Chapter 36

(Shortly Afterward):

Everyone froze at the sound of the gunshot as it reverberated throughout the cell location. In addition, nobody grasped what took place as it happened so quickly and without warning.

Carter's eyes widened with horror as both he and the injured man glanced at the blood on the man's chest. Even von Eisenburg whose gun fired the shot, froze and stared with the sudden turn of events. Carter watched the wounded man's knees buckle as blood continued to spurt from the hole in the center of the man's chest. The man fell slowly in what seemed like slow motion to his knees before he landed sideways onto the floor blood started pooling around his body.

Carter swallowed the growing lump in his throat as the shock of what happened began to fade. He refused to accept what had just happened.

"No!" he shouted. "Colonel!"

Inside the cell, Newkirk and LeBeau stared at each other with eyes widened in horror and fear at the echoing sound of the gunshot. For despite being in a cell with a locked iron door, the voices outside were audible as was the gunshot.

The voices told them the guys had come to rescue them. But then the gunshot caused them to panic as it made them realize something had gone terribly wrong. Problem was they refused to consider what had happened or who had been shot. But when they heard Carter scream, they freaked.

"Mon Dieu!" LeBeau gasped staring at the Englander. "You don't suppose…"

"Your guess is as good as mine, mate," Newkirk replied nervously interrupting him to keep him from disclosing something important as he studied the iron door. Despite fearing what might have happened, he didn't forget the cell was bugged, and neither did LeBeau forget either. "Right now I don't even want to imagine something goin' wrong."

But despite what he had told the Frenchman, Newkirk understood he didn't have any choice but to let the matter weigh on him. Carter sounded terrified. And for his best friend to sound terrified only mean one thing; that something gone wrong.

"Please don't let the Gov'nor die!" Newkirk told himself. "I can't handle goin' on after this if the Gov'nor died!"

LeBeau looked up at the ceiling and repeatedly blinked his eyes hoping to keep his tears at bay. He felt if something terrible had happened, he'd have time later to cry. But all he could do for now was try and remain strong.

Both men glanced at the sleeping Hotchner and with an exchange of looks, and found themselves glad the unconscious man had no idea what had taken place within earshot.

Hotch closed the journal and got to his feet. He needed a break from reading for the moment, and figured he would look through the documents Garcia had found for him. As he started upstairs, he heard his cell phone ringing. He hurried up the stairs, and into his bedroom where he had left his cell on its charger. Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, he grabbed the cell despite it being plugged into the charger and glanced at the name on the Caller ID. He rolled his eyes before he put the cell to his ear.

"Hotchner."

"What took you so long? Did I interrupt something I hope?" the cocky voice said.

Hotch sighed. Even though he couldn't see him in person, he could picture the man's smug expression.

"Dave, if you were in front of me right now, I'd smack that smug grin off your face."

Rossi chuckled. "Then I'm glad I'm not in front of you right now."

"Also, get your mind out of the gutter. I was in the living room, and my cell is in my bedroom upstairs."

"If you say so, but that's not why I called."

"So why did you call?"

"Penelope paid me a visit a few minutes ago. She had something to show me that might be of interest to you."

Hotch crossed his long legs. Maybe he wouldn't have to call the tech analyst after all.

"What did she find?"

"First, and don't get your boxers in a twist. She did this before working hours."

"She did what before working hours?"

"She decided on her own to try and see if she could find anything on Fuchs' or Lilly's families."

"Did she?"

"Not even a marriage license. Or as Kitten says 'Nada,' 'Zip,' 'Zero.'"

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"Sounds like you didn't expect she would."

"To be honest, I would have been stunned if she had…" Hotch let out a breath and scratched his head.

"So what d'ya want to do now?" Hotch took so long to answer that Rossi thought the call had been disconnected. "Aaron, you still there?"

"Sorry, I was thinking and zoned out for a couple of seconds. What was it you said?"

"I asked what you wanted to do now."

"I want you to have Garcia do something for me so I don't have to contact her."

"What is it you need, my friend?"

"I need Garcia do a special search for me. Have her first check for all Germans who assisted the Allies during the war, and then left Germany to relocate to another country when the war ended."

"What are you hoping she'll find?" Rossi was puzzled.

"I'm not really sure. She might not find anything. But something occurred to me as I was reading the journal and feel it might be worth looking into."

"And what was that?"

"Well, we know what Hogan was capable of during the war. So…what if he was able to fake the deaths of Fuchs and his family and get them out of Germany."

Now it was Rossi's turn to remain silent for a few seconds.

"Dave?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Are you hoping Kitten can find out if Fuchs and his family were relocated to another country by Hogan?"

"That's exactly what I'm hoping if I'm right in my assumption. But I realize even if she can, it still might not be of any help. It's possible if what I suspect is true, his name might have been changed as well which will make it harder to find him. But I need to have her try anyhow. We might be lucky."

"True," Rossi admitted. "Besides, you know that old saying…it's better to have tried and failed then never to have tried at all."

Hotch chuckled. "You've been hanging around Reid too much. You're starting to get philosophical on me."

"And you're developing a sense of humor, I think. I've have Garcia call you after she's done her search."

"Thanks."

"And speaking of the journal, read anything good of late?"

"Matter of fact I did."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"Not right now. But all I can tell you is Hogan is carrying out his plan to rescue my grandfather and the others with Fuchs' help."

"Sounds exciting. How'd it turn out?"

"I don't know yet. But I promise we'll talk tomorrow when I come back to work and I'll let you know."

"You'd better or I'll track you down like an UnSub." Rossi imagined Hotch grinning on the other end and he himself smiled. "But seriously, I just wanted to make sure you're okay or see if you needed anything."

"I'm fine. I promise. Just have Garcia run that search I asked for and call me once she's done. But remind her to do it on her own time and not company time."

"I'll stand over her and give her one of your stares to make sure. Call me if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks. Bye, Dave." Aaron disconnected the call and returned the cell to his night stand so it could continue charging. Then, he got to his feet and approached his dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, he moved a couple of intimate items aside until he found the 8.5" manila envelope and removed it. He sat back down on the bed, and when he opened the envelope, removed copies of the research Garcia and the team had managed to find for him. It was time to take a close look again at what had been found. Also, time to see if there was anything that might aid him in his quest to find out more about the Fuchs family.

Garcia stared at her computer screen right after she hung up her phone from Rossi's call. Her fingers paused over the keyboard wondering exactly how she was going to find what Rossi said Hotch wanted. She wouldn't even know where much less how to begin her search. She chewed her thumbnail with elbows resting on the desk in front of the keyboard. She didn't want to ever disappoint Hotch under any circumstances. But all she had found earlier were death certificates for the entire Fuchs family. But her Bossman was counting on her to work her magic and give him something useful.

"Maybe I should get Boy Genius in here to help," she muttered partially to herself.

As if the answer to an unspoken prayer, the door to her office opened, and in walked Doctor Spencer Reid. Her lower jaw fell open and her eyes widened behind her glasses as she turned her chair round to face him.

"I don't believe it," she said staring at him.

Reid looked at her confused. "Don't believe what?"

"I wanted you to come here, and here you are in response to my wish. I guess my Genie must have been listening to me even without me rubbing a magic lamp."

Reid's eyes widened. He looked totally confused. "I don't understand."

"You don't need to understand, my junior G-man. And before you ask anymore dumb questions, I need that big ole brain of yours like pronto."

"For what?"

"Hotch has a request, and I have no idea how to even begin."

'What does he want?"

Garcia repeated the request Rossi had passed on to her from Hotch, and sat waiting for Reid's response. She didn't have long to wait. The young genius gripped the back of her chair, and spun it around so she now faced her computer screen, and stood behind her. He looked over her shoulder.

"I believe I can do that."

"I knew it," Garcia was excited as she again poised her finger over her keyboard. "Where do I need to look first?"

"Okay. Look for all Germans who left Germany after the war no matter what the reason."

"All-righty…" She typed and mumbled something under her breath unheard by Reid. A few seconds later she sighed. "Oh, this isn't good." Shown on the screen between 1944 and 1948 about 31 million Germans were temporarily or permanently moved.

"No it's not," Reid replied studying the screen.

"Is there any way to reduce it?"

"Not that I know of, Garcia. But let's try this angle. Go back and check how many of those Germans who left Germany did so to avoid arrest."

The tech analyst glanced over her shoulder into Reid's face. "But Fuchs wouldn't have been arrested. He was a good guy and helping the good guys."

Reid looked into her eyes. "When I say arrested, I meant arrested by the Germans. To them he was helping the enemy. And as far as they were concerned, that made him a traitor."

"Oh…right…" she quipped as she began typing. A few seconds later she shook her head. "Oh boy…I found an astronomical mass of humanity. I never realized how many Germans fled Germany after the war." Glancing over her shoulder again at Reid, she saw his eyes narrow as he bit his lower lip. What now?" she asked.

Reid let out a deep breath. For the first time in his young life, he was completely at a loss.

"C'mon, junior G-man, my break is nearly over."

"I hate to admit this, but for once I am completely at a loss as to where else to look," he explained.

In frustration, Hotch slammed down the papers he was holding on his bed.

Nothing he read had given him any clues about Fuchs or his wife's family.

Disappointed but not discouraged, he put the papers back in the envelope, and put the envelope back in the still open dresser drawer. Then he headed back downstairs where he had left the journal. Grabbing it, he settled his body back in his recliner, and elevated the foot rest. Then he opened the journal.

(Few Minutes Later):

"Colonel!"

Carter was unable to move as he stared at the body before him. The blood pool had become larger even as the blood flow itself began to slow and it was obvious the man was dead.

"Are you all right?" Hogan asked glancing at his teammate with worry. After the shooting, he had snatched the weapon out of von Eisenburg's hand, and tucked it into his own belt. The American officer then roughly seized the German sergeant and shoved him toward Fuchs who himself shoved the man against the wall beside Vogel. The German officer figured he and Olsen could watch the two men together leaving Hogan to deal with his own man.

Hogan rested a hand on Carter's shoulder. When he got no reaction, he gripped Carter's shoulder tighter.

"Look at me."

Carter slowly raised his head and looked into Hogan's eyes. The officer saw the grief in his eyes and understood Carter was punishing himself over the death.

"This is not your fault. Von Eisenburg gave you no choice. If you hadn't intervened, he might have killed me or one of the others. You saved the lives of everyone here. You did what had to be done."

Carter nodded slowly, avoiding looking at his commanding officer. He understood what Hogan was doing and appreciated it. It was just right now he didn't feel like a hero.

"I…I couldn't let him kill you, sir…" Carter said shakily. "And he would have killed you. I…I couldn't let him do that. I just couldn't. But that doesn't mean I wanted…"

Hogan nodded he understood. "I know you didn't. But this is war. Things happened over which we often have no control. Sometimes there's collateral damage and this is one of those times."

The corners of Carter's mouth slightly curled upward causing Hogan to smile.

"I guess so, Colonel."

"We can talk more about it later if you want. Right now, we need to get the guys and get out of here. We're already cutting things too close."

"Yes, sir. I'll be okay."

"Good man," said Hogan. He glanced at Olsen. "Get the keys to the cell and let's get the guys. I noticed them on the belt of the corporal."

Olsen knelt down and snatched the keys off the dead man's belt, quickly unlocked the iron door, and swung it open. He smiled widely when Newkirk and LeBeau smiled up at him.

"You guys all right?" he asked.

"Boy are we glad to see you guys," Newkirk said stiffly getting to his feet as did LeBeau. But despite the stiffness and bruises, both men were able to function. LeBeau stepped outside the cell then his eyes fell on Hogan. Newkirk knelt in front of Hotchner.

"Mon Colonel, we heard the gunshot and feared the worst," he said. "We are glad to see you still alive."

Hogan chuckled. "As they say, 'news of my death is greatly exaggerated." He handed LeBeau von Eisenburg's weapon. "Think you can handle this?"

LeBeau grinned as he aimed the weapon at the two guards. "Watch me," he said.

Hogan nodded and turned his attention to Newkirk. "How is he?" he asked glancing at Hotchner.

"His breathin's a bit ragged, sir. And I'm gonna need help carryin' him."

"Okay." Hogan looked at Olsen. "Help Newkirk."

Newkirk appeared somewhat panicked. "Sir, what about the bloody recording device? This here cell is bugged. They've been hearin' everything we said."

Fuchs chuckled. "Oh, I forgot. It seems that recorder had a problem. Some sort of malfunction that won't let it record anything."

The Englander smirked at Fuchs as he and Olsen, who had handed his weapon to Hogan, struggled to get Hotchner to his feet.

"You think of everything, mate," he said.

"You're a traitor to the Fatherland!" von Eisenburg sneered. "Major Hochstetter will enjoy torturing you before killing you!"

"But you won't be around to see it," Fuchs reminded him.

The German sergeant reached back in his mouth and hurled a stream of spittle into Fuchs' face. "Traitor!" he snarled loudly.

Hogan pointed his weapon at the sergeant, anger on his face. He watched Fuchs wipe his face with one hand and take a deep breath, glaring at the sergeant, his ice blue eyes speaking volumes however. The intense hatred in them was noticeable to all of them.

Looking around to be sure all men were accounted for, Hogan gestured with his sidearm for everybody to head out while indicating he and Fuchs were staying behind for now.

"I'll join you outside shortly," he promised. "Go."

The two men waited and watched as the others left Gestapo Headquarters with Newkirk and Olsen struggling with Hotchner while walking. When they were finally alone, Hogan studied his friend.

"Ready, Fritz?"

"Are you?"

Hogan let out a deep breath. "This is going to hurt me more than it does you."

Fuchs chuckled. "Somehow I don't think that's true."

As Hogan raised his arm, he paused hearing footsteps. Both men spotted Olsen jogging toward them.

"What are you doing here?" Hogan asked. "You're supposed to be in the truck with the others."

"You're gonna need my help, sir. Just take it on good authority that you will."

Hogan rolled his eyes, then brought the butt of his weapon down on Fuchs' head sending the German crashing to the floor nearly unconscious.

Olsen removed a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against the bloody wound in Braun's chest. He then knelt beside Fuchs and wiped the bloody handkerchief against the German's blond hair.

"You can't expect to be struck on the head and there not be blood, sir," he remarked with a grin looking up at Hogan. "I figured you might have overlooked that so I thought I'd be ready to help." He got to his feet. "Now we can leave, Colonel."

Hogan took Fuchs sidearm and threw it down the hall so it appeared the officer was disarmed and his weapon tossed aside. He got to his feet, then he and Olsen hurried outside and got in the waiting truck.

Now alone, Fuchs let out a deep breath and glanced around. All he could do now was wait. The major would be here very soon and he had to be convincing.

"I hope he comes soon," he said quietly as he grimaced. "This floor is cold."

(End of Flashback)

Hotch closed the journal and let out a deep breath.

"They got them out," he said quietly. "Fuchs kept his word to help get the three men out and he did exactly that." He realized there didn't seem to be anything Hogan couldn't do, nor any lack of people he could count on to help him. Now he began to wonder how Fuchs will make out with Hochstetter, and how Hogan would make out when the major came barreling in Stalag 13.