A/N: Well good God Gertie, has it been a while since I've posted something up on here. Hello, my friends. Sorry for me going MIA suddenly. I just got a new job as a substitute teacher this year, and it's consumed a lot of my attention and energy. The school year is finally coming to an end next week, so my schedule is clearing up to do some revising and last time edits on stories I have on my Drive so I can post them for everyone to read. Currently working on a story for Hogan's background/biography, and it's a very tedious project of mine. Actually, it's more like a pain in the neck, but I'm determined to see it through. Enough with the rambling, though. Here's my newest story for everyone to read. Enjoy, guys! And like usual, leave me those reviews! :D

Chapter 1:

It was another average day at Luft Stalag 13. Guards made their usual patrols around camp, prisoners did their daily routines of playing sports or relaxing in their barracks, and the Kommandant was barricaded in his office focusing all his attention on paperwork needed to be done for Berlin.

In barracks two, Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior POW Officer of Stalag 13 and head commander of Papa Bear's underground operation, was in his quarters catching up on sleep, while his boys, also his core unit for the operation, played a game of poker at the table with a bunch of cookies as their betting wages.

Newkirk took four cookies and placed them in the center of the table before turning his eyes to LeBeau. "I'll raise yah three chocolate chips and one sugar cookie for your seven snicker doodles," he said.

"I'll add five macaroons to your raise and a peanut butter chocolate chip one as well." Kinch added, placing his wages before everyone. He went to grab one of his peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, but noticed his entire stack was missing. Nothing more but a bunch of crumbs remained where they once lay. He let out a heavy breath of air and turned an accusing glare at all of them. "Alright, who ate all the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies?"

The two corporals and Kinch slowly made their eyes towards Carter, who was sitting there staring at all of them dumbfounded. He was chewing something and holding what appeared to be a cookie of some kind in his gloved hand.

"What?" He asked innocently. "I got hungry."

"André, you cannot eat the wages." LeBeau scolded.

"That'd be like eatin' the bloomin' money off a black jack table in Vegas," Newkirk said.

"Well it's pretty hard not to eat them when you just sit here and stare at them. That smell was just about ready to kill me," Carter answered, defending his position.

"That ain't the only thing that's gonna kill ya."

The young sergeant narrowed his eyes at Newkirk before everyone got back to the game, when the door to the barracks opened, and Sergeant Hans Schultz came waddling inside. He spotted the scene before him and felt his eyes widen in size before subconsciously raising his pointer finger and directing it at the table covered with cards and cookies. "What do you boys think you are doing?! You know gambling is strictly verboten in the barracks. Oh, if the Kommandant finds out about this, it would be worth my life!" (1)

"Relax, Schultz," Kinch answered, laying a card in the middle of the table. "Can't call it gambling when we're using cookies instead of money. The worst that can happen is one of us getting a stomach ache from eating all this sugar."

Schultz spent less than three seconds thinking about it, then let out a short breath of air through his nose. "You make a good point," he answered, reaching his hand out for a chocolate chip cookie, when LeBeau swatted his hand away.

"That's betting wages," the little Frenchman scolded.

The fluffy sergeant made his sparkling blue eyes to Kinch. "Is there perhaps room for one more?" He asked curiously.

"Only if you promise not to inhale the entire table along with the cookies," Newkirk commented teasingly, earning a brief glare from Schultz in response.

"Jolly joker."

Grabbing the spot where Hogan usually sat in, Schultz plopped himself down, grabbed a few cookies for makeshift poker chips, then took the hand of cards Kinch shuffled for him, and the group of six began a new round. Carter went for two chocolate chips for his next bet, when the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and the colonel himself came out into the common area.

"Schultz," Hogan began, stopping a few feet behind the German. "Sorry to be a damper on things, but I've gotta put this game on hold for the moment. I need to speak to my men in private."

"But Colonel Hogan, we just started," Schultz stated, surprised.

"Sorry, Schultz, but it's top priority. Besides; you don't want Colonel Klink to catch you abandoning your post again, do you?"

It was a brief three seconds before Schultz's eyes widened to the size of saucers, his skin color flushing pale at the horrific realization. "The Kommandant!" He gasped, shooting to his feet. "The Kommandant!" He did his attempt at running out of the barracks while slamming the door behind him, but quickly returned after another three seconds when he realized he had forgotten his rifle. Schultz grabbed the firearm and just as promptly exited the barracks, again closing the door behind him.

While Hogan shook his head and did his best to fight back from laughter, Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Blimey," he grumbled to himself. "Ol' Schultzie forgets his rifle more than Andrew forgets his own birthday."

"Hey! That was one time," Carter retorted defensively, looking up from the cards in his hands.

"Try more like seven," Kinch said. "Last year when I asked what you wanted for your birthday, you had no idea that it was a week away from then."

"I know my birthday as well as I know the back of my hand. It's March...March…" Carter began to scratch the back of his head awkwardly as his mind ran blank. "March...Well at least I know the month it's in."

"Alright guys, focus here," Hogan ordered, grabbing all of their attention. "We've got a new assignment, and it's a big one. Otto just radioed me on the one you guys made for my room, and he says the Luftwaffe just captured a group of shot down saboteurs from London. Three guys a part of Operation Main. They're being brought here for captivity in a few days, and we've gotta get them back to London before the Gestapo comes to pick 'em up for questioning."

"Operation Main. That's the biggest Allied operation in London right now," Kinch said, his eyes widening slightly.

"Also the most secretive," Newkirk added, mindlessly shuffling a deck of cards. "Those bloody Gestapo Krauts get any knowledge of it, it could be a major setback for our boys."

"Which is why this assignment is a top priority for us," Hogan said, turning to his Englishman. He rested his arm over his leg as he continued to think. "We gotta get those guys out of here and back to London...but how do we do it is the question."

"Kidnap?" Carter proposed hesitantly.

Kinch turned an irritated glance at the younger sergeant. "And just exactly how do you suggest we kidnap three Allied flyers in Luftwaffe custody?" He remarked.

Carter pursed his lips as he thought on it for a brief moment before turning back to the radioman. "Power outage in Luftwaffe Headquarters?"

"Andrew," Newkirk said. "Eat your cookie, and shut up."

"What do we do, Colonel?" LeBeau asked curiously.

"We do what we always do," Hogan remarked. "Use the Krauts to our advantage. And we do it by using our weakest link to them."

All four of Hogan's men turned a knowing glance to each other, then made their eyes back to the colonel as they all said in unison, "Klink."

Hogan nodded. "Klink."

(1) Verboten - forbidden