Chapter Eleven: Further Into Madness
Schultz heard yelling and screaming apparently coming from the center of the earth. If he were completely insane, he knew that he would give the alarm about a thunderstorm that was occurring underneath the barracks. Of course, he knew better. There were no tunnels, Hogan and his men were simply prisoners of war, and he was a very clever sergeant trying to survive this war the best way that he could. He turned around and saw one of the replacements sneaking near Barracks two.
Schultz came closer, wondering what this replacement was doing there. "Private! Did you lose anything here?" he asked in a genuinely helpful, though rather serious, tone.
Completely startled, König jumped to attention and saluted. "No, sir! I just was-"
"Don't call me sir! Do I look like an officer to you? Quick, what's your name, boy?"
"K-König, si- Sergeant!" He jumped again.
Schultz almost laughed at the poor man's nervousness. It felt so good playing the bad sergeant once in a while. However, everybody who knew him well knew that there was not an inch of badness in him. Soon, his features softened. "Tell me, König, have you heard anything around here?"
König held his breath. He had indeed heard the noise. But this was an undercover operation. Doctor Frakes would place his head on a silver platter if he revealed what he knew. "N-no, sir, I mean, Sergeant. Did you?"
"Nein, nein! The prisoners must be asleep." Schultz straightened up. All the while, he was thinking I heard nothing, nothing! "Go back to your post and stop sneaking about."
König saluted and went away. He realized that he would have to wait for another opportunity to get closer to the barracks.
Schultz waited until he was alone. He wanted to knock at Hogan's door and find out what the problem was. But he did not, not yet at least. He turned and kept walking. His round would concentrate right in that area though, just in case.
HHH
"Stop it Newkirk, let him go!" Kinch was now on Newkirk's back, trying to force him to loosen his grip on Hogan's neck. "You're choking him!" Kinch wore an expression of complete surprise. In all the years that he had known his friend, he never saw him hurt any of his mates.
"You killed me father, you bloody bastard! You deserve to die!" Newkirk spat with absolute fury showing in both his voice and his face. He didn't feel Carter pulling him by his left leg or LeBeau biting him on one wrist. All he felt was anger towards this man, anger about the actions that he had done. Finally, his two friends succeeded in throwing him to the other side of the room.
Before he could get up and make a beeline for Hogan, Carter sat down on him. Meanwhile, Kinch ran to fetch a rope from the toolbox.
"Quick! I can't hold him much longer!" Carter yelped while enduring some punches from his friend, before rolling over on one side.
"Get off me, you nitwit!" Newkirk stood up as fast as his broken leg allowed him. By then, Hogan was already on his feet and LeBeau had a pistol in his hand. "What do you think you're doing? 'E's a traitor! 'E's not the colonel!"
"Newkirk, you've lost your mind," Carter said, all the while worry, more than fear, showing on his face.
Newkirk turned to face Carter with an incredulous expression. "You've got to ask? You've been playing with me mind for the last time! All of you!" He gave LeBeau no time to react. In one swift motion, Newkirk pulled Carter to his side in order to use him as a shield. "The gun, little man."
Hogan shrugged. "Do it, LeBeau." He signaled Kinch to make way for Newkirk to go out.
The Englishman aimed the gun at Carter's head and dragged him to the emergency exit. Carter did not offer any resistance to this action. He was not concerned at all that Newkirk would really shoot him; there was only concern for his actions. "We're friends, Peter-" he tried to start in a comforting tone.
"I 'aven't got any friends!" Newkirk reached the ladder and pushed Carter away.
"Well, treating us like this certainly makes it a little hard, I guess." Carter saw him disappear through the hatch. He would have liked to grab Newkirk's arm and pin him down. Maybe a heart-to-heart will do him some good. Hogan quickly came over to stop him.
"Let him go, you don't want him to open fire on us," Hogan said. "The sentinels will catch him outside."
Carter looked at the ladder. "But, what if he shoots one of the guards?" In his mental condition, he could do just about anything! Carter thought the words that he dared not to speak out loud.
Since Hogan hadn't thought of that, all he could do was sigh. Both men knew that if Newkirk opened fire first, there was an excellent chance that fire would be returned. "Details, details," he mumbled as he signaled for his men to follow him. "I'll go after him. Carter, go get Schultz. Make sure no one goes trigger happy on us."
"What about Klondike?" LeBeau asked, pointing at the tunnels.
"Who?" Hogan shook his head back-and-forth. "One crisis at a time, LeBeau. Okay?" He went outside through the emergency exit.
Newkirk ran without any clue regarding where to go or what to do. Should he find the Underground? Should he get back to England? None of those questions that he would normally and rationally think of entered his brain at the moment. The only thing that he noticed was that his leg hurt like hell, which slowed him down considerably. He ended up turning the wrong way and tumbled onto a guard. One glance was all it took for him to recognize the face.
"Hamilton!"
"Shh!" König didn't know what to do at first. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Suddenly, there was another question that had just entered into his mind. "Where are you coming from?"
Newkirk felt pain forming in the back of his head, and he immediately recognized it as the start of one of his fearsome headaches. He stepped back, horrified by what it symbolized. "It's you! You've been doing this to me!"
König moved forward, trying to present a friendly air about him. "Please, you've got to tell me. There are tunnels around here, isn't there? The sabotage, the escapes, the entire operation starts under this Stalag, doesn't it? Everything is true, right?"
The headache was so intense as to blur Newkirk's vision. "Bloody damn questions! Why don't you stop asking so many ruddy questions'!" He stumbled backward a couple of steps and dropped the pistol.
König picked it up and aimed at him, causing Newkirk's eyes to grow wide. "Don't move, please."
HHH
Outside the barracks, Carter had located Schultz walking nearby. Pulling on his sleeve, he exclaimed in an urgent matter, "Please, Schultzie, this is an emergency!"
"What kind of emergency?" the German sergeant asked while staring warily at him. "Did LeBeau run out of spices or you run out of explosives..." He stopped and shuddered. "I didn't say that."
"No, Schultz. It's Newkirk." Carter had to breathe deeply before continuing. "H-he... er... Well, he is outside and..."
"Outside where?"
Carter pointed towards the woods. "He's out of his mind... He thinks he's somewhere else and pointed at me with a pistol..."
Schultz grabbed Carter by the arms. "A what? Boy, calm down, you're talking nonsense. Where is Newkirk?" He didn't even want to know or think about where Newkirk could have found a gun.
"Out there," Carter said as he kept pointing at the trees. "He's just-" There was no need to finish his sentence, as Schultz was already blowing his whistle and running towards the gate. Carter ran after him. With all the commotion, he had forgotten about the don't shoot Newkirk part.
HHH
Hogan followed the path he assumed Newkirk had taken. It was a familiar one that they had often used on their missions. He soon heard voices and quickly sped up.
"I don't want to hurt you," König said while getting closer.
Newkirk crawled back in fear that was disguised as anger. "Don't get any closer to me!"
Hogan appeared at one side of the clearing. He saw the pistol in König's hand and stopped cold. "Newkirk, can you stand up?"
The Englishman did it slowly. He stared at Hogan and then, König and chuckled. "So, what're you planning, tearing me in 'alf? Because I'm not going with any one of you, mates" he said, spitting out the last word.
"Newkirk, you're not thinking straight." Hogan feared that his man would start talking about things no one else should know regarding their missions. He turned to König with his best poker face. "He's having a bad day. Surely, we can fix this without anyone else's intervention." Or without anyone getting hurt…or worse.
"Oh, surely," Newkirk snorted. "Now, make me believe you don't know each other."
König felt Hogan's eyes on him and he lowered his head. Even though he was in a Luft Stalag instead of a doctor's uniform, he knew that Hogan seemed clever enough to recognize his face from the hospital.
"Really?" Hogan frowned. But before he could say what was on his mind, two German shepherds dragged Sergeant Schultz into the scene.
"Nobody moves!" he ordered. After a second of wrestling with the dogs, he managed to pass their leashes to another guard, who happened to be Langenscheidt. "What is going on here? Colonel Hogan, don't tell me that you finally decided to abandon this camp." He turned to Newkirk. "You rascal! How could you do this to me? At this hour, with this weather?"
Newkirk rolled his eyes. He shook his head and clenched it in his hands. The situation was quickly escalating to nightmarish levels. Who was on his side? Who would stay with him? Had everybody gone crazy?
HHH
Colonel Klink woke up to the barking of dogs and the sound of the alarm. He waited in his quarters for a couple of minutes before dressing, and then he went to his office. Tired of waiting, he adventured outside into the darkness. The group was still gathered outside the fence.
"What is this?" he said, pointing his flashlight at each face that lay in front of him. "Colonel Hogan! Carter, Newkirk! Why are these prisoners outside the barracks? Why are they outside the Stalag?" He put the light on Langenscheidt, before turning it to Schultz. "Explain, Sergeant!"
"Kommandant Klink," Schultz saluted and smiled, albeit very nervously.
"Allow me, sir-" Hogan started his speech but he was soon interrupted.
"I don't need your explanations just yet, Hogan. Schultz, I need your report. Now!"
Schultz saluted again. "Komman-"
"Skip that part!" Klink barked.
"Approximately at ten hundred hours, Sergeant Carter, a prisoner, came to inform me that one of his fellow prisoners had escaped." He stammered, trying to prevent Newkirk's name from being mentioned.
"Escaped?" Klink stared at Carter. "Why did you report him? Are you switching sides now?"
"Me? No way!" Carter turned to Hogan who simply shrugged.
Schultz went on. "Kommandant. The escapee had a gun with him and the prisoner Carter feared that he might-"
"A gun?" Klink and Hogan asked at the same time; one of them was truly surprised, while the other man only feigned it.
Schultz stepped back. "I- I didn't see it!" He said and turned to König. "He must know; he got to the prisoner first."
König held his breath. Suddenly, he had been thirsted into the spotlight. So much for keeping a low profile he thought to himself. He turned to Hogan and Newkirk, then back to Klink.
"Well? Did he or didn't he have a gun?" Klink crossed his arms over his chest. "Speak up!"
"N-no sir, he didn't," König said, putting the pistol away before either Klink or Schultz could spot it.
Carter raised his eyebrows, while Hogan frowned. Newkirk was too furious to understand what had just happened.
"Maddening," he whispered. "'As everybody gone barmy now?" Suddenly, he felt that his legs would not support him for much longer. The adrenaline that he had been operating on was just about to give out. Carter was already next to him, ready to support his friend. He knew that he would have fallen, if it wasn't for his supposed mate to keep him from collapsing to the ground.
"It's okay, Peter. Don't worry," Carter said in a protective tone. "Just lean against me." For a brief moment, it appeared as though everything was right with the world.
"Corporal Newkirk?" Klink directed his light on him. "Aren't you happy with us anymore?"
"Colonel Klink," Hogan said. "Things are not going too well for Newkirk. He's-"
"Shut your bloody mouth up!" Newkirk yelled. Any comfort that he had received from Carter had vanished upon hearing his Colonel's first words. "You're driving me crazy!" He made an attempt to charge over and attack Hogan but Carter was successful in holding his weakened friend back.
All of the guards except for Langenscheidt aimed at them and Schultz had to step forward. "Halt!"
"There's no need to shoot," Klink said. "Colonel Hogan, what's going on with your men? You're losing your touch."
"As I told you, Newkirk is not himself today." Hogan kept a mostly quiet front, choosing his words very carefully. "I trust that you won't be too hard on him."
"Hard? I was thinking of three days in the cooler." Klink came closer, studying the corporal carefully for the first time that night. "Newkirk, you don't look well. Maybe you should take him with you, Colonel. If you promise to keep him quiet-"
"Me?" Hogan reacted on cue. "I don't think I could handle him, sir." He ignored Carter's surprised look. "Corporal Newkirk has been disrespectful and daring. He tried to escape, for Goodness' sake. You may handle a punishment better."
"You bloody traitor!" Newkirk struggled to free himself from Carter's grip, but it was to no avail. Schultz was ready to intervene in case the young sergeant could not hold him. "I should've killed you when I 'ad the chance!"
"All right, three days in the cooler. Maybe that will calm you down." Klink didn't need to hear any more to be convinced.
"Bloody enemies always stab you in the back." Newkirk narrowed his eyes, staring at both Hogan and Carter.
"And true friends stab you in the front," [1] Hogan told him while the guards took the Englishman away.
"Why is he so mad at you, Colonel Hogan?" Klink asked.
"I canceled the poetry contest." Hogan shrugged.
"You know how the British are very serious about their poetry," Carter chimed in. "Why, one time there was a poetry reading at the local library in Muncie, and…" However, one of Hogan's glares stopped the sergeant before he could go off on a tangent.
Klink nodded. "Schultz, take them back to the barracks." He walked ahead, leading the way.
Carter turned to go back in the direction of the tunnel entrance but Hogan pulled his arm to follow the German sergeant and corporal. He waited for König to join the party.
"New around here?" Hogan glanced at him.
"Yes, sir," König whispered and pulled up the collar of his coat. He wouldn't talk any more than that.
HHH
Back inside the Stalag, Hogan entered the barracks first. Carter came in later. Neither of them looked happy. LeBeau was already cooking dinner, but he stopped immediately once they were both inside. Turning to face his friends, it took him just one glance to see the sergeant's disappointment. Carter threw himself on his bunk and took a deep breath.
Hogan ignored him. He didn't want to engage in any dead-end arguments. He sat, elbows on the table, with his hands supporting his face.
"That rough, eh?" LeBeau moved from the stove to the table with a mug of coffee, and sat next to him. "What happened?"
"What happened?" Carter repeated, still lying down on his bunk. "Newkirk lost his marbles and the colonel-"
"There was nothing else I could do, Carter," Hogan said, making an effort to keep his voice under reasonable levels.
"Where is he now?" LeBeau insisted.
"In the cooler. We'll get him out." Carter shrugged.
"Not tonight. I want him to calm down before we talk again. Why do you think I put him there in the first place?" Hogan asked.
"But, Colonel," Carter sat up. "Newkirk is sick, he needs help now."
Kinch was coming up from the tunnels just in time to catch up with the conversation. He sat down on his bunk and listened.
"Maybe we could sneak Wilson into the cooler. See what he can do," LeBeau said.
"Yeah. We can't abandon Newkirk just like that. He's our friend." Carter sighed. "He wouldn't let us down like this."
"We're not letting him down." Hogan rubbed his neck. The exhaustion and bad news of the night were playing a full symphony headache inside his head. "He just needs some time off."
"Newkirk tried to kill Colonel Hogan," Kinch said. "And he put a gun against your head, Carter."
"Oh, he didn't mean it... He wouldn't shoot," Carter tried to smile. "He wouldn't, would he?"
The stares of the others answered with an unfortunate yes.
"Whatever they did is playing a huge number in Newkirk's mind…I told you guys he was brainwashed!" Carter shouted, jumping up from his bunk to sit down at the table.
"But he was doing so well. Just this morning, he was okay," LeBeau shook his head sadly. "What could've happened?"
"Newkirk said that the colonel is an impostor. What if we have been working with the wrong guy? What if someone came here while we were waiting for Klondike and substituted Colonel Hogan-?"
"I'm Hogan, Carter. The real one... I mean, the only one." Hogan straightened up as someone came to his mind. "What did you say about Klondike? Is he here already?"
"Well, not he actually," LeBeau said.
"It's a he, LeBeau. Klondike is a male name," Carter shrugged.
Hogan stared at Carter and LeBeau. Kinch didn't say anything but his eyes were smiling. "You know what happened?" Hogan asked his second-in-command.
"LeBeau?" Kinch turned to the Frenchman.
"Guys, focus, please. This has been a crazy day. I need at least one answer for one of my questions. Where is Klondike?"
"I'm afraid he flew away, sir." LeBeau sighed and took a sip of his coffee.
"Just like that? Didn't he take any messages with him? Did you take him to the airstrip? Why didn't you tell him to wait?"
"No, Louie is saying that Klondike got scared with all the confusion." Carter shrugged. "LeBeau squeezed him when Newkirk pushed him toward me."
"Oh, are you going to blame that one on me too?" LeBeau stood up. "The cage was an accident. It was dark, I wasn't expecting a cage and-"
"LeBeau broke the cage when he stepped on it. It was just good luck that he didn't step on Klondike too-"
Hogan clenched his jaw and mentally counted to ten. "Gentlemen, where is Klondike? And what in the world does he have to do with a broken cage?"
"Sir," Kinch finally decided to put the colonel out of his misery. "Klondike came in a cage that was broken when they threw him from the airplane. See? Klondike is a courier pigeon."
"Oh," Hogan said, nodding absently. "Then, at least he won't tell London about our present crisis..." Suddenly, it hit him. He leaned forward. "A pigeon... and he's gone. Did he have a message for us?"
"No," LeBeau shrugged. "Well, I don't know. Carter?"
"Actually," Carter smiled shyly. "I didn't check for any."
Hogan rubbed his face with both hands. He began to pace as if the movement would help him to put his ideas in order. After a few minutes of walking around the table, he stopped. "You closed the emergency exit when you entered... It's closed at all times..." He turned to face his men at the table. "Gentlemen, that bird is still in the tunnels. I want you to get it as soon as you finish your dinner. Check everywhere, and leave no stone unturned. Pass the word, no one sleeps tonight until that bird appears, got it?"
There were no complaints or sighs. Carter and LeBeau ran to get reinforcements. Kinch would do the same, but first he had to have a conversation with Hogan. "What are you going to do with Newkirk? It's obvious that something happened tonight to trigger that odd behavior."
"You just said the key word: trigger." Hogan's frown wrinkled with deep thought. "He met with someone tonight... in a meeting that was prepared by the Underground."
"They wouldn't set a trap for us, would they?"
"Not they... but someone in there maybe..." Hogan looked at Kinch. "Go to the radio, find out who asked for a meeting. Ask who knew about our whereabouts tonight. I strongly suspect that whoever set the meeting knew that Newkirk would be the only one available to attend, and that the rest of us would have been busy somewhere else..."
"Everybody in the Stalag knows that you play chess with Kommandant Klink once a week" Kinch shrugged.
"But Carter and LeBeau? We don't let many people know about our work." Hogan thought harder. "Only this time, we've been coordinating Klondike's arrival with the Underground to collect the secret information we need to send to London. Find out who's been working with us, how much they know about Klondike and who knew that Carter and LeBeau would go to get him tonight."
"That will narrow down our possibilities. I'll find the traitor in no time, sir." Kinch smiled and went to the radio.
HHH
Over in the cooler and unable to calm down, Newkirk began to pace around his cell. He was too agitated to put his thoughts into a straight, rational line. Hogan was not Hogan... or he was, but was a traitor... Traitor? Who was the traitor? They knew all they needed to know about him, about the Stalag... about their operations. Who were they anyway? Was Hogan working for the enemy? Had he switched sides while he was laid up in the hospital? Newkirk rubbed his temples. The headache had returned with a vengeance. He could not stop from shaking... It was cold... or was it just him?
"You blew it. All our work has gone to ashes and all because of you."
Newkirk turned to face the voice. "Colonel Hogan," he said. "Why do you keep saying that? You're the one who killed me father!"
"Where is your head, corporal? How long has it been since you saw your father for the last time?"
Newkirk clenched his jaw. "I saw 'im the day he went away for... for..." He frowned. Then, he groaned. "Bloody 'ell! Are you trying to confuse me? Me father was a patriot, 'e fought against... against... 'E... did..."
"You can't tell because it's not true! You want to believe that lie to change the fact that you're the only traitor here. You opened your mouth and now hundreds of innocents will die!"
"No!" Newkirk threw himself against Hogan but he found only the wall. "No, damn it, no!"
Schultz heard him yell and scream. This was odd in the Stalag. The cooler was a solitary place, but it wasn't so terrible as to make the prisoners scream, especially Newkirk. He was usually the calmer one; sometimes, he even sang old British pub songs in the cooler to pass the time. All of a sudden, the Englander had gone crackers.
[1] This is a quote from Oscar Wilde. It means that your true friends don't deceive you. They're honest and will put you right when you're wrong.