No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended. The character of Joe Wilson belongs to L. J. Groundwater.

Chapter Ten: Discoveries

The next day, several things happened in quick succession.

Hogan kept on the lookout for Helga. He knew that she usually arrived just before nine in the morning, getting off the bus that brought her from Dusseldorf to a farmhouse about a half mile from the camp. Usually, one or the other of the guards ran out in Klink's command car and brought her in, particularly if the weather was bad. By nine thirty, Hogan was reliably sure that she wouldn't show up until the next sleeping episode was over.

Then, as he leaned back against the barracks door, wishing he could drink another cup of coffee, blowing on his hands in the cold and dreaming up all the ways his current plan could go wrong, Carter poked his head out of the barracks.

"Colonel?" he said. "DuBois has something he wants to tell you."

"I'll be in in a moment, Carter," Hogan said, with one last glance out at the gate before moving inside.

DuBois was sitting at the table, a few pages spread out before him. "Colonel Hogan? I think I've deconstructed the chemical make up of the formula that's making you all sleep."

"Good! Can you come up with an antidote?" Hogan asked, staring down at the indescipherable mathematical squiggles and chemical symbols on the page.

"In time…" DuBois said. "But you should know that this is no simple tranquilizer."

"It's not?" Hogan said, pulling out a chair and sitting down before the chemist.

"No. I don't know how they've done it, but this formula is a chemical time bomb. Have you ever wondered why everyone seemed to go to sleep at once, even though the Nazis certainly can't be sure they've drunk the water at the same time?"

"Now that you mention it…" Hogan said. "…you're right. I didn't think of that."

"No. Well, there's a triggering mechanism that is very finely tuned. A true feat of chemical engineering. Somehow, you can tell the drug to take effect at exactly the same time, just so long as you've had a drink or even just touched water within 24 hours. It's peculiar. And also — very dangerous."

"This has to be what the top secret project is," Hogan realized, smacking himself on the forehead. "What a sap I've been!"

"I'm sure you're right, Colonel," DuBois answered. "The more I analyze this drug, the more certain I am this is a form of chemical warfare."

"Chemical warfare?"

"Think of the effect mustard gas had on the troops during World War I. That was a form of chemical warfare. This is much more dangerous — because it is much more insidious. You can slip it into the water supply of a battalion of soldiers, and you've won a battle without firing a single shot. You can slip it into the reservoir of a civilian town or city — and walk in and take over, again bloodlessly."

"We have to get this information to London," Hogan said.

"I've distilled my notes into a condensed format and your sergeant is already relaying them. You told me that there is an antidote, so that must be my next goal, to find it. Oh, and Colonel?"

"Hmmm?"

"There is a great deal of danger to all of you in repeated doses of this drug. Your man, LeBeau, may be the first to experience it. I had a conversation with your medic, um…"

"Wilson," Hogan supplied.

"Yes. And he is correct that the drug does something strange to the heart, particularly to smaller men."

Hogan swallowed. "Well, I hope that after today we'll never have to take it again," he said. "If my plan comes off."

"Which means I must get back to work," DuBois said, scraping his chair out as he rose. "I will take my leave of you now."

Hogan rose as well, putting out a hand. "Thank you," he said.

"Not yet," DuBois replied, already frowning in concentration. "Thank me when I've found the antidote."

Hogan went back outside, turning up the collar of his leather bomber jacket. It was getting cold again and it smelled like snow. When does it not smell like snow around here? Hogan thought idly, pushing his hands deep into his pockets. Then he stopped letting stray thoughts distract him and put his mind back to work on ironing out the details.

A few minutes later, Kinch stuck his head out the door. Hogan saw the look on his face and took the two steps over to him.

"London," Kinch said, stepping outside, shutting the door behind him, and handing his commander a folded piece of paper.

Hogan opened it up and smacked his forehead. "They've got to be kidding!" he exclaimed.

"They're not," Kinch said. "I made them repeat it three times. Finally, I got a very exasperated lef-tentant on the other end of the line." Kinch let his voice slip into his most ornate Oxfordian accent. "I don't know what to tell you, old boy," he mimicked. "I realize it's a rum go for you chaps. But it's frightfully important you obey orders, wot?"

"Do they realize this means the end of everything?" Hogan asked. "The camp, the operation, everything?"

"We always knew that was a possibility, Colonel," Kinch said, serious once more.

"Okay," Hogan said, refolding the piece of paper and slipping it into a pocket. Kinch could tell that he had made up his mind about something — and it was evident that he would not be telling his sergeant what he was thinking. "Tell Bouchet I need to have a chat with him."

"Sure thing, Colonel," Kinch said. He was about to head back into the barracks when the opening of the gate caught both men's eyes. They swung around and watched as a black command car came barreling into the compound, gravel skittering as it came to a halt outside Klink's office.

"Ah!" Hogan said, as General Burkhalter eased his bulk out of the back seat, followed by Major Hochstetter who looked like he was about to jump out of his skin. Dr. Schmedler slunk out of the other side, standing and looking around at the camp as the car drove off, blinking rapidly. Klink, as though on cue, came running out onto the porch before his office, gesturing receptively with his swagger stick and fixing his monocle in his eye all at once.

"My talk with Bouchet will have to wait, Kinch. I'll come in after I've seen what's going on in there," Hogan added, with a flip of his chin toward the three men.

Burkhalter serenely ignored Klink's profusions of welcome and sailed on past him into the office, elbowing the Colonel and making him stagger a little. Hochstetter showed him, with one acid-laced "Hah!" how he felt, and followed Burkhalter into the office. Schmedler scuttled after them. Klink, masking his annoyance with his widest smile, followed them in.

"We'll listen in, Colonel," Kinch murmured and headed inside.

His chin jutting in determination, Hogan started across the compound.