With the move edging closer and closer, James had a busy morning. First, Carter set up the camera and took his picture for the fake ID cards and passport. Then Newkirk called the kid in for a fitting of what was finished of the clothes. They fit well enough considering James was a practical skeleton. Finally, Colonel Hogan walked the boy through the map of the route leading to the sub that would pick him up in the Netherlands.
"Think you can manage the trip?" the Colonel asked, wrapping the map up.
James nodded. "I've been getting my strength back bit by bit."
"Good. You'll need every ounce of it." Hogan shoved the map into a footlocker for safe keeping. "One more night here and then you'll be on your way."
Worms crawled around in James' stomach. The day he had dreamed of for so long was almost here. He wrapped his arms around himself to keep from throwing up.
Colonel Hogan squeezed his shoulder before heading towards the door. He still had duties to attend to. Prior to reaching the door, however, LeBeau pushed it open with Kinch in toe. He held the "kettle" which doubled as a radio. James looked up and stood as the Sergeant fiddled with the kettle to hook it up to the wall.
"What's the matter?" Hogan asked, nearly being knocked down by Carter and Newkirk.
"I was sweeping the porch when I heard Klink get a call on the phone," Newkirk explained. "I heard him say something about an escaped prisoner and thought he might be talking about our friend."
The James' color puddled at his feet. Calling only meant one thing; they wanted to search the camp. Soon there would be that god-awful rumbling truck coming through the gates. James could almost hear it if it wasn't for a panicked voice coming through the speaker of the kettle.
"-Yes, I've asked the camp's senior prisoner to keep an eye on his men for any sign of disease," the disembodied voice said. That must be Klink.
There was a pause and James asked, "Can we not hear what's on the phone?"
Kinch shook his head. "Tapping it would be too risky. Besides, it was enough trouble bugging Klink's office."
Hogan held up his hand to silence the Sergeant as Klink's voice came back. "I assure you, Major, there is no need for a visit. If there was, I would- Yes, Major. Yes, I know it can be hard to spot certain things. Yes, tomorrow will be fine." They exchanged the usual ending before Kinch turned off the radio.
James felt his fingers start to shake, followed by his hands leading up to his arms. Major Klaus was coming here. Undoubtedly accompanied by Captain Marx. They'd take command of this camp before Klink knew what hit them. Every inch of the barracks would be searched. James placed his head in his hands to try and block the images of their shiny black boots stopping in front of the bed he hid under. They'd flip it before dragging him out to the front yard and shooting him.
The gun shot still rang in his ears as Newkirk shook James back to reality. His vision blurred a little before registering that he was still in Colonel Hogan's quarters and sitting on the bed, not lying under it. Every soldier stared at him; their eyes expectant. "What?" he asked, unsure of the information they wanted.
"Who called Colonel Klink?" Hogan asked, arms folded in front of his chest.
"M-Major Klaus. He's in command of us prisoners. And he's p-probably bringing C-Ca-Captain Marx with him."
"What are these men like?" Hogan questioned.
"R-Ruthless. They'd let a man die in the snow sooner than help him up. Th-They aren't like Schultz or…or really any other German I've met. Th-They're horrible…" James felt his vision fuzz and that ringing in his ears again. Before any image could materialize, however, he shook his head and squeezed Newkirk's hand.
Newkirk squeezed back slowly and Colonel Hogan pressed on, "How thorough are these men?"
"They'd tear these barracks apart nail by nail," James replied. "They have a perfect record just like Klink."
"Couldn't James just hide in the tunnel?" Carter asked.
Hogan shook his head as he answered, "Yeah, but what's to stop them from stumbling upon something they shouldn't? Like our maps or radios or guns?"
Everyone went silent.
"Is there nothing Klink can do about it? I mean, what right do those Krauts have searching another man's camp?" Newkirk finally chimed in. James had a death grip on his hand.
"Not when he thinks there's some kind of disease going around…" James looked up at Colonel Hogan and saw the gears turning in his head. A light bulb clicked on and a small smile spread across Colonel's face. "Men, I think Klink needs to know about a little outbreak."
"What kind of outbreak?" Kinch questioned.
"Pink eye," replied the officer. "Easy to catch, spread, and fake. Carter, whip something up that'll make the men look ill. Kinch, tell London everything is still a go. Finally, Newkirk, LeBeau, get James ready for Germany. Can't have him freaking out every time someone says guten morgen to him."
James caught a glimpse of slight contempt in Colonel Hogan's eyes. James swallowed a lump that swelled in his throat. The Colonel was noticing his spells.
