Two successfully destroyed German transports that had planned to deliver new weaponry to an airfield and one assassination-looking-like-an-accident of a general later, Hogan felt like they were back in the game for real.
No even the inspection of the camp on a day the first snow came down like sleet gave them any trouble. Klink came out of it with flying colors and a commendation that wouldn't get him transferred anywhere, though he did his usual spiel at a promotion to general. Burkhalter, who had been present throughout, had only sneered at that and driven off without so much as a dinner. He claimed he had another appointment.
Hogan knew he was staying in town and there would be an excessive party, the inspector included.
"Don't you think they might one day just make you a general to shut you up?" Hogan teased as he joined the other man.
They watched the car disappear down the road, flurries drifting through the wind. It was getting uncomfortable and while they had been given some fuel to run their ovens, Hogan knew they had to fall back on their emergency storage soon. With the way the war was going for Germany, the men in charge had other problems than keeping their prisoners, and their guards, warm. Everyone was by now aware that things were turning around, were taking a downturn actually, and that the Allied Forces were pushing forward.
Still, for all the cheer after those news, they were cold.
"If the war efforts get any more desperate, maybe," was the amused answer. "But I suspect I would be a general near the front lines."
Hogan's eyes narrowed and there was a surge between them, but Klink's smooth little slap had him startle. He chuckled.
"Don't worry, Robert, I'm not going anywhere," Klink said softly, just loud enough for a Sentinel to hear.
"Damn right you aren't," was the fervent reply before the American colonel caught himself. He drew in a brief breath, expelling it again. "By the way," he said more cheerfully. "I have a request."
"Whatever it is, the answer is no," Klink answered automatically, shooting Hogan a warning look.
"It's more of a favor, really."
"Even worse. Denied."
They headed toward the Kommandantur, Hogan accepting the challenge.
**HH**HH**
The men watched the Sentinel and his Guide walk away. Newkirk was playing with a coin, frowning.
"They do realize how in sync they are, right? Or is it just me?"
Carter shook his head. "Nope. Not just you."
Kinchloe leaned against the barrack's wall. "It's complicated, guys."
No one had ever tried to talk to their commanding officer about the arrangement he had with Klink again. Not even Kinch. They just watched, shook their heads, waited and shook their heads some more.
"It's daft. Colonel's got instincts, even if those troubleshooters think they don't. Klink's a bleedin' Guide and you can't tell me he's not Colonel Hogan's. Everyone can see it! It's been how long now?"
"Complicated," Kinch repeated. "But I'll give it to you, it's painful to watch. Not getting better in time."
Newkirk pocketed the coin. "They'll blow up before they get anywhere," he muttered and disappeared in the building.
Carter shrugged. "Or they won't. I mean, they haven't so far. And the Colonel still enjoys playing the game."
Kinch stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, the game."
They migrated back inside, escaping the cold that was common this time of the year.
**HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH**
The game was getting serious when Hochstetter made another appearance, but Klink was Klink. He played the Kommandant flawlessly, the whine and wheedle to his voice so real, even Hogan was convinced.
It was also the first time he felt the soft empathic pushes, the way Will wrapped this persona around himself, let it seep into his very being, reflected it at the people he met, and it was jaw-dropping.
Hochstetter believed it. Absolutely.
It was amazing.
Terrifying, really.
It cemented the fact that Klink wasn't just any easily overlooked, normal Guide. And he was just as manipulative and good at it as Hogan had always believed himself to be.
This was more than just good acting. It was a mental effort, one that encompassed the whole visiting cadre of Gestapo officers, and it looked so damned easy, too!
The Major appeared a lot more distracted than usual, but that could be because the war was not going Hitler's way. There had been more and more – not faked – reports about losses, about the Allied Forces gaining ground in the west and the Russians approaching from the east.
Unrest was growing.
And worries.
Hochstetter made rather superficial inspections and was gone within hours, proclaiming an important guest would be housed at the Stalag within the next week before he was flown out of Germany.
"Interesting," Hogan murmured and glanced at Klink, who didn't twitch even the slightest.
**HH**HH**
He was in the Kommandant's office no fifteen minutes later, eyebrows rising in a silent question when he walked into the room, past a very watchful Hilda.
"You are good, Will," he said when the doors were locked.
"You had a doubt?" was the light reply.
"Nope. First time I saw it on a different level, though."
"With your senses." Will nodded. "You never let them roam before."
"I never had reason to believe there was anything out of the ordinary going on. You're amazing."
"Anything to survive."
Hogan stopped next to the desk where Klink was standing, getting as close as he dared without actually touching the other man. He had respected him before that, but now he was in silent awe, maybe even a little scared what the other Colonel could do. It was a scare that had him want to see more, walk that fine line between safety and danger, feel the thrill. The adrenaline was addictive.
Something shivered between them and Klink gave him a startled look. Hogan frowned in confusion.
"You're pushing it, Hogan. Dangerously."
"I didn't do anything!"
"You're getting too close," was the soft sigh. Klink didn't move away, though. He leaned against his desk, Hogan perched slightly on it, too. "You've always been too close."
"You let me."
"Yes. Lately it has been… more. The training, the talks, spending time together."
"You're not saying no to it."
"It's a supremely bad idea."
"You're not saying no," Hogan repeated.
"I can't."
He cocked his head, suddenly curious, attention focusing more on the other man. "How so?"
Klink didn't look at him. "I had a lot of time to be introspective lately. Maybe too much time. With everything that happened, how open we are, vulnerable…" He stopped and removed the monocle, sliding it into a pocket. "In this game, we both need every edge we can get. I confess to… finding your openness balancing, too. In all that time we went up against the likes of Hochstetter and Burkhalter, I was never alone. You were there. You didn't know about my abilities to get out of those perceived tight-spots back then, but you bent over backwards to save me. I started to rely on you, in a way. It… helped… to have you there as I played them."
Hogan opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut again. "Oh," he managed.
"I've always only manipulated or shielded. I'm on my own. I know myself, my strengths, my weaknesses. I never let a Sentinel as close as you have come already. I didn't think much of it, having a troubleshooter here in the camp, working alongside but blind to me. Unaware of the other operative with him. I was probably too secure in my abilities to hide. You broke in, Hogan."
"I… really?" he blurted. Something that could only be described as warmth blossomed, for some reason.
Klink laughed humorlessly, slowly shaking his head. "And you didn't even know. I knew I could trust you to keep me in the camp, as your slightly too incompetent keeper and Kommandant. You wouldn't let them remove me, replace me. You wore down something…" He briefly closed his eyes and sighed. "All those arguments, the wheedling, the demands, the back and forth between us… I know it set you back on track, kept you running for one more day, one more week, until I had to prod you into the right direction again. But me… I feel like I'm heading somewhere I never wanted to end up, facing a situation I never wanted to be confronted with." Blue eyes opened and looked at him. "You're asking for more than I could ever fathom to give you, Robert. But it… makes manipulating Hochstetter or Burkhalter so much easier when I let you in. It's a safety net I never thought of before. It's also a chain that promises freedom and imprisonment in one."
Hogan pushed off the desk, agitation racing through him. "I wouldn't put any chains on you and you know it! We talked about it, Will! I'm as independent as you are! For different reasons, sure, but neither of us needs a permanent partner! I don't want this to be more than a surface connection!"
Liar! came a deep rumble from inside him. Blatant liar! You want him.
Klink slowly shook his head. "That is your illusion to maintain, Hogan."
His breath caught at the words. Too much. It was too much. The emotions were boiling up, seeking an outlet. They had been dancing this dance for so long, and now that he knew his dance partner, he wanted so much more. Hearing that Klink had leaned on him as much as Hogan had on him, though the Sentinel had probably been a lot more work already, gave him hope.
"We're on a one-way street," Klink continued softly. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed changes in you, too?"
He had. So many. How he thrived, how he was sharper, more focused, than ever before. It was so much like back in the States or in England, before his assignment to Stalag 13. Missions were still complex, needed all of him, on point and sharp, but decompressing was different. Easier. So much easier. He was on top of his game, better than ever before, and he knew it. His men had remarked on it.
Because his anchor was no longer Kinch or someone else he knew. It was Klink. He focused on Klink, his heartbeat, his presence, and things evened out, slipped in their places, and Robert Hogan was calm, even-tempered and rebalanced.
"I dropped my guard, Robert. That's why."
"I… I'm not aware of less shields," he murmured. "I mean, I still barely get a whiff of the real you, Will."
There was a sudden warmth, a sensation of someone close and touching, and Hogan whirled around, breath quickening, then his eyes were back on the Guide.
Klink smiled ruefully.
"That… that is what you do to Hochstetter?"
"No. Him I manipulate, push and suggest, brush away suspicion and keep him confused. You… I balance. You are familiar now. Eerily so. You feel comfortable to me. I'm comfortable to you. Which is why you don't realize how much you psychically lean on me. It's why you can't feel my touch, even if I leave the door open."
"Because you can… trust me?" Hogan breathed, daring to hope.
"I'm beginning to."
His hands balled into fists and he fought down the impulse to touch again.
Wilhelm Klink trusted him. This powerful Guide had started to trust him! Robert Hogan!
Fuck! he thought viciously, cursing the war, this situation, his inability to handle coming into contact with the one gifted individual who was his counterpart. They were dancing around what was happening in ever-tightening circles, but Hogan had no idea of the outcome.
"I can see the… benefits of such a partnership," Klink went on slowly.
Partnership…
Hogan was really hard pressed to stay where he was, not to touch or just surge forward and…
"Not an arrangement?" he asked, proud of how calm he sounded while everything inside him was total chaos.
The smile was almost regretful. "Not for a while."
"So I'm helpful?" he added, the hopeful note quickly squashed.
"Yes, Colonel Hogan. You are actually helpful."
He beamed.
Not a threat, he thought giddily. He wasn't seen as a threat alone. He helped Klink, he supported him, just like the Guide had become his safety net and support. His Guide.
The next surge held a possessive note and he ground his teeth briefly.
"Who is coming for dinner?" Hogan asked, abruptly changing the topic before he did something they would both regret.
He was still on a mission.
Klink looked a little startled, then nodded his acceptance of the rather blunt change. They both needed time to digest the open words, what they actually said, and what it would further and irrevocably change between them.
"Dr. Karl-Heinz Günter von Haupt. One of the lead scientists of bio weapon research."
Hogan frowned.
"Together with Dr. Wolfram Baumann. He's apparently developing a new kind of rocket that is supposed to deliver these bio weapons."
The frown grew deeper, Hogan's expression colder. "And they will be here?"
Klink nodded slowly.
"For how long?"
"Apparently for a while. Other locations have proven to be… less secure than this camp. Everyone knows I run a tight ship that no one has ever escaped from here." There was a glint in Klink's eyes.
A slow, dark smile crossed the colonel's lips. "Well, yes, we are a perfectly safe place to be, aren't we? Especially for Hitler's science division."
Klink reflected the smile.
It had Hogan shiver. In a really good way.
He clenched his teeth.
"I'll have a few plans to work on," he managed instead.
"I'll see you around, Colonel."
When he left the building there was a spring in his step and he knew he was smiling, both because he had a new, insane plan to hatch, and because of what had been said, even between the lines.
**HH**HH**
His men noticed the chance immediately and while no one mentioned it, he got some approving nods.
Right now they had to talk to London, wait for their decision on what to do about the scientists.
**HH**HH**
London decided the men were too dangerous. They had to be removed from the equation as soon as possible; permanently. And before they arrived at Stalag 13. It would be too dangerous to plan a hit within their moderately safe little haven.
**HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH****HH**HH**
For all his detailed planning and genius ideas, sometimes things went wrong for Hogan.
Like this night.
It had all been running perfectly, keeping the action away from Stalag 13, grabbing the scientists en route and far enough away from the camp to divert suspicion.
Except for the sudden appearance of an additional security detail they hadn't known about and a patrol unit that shouldn't have been in the area, and that wasn't from Stalag 13.
Adjustments had been made, but not before matters had sped up and required Colonel Wilhelm Klink to interfere and distract the men, who were confused about the Luftwaffe Colonel in their midst.
**HH**HH**
When Carter's bombs blew up, it was right on time and still too early.
Hogan grabbed Klink and ran, but they didn't get far. The explosion rocked the very earth, shattering windows of near-by houses, leveling the shed, turning everything inside to dust.
Including the research and the researchers.
Hogan felt the breath leave his lungs as he was thrown against a wall, the ancient bricks buckling under the impact. He slumped to the ground, groaning softly.
A sharp pain in his side had him breathe out a curse, but there was no time to check what else might have happened.
They had to go.
Now!
"Will," he breathed.
"We need to go," the Guide agreed, sounding shaky but determined.
Running, senses spread out to evade human encounters or obstacles, he tore through the forest, Klink right behind him, easily keeping up. His Guide kept him focused, Sight and Hearing primed, perfectly balanced within, and Hogan gave his absolute trust in Will's abilities to not let him lose himself.
It took them barely five minutes to find their way back to the clearing where the car was parked, and LeBeau was rolling before they had even closed the doors.
Hogan let out a breathy laugh, followed by a groan of pain.
"Colonel?"
"Just a graze, LeBeau. Drive. Get us out of here before this place starts swarming with Germans."
Klink didn't even look at where they were heading, simply turned to the Sentinel and pushed aside black fabric to get to where a piece of shrapnel had torn into the vulnerable human flesh.
Hogan had to bite down hard and his fingers clenched around Klink's wrist.
"Let me go," Klink said, voice low and hard, pushing the order at the injured man. "This needs to be treated."
"It can wait. We have to get back."
"LeBeau is driving. Let me see."
He closed his eyes, fingers still holding on to his Guide's wrist. He blew out a breath, then sucked it in sharply again when Klink pushed down to staunch the still freely flowing blood.
"Bad?" LeBeau asked, glancing into the rearview mirror.
"Not good," was the clipped answer. "I think we can handle this without an outside doctor."
"Good," Hogan groaned, senses starting to swim.
Klink pushed down harder and the Sentinel cursed vividly. There was another push, this time against his mind, and Hogan dropped his shields before he could even think about it. He wasn't even sure he had been the one to do it.
The sensation was like a rush, like getting high or drunk, like flying, like falling through the sky with a parachute on his back. His eyes snapped open and met the bright blue ones of his Guide. He was suddenly aware of their continued contact of skin against skin, his fingers clamped around Kling's slender wrist.
"W…"
"Concentrate, Colonel. Tune down the pain. Dull your senses."
He wanted to snarl at Klink that he had been doing just that for ages, but another part was fascinated by the power he could perceive just inches away from him. Klink had lowered his shields, gave the Sentinel a good view of him.
A show of absolute trust.
Not the final step, not inside a moving vehicle, racing back to the camp and away from the very place they had just killed two people and destroyed years of excellent work.
"Dial it all down to zero."
"Zero," he echoed breathlessly.
"Klink?" Le Beau could be heard.
"Drive, Corporal. I'm handling the rest."
"Relax," Will told the Sentinel. "Trust me. I've got you."
A very primal part inside him wanted to grab what was so enticingly close, what he yearned for, what was his to claim. It boiled up from the darkness, ancient, like a shadow, but powerful on its own. Its claws stretched toward the alluring mind so close, hungry and salivating to possess and never let go.
It got slapped so hard, Hogan rocked back and cried out from the physical and mental pain.
Then there was nothing at all.
tbc...