Guilty Until Proven Innocent
A Hogan's Heroes story
By Deana Lisi
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Hogan's Heroes. Boo hoo.
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"Okay, Andrew, we gotta make this fast."
"Right."
Newkirk watched as Carter darted over to one end of the bridge, before he started running towards the other. The bridge in the town of Steudten was very long, so they'd decided to place explosives at each end, to ensure that the entire thing would be destroyed. It took him a few minutes to reach it, and he climbed the underside and quickly put the bomb in place. It only took a few minutes, and he quickly climbed down.
The bombs were set to explode in two hours, and Newkirk headed back into the woods to meet up with Carter.
A minute into his walk, he was startled by the abrupt sound of a gunshot. Oh no! he thought, immediately assuming that Carter had been spotted. He pulled out his own gun and quickly started running in the direction that the shot had come from. Please tell me ya ain't shot, Andrew…he thought to himself, a knot of fear growing in his stomach.
Another gunshot sounded, and he started running even faster, trying to be quick but quiet at the same time. He suddenly heard a rustling sound and stopped, just in time to nearly have a heart attack when a deer literally ran into him, making him drop his gun and stumble back a step.
Another shot suddenly sounded, and a sudden pain shot down his leg. Gasping in shock, he fell back into a tree and landed on his rear.
A second later, a young man looking no older than sixteen burst through the trees, carrying a rifle. He stopped in shock at the sight of a stranger sitting on the ground. "Wer sind Sie?" he said, asking who Newkirk was.
Newkirk's gun lay at the feet of the German, and the Englishman looked down at his right leg, which was bleeding halfway between his ankle and knee. The pain wasn't too severe, which told him that he'd probably only been grazed by the bullet. Still, it hurt a lot, and he was upset to find that he'd obviously been caught by a hunter's stray bullet. I gotta meet up with Andrew an' get back ta the stalag!
Before either of them could say anything else, another man came running over, staring in shock. "Ein Engländer!" he exclaimed.
Newkirk sighed. Their black outfits had gotten muddy and soaked the previous night in the rain, so he and Carter had chosen to wear their regular uniforms for this mission. Obviously, these young men knew how to identify the British military. Typical luck.
The newcomer saw the gun in the grass and grabbed it, sticking it into his waistband before pointing his rifle at Newkirk.
"Nein!" exclaimed the younger boy, reaching out to push it away. "Sie können ihn nicht schießen!"
"Aber er ist ein Engländer!"
Newkirk looked around urgently, wondering if he could somehow slip away. The German men didn't know that he could understand what they were saying…The younger one doesn't want 'im ta shoot me, but the older one wants me dead because I'm from England…bloody wonderful…
Suddenly, the front of his jacket was grabbed by the older boy, and Newkirk was taken aback by the look of utter hatred in his eyes. "You are coming with us," he said, speaking English, with barely a trace of accent.
Newkirk looked down at the rifle pointed at his chest, saying nothing.
"Binden Sie ihn fest!" the man yelled to the other.
Clearly hesitating, the younger boy took rope out of a bag slung over his shoulder.
They're gonna truss me up like a bloomin' deer, an' probably turn me in ta the Gestapo! Newkirk realized. Finally, he decided to speak. "Look, fellas…why don't ya just let me go? No 'ard feelin's that ya shot me, I'll just go on me merry way…"
Stars erupted in his vision, and Newkirk suddenly found himself lying flat on the ground with his head spinning. It took him a few seconds to realize that the man had punched him in the eye. Suddenly he was flipped over onto his stomach, and his arms were roughly pulled back. He struggled, trying to get away, but a sudden punch to his right kidney quickly stopped him.
The older boy tied the rope impossibly tight before yanking Newkirk to his feet.
Wincing, Newkirk tried to stand up straight on his wounded leg. He was surprised at the young German's strength, and figured that the man outweighed himself by forty or fifty pounds. I hope 'e doesn't intend ta use me as a punchin' bag, he thought. 'Cause 'e would definitely win any fight we get into…
The man jabbed Newkirk with his rifle, and he limped in the direction that he was forced to walk, wondering how on earth he was going to get out of this one…
TBC
Uh oh, what have I gotten Newkirk into THIS time? LOL
