Kinch swallowed hard, back pressed hard against the hill behind him. He felt snow and water seeping into his shirt. The explosion of the munitions dump had cracked the snow weakened hill and even in the dark, Kinch could see the jagged stones far below. Lurid orange and red firelight flickered over everything along with the heavy stank of explosives and gunpowder. He briefly wondered where the rest of the team was. Come on, guys. I'm toast if this hill gives way any more!

"Blimey, Kinch, you sure can get in a mess." Newkirk's head popped over the hill. "Just don't move, all right?"

"Last thing on my mind." Where am I going to go?!

"That dump made a lot bigger bang than expected."

"Just get me out of here, Newkirk!"

"Hang on, hang on." The Englishman's voice held a soothing tone. "Got a bit of rope 'ere. If you can, tie it around your waist. Don't worry, we'll have you up in a tick." A rain slick rope fell practically on Kinch's head. "Good thing Louie saw which way you'd been tossed."

Kinch carefully knotted the rope around his waist, not liking the way his fingers trembled. "Ready."

"All right then."

A jerk then a steady pull and Kinch scrambled up the hill, mud and rock crumbling away at his touch. "Almost," he gasped as he neared the top.

A filthy hand grabbed his wrist. "Come on, mate." Newkirk heaved Kinch onto solid ground. Kinch shook his head, grinning at a panting LeBeau standing beside a tree that had been used as a pulley.

"Thanks. Carter and Cole?"

"Covering us. Come on, we'll have a job evading the Krauts as is. Hope you can run, Kinch." Newkirk rubbed a sleeve across his face, smearing the dirt. "How are you, LeBeau?"

"Fine. Kinch, you need to lose some weight." The petite Frenchman took a few more long breaths. "Let's go."

"Not a problem." Kinch jogged off, noting Newkirk hanging back to cover their backs. Guilt coursed through him.

When the men returned that night, the scent of fresh brewed coffee filled the tunnel "Merci," LeBeau said, teeth chattering as Group Captain Wellston handed him a mug. He pulled off his gloves and clasped his mug close.

"Snowing?"

"Raining and snowing," Carter said. "Kind of like hail but smaller." He grinned. "Got the dump blown."

"Blimey, Carter, don't just stand there." Newkirk pushed past, halting when he saw Wellston. "Oh. Sorry, Group Captain. Didn't know you were up yet."

"Quite all right. Have some coffee, Corporal."

"Thank you." Newkirk grabbed a mug and stood aside for Kinch and Major Cole. Kinch raised an eyebrow. Officers didn't make coffee for enlisted. Yet he took full advantage and grabbed a cup. Looking at his team mates, he grinned. Everyone bore blotches and patches of mud, were soaking wet yet everyone appeared all right. Major Cole even smiled. Amazing what a good bombing can do. Now wonder Carter likes it!

"Great job. Kinch, let London know we got the dump and then get cleaned up and dried off. We've got roll call in a few hours, so get some sleep, everyone."

"Yes, sir." "Whatever you say." "You got it." The voices chorused as if one.

Kinch touched Newkirk's arm as the Brit turned to leave. "I need to talk to you."

Newkirk nodded. "All right."

Kinch radioed London, then handed the headset back to Baker. Newkirk washed up and waited patiently as kinch followed suit. When done, Kinch hurried him down the tunnel to Klink's guest quarters. There he stopped, licked his lips. Newkirk watched him curiously. Kinch inhaled, glanced around. "Thank you for tonight," he said.

Newkirk waved him off. "Brothers, mate. It's what we do."

"I was wrong." Newkirk cocked his head and Kinch's cheeks reddened. "I talked to Wellston. He told me the Colonel had requested you to be his aide."

Newkirk stiffened. "I know."

"He wouldn't have..." Kinch stumbled over unfamiliar words. "He wouldn't have done that if he didn't, ah, want you around. I'm sorry for what I said. Obviously, he--cared for you." Kinch unconciously took a step back.

Newkirk rubbed his head. "Thank you," he said. "Kinch, it doesn't matter."

"It does. I was wrong, Newkirk. I said he couldn't love you and obviously, he, ah, did." Kinch straightened his shoulders. "I said the Colonel couldn't love you. I'm surprised you didn't punch me. Yet you still came back and saved me."

Newkirk glared at him. "What are you thinking? I mean it when I say we're brothers. You bleedin' drive me crazy but we're family! Of course I came back!"

"That's what I'm trying to say." Kinch paced a few steps. "I don't agree with what you and the Colonel did--it's still wrong to me--but Colonel Hogan was the best man I ever knew and you are family. Maybe the crazy uncle but still one of us." He smiled slightly. "You're not what I pictured a homosexual to be."

Newkirk shrugged, not smiling back. "What should I be?"

"Girly. Pretty. Delicate. Flounces."

"Sorry to disappoint."

Kinch stirred uncomfortably. "Look, Newkirk, um..."

Newkirk held up a hand. "Don't," he said harshly. "No more. Thanks for the apology. Look, the gov and I were lovers and that's it. No one needs to talk about it any more."

"Newkirk, I just need to know. What about you?"

"What? It's me." Newkirk managed a tight smile. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, that's working out real well," Kinch muttered, rolling his eyes. "Newkirk, you're falling apart."

"I can do my job," Newkirk snarled.

Kinch and Newkirk eyed each other. "Jesus, Newkirk," Kinch said. "I understand you think you're all right but you were sleeping with your CO and he's dead. That has an effect!"

"I can handle this." Kinch and Newkirk eyeballed each other again.

"Calm down, both of you."

Newkirk and Kinch whirled. LeBeau and Carter walked their way. LeBeau still held his coffee and Carter just shook his head. "What are you two doing?" Kinch demanded.

"Looking for you two." Carter leaned against the wall. "Be glad LeBeau has the keenest ears here. We followed the shouting."

"We weren't yelling," Newkirk crossly said. "Just talking."

" So how did this happen?" Kinch asked. "You and the Colonel?"

"Never mind." Newkirk moodily stared into the coffee.

"It is unusual, Newkirk."

"I don't want to talk about it. Hogan's dead. That's it." He gulped his coffee and set the mug down. "Good night." He stalked off.

LeBeau and Carter looked at Kinch rather accusingly. "Look, I'm sorry," Kinch said sheepishly. " I'm kind of curious now. And he needs to understand he's not normal.."

"He knows that," LeBeau said. "He just needs to know people care."

"That's still weird," Kinch muttered. "Maybe he just hasn't met the right woman."

"Did you really tell him mon Colonel did not love him?'

Kinch sighed. "I didn't think Colonel Hogan did." He set his empty mug down. "How? How did we miss it? And why? Why Newkirk and why the Colonel?"

"He said he loved the Colonel," Carter reminded. "You said that too." He cocked his head. "He was really going to be the Colonel's aide?"

"From what the Group Captain said, yes." Kinch looked down the tunnel. "That's what convinced me. Colonel Hogan wanted him with him after the war."

"You can not explain love," LeBeau said.

"He's right." Carter glanced at his friends. "We better get going. So what do we do?"

"We watch him," Kinch said helplessly.

Newkirk hurried to the cooler tunnel, feeling his chest burn. He swallowed a few times, leaned his head against the wall. Nothing like ruddy ripping out my heart again. At least, I know he did want me. We would have had a life after the war. No guarantees of happily ever after but we would had a chance. Tears burned down his cheeks. Sorry, Rob, I should have been there. His chest tightened painfully. Two months and it just kept hurting worse. Damn it, Rob, you should have taken me. Everyone keeps talking about how we have to move on. This just hurts more and more each day. I wish it would have been me.

Major Cole looked at Wellston. "You're heading out tomorrow?"

Wellston nodded. "I have other duties."

"So what's the verdict?"

Wellston sighed. "Major, I've only been here a week. Yet I have to wonder. You've run this unit for two, two and a half months. Have you tried to figure out why your command crew are the way they are? I've watched you use them, get their skills and services, but what are you doing to understand them out as people?"

"With all due respect, I'm not a shrink, Group Captain! I don't have the leisure to understand. We have missions to complete. We've done two in the week you've been here and that's slow."

"But you know Corporal Duncan plays a mean harmonica and that Corporal Simmons has family in Virginia. You know Private Summers has an array of girlfriends and Sergeant Blackwell enjoys painting. What does your command crew like?"

Cole flinched. "Carter's family lives in Indiana."

"And how many brothers and sisters does he have? What does Kinch do for fun? Does LeBeau have family?"

"I get your point, sir. Perhaps I haven't gotten to know them personally as I know others but I don't need their family history or even their affection. I need their obedience and respect."

"No, Major Cole. You seem to have forgotten. This isn't a simple fighting unit. These men risk their lives daily for no reward other than the knowledge of 'fighting the good fight'. If caught, the best, the very best, they can hope for is to be shot. This is not a typical job and they deserve far more than a typical commander. They need someone to look out for them. You care for the men, Major, I can see that. But your command crew needs special attention and you don't appear to do that. They are competent, devoted, but you need to win their loyalty. You prefer the Americans in this camp."

"I don't."

Wellston gave him a piercing look. "Then you present the image that you do. Frankly, Major, I saw that after a few days. What do you think your men see?" Major Cole bit back a sharp retort. Wellston studied him sympathetically. "These men will do what you ask," he said softly. "Just try to understand them."

"I'm guessing you don't recommend Rolston or Thompson."

"No. You may use whom you wish on a one shot mission or as backup but I will recommend your command crew stay as is. No one in this camp can match their skills and I'm sure you know that.

"You are very concerned about them."

"I gave Robert Hogan my word that I would care for his men."

Major Cole nodded. "All right. I can't say I agree with your decision but i understand it. Newkirk and Carter will take you to the rendezvous spot."

"No need." Group Captain Wellston stretched. "I simply need to get out of camp undetected."

"It's a long way to London cross country, sir."

Wellston laughed. "I'm not going to London." He tilted his head. "You're hardly the only spies in Germany, Major. Keep an eye out. You may see me again."

Major Cole chuckled. "I'll leave the camp spotlight on."

"Thank you." Wellston frowned thoughtfully. Do me a favor, Major. Have your medic--Wilson isn't it?" Cole nodded. "Have him check out your command crew physically. Some are looking a bit ragged."

"Sure. Good night."

"Good night, Major." And good luck. I'll be keeping an eye on Stalag 13.