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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Hogan felt a special responsibility to the Schultzes, and personally made sure they were settled down in the tunnel for the evening. He took the time to check on blankets and light, and brought Alida a small bucket filled with fresh water, in case she and her husband wanted to freshen up after their trek through the woods. Normally, escaped prisoners were happy just to bunk in and wait, but these were civilians, and Hogan, still full of their hospitality and personal sacrifice, wanted to make the transition less painful in any way he could.

Though Ludwig expressed curiosity about the operation he was but seeing the fringes of, Hogan insisted that it would be better if he and Alida knew very little, and asked firmly that they stick to the section of the tunnel to which they had been brought. Ludwig agreed, and Alida's eyes quietly followed Hogan as he paced back and forth, explaining how they needed to behave while they were staying in the camp.

"Make yourself at home; our prison is your prison. I'll have the camp medic check you over tomorrow. Meanwhile, the best thing you can do is get some sleep," Hogan concluded, stifling a yawn. "I don't know how much you'll get on your journey out of here." He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "If you need anything, signal us up top like this—" Hogan tapped in an odd rhythm on a supporting beam—"and someone will come running. Whatever you do, don't just try and appear—you'll throw Kinch right off his bunk, and you could walk into a room full of Nazis. I'll be back to check on you in the morning."

"Colonel Hogan," started Alida, as Hogan turned to head back upstairs.

Hogan paused and turned toward her. "Yes?"

"I know that a lot of people took many risks to help us," she began. Hogan watched thoughtfully as she spoke, so quiet and gentle after the roar of the evening. "You have all been very kind. Ludwig and I wish to thank you, but I am afraid words seem so inadequate."

"You don't have to thank us; this is what we do," Hogan replied gently. Then, grinning boyishly he added, "You wouldn't have a spare pair of nylon stockings, would you? I owe someone a big favor." He winked and said good night, leaving them with their private thoughts and memories.

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"So what brings you back this time, Colonel?" Hogan asked Feldkamp, as the American stood, straight-backed and arms crossed in Klink's office the next morning.

Klink was standing behind his desk, looking uncomfortably from one Colonel to the other. For some reason, even though Hogan was an enemy and Feldkamp purportedly an ally, there was no doubt in Klink's mind who was the better man. Certainly Hogan could rub people the wrong way—those cold mornings when Klink wanted nothing more than to dispense with the business of the camp roll call and get back inside, but Hogan insisted on getting him all flustered, were tops on Klink's list of irritating moments—but there was still a mischievous—but not malicious—charm about Hogan that was appealing. Somehow, Klink suspected, if there were not a war on, Hogan would be a man to get to know better. On the other hand, he could do without seeing Feldkamp again, any time. "The Colonel is here to set up a command post in connection with a certain act of sabotage that took place last night, Colonel Hogan," he said now.

"Sabotage?" Hogan repeated innocently. "Oh, you mean that big boom we heard last night, and all the smoke in the air?"

"That's right, Hogan," Feldkamp said, moving in close to the American. "We lost an important munitions plant last night. Someone tried to make it look like an electrical fire, but we are certain there was more to it. The plant was very close to this camp. As usual."

Hogan raised an eyebrow. "That's a shame," he said with mock sincerity. "Work is so hard to come by these days."

Feldkamp slapped the glove he was holding across his other palm. "There is something fishy going on around here, Hogan…and I cannot help but feel that you are involved."

"Me?" Hogan said testily. "Come on, Kommandant, not again."

"No, no, Hogan… not again," Feldkamp said. "I am merely here to observe. If you have nothing to hide, you will not have any problems with me."

"That's what I had hoped the last time," Hogan replied evenly.

Feldkamp smiled. "This time you have my word."

Klink laughed nervously. "There you have it, Hogan, Colonel Feldkamp has given you his word—you can't ask for better than that!"

"Yes I can, but I doubt I'm going to get it." Hogan looked at Feldkamp, not bothering to mask his repulsion. "How long are you going to be hanging around?"

"What's the rush to get me out of here, Hogan?" Feldkamp asked smoothly. "No rush, other than the fact that I rather like the back of your head better than the front." Hogan kept his demeanor completely calm as he let the insult sink in and watched Feldkamp turn a deep scarlet.

Klink watched the exchange with a mixture of apprehension and admiration. Feldkamp had never been one of his favorite people, either, but it would never have occurred to him to put his distaste into words. But Hogan had nothing to lose by expressing his feelings—well, not in the same way, Klink thought. He could certainly put you through Hell again, Hogan…haven't you taken enough punishment? But this was the only way Hogan could fight back; as a Prisoner of War he had no real recourse if he was treated unjustly, as Feldkamp had done in the past; that had to be humiliating as a man. Taking a chance on future abuse might seem reckless to some, Klink thought, but in reality it might be Hogan's only way of maintaining his sanity in an insane time.

"What did you want to see me for, Kommandant?" Hogan asked, his voice only slightly giving away the anger that was bubbling under the surface.

"Hogan, while Colonel Feldkamp is here, you and your men are confined to barracks so he can carry out his investigation unhindered." Klink was getting tired of confining the prisoners; it felt like that was all he had done with them lately. But he had to admit that it was easier to look after the camp when the men were not scattered all over the place. And maybe it would mean that Feldkamp could finish his investigation and get out of Stalag 13 that much quicker.

"Sir, the men are entitled to exercise periods and recreation. Confinement to barracks is getting to be too regular."

"You will worry about what you are entitled to later, Hogan—Gestapo business takes priority over the comfort of the prisoners," Feldkamp countered.

"Only if you're not a prisoner," Hogan said. "Hogan…" Klink said warningly.

"All right, all right," Hogan said, putting his hands up in surrender. "I can take a hint." He turned to leave. "But when the men are finally let out, sir, I can tell you right now they're going to be raring for some action. We'll have to plan a volleyball game—maybe football." Hogan turned back, warming up. "Or if you'd be involved, sir, perhaps we could have a ping-pong tournament. I know how good you are with the paddle, sir." Klink started to smile; he always was good at table tennis, although he did prefer chess. "We could set something up for Saturday night—"

"Enough!" Feldkamp burst. Hogan stopped and put on a slightly hurt look. "Hogan, you just watch your step, or you'll have a lot more to worry about soon than your ping-pong tournament," he spat out. Then, looking closely at the American, he observed, "Your eyes are very red today, Hogan. What do you think is the cause of that?"

Hogan didn't miss a beat. "Eye strain. Stayed up late reading. You know, once you pick up that Mein Kampf you just can't put it down." He let out a chuckle. "You might get put in front of a firing squad if you dared admit the thing was a piece of boring propaganda!" Hogan aimed a quick salute at Klink and made a hasty exit as Feldkamp was about to explode.

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"So Feldkamp is going to stay around for awhile," Hogan said to the Schultzes. "And that means I'm afraid you're going to have to be our guests for a little bit longer." He sighed and offered a humorless smile. "It was always a possibility, considering the timing. But I'm afraid if we try to get you out of here now, we'll all be caught, and I don't look good riddled with bullet holes."

Ludwig nodded curtly. Alida stayed stock-still. Poor thing's scared to death, Hogan realized. Can't say I blame her. Hogan turned to Le Beau, who, with Carter, and Newkirk, was huddled in the tunnel, as Kinch manned the radio nearby. "Louis, think you can cook for two more for a couple of nights?"

"Oh, oui, Colonel. Ma mère always taught me that if you add a few more pommes des terres you can feed an army with one bowl of broth, eh?" He smiled encouragingly at Alida, who wanly smiled back.

"Ah, the secrets of the great chefs," Hogan quipped, trying to make things light, but recognizing that in their situation, there was little that could alleviate the tension the Schultzes were feeling. Still, he tried again. "Okay, the good news is that in all the time we've been doing this, we haven't had anyone discover our tunnel or stop us from getting people moved. The bad news is you'll have to put up with us traipsing through your bedroom for a couple of days while we sort things out."

Ludwig smiled. "Hans traipses through our house at all hours of the day and night as well, Colonel. It is nothing we cannot get used to."

Hogan nodded as Kinch got up from the desk. "Good; then you'll fit right in," he replied. He turned to Kinch. "What's the word?"

"London's thrilled with the results of the last sabotage mission, Colonel. They said to say congratulations, and may this be the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

"Great. Sounds like they'll be keeping us busy from now on."

"They want to know when to have the plane standing by, sir," Kinch said.

"A plane?" Alida repeated. "You are getting a plane?"

"Only the best for our first class passengers. Kinch, tell them we'll need them to be on standby; we have to wait for the goons to clear out first. We'll let them know when we're ready."

"Yes, sir."

"There, all set," Hogan said, turning back to their guests. "I know it's a little unorthodox, but…"

Alida smiled. "Everything about you seems to be… unorthodox… Colonel," she said softly.

"We tell 'im that all the time," Newkirk piped up.

"Newkirk…"

"Just showing the lady that she's not alone in her observations, gov'nor. You wouldn't want our guests feeling out of sorts, now, would you?"

Hogan shook his head, good-naturedly. "Carter here will be your personal valet, while Newkirk has given himself the role of personal psychologist." Ludwig and Alida couldn't help but laugh, and Hogan got the slightest feeling that things might turn out okay.

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Wilson turned to Hogan and said, "All clear, Colonel." He snapped shut his bag and smiled at Alida and Ludwig. "They're both fine to travel. A bit worse for wear, perhaps, but that's to be expected. They shouldn't have any trouble."

"Thanks, Joe," Hogan said.

"And you, look after your eyes; they look miserable. Cool, wet compresses till the irritation clears."

Hogan nodded and said nothing, knowing he'd be chastised severely if he didn't follow orders. Wilson bade them good night and worked his way back down the tunnel towards Barracks Five. Ludwig said, kindly, "A medical check up was not necessary, Colonel. Your consideration is appreciated, but really, we are fine."

"All part of the service," Hogan said lightly. "Feldkamp seems to be losing heart, but until he leaves, we'd better lie low. You never know if there's a radio detection truck around." Ludwig nodded. "I'll leave Newkirk to make sure you've got what you need, and I'll see you in the morning."

He headed up the ladder. Newkirk put the blankets he was carrying down on the nearest bunk. "The Colonel thought it might have been a bit too cold down 'ere last night. The weather's getting to be a bit fierce out there, and we 'aven't got any heaters for the tunnel… yet."

"Your Colonel Hogan is a very interesting man," Alida said thoughtfully.

"That 'e is, ma'am," Newkirk agreed. "Man has a mind the likes of which I've never seen. Nearly as cunning and clever as meself."

"He believes in his work here," Ludwig noted.

"Oh, blimey, yes, sir, gov'nor. He should have been gone from here a long time ago." Newkirk paused, remembering Hogan's first real escape, his desperation to get away from the Gestapo, and his unexpected return. "But he didn't want to leave us all behind." He shook his head. "You can never know what drives a man like that," he said.

Alida nodded. "You are right. You cannot know; you must simply be grateful to have crossed his path." Then she frowned, thinking. "What did Colonel Hogan mean last night when he said he owes someone a big favor?"

Newkirk smiled. "Oh, that'd be the Kommandant's secretary, Helga. She let the gov'nor see a few things that helped us last night. You know, by accident," he added with a wink.

"The secretary to the Kommandant of the camp?" Ludwig asked, astonished. "She is an Underground agent?"

"I don't think so," Newkirk said. "I think she just fancies the Colonel." He grinned. "And I think the feeling's mutual."

"A pretty girl," Ludwig guessed.

Alida nodded knowingly. "Mmm, and from the sound of it, a smart one."

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"Colonel Hogan, my brother is gone."

Schultz had pulled Hogan aside after roll call the next morning, looking worried and like he had not slept a wink. Hogan frowned as he listened to Schultz's tale. "What happened, Schultz?"

"I stopped in at Ludwig's house, the same way I usually do when I am on my way home from town. But this time when I got there, there was no one home."

"Couldn't they have gone out, Schultz? No one is home all the time." Hogan was beating himself up inside. So much of him wanted to ease Schultz's obvious suffering, but if he did the operation would be compromised—or worse. So he kept up the banter, trying to remember that it was a greater cause he was serving, and that, after all, Schultz was the enemy… somehow. "If he wasn't expecting you, he wouldn't necessarily be waiting."

"But this was different," Schultz insisted. "The house was locked up. I looked through the windows; it was all too tidy, like no one lived there. And when I went in the barn, the horse was gone. Ludwig never takes her away, even if he travels; always there is someone to look after her." Schultz's innocent eyes reflected worry, and fear. "Colonel Hogan, I am worried that something has happened to him and to Alida. They would not leave without telling me."

Hogan was finding this conversation difficult to continue. He didn't like having to deceive anyone about a member of their family, especially when the fear would be so easy to assuage with a few simple words. "Happened to him?" he asked simply.

"My brother, Colonel Hogan, he is like me. He does not like to make waves." If you only knew… Hogan thought. "But I think, in this war, he has been angry. Very angry. And he misses his kinder, and he is upset because Alida gets scared and cries at night. I worry that he may have done something foolish, Colonel Hogan. Tried to go to England to see the leibchen, perhaps, or just run away from the war. The Gestapo does not like it when people run away from the war."

Hogan's mind drifted to the couple in the tunnel. Such a close family, he thought. He closed his eyes briefly to steel himself against the emotions battering him. This is what you have to do, he reminded himself. "I'm sure he's fine, Schultz," Hogan said softly. "If the Gestapo had come for them, they probably wouldn't have been so neat about it all." Schultz seemed to consider this, and for a moment the deep concern left his eyes. "Keep me posted."

Hogan swallowed hard, blamed the burning in the back of his eyes on the smoke from the other night, and went back to the barracks.