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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"Excuse me, Colonel," Kinch said, poking his head inside Hogan's office.

Hogan quickly brought his hand down from his face and turned to the Sergeant at the door. Though the swelling had gone down quite a bit and his vision was clear, the tenderness remained. But having someone catch him trying to soothe the discomfort was not something Hogan was at ease with. He cleared his throat. "What is it, Kinch?"

"London's on the horn, Colonel."

"Thanks, Kinch." Hogan quickly headed down to the tunnel. It had been two days since he had last asked Kinch about London. He knew better than to play on the poor man's nerves that often. But Kinch was aware of his commanding officer's anxiety, and had shaken his head in silent answer every time their eyes met when Kinch came up from the tunnel.

"What is it, Colonel?" asked Newkirk, following him.

"Don't know yet."

Carter and Le Beau were already downstairs. Hogan gave them a surprised look.

"We have been anxious, too, mon Colonel," Le Beau explained, shrugging his shoulders.

Hogan nodded understanding and took the headsets from Kinch. "This is Papa Bear, this is Papa Bear, go ahead, Goldilocks, over." He listened. "That's a might big bowl of porridge you've got for us, Goldilocks," Hogan said after awhile. "Acknowledged, the bears are only out for a short walk, but…" Hogan scowled. Newkirk and Le Beau exchanged nervous glances. It sounded like Hogan was losing whatever argument this was, and whenever that happened they worried.

"What about Cinderella and Prince Charming?" Hogan asked, his face darkening. The answer obviously did not please him, as his frown increased and he unconsciously turned away from the others. "But they've got a wicked stepmother hot on their tails." Dark clouds gathered over Hogan's brows. "Well, tell me when, then!" The storm broke. The others shifted uncomfortably. Hogan still hadn't quite learned tact when he felt London was being unfair to his troupe. And when he was unhappy with London, that usually meant the men wouldn't be so pleased with their superiors either. "Understood, Goldilocks. Affirmative, we will obey orders. Papa Bear over and out."

Hogan tossed down the headsets, frustrated. Kinch gathered them quickly and put them back where they belonged. "That's great," Hogan muttered. "That's just great."

Le Beau dared to speak up. "What is it, Colonel?"

Hogan wrapped his arms around his body, looking at no one. "London wants us to start the sabotage mission in three days. They want us to split it up over two nights and report back as we go."

Newkirk considered the amount of work they had been given and said, "That seems reasonable, sir."

"It is. But they want us to leave Ludwig and Alida in the lurch until it's over. While German Bridge is falling down, the Gestapo could be stringing them up by their thumbs." Hogan grimaced, then looked at his men. "I tried explaining that, but London wouldn't budge."

"Why can't we get them out ourselves, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"With the Gestapo watching them?" Hogan countered. He shook his head tiredly. "We need London on this one. We can get them out of camp in the dog truck, but we're going to need transportation. It's the least London can do for people who've done so much for us." Hogan closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead wearily. This war was going to exhaust him. Heaving a sigh, he opened his eyes and got to work. "I suppose the least we can do is be ready. Newkirk, how's that tunnel going to the dog pen?"

"Working day and night, sir. The men are volunteering because it's hot work and they want to warm up a bit."

"So maybe this God-forsaken weather's good for something after all," Hogan said. "How much longer till it's done?"

"Hard to tell, gov'nor; they've been making good progress for the last week, but it's a long way off. If you're thinking about trying to use it to get Schultz's brother out, I think you'll be barking up the wrong tree, sir."

Hogan scowled again, then shook his head. "I know; you're right. The men are working as hard as they can. We're just going to have to bite the bullet on this one and hope for the best." Hogan rubbed a still-sore spot on his back. "Just pray that the Gestapo's best is pretty incompetent, at least until we can get them out."

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Hogan crept into the barn, his pistol drawn and ready. Drawing himself into the shadows, he tried to see in the darkness. Nothing. No one. Just the loud breathing of the nearby mare. Satisfied that no one had seen him approach, and that no one was observing him now, Hogan lowered his gun and felt his way over to the horse, standing patiently in her stall. Raising a hand to her head, Hogan gave the animal a small stroke. "Hey, there, old girl," he whispered gently. "Remember me?"

As if in answer, the horse gave a short snort and tossed her head up and down briefly, pushing her face into Hogan's neck and giving him a nudge that was not entirely unpleasant. He smiled mildly. Thank God for the innocence of animals. Giving her a pat, Hogan leaned his head against her neck for a moment, savouring the warmth of the beast, and fleetingly wished he could crawl into the stall next to her and get some of the heat back that he had lost on the way over from camp.

A sudden creak drew him away from his impossible thoughts. Pistol at the ready, Hogan straightened and leaned his back up against the wall. His eyes scanning continually, he looked around for any signs of an intruder. A shaft of thin moonlight drew a line on the barn floor, and Hogan watched as the line grew wider, and a shadow broke it, getting larger as someone moved into the building. A kerosene lamp suddenly appeared, attached to a heavy-coat-covered arm. Hogan waited, unmoving, unbreathing, until he saw the man that followed.

Ludwig. Letting out a breath of relief, Hogan relaxed and lowered his gun. "Colonel Hogan?" came the voice.

"I'm here," Hogan answered, emerging from the shadows. "Everything okay?"

"Yes; no one is watching. And even if they were, it would not be unusual for me to check on my animals, even at this hour of the night." Ludwig came to Hogan and placed his lamp on a nearby block of hay. "Now. You have news about getting Alida and myself away?"

Hogan grimaced. He didn't like what he had to say. "There's been a delay—"

Hogan didn't have a chance to get the rest of his well-rehearsed explanation out. "Donnerwetter!" Ludwig burst. "There cannot be a delay! We must get out now!"

Hogan had closed his eyes to the diatribe. He had no answer, knowing he would feel the same way. Still, he pressed on. "We're still going to get you out. But we have to get transportation for you and Alida. We can't send you out like everyone else; you're already under suspicion. We need London for that, and they need us to handle a couple of minor things first—like blowing up a munitions plant and a couple of bridges. Then they'll have the plane available to take you out of here."

Ludwig looked at Hogan, amazed. "Blowing up bridges? Getting us out by plane? What sort of prison camp are you in?"

"A very busy one—for the Allies," Hogan answered. He paused. "Look, I'm gonna come clean with you here. If we get you out first, the Gestapo may catch on to our operation, and we wouldn't get to complete the sabotage missions. If we do it later, we'll have a better chance of getting both goals accomplished. Once the Gestapo's involved, everyone has to tread very carefully."

Ludwig nodded. "You should know this," he observed. "I understand you have already had your fair share of meetings with them."

Hogan said nothing. He had never spoken to them of his encounters with the Gestapo. "Obviously, your brother is telling tales out of school," he finally said quietly.

"He did not name the person at Stalag 13 whom they are targeting." Ludwig pointed to a still-forceful bruise on Hogan's face. "But it would seem obvious that it is you. Yet you still do this."

Fighting to remain emotionless, Hogan said simply, "It's my job. I follow orders."

Ludwig nodded, now satisfied that he was dealing with a man with integrity. "It is more than a job when a man is willing to risk so much. It is a cause. A belief. You are strong, Colonel Hogan. So Alida and I shall be as well. We can wait for you to blow up your bridges. You get us out when you are done." He stopped and gave an amused chuckle. "If only Hans knew what he is guarding!"

Hogan smiled, then, thinking about his conversation with the guard the previous day, he said, "He's worried about you. Thinks there's something you're not telling him."

"Ah, well there is, isn't there? However, I am not about to tell him—he does not like to get involved in anything to do with the war. To him, it is a matter of self-preservation." Ludwig stopped, reconsidering. "That does not make him a coward, Colonel Hogan," Ludwig said, almost defensively. "He is a good man, a brave man. He would do anything for me, for his family, for my family. But he is so kind-hearted that I think the war hurts him, inside. He does not see sides; he sees people, and he cannot think of how to make it better."

Hogan considered Schultz and all he had done since Hogan had arrived in camp. "He is making it better," Hogan assured Ludwig. "One person at a time." He looked out the small window above their heads. The moon had risen higher and had cast them in pale light. "I'd better get back to camp. Thanks for understanding. I promise you we won't leave it too long." Ludwig nodded. "When you hear a few well-connected explosions, you'll know you're that much closer to getting out."

Ludwig smiled and extended his hand. "We cannot thank you enough. Godspeed."