Chapter Twelve: Down, but Not Out
Hogan woke up, completely startled. It was still dark but he could have sworn that he had heard someone calling his name. After several seconds of silence, he had managed to convince himself that it had been a dream. He had just gone back to sleep when the voice came back along with a tap at the window shutter.
"Colonel Hogan."
This time, there was no doubt. It was Schultz, using his whispering voice. Hogan opened his window and yawned. "Did your wife kick you out again, Schultz?"
"Please, I am not in the mood for jokes. It's really late." He turned to make sure that no one was nearby. "I'm guarding Newkirk, remember?"
"I remember. Anything wrong?" Hogan changed his casual expression to one of greater concern. "Besides the expected, I mean."
"I don't know. He's a little noisy tonight. He's been talking to himself for hours." Schultz came closer and lowered his voice even more. "I thought that he had... you know... visitors. Er... Carter or LeBeau, sometimes they... you know what I'm talking about. Are they...?"
"They're here, Schultz. No one is anyplace where they're not supposed to be. If you know what I mean," he grinned at Schultz's discomfort. "Newkirk is probably having nightmares or something. He's been out of sorts lately."
"I know, but, well, I thought you would like to know that if you, by any chance would like to take a walk and... b-by any chance, you get to the cooler and... by any chance, you want to see him... I'd probably look the other way and see nothing." He smiled.
Hogan smiled back. This gentle giant was the best ally they could have asked for. "Thank you, Schultz, I'd be glad to take a walk to the cooler, by any chance." He winked and closed the window. He put on his uniform and went down to the tunnels. The bunks looked occupied, if nobody performed a thorough look, that is. Everybody was walking throughout the tunnels, carefully searching for their missing courier pigeon. Hogan could not complain about his men's commitment to the job. He met Kinch at the radio. "Get Wilson and tell him to meet me at entrance twelve. He's doing a house call tonight."
HHH
"So, I understand that Klondike is a code name for a secret agent and seven was the hour that he was expected." The imaginary Hogan paced around. It was supposed to be dark, but Newkirk had realized that when it came to his dreams and hallucinations, light was completely optional. "What I don't get is the number... forty-seven sixty-two? What's that?"
"It could be a three," Newkirk shrugged. He was calmer now. The world was still upside down, but for the time being, he managed to put himself together for the ride. After approximately ten minutes of trying to attack the Hogan that was present in his cell, Newkirk found that this action was completely pointless. I'll get the ruddy bastard later he thought to himself. There's no point in tiring myself out. So, if the Colonel wants to talk, I suppose we can talk. "I was drugged and sleepy. I wasn't paying much attention to ruddy numbers."
"But you're so clever. You caught those numbers in the air. What do they mean?"
Newkirk chuckled. He lied down on his cot, staring at the ceiling. By now, he had memorized every spot, every crack on the ceiling so that he knew he could see it even in his dreams. Still, it was better than having to put up with Hogan at the moment. "If you're part of me bleeding imagination, you've got to know that I'm not answering questions for the moment." He rubbed his temples to appease a headache that was beginning to form.
"It wouldn't hurt that much if you answered some questions once in a while."
"That's what that ruddy doctor said. What's 'is name? Oh, yes. Doctor Frakes." Newkirk stared at his imaginary representation of Hogan and shook his head. "Didn't work for 'im, won't work for you."
"Why are you so suspicious all of a sudden? I'm part of your own conscience."
"Walls 'ave ears," Newkirk shrugged. "Besides, I don't trust meself anymore. This looks like the cooler, but I could be back in that lab for all I know. Those blokes are very clever; I've got to work faster than them." I've got to think faster than them. He stretched his legs and yawned.
"Does that include keeping yourself awake all night?"
Newkirk snorted. "Why, imaginary Gov'nor, you're starting to sound like the real Gov'nor." He turned to him. Someone else was standing next to Hogan. "And now you got yourself a friend?"
"Newkirk? It's me, Hogan," he threw a light on the cot. "Are you all right?"
Before Newkirk could think about what to do, let alone sitting up, Wilson was already on the edge of his bed, checking his pulse. "What the-?"
"Lie still, Corporal. We're just making sure that everything is okay." Wilson lit Newkirk's pupils.
"Watch it?" Newkirk blinked and pushed the flashlight away. He turned to Hogan. "Some hallucination you are. What's the idea?"
"Newkirk, it's been a very intense week," Hogan said. "We want to help you. Wilson?"
"His pupils are a little dilated but responsive." He turned to Newkirk. "I bet you have a monster headache. Lack of sleep and-"
"Did I ask for a ruddy statement of the obvious? I think not." Newkirk sat up. "Listen you two. I'm all right. Nothing's 'appening with me. You can go back to your cozy beds and leave me alone." Before I change me bloody mind and try to kill both of you.
"As I was saying," Wilson grinned. "Lack of sleep is making him cranky."
Oh, you don't know the 'alf of it Newkirk thought to himself.
"Can you do something for him?" Hogan asked, genuine concern visible in both his voice and his face.
"'E is all right. 'E is going to sleep. Go away!" Newkirk pulled the blanket up to his head and lied down again.
Hogan took Wilson's place on the cot. "Newkirk, this is serious-"
"Do you 'ear me laughing?" Newkirk spoke, slightly muffled from under the blanket.
"We need to know what happened to you. Your behavior has been too peculiar and-"
"Peculiar?" He uncovered his face for a moment. "With all due respect, Gov'nor, if you 'ad been through all I've been through, you'd wouldn't use that word, I'd say."
"But tell me, what have you been through? We can't begin to help you unless we know what they did to you."
However, an abrupt giggle made Newkirk and Hogan turn to face Wilson. "I'm sorry," the medic smiled. "All those through makes it sound like a tongue twister."
Hogan rolled his eyes. "Wilson, please." He turned to Newkirk. "We're suspecting a double agent may have infiltrated our lines. Kinch is investigating."
Newkirk smirked in disbelief. "That's the barmiest story I've ever 'eard." He paused before going on. "Well, at least it fits perfectly with others I've been told lately."
"Like Colonel Hogan's killing your father?" Wilson asked.
Newkirk frowned. "The colonel killing me who?" Suddenly, he noticed that his headache was growing in intensity, though the last thing he wanted was for either Hogan or Wilson to notice. Blimey! I remember being angry at the Colonel, but now I can't even remember why. Am I losing me memory as well?
Hogan and Wilson exchanged worried stares. Wilson shrugged. "Another piece of the puzzle."
"I'd wish all the pieces would belong to the same puzzle." Hogan sighed. "Newkirk, I know you're confused. We all are. I don't want to add any more to it but things are going crazy around here, so to speak. I have all the team members in the tunnels looking for a bird. Even Olsen and Baker are helping. Hopefully, they will find it soon and I'm going to need your abilities with the locks of the Stalag warehouse."
"Carter ran out of supplies, didn't 'e?" Newkirk smiled. "And when you say a bird, you're not talking about a lady, are you?"
"I wish," Hogan chuckled. "Klondike turned out to be a pigeon, a courier pigeon. It got scared with our little situation in the tunnels."
Newkirk stared at him and Wilson and shrugged. "I take that this 'little situation' 'ad to do with me ending up in the cooler."
"Selective amnesia," Wilson said. "Sometimes, when the mind has been put through too much stress, it will put up barriers to block out unpleasant, traumatic memories. I should start writing down the symptoms. Whatever drug they used on you must be kind of new."
"You should talk to your twin brother. 'E's a surgeon, you know?"
Hogan stared at Newkirk with concern. The corporal looked fine but most of what he said didn't make any sense. "Maybe you should go back to sleep. Forget about the warehouse. We'll find another way." He smiled, almost condescendingly. "I'll come back tomorrow." He signaled for Wilson to follow him back to the door trap. "Provided he remembers I didn't kill anyone of his family," he whispered.
Newkirk saw them disappearing through the wall and shook his head.
"Now, he doesn't trust you either."
"Can't you tell me something I don't know?" Newkirk sighed. "Of course you can't. You're just stuck in me 'ead along with everything else." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "There must be a way I can take me life back." Where's the Stalag? Where's the Colonel and me mates? Blimey, down is up and near is far….But I can't allow those bloody bastards to see even one moment of weakness in me. If I show that, then they win. If only—
"How would you do it sitting in this place?" the imaginary Hogan asked, cutting Newkirk off from his thoughts.
"Imaginary Gov'nor, you've got to start 'aving faith in me." Newkirk raised an eyebrow, while an idea began to form in his head. "Same goes for the real Gov'nor, I guess."
HHH
Hogan could read his men's faces so well. They were not happy, and he certainly couldn't blame them. Of course, he wasn't happy either. So many distractions were undermining their confidence. Worst than that, they had lost almost one entire day looking for a pigeon. Their latest mission threatened to be their last for good.
"Even if we found Klondike, we still don't have the information that London is asking for. And if we got the message, we can't protect Klondike's flight back home," Carter said. "This is going down the drain."
"We all should know how to break into the warehouse. We can't depend on Newkirk so much." LeBeau led the way into another branch of the tunnel. He threw a light around but there was nothing to see. "Maybe if we put out some food, Klondike will come out to eat."
"Yeah, he just came all that way from London and hasn't eaten anything. He must be starving."
"I'll look in our pantry and see if we have anything that's good for a pigeon." LeBeau turned to leave when they heard a noise. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?"
Carter frowned. "Sounded like flapping. Bats?"
"Maybe," LeBeau walked slowly toward the noise. "Or..." He jumped forward and wrestled a little in the corner. When he got up, he was cradling the pigeon in his arms. "Voici lui!" [1]
"Klondike, boy!" Carter stroked the bird, who responded with a soft cooing. "We were so worried about you. Oh, Colonel Hogan is going to be so happy!"
"At last, we're getting somewhere."
LeBeau and Carter headed back upstairs.
The team, minus Newkirk, met at Hogan's office. Kinch took the pigeon from Carter and removed a little capsule that was attached to one of its legs. Hogan read the message.
"London requires information about the development of a new drug used for interrogations. They want the exact location of the laboratory where it has been processed so they can destroy it immediately."
"But how are we going to do that?" Carter asked. "Do we have any hint on where it might be?"
"We make contact with the Underground, right?"
"Wrong, LeBeau. There may be a mole in the Underground, and at the moment, we can't afford to take any chances. They're still investigating," Kinch said.
"True, and while we're still responsible for this mission, the information must be checked two or three times." Hogan stared at the pigeon. "I think we'll have a guest for a while. Carter, I volunteer you to guard our friend, okay? No more hide and seek in the tunnels."
"I'll make him a nice cage. I've made one for Felix, so making one for Klondike should be a slice of cake." Carter was too busy smiling at the pigeon to notice that there was a distinctive British voice missing to correct his phrase mistake.
HHH
"I don't think there is much more that we're able to do here, Doctor Frakes. Corporal Newkirk is in the cooler and besides, he doesn't remember anything from the laboratory."
"Are you sure? We can't afford to take risks."
König took a deep breath. Even though he dreaded the answer to his next question, he knew that it had to be asked. "What do you suggest?"
"What do you think? the voice on the other side of the phone asked angrily. The experiment is over. We have to dispose of our subject." The temporary silence was not a good sign. Doctor Frakes could not accept any last minute hesitation. "Listen, König. You'll do as I say. Corporal Newkirk is a liability; we can't take risks! If you are not strong enough to carry out my orders, tell me and I'll find a way to dispose of you too!"
"There's no need, sir." König shook his head. "I'll do my best. You won't be disappointed."
I better not be, König—for your sake."
König hung up. He stepped out of the Kasserne [2] and looked around. He made sure that the other guards were not looking at him, since telephone calls were a privilege that they seldom had. Luckily, his frequent visits had passed unnoticed. If things went as planned, he would not have to worry about continuing to make phone calls from Stalag 13.
It was then that König intercepted Corporal Langenscheidt, who was carrying a tray with dinner for the staff and the prisoner in the cooler. "Just in time, I see," he said with a friendly smile.
"Yes. Sergeant Schultz doesn't forgive delays in his dinner." He smirked, knowing as well as anybody how much the sergeant enjoyed eating. "My round should've ended half an hour ago."
"I'll take it from here, all right?" König grabbed the tray. "I'm going that way, anyway."
Corporal Langenscheidt did not see anything suspicious about that. Instead, he was rather grateful to see himself freed from any responsibility. "Danke."
Schultz had his eyes on the tray the moment König entered the room. He took his plate and smelled deeply. "Wunderbar!"
"May I take this to the prisoner now?"
"Certainly," Schultz said without really looking at him.
König peeped through the window on the door. His heartbeat accelerated. Without hesitation, he quickly opened the door. He was speechless. "Damn!"
There was a lump on the cot, made up to simulate a sleeping person. While it might have fooled Schultz, König was able to see through it. He had been thinking that Newkirk might try to pull something like this. He removed the blanket to see the pillow and the cast of Newkirk's leg put together. "Clever," König sighed. He turned around.
The cell was empty.
HHH
Newkirk walked quietly through the tunnels. His broken heel was killing him but there was no time to waste. He hid in the shadows when he heard footsteps and voices. His present plans did not include meeting anybody, friend or foe. He just needed a uniform, a couple of minutes in the office and he would be off to work.
"I only need a couple more boards and the cage will be ready," said Carter, examining the debris piled up in a corner of the tunnel.
"When is the takeoff, then," Olsen asked him. "Do you have the stuff to sabotage the nest?"
"Nest? Oh, the antiaircraft post?" Carter chuckled. "With all that commotion about the pigeon, I get confused. No, I'm still short of wire and tape. If we can't open the Stalag warehouse, I suppose I'll have to make an extra trip downtown."
While they were conversing, Olsen had found another piece of nice board, and he handed it to Carter.
"Okay, I think it will work." Carter picked it up and both men went back to the barracks.
Newkirk made a mental note about the new point in his agenda. "All right, a little detour and I'll be on my way."
"The Underground informs that the leak has been located and neutralized. His name was Ritz. He had basic information about Klondike's ETA, our routines and whereabouts. He might have contacted Hochstetter." Kinch handed a piece of paper with the message on it to Hogan.
"Do you think the Gestapo knows about our operations now?" Carter interrupted his job with the cage to look at Hogan, a worried expression showing on his face.
"I don't think so. We're still here." He read the paper. "Although, they would have enough information to be able to pull Newkirk further into their scheme."
"I don't think he would betray us. Not even in his darkest hour!" LeBeau replied with steadfast resolution, all-the-while petting the pigeon while feeing it a handful of seeds.
"I don't doubt Newkirk's endurance. He wouldn't be on this team if he was easy to break," Hogan replied. For a brief moment, a smile lit his face. He remembered how he had decided to take the mischievous Englander under his wing and make him part of his team. It was exactly because of the reason that he had grown up on the mean streets of Stepney that Hogan knew his man had a tough exterior. "They hurt him real bad, though." Hogan continued while sighing, forcing his thoughts to return to the mission at hand. "But now, it's our turn to act. We need to get Klondike out of here as soon as possible. Carter-"
"I know, I know. I'm still working on it."
"Make a list of what you need. LeBeau or Olsen will go to town tomorrow."
"We still don't know much about the new drug or the laboratory coordinates. What information are we going to send them with the pigeon?"
"Kinch, you may stop asking those questions. They take my sleep away." Hogan stared at Klondike. "We'll send them our regards and best wishes, and whatever we have so far, okay? We can also tell them to standby for more information later on." He stretched. "Now, you may all go to bed. It's been a very long night, and I suspect that it'll be a long day tomorrow."
HHH
Newkirk went throughout the warehouse supplies. It would have been so easy to serve himself from everything they had. For a brief minute or two, he even thought about getting the necessary supplies to get back to England. But, he was pressed for time; there were other places to be and other things to do.
He took some wire and tape, new pliers and other small things that Carter was always using. That warehouse was paradise. They had everything they needed for any mission that they might come up against. They only had to make sure that the remaining items would cover up for the missing ones. Klink's accountant was too lazy to go deep into the exact quantities of each product. He would usually sign reports without verification that Helga would file without double checking. At the end of the year, they would allow poor Klink to go through a mountain of requisition forms to explain their expenses. If anyone had ever noticed any anomaly, they had probably shut their mouths to avoid endless bureaucratic procedures.
The next step involved getting to the office. There was only one guard outside who wouldn't bother questioning Newkirk about his coming in.
Once inside, Newkirk quickly headed to the phone. "Operator," Newkirk whispered. "I need the name of a local company around the Hammelburg area. The number is forty-seven sixty-two."
HHH
Once again, Hogan woke up startled. It was morning already, but still a bit too early for roll call. He heard a tapping at his window and he could almost guess who it was.
"Schultz, couldn't you wait till roll call? I need to sleep and you're making it very difficult lately."
"I'm sorry, Colonel." The sergeant shook his head. "I couldn't wait, really."
"All right, what's going on now?"
"It's Newkirk."
"Again?" He frowned. "What did he do?"
"He's gone."
"C'mon, Schultz, that's your big emergency?" Hogan snorted. He was about to turn back to his bed when the meaning of the words landed with full force. "He what?" Hogan exclaimed, though trying to keep the other men in the barracks from hearing him.
"It happened last night. It's all I know. I was there all the time. I don't know how he did it."
Hogan knew how; he needed to know why. "Go back to your post, Schultz. Klink won't miss him for roll call because he's still in the cooler."
"But he's not th-"
"Schultz, this is between you and me. For all we know, and most importantly for all Klink knows, Newkirk is still in the cooler, okay?"
Schultz heard the voice of command in Hogan and obeyed. Who cared? After all they had been through, another lie fit just perfectly into their landscape.
Hogan closed his window. Before calling his men to arms, he had to take a couple of deep breaths. He was mad. With so many forces conspiring against them by air and land, Newkirk had to choose that day out of all the others to pull one of his pranks.
[1] "Here he is!"
[2/AN] The Kasserne is the German soldiers' barracks in the Stalag. This would be the place where they would go when they're off duty. This would also be the place where they would be able to make phone calls.
