Morning came, and Hogan's belly ached a tad more than the previous night. He woke up, rubbed his belly, then slowly sat up. A spell of nausea hit him for a brief moment, but it passed over soon afterwards. He stood up slowly and made his way down the stairs. The American colonel was greeted by the smell of scrambled eggs and bacon cooking on the stove. He swooned over the aroma of coffee being made.
Mike turned around and smiled, and Jim looked up from the stove.
"Morning, Colonel," Mike said, with a smile.
"How yah feeling there, Papa Bear?" Jim asked.
Hogan smiled small.
"My stomach aches a little bit, but nothing food can't help." Hogan answered. He decided not telling Mike and Jim he had been shot before being supposedly 'burned alive'.
Mike handed Hogan a cup of hot coffee and both of them sat down in the living room, as they waited for Jim to finish with breakfast.
"So, you have any leads with where this Italian is?" Mike asked.
Hogan took a sip of coffee before answering.
"None whatsoever; whoever he is, he certainly had good training and thought his plan well ahead of time before arriving to Germany." Hogan answered.
"Sounds like a rotten soul." Mike said.
"Certainly one of my more difficult missions assigned to me by London, but it's what I gotta do, if I ever wanna get back to Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, LeBeau, and...good Old Kommandant Klink and Schultz, too."
"You actually miss Stalag 13?"
"I know; I get ill just thinking about it."
Jim brought out a plate of eggs and bacon for Mike and Hogan. He soon returned with his own and sat next to Mike in the vacant chair besides him. Hogan sat on the sofa in front of the two young men. He sat his plate down on the coffee table along with his coffee cup.
"You have a plan of how you're gonna track down this guy?" Jim asked, before putting a forkful of eggs in his mouth.
"I've got an idea, but I need to plan it accordingly in order for a chance of it succeeding." Hogan replied, grabbing his coffee cup and taking a drink.
"We can help you, if you want." Mike suggested.
Hogan gave a friendly smile.
"As much as I appreciate the offer, I can't get you two involved. It's too risky for your lives and mine." He answered. Hogan took another drink of coffee and sighed. "Jim, I think this is the best coffee I've ever had...just don't tell LeBeau I said that."
Jim chuckled.
"Your secret's safe with me, Colonel." Jim answered, smiling.
"Wish we could help you in some way...anything we can supply with for your plan to work?" Mike asked.
"No, no, I'm good. The only thing I need for my plan is myself and my brain." Hogan said. He took another drink of coffee.
"As long as you say so, Papa Bear." Mike answered.
Hogan smiled then shushed them.
"Let's keep my code name to a minimum. Peretti could be anywhere, and he could be listening in on us." Hogan answered, softly.
Mike and Jim nodded, understanding.
"Sorry, Colonel," Mike said, softly.
Hogan smiled and continued drinking his coffee and started eating his breakfast.
"Murdered," Klink gasped, slowly sitting back in his chair.
"Found dead late last night by the side of the road; stabbed to death." Hochstetter sneered. He leaned forward towards Klink, until he was close enough the Kommandant could feel his hot breath against his face. "Do you know anything about this, Klink?!"
Klink gulped, his fear of the gestapo officer growing stronger.
"I can assure you, Major Hochstetter, all prisoners were confined to their barracks, last night. I had done so after finding out my staff car was…" Klink stopped and took a deep breath. The events of last night involving the total demolition of his car was still too much for him to take without losing it.
"Was what,"
"...purposely destroyed, Major."
"By who,"
"I have my suspicions to believe the same young man who killed Captain Schneider and my Senior POW Officer, Colonel Hogan. Since killing Hogan, he made me his next target on the list."
Schultz opened the door and saluted to Klink.
"Schultz, what are you doing here? Can't you see I'm busy with somebody?!" Klink cried.
"Herr Kommandant, General Burkhalter is here to see you." Schultz said.
"Don't just stand there, dummkopf; send him in here!" Klink barked.
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz answered, strong.
He marched his way out and soon enough General Burkhalter came in and took his place.
Klink stood, saluted to Burkhalter, then sat back down in his chair.
"Klink, what is this call that was so urgent of me to make my presence here immediate?" Burkhalter questioned, rather annoyed.
"General Burkhalter, I'm the one that requested your presence immediate." Hochstetter claimed.
"And just why was it so urgent for you to see me?" Burkhalter asked.
"One of my gestapo officers, Lieutenant Bacher, was found murdered by the side of the road about four miles from this very prisoner of war camp, late last night. He was stabbed to death. I suspect sabotage done by the Underground in order to retaliate against the death of their precious Colonel Hogan." Hochstetter snarled.
"And what proof do you have of Colonel Hogan connected to the Underground?"
Hochstetter grew silent.
"I thought so, Major." Burkhalter spoke, giving an evil grin.
"Couldn't of Lieutenant Bacher just as well committed suicide?" Klink asked.
"Highly unlikely; Lieutenant Bacher would have never done such a thing." Hochstetter hissed.
"On the contrary, Major; one of your men are suspected to be behind the murders of Captain Heinz Schneider and Colonel Robert Hogan." Burkhalter replied.
"Lieutenant Bacher would've never killed one of his own men." Hochstetter growled.
"I looked up Lieutenant Bacher's previous medical record before receiving your call to order me out here. According to a psychologist at Hammelburg Memorial Hospital, Lieutenant Bacher was recently described in the last six months of having emotional outbursts, hallucinations, complete delirium, and showing characteristics of sometimes being in a catatonic like state both physically and mentally. The man was diagnosed by a professional of having severe paranoia schizophrenia."
"What are you trying to accuse of one of my officers of, General?"
"Lieutenant Bacher has an interesting connection to the murders of both Captain Schneider and Colonel Hogan. His mental state was an interesting discovery. Perhaps you should do a more thorough investigation regarding all of your men."
"Don't talk badly about the gestapo, General!"
Klink moaned softly and turned his head to the ceiling.
"Hogan...why did you leave me here with these two?!" Klink whimpered. He sighed and put his chin in his hand, as he sat and continued listening to what would go on for another three hours or longer.
Kinchloe, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau were sitting around Colonel Hogan's desk in his quarters, as the four listened in on the arguing through the coffee pot.
Kinchloe sighed and looked at his three friends.
"Sadly, the actual killer is still on the loose." Kinchloe sadly put it.
"It's a shame we can't figure out where he is." LeBeau sadly said.
"Sure would love to get my hands around that bloody bloke's neck and strangle him." Newkirk snarled.
Kinchloe walked over to the maps hang on the wall besides Hogan's desk. He pulled one down of Stalag 13 and the nearby areas around the camp within a 100 mile radius. He grabbed Hogan's pointer and began explaining the facts to the other three.
"We're here; and so far, the Italian spy has striked attacks here and here." Kinchloe began, pointing to two different locations. All were considerably close by to Stalag 13. "We can be absolutely certain that he's in the surrounding areas. As I said about the Kommandant, last night, I didn't mean it just to get him off our backs, but I seriously believe that this guy's gonna go after Klink, next, if we don't do something about it."
"What about future assignments?" Carter asked.
"We sure aren't safe, if that Kraut isn't." LeBeau commented.
"We'll have to go in pairs, until this crook is put in his place on further notice." Kinchloe answered.
LeBeau smiled at Newkirk.
"Maybe I'll now get to meet this 'Annika' of your's, Pierre." LeBeau cooed.
"It wasn't a date!" Newkirk hissed.
"Alright, guys; let's focus, here. We've gotta think of a plan to get that Italian spy captured and locked up, if we want to continue going out on missions safely to a certain extent." Kinchloe spoke.
"Why don't we just dress up as gestapo officers and put 'Wanted' poster signs up all over the area?" Newkirk asked.
"Are you crazy; this man has already killed two gestapo officers!" LeBeau cried.
"Louis's right; this Italian man has made it clear he disapproves of the entire gestapo organization. We'll have to dress as luftwaffe guards in order to attract less attention." Kinchloe said.
"Kinch, do you suppose that if this guy does succeed with killing Klink, do you think he'll go after Hochstetter next?" Carter asked.
"I wouldn't be surprised, if he did. After him, it'll probably be General Burkhalter." Kinchloe answered.
"Blimey, where's the Gov'nor, when yah need him?!" Newkirk moaned.
"Colonel Hogan would know what to do...so what are we gonna do without him?" Carter asked, worried.
"We'll do the posters, for now; I'll have to come up with something to get rid of this guy." Kinchloe said, crossing his arms.
"Well, until that mongrel's locked up and the key's thrown away, we're stuck in this camp until further notice." Newkirk groaned.
"Newkirk, Carter, prepare two luftwaffe guard uniforms. You two are going out tonight to hang up the posters." Kinchloe said.
"Yah gotta be crackers, Kinch! Putting the two of us out there for this guy to attack?!" Newkirk exclaimed.
"We'll get killed, Kinch!" Carter cried.
"I know it's risky, but we've gotta do something to end this guy's agenda. We owe Colonel at least that much." Kinchloe answered.
Newkirk sighed then turned to Carter.
"He's right, yah know; we owe it to Colonel with our lives after all the times he stood up and risked his life for us." Newkirk sadly answered.
"He died saving us, too. He knew the gestapo would eventually find a way to get him to crack and tell everything regarding us and the operation. He was then shot and…" LeBeau shuddered just remembering the facts of how Hogan died. It gave him chills knowing what his commanding officer had to go through as he died painfully and slowly.
"Newkirk's right; we gotta get him back for what he did to Colonel. Boy, if he was here right now and knew our lives were endangered from this guy, he sure would be planning up a storm of how to get rid of the guy!" Carter added.
"So, it's official we're all doing this mission for Colonel." Kinchloe said, putting his hand in.
LeBeau put his hand in with a proud smile.
"For mon Colonel," LeBeau spoke, proud of his commanding officer.
"For Colonel all the way." Carter spoke, smiling and putting his hand in.
"For the Gov'nor," Newkirk cried, putting his hand in the pile.
The four men put away the coffee pot, left Hogan's room, and followed Kinchloe to the fake bunk. The radioman smacked the bunk twice and the bunk rose and ladder descended down to the tunnels. One by one, the four men made their ways down into the tunnels and followed Kinchloe to the radio room to start planning out tonight's assignment.
It was mid afternoon, and Hogan was coming down stairs after waking up from a nap. His belly ached more, and his stitching and scar was beginning to burn. He grimaced and moaned softly rubbing his middle. He slowly made his way to the couch in the living room and sat down. Hogan closed his eyes and took in deep breaths to try and ease his pain away. He knew his wound was becoming infected and the torn muscles in his stomach that were not repaired on the inside were being injured, again. On top of that, his lungs were still badly damaged from inhaling all the smoke from the fire. It still hurt like crazy and was mere impossible to breathe at points. Sadly, there was nothing he could do for them. He was out of pain medicine and antibiotics, and he could not get medical attention, until his mission had been completed. His only motivation to keep going was who he was fighting for so hard to return to: the operation, Kinchloe, Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau, Schultz, Klink, the other prisoners, he was determined to get back to them.
His painful stomach contractions began to cease, as Mike and Jim made their way in from the kitchen. The could sense their commanding officer was not doing all that well.
"You alright, Colonel?" Mike asked.
"You look a little pale for liking." Jim added.
Hogan gulped.
"I'm alright...just a stomach ache, is all." The American colonel answered, his eyes still closed.
Mike and Jim sat down on each side of Hogan.
"You have everything planned for tonight?" Mike asked.
"As good as it'll ever get, Mike." Hogan answered, tired.
"Hopefully after tonight, you'll be able to return to Stalag 13 home to your men." Jim commented.
"I keep praying that's what will be the outcome." Hogan replied.
"Do you wanna take a nap, sir?" Mike asked.
"We'll wake you up, when it gets dark out." Jim added.
"I already took a nap, but thank you." Hogan said.
"You want something to eat?" Jim asked.
"No, but I'll take a cup of coffee, please."
"One cup of coffee coming up, sir."
Jim rose from the couch and went out to the kitchen leaving Hogan and Mike alone.
"You sure you're alright, Colonel?" Mike asked.
Hogan sighed and decided he would tell them. There was nothing they could do for him, anyways.
"To be honest, Mike, I feel horrible. Not only do have serious medical injuries to my lungs and bronchial tubes from the smoke inhalation, but I was also shot in the stomach shortly before that. The doctors in Venice could only remove the bullet and repair my stomach, but the muscles are still torn. I don't have any medicine, so not only intense pain am I suffering from, but I believe I'm also beginning to grow an infection in the wound." Hogan answered, taking a deep breath in.
"Are you alright; maybe you should take it easy for a few days." Mike spoke, concerned.
"Won't do any good; I need medical care in order to recover properly, and I can't seek it out, until I get Peretti out of the way. It could cause too much danger for my life and my men...sure hope they're alright and not getting involved in this."
"Colonel, you're men are smart and trustworthy; they're just fine, I assure you."
Hogan smiled and rubbed his belly gently, when Jim came back with a cup of coffee and handed it to the colonel.
"Thank you," Hogan said, politely.
"You're welcome, sir." Jim answered.
Jim sat down besides Mike, and they continued conversing with Hogan.
"Are you sure you're feeling well, Colonel? I can get you some painkillers, if your stomach ache's that bad." Jim said.
Hogan shook his head 'no'.
"I don't think painkillers will help my stomach, now." Hogan answered, honestly.
"What do you mean?" Jim asked, worried. He turned to Mike for an answer.
"Colonel Hogan has a gunshot wound in his stomach that needs medical attention to repair. His lungs are still badly burned and has difficulty breathing due to smoke inhalation, as well." Mike replied.
Jim snapped his head back to Hogan, his eyes wide.
"Should I take you to the hospital?" Jim gasped.
"No...it's too risky for me to be caught in public, right now. I could be putting my men at a higher risk of danger than they're already in." Hogan answered, swallowing.
Mike and Jim nodded.
"Yes, sir," Jim answered.
"So...when do you plan on leaving, tonight?" Mike asked.
"Around 8:00 tonight; hopefully, I'll be going home afterwards." Hogan answered.
Both Underground workers nodded.
"We'll assist you in any way we can, sir." Mike said.
Hogan smiled.
"Thank you...both of you." He answered, smiling weak.
Mike and Jim left Hogan alone, as they went into another room. The American colonel took another drink of his coffee, held the cup in between his hands, and began thinking of tonight and how everything would go down...that is...if he was lucky.