirk held one hand up with the now-opened cuffs dangling from his fingertips. He grinned briefly as he held out his wrists for Carter to replace the restraints. "This is one game where I want as many aces up my sleeve as I can possibly have."

Carter looked at his companion in amazement. "Gee, Newkirk, I didn't know you'd given me a magic set!" Carter put the cuffs on again. "I'd love to see you do another trick or two—" The American cut himself off. "But Colonel Hogan will need us. I don't know what he's thinking, but he must have a plan. I mean, the Colonel always has a plan."

"Well, let's go and see what it is, then." Newkirk stood and gave his friend a long look. "And don't worry if you have to shove me around a bit, Andrew. You just concentrate on doing what's necessary to help get us all out of there in one piece, all right?"

Carter looked at Newkirk, slight disbelief touching his face even in the darkness. "Okay. But don't get upset if Colonel Hogan starts shouting at ya. I think he's even got Hochstetter scared of him at the moment. You should see how civil the Major's being, even though you can tell he hates the Colonel's guts!"

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Hochstetter resisted the urge to knock the cup from the visiting General's hand only by keeping the consequences of such an action firmly in mind. I would likely be shot before the cup hit the floor, but it would almost be worth it just to put an end to this stupidity. The Major also resisted the urge to pace, as he didn't want to give the General anything else to complain about. This is ridiculous! I know the Englander is in the cell because I put him in there myself, and there has been a guard in the hall ever since. But as there was nothing he could do about the situation, Hochstetter kept a carefully neutral expression on his face and waited impatiently for the Abwehr officer to finish sipping coffee.

"An interesting little brew you have here, Major," Hogan said thoughtfully. He took a slow sip from his cup. "Almost as poor as they have on the Russian front, only with much less of an excuse to be poor, no?" He snorted once and turned to Le Beau. "Rinehart, tell me the time; I cannot bear the waiting."

"Ja, Herr General, it does seem to be taking your man awhile to locate your Squadron Leader. Perhaps we could settle the matter simply by opening the cell door." Hochstetter stepped forward and held out his hand to Le Beau. "The keys, if you would."

Le Beau looked doubtfully at Hogan, who let out a low breath which did nothing to loosen the tightness in his chest. Then the Colonel nodded once, shortly. "Go on, Rinehart," he said. "Open the door."

Le Beau watched as Hogan's hand edged toward a hidden gun under his coat as the Colonel moved in closer to Hochstetter. Clearly, Hogan was expecting this to go badly, but he was going to go down fighting. His eyes were dark and serious and, Le Beau was certain, regretful. The Corporal nodded, and swallowing his heart, he took the key out of his pocket and turned to the door.

A noise at the far end of the hall drew everyone's attention as a man in a British uniform was brought in. As they drew closer, the captive muttered something under his breath and tried to pull free of his escort's grasp. The ensuing scuffle came to an abrupt halt when the Englishman was suddenly pushed face-first into the wall and pinned in place. Breathing heavily with exertion, Carter turned to Hogan and nodded. "The prisoner, as you ordered, Herr General."

Hogan's shoulders slumped in obvious relief as he nodded to Le Beau to move away from the cell door and pocket the key. "Very good, Wasserman," Hogan said, his voice not betraying any of his emotions. He glanced at Hochstetter, who was about to move closer to the prisoner when Hogan put an arm out to stop him. "What is your name, Englander?"

Peter turned his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Hogan and Hochstetter, allowing his gaze to linger on the Gestapo officer as he sized up the situation. As his eyes turned to Hogan, his expression hardened and his reply came in a low tone. "Squadron Leader Tristan Newkirk." There was just enough of a pause to be noticed before he added, "Sir."

Hogan turned to the Gestapo Major. "Major Hochstetter?" he said, with just a touch of irony in his voice.

Hochstetter stared at the prisoner. "Bu-But… but that is impossible! The Englander is in the cell!"

"Is he?" Hogan asked doubtfully. He nodded almost imperceptibly; Newkirk turned his head away again. "Come now, Major," the Colonel said, the condescension in his voice settling on Hochstetter like a smothering blanket, "surely even you can believe your own eyes."

The Major growled something under his breath as he stormed his way past Hogan, heading for Le Beau and clearly intending to seize the keys for himself when the hallway went dark. He swore bitterly and began shouting for the guard as he kept moving toward the place where he'd last seen Le Beau.

Without hesitation, Hogan shoved Le Beau toward the cell and then moved in to make sure Hochstetter wouldn't interfere with his plans. He started shouting to cover the sound of the door being opened. "What is the meaning of this? Hochstetter, what kind of incompetent outfit are you running here?" He twisted around, wandering the hall, attempting to throw the Major off-balance. And when he felt himself make contact with the Gestapo officer's arm, he pulled hard. "Wasserman?" he called, knowing full well he was pulling Hochstetter squirming to the ground. "Is that you?"

Meanwhile, Le Beau made his way into the dark cell and felt his way to Tristan's side in the chair. "Sir, it's Le Beau," he whispered. "Come, we must hurry. Vite."

Tristan pulled his arms free of the chair and rose unsteadily to his feet, grabbing Le Beau's shoulder until he found his balance. "Righto, Corporal. Lead the way."

"Stay quiet," the Frenchman ordered in less than a whisper. Then he led Tristan out of the room and shut the door silently behind them. Hogan had already recovered his footing and was standing nearby; Louis fumblingly found the Colonel's hand and dropped the keys in it. Hogan squeezed Le Beau's hand briefly to convey both acceptance and his orders, and within seconds, the Corporal and Tristan were gone. Hogan turned back toward where he knew Hochstetter had started to get up, and he simply knocked the Major down again. "Hochstetter? Hochstetter, where are you? I hope if you're not here you're busy packing for colder climates!"

The heavy sound of running feet echoed in the hall as a pair of guards came rushing forward, the bright beams of their flashlights stabbing through the darkness to illuminate the scene. "Herr Major!" One of the guards helped Hochstetter to his feet and gave him a hasty salute. "Power is out in the entire building, sir, but it is only this building that is affected! We have doubled the guards and have sent some men to search for the cause."

"Good!" The Gestapo officer snatched the flashlight from the guard's hand and swept the beam around the hall, letting it rest on the Englishman and the General's aide. He nodded in satisfaction when he saw that the aide had apparently forced the prisoner to his knees and was now holding a pistol to the back of the man's head. Satisfied that things were well in hand there, Hochstetter wheeled around and shined the light on the senior Abwehr officer. "All right, Herr General," he said, his tone low and dangerous. "Where is your other man? Rinehart?"

Hogan laughed, almost giggled, a noise that nearly drove Hochstetter over the edge. "Why, he went outside to keep watch, Major," Hogan said. "With the way things are happening here tonight, I did not want to take any chances on you losing any other prisoners because of a simple blown fuse. Imagine the Fuhrer's dismay if I had to tell him you lost not only one… but two prisoners!"

With that, Hogan tossed a casual glance toward Peter and Carter. "Wasserman, get that man off his knees. We are Abwehr; we do not engage in such primitive practices. We are able to keep hold of our prisoners even when they are on their feet." He watched Newkirk rise and breathe an almost audible sigh of relief as Carter pulled the gun away from his head. "Now, Major, if you are sure your flashlight will last that long, perhaps now would be the time to open the cell and see exactly who you do not have in there?"

"All right, Herr General," he said crossly. The Major had finally had enough of being ridiculed, even by a superior officer. "We will open that cell now."

Hogan swept past the Major and put the key in the lock, then turned it and let the door swing open. "After you, Major Hochstetter," he said graciously, stepping aside to let the German pass into the room.

Hochstetter stood in the doorway, ignoring the heat flowing out of the small cell as he aimed the flashlight at the spot he knew the chair had been placed, and was stunned to find it empty. He stared, disbelieving, and felt the blood drain from his face from the shock. Finally gathering his wits about him, the Major slowly ran the beam around the tiny room.

Hogan wanted out, now. He knew it was only a matter of time before the lights came back on, and once that happened the danger to them all would increase tenfold. "What's the matter, Major? Afraid of ghosts?"

He pushed Hochstetter into the room and squared off against him, the light from the Major's flashlight casting eerie shadows on his face. "This—this cannot be!" Hochstetter spluttered. "It is a trick! You have done this somehow! I checked on him myself—he could not be—!"

Hogan shook his head and sighed. "You can see, Major, that you are as incompetent as I have said. This officer is far too important to be left to the likes of you and your Gestapo stooges. I shall take him to Berlin and question him myself." Without giving Hochstetter a chance to respond, Hogan turned to Carter. "Wasserman, take this prisoner out and put him in the truck. We will leave immediately. Hochstetter, I suggest you get yourself an electrician… and maybe someone who can make sure the locks on your cells work!"

Then, not waiting to see if anyone followed, Hogan spun on his heel and walked out.