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Between The Lines

Chapter 25

The Shuffle

Tunnels under Barrack 2

"Papa Bear, this is Momma Bear. Come in. Over"

Three days of radio silence and the radio crackled to life. Baker dropped the book he was reading and grabbed for the microphone, spilling his coffee across the desk.

"Hello Momma Bear. This is Papa Bear, we read you. Over." Grabbing a rag, he swiped the coffee over the edge of the table and onto the dirt floor.

"We have a dime drop for you at area three in one hour. Over.

Abandoning the rag, he looked at his watch. Area three was about one and a half miles south of camp.

"Roger that Momma Bear. Area three, one hour.

Over."

"We will give you more information later. Maintain radio silence, Papa Bear. Momma Bear Over and Out."

Baker stared at the radio. "That's it?" Jumping up, he ran to the ladder and rattled the cable leading to the lower bunk, hiding the entrance to barrack two.

Kinch peered over the side, rubbing his eyes. "Baker? What's up?"

"We just got a call from London. They're dropping something in one hour in area three."

"What do you mean… something?"

"That's all they said, a drop in area thee in one hour, and they signed off."

"How big?" Louis was already climbing down from the top bunk.

"Small… it's a dime drop." Baker answered.

"Newkirk." Kinch gave the Englander a shake. "Newkirk, wake up."

Balancing on his elbow, Newkirk stared blankly and yawned. "What's happened?"

"London's making a drop in an hour. I need you and LeBeau to go meet it."

Sliding out from under his blanket, he dropped to the floor and headed for the ladder, mumbling as he disappeared into the tunnel. "Blimey, don't hear from them in two days and in the middle of the night they want to play army."

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Berlin

"General Kaltenbrunner."

Hearing his name, Kaltenbrunner stopped. General Burkhalter was exiting their meeting with the Fuhrer and quickly approached.

"General, I was wondering if we could meet in your office for a few minutes." Burkhalter had a few follow-up questions from his meeting a few days earlier with Oberst Knefler.

Kaltenbrunner smiled and motioned him forward. "I was expecting to hear from you."

"You were?"

"You want to know what we are doing with your prisoner, don't you?" Kaltenbrunner walked with Burkhalter down the hall to his office.

"I heard you tell the Fuhrer what you are attempting to do. I am just curious why you think this 'LSD' is a better way to go than surgery."

Entering his outer office, Kaltenbrunner picked up his mail and ordered, "No calls. General Burkhalter and I are in conference." Proceeding to the inner office, he dropped his mail on the desk and motioned. "Please, sit down, General."

Burkhalter lowered himself into the wingback chair and waited.

Kaltenbrunner continued. "After spending all day yesterday with both Oberst Knefler and Professor Von Tillermaan, they convinced me that a lobotomy is not the way to go. It is not precise and they both feel it is only a matter of time before the practice will be abandoned all together because of that fact. They believe the new drugs coming out have much more promise. They are both leaders in their field. We should listen to them. Oberst Knefler believes this new drug called LSD could aid in lowering defenses and allow indoctrination to take place. He is anxious to try it on Colonel Hogan."

Burkhalter considered Kaltenbrunner's explanation. "I suppose you're right. We should listen to the experts."

Suddenly, the phone began to ring against explicit orders. Kaltenbrunner's face hardened, ready to chastise the secretary on the other end. But as Burkhalter watched, the anger dissipated and was replaced with a look of concern. "What do you mean he failed to show up for today's test?" Kaltenbrunner paused, listening. "His housekeeper hasn't heard from him since yesterday? Notify the Gestapo and keep me informed." Kaltenbrunner stopped to listen again. "They are all ready checking into it? Yes, have them get back to me." Hanging up the phone, Kaltenbrunner stared at his desk, thinking.

"The Gestapo? Is there a problem?" Burkhalter asked, frowning and leaning forward in his chair.

Looking up, Kaltenbrunner shared. "Oberst Knefler has not arrived for the last test of ayahuasca. It is not like him. It was scheduled for nine this morning." Both Generals glanced at the clock. It was now ten forty-five. "And his housekeeper says he did not come home last night. I'll…"

The phone began to ring for the second time. Kaltenbrunner spun around to answer. "General Kaltenbrunner." He brashly announced. "Are you sure? How do you know?" A momentary pause while the General listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line. Kaltenbrunner sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk, still holding the phone to his ear. "What was he doing in Grieshiem at that hour of the night?" Still stunned, he listened. "I suppose that is a possibility. Call me back when you know more."

Burkhalter could see something had happened that shook Kaltenbrunner to the core and waited for the General to compose himself.

After a few seconds, Kaltenbrunner Looked up from his desk and explained. "They found Oberst Knefler's car just outside of Grieshiem. It had been caught in the bombing attack last night. They also found traces of his clothing. He appears to have been killed in the attack. It is thought the target was Gestapo headquarters in Darmstadt."

Burkhalter sat quietly. Oberst Knefler was a key component in their program. General Kaltenbrunner worked closely with him and was feeling the loss of both an important officer and a friend.

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Hogan's Room

Something was going on. Nobody had come for him. The lights had been turned on in his room for too long for it not to be past nine o'clock. Something had changed. What, he could only speculate. Waiting allowed time to think of all the possibilities. Some were not so pleasant, but one possibility gave him hope.

Pacing was his only outlet, and he made good use of it until finally the door unlock and two orderlies entered with the restraint for his arms in hand. Turning to face them and not knowing why there was a delay, he took a step back and resisted as they grabbed his wrists and strapped them into the leather restraints attached to the belt they fastened to his waist. Taking up their positions on either side of him, they grabbed his upper arms and headed for the door.

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Hammelburg Underground

Knefler, coming to his senses, raised his head and looked around. Trying to move, he soon realized he was tied to a chair with his hands tied behind him and a gag in his mouth. His eyes settled on the muscular man with a mask over his face, sitting at a table, staring back at him.

Lars looked to the opposite corner of the room and nodded toward Knefler. "He's waking up."

Hearing movement to his right, Knefler turned his head to see a second masked man scrutinizing him. It didn't take him long to grasp he had been abducted; most probably by the underground he had begun to suspect Hogan was involved with. The room was lit by a single small window, which was high up on the wall to his right. There appeared to be dead grass on the outside growing around it. He must be at least partially underground. Ironically, there was a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing he was right about Hogan being involved with the Resistance. Too bad he didn't figure it out sooner. But his focus had been on other things.

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Klink's Office

Klink hung up the phone. General Burkhalter had just informed him that Oberst Knefler had been killed in an air raid. Stunned, he poured himself a glass of schnapps. He didn't dislike the man, apprehensive of him, yes, but he had always been courteous and respectful. Holding his glass up in reverence, he saluted and swallowed the schnapps in one gulp.

He couldn't help wondering how Knefler's death would affect the 'brain washing' work he was involved with and whether Hogan would still be caught up in the testing. It would certainly make his life simpler if Hogan was just an ordinary prisoner. Klink's smile faded as he realized there was nothing ordinary about Hogan. The 'diamonds' still hidden in his bedside table with the gun taken from him by Schultz in solitary were tangible reminders of just how out of the ordinary he was. But still, dire situations always seemed to work out for him, with that insufferable smile of his ending up on his face, as if he knew it would all along.

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Testing Lab

Hogan looked around the room as he entered. The two doctors were waiting for him. Their demeanor had changed drastically from the previous two days. They worked silently and without eye contact, as if their thoughts were somewhere else. As soon as the heart monitor was attached and he was fastened into the chair, Fischer began attaching EEG electrodes as Wagner started the IV for what Hogan hoped was the final time. Catching a glimpse of Wagner's wristwatch, he frowned. Twelve noon. Three hours late. Maybe…

The door suddenly opened and Von Tillermaan entered. "Good morning, gentlemen. This is the final test in our series. I'm not expecting any surprises. I think we have established the safety of the medicine we're testing."

"Oh good, then let's just skip it." Hogan suggested.

Von Tillermaan stepped to Hogan's side and reached for the gas mask. "This will administer the vaporized medicine. You will start out with oxygen and then the medicine will be introduced."

Hogan Instinctively turned his head as the mask captured his nose and mouth, prompting an assist from Fischer.

"Pull the strap tight, Doctor. Make sure we have a good seal around the edges. We don't want to gas ourselves too." Tillermaan instructed.

Hogan frowned as the smell of rubber mixed with oxygen filled his senses. The sounds in the room were replaced with his own breathing, as everything started to melt away. His muscles stopped supporting him, and he sank into oblivion and floated without being hindered by the weight of his own body. Vivid colors once again filled the space before his eyes.

I'm floating… in water? And someone or something is holding me.

He tried to hold his breath to stop or at least slow down the medicine hitting his brain and gain some control. But the medicine had already filled his lungs and continued to be absorbed in his blood. His brain was under assault and he was helpless to stop it.

A transparent geometric matrix filled his entire vision and then… swoosh he was traveling through space at unbelievable speeds. So many colors and shapes I've never seen before. And then… An explosion into… where… who am I? I feel everything around me… I am everything… the entire universe. What… Who is that… He glows like light shining through frosted glass. His brain is emitting colors… energy… connecting to a heart… bursting with colors and reaching into my… conscious… my… soul. What is he saying? Being born is a great gift… we are a miracle. That we are aware of our own existence is… a wonder… a bequest… a legacy. This… place… this universe is… love and beauty… it has consciousness, benevolence and… yes, sacredness... the root of creation. I… understand.

No… wait…where are you going? It's getting harder to see… I want to stay a little longer… keep… this…

Everything began to move away, as if swirling into a storm. Something was squeezing his arm. Looking down, he saw he was sitting in a chair. The weight of his body pulled on his muscles. A different world was materializing in front of his eyes. A familiar voice was asking him questions.

"Do you hear me, Colonel Hogan?"

"Yes, I hear you." Hogan answered. A crude obtrusive light pierced his eyes, causing him to squint and turn his head away. The voice continued to give orders.

"Stop the timer. He has rejoined us. Get a blood draw every five minutes for fifteen minutes."

Hogan finally recognized the voice as Von Tillermaan's. His vision was broadening and his surroundings let him know he was back in the lab he had never left.

Feelings of peace lingered. He didn't really care what the doctors and Tillermaan were doing. The words of the entity he had seen still filled his head. Awareness of our own existence is a gift. He still felt the love and patience of… the other place and struggled to be present in the here and now.

Not real… can't be real. Let it go. Suddenly, he remembered Oberst Knefler. Where was he? Looking around the room, he did not see him. "Aren't we missing somebody?"

Nobody responded. He was a nonentity. It was such a stark contrast from what he had just experienced that it made the transition back to this reality that much harder. Peace and love and oneness all came flooding back, and he shoved it aside… again.

Screw your head back on. Stay focused. Forcing himself to concentrate on the doctors' activities helped. EEG leads being removed, final vital signs being taken, blood being drawn, Von Tillermaan collecting charts and thumbing through them. Tangible evidence of where he was distanced, where he had been… or, rather, thought he had been.

He shook his head. The feelings were persistent. He drifted back to the luminous figure, and the message relayed. It was still all so very real. Existence is a gift. Peace and understanding… nothing else matters. Shaking his head again, he frowned. If you don't straighten your thinking out, your gifted existence could end.

Von Tillermaan again appeared at Hogan's side, assisting the orderlies with removing the chair restraints and placing his left arm back into the restraint around his waist. He felt himself being helped to stand and leaned heavily on the support they offered. He was always amazed at how tired these tests left him.

"Take him back to his room, remove the restraints and place him in bed so he doesn't fall and break his other arm. I'll find out what we are doing with him." Von Tillermaan instructed.

Hogan attempted to look in Tillermaan's direction. Trying to read meaning into his words. "Did something change?"

Before he could get a response, he was on the move and the orderlies dragged him out the door.

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Stalag XIII

"Roll Call, everybody out. Raus, raus."

Carter loudly complained above the mumbling going on in the rank. "Why a roll call in the middle of the day, Schultz?"

"Eins, zwei, drei, vier… the Kommandant wants to tell you something… funf, sechs, sieben, acht, neun, zehn…"

Newkirk turned to look at Kinch. "You don't suppose it's bad news?"

"elf, zwolf, dreizehn, vierzehn…" Schultz paused and walked through the empty space that was 'funfzehn'.

The mumbling quieted and was replaced by sideways glances, as the prisoners looked among themselves for answers.

"Repoooort."

Stepping forward, Schultz announced, "All present and accounted for." Leaning forward he whispered, "Except for Colonel Hogan."

Stomping his foot at the remark, he twisted his swagger stick under his arm. "Dummkopf. I know that."

Looking up and down the ranks of barrack 2, he announced, "I have news for you about your commanding officer. The SS has completed their tests and Colonel Hogan will be returning today."

The cheering began immediately and was just as quickly halted.

"Silence!" Pausing, he looked at Kinch. "Sergeant Kinchloe, I wish to talk to you in my office." Looking at the line of men, he ordered, "Diss-misssed!"

Kinch watched Klink cross the compound as his three comrades surrounded him.

"I wonder what he didn't want to tell the rest of us?" LeBeau questioned.

"Maybe the Colonel will know what we are supposed to do with that stuff London dropped last night." Carter stated.

"Shh, Carter. Schultz will hear you." Newkirk bumped Carter with his shoulder for emphasis.

Schultz turned and motioned Kinch forward. "Let's go. The Kommandant is waiting."

Klink entered his office, unbuttoning his coat as he walked. Hanging his cap and coat on the coat rack, he turned to address Kinch.

"Sergeant, I don't know what condition Colonel Hogan is in. General Burkhalter only said he would be returning today. Have your medic stand by in case he needs medical assistance."

"Yes, sir. I'll tell him. Do you know what time he is expected?"

"No." Klink frowned. "Arrangements are being made with the Gestapo for his transfer." Lowering his head, he turned and walked to his desk. "That is all. Dismissed."

Offering the obligatory salute, Kinch practically ran across the compound. Opening the door, everyone rushed forward and began talking at once.

LeBeau popped up in front of Kinch and started waving his arms. "Back up and hold it down. Kinch can't hear us if we all talk at the same time." Then, immediately, turning to face Kinch, he demanded, "What did Klink say, Kinch?"

"The Gestapo is transporting the Colonel. He didn't know when."

"Well, that's bloody marvelous. Why doesn't the Luftwaffe transport him?"

Kinch continued. "He doesn't know the Colonel's condition. Burkhalter just called and told him he was coming home… um, I mean back today. He told me to have a medic standing by."

Kinch was forced forward by the opening of the barrack door. The tangled group of men stepped back as Wilson entered. "Did I hear somebody say medic?"

"Just as a precaution, Joe. Klink doesn't have any information on his condition." Kinch affirmed.

"After four days, there's no telling what condition he could be in." Newkirk turned and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and headed for the table.

"Give him some space when he gets back. He'll probably want to be alone for a while." LeBeau grabbed the coffeepot and took it to the sink.

Kinch had not shared London's latest radio message. He was to observe the Colonel upon his return and decide whether to share the message with him. He debated with himself whether to follow London's orders. The Colonel deserved to be able to sit this one out.

Watching all the commotion, Carter quietly took up his vigil, a position by the window with a clear view of the gate.

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Hogan's Room

"You're busting out of here, Colonel." Tillermaan announced. "You are being returned to Stalag 13."

Relief flooded Hogan's tired mind. It had been a grueling month, but the last four days had been literally unreal.

Tillermaan handed Hogan his uniform. "I had the laundry repair the seam on your shirt's shoulder."

"What? Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Thanks."

"The Darmstadt Gestapo will take you halfway, then you will be transferred to the Hammelburg Gestapo for the remainder of the trip."

Hogan nodded, knowing Hochstetter wouldn't miss this assignment. "Forewarned is forearmed," Hogan replied.

The smile on Hogan's face faded. "Let's get to the obvious question. What happened to Knefler?"

Tillermaan quickly and nonchalantly answered. "Oberst Knefler was caught in an air raid and killed. Berlin has decided to put you back on 'ice' until after the war."

Hogan froze where he stood. "Air raid? He was killed in an air raid?"

"That's the story. They found his car destroyed just outside of Grieshiem. That's about thirty-one miles south of here. They speculate he was going to Darmstadt to talk to the Gestapo about having a couple of their men assigned to him to watch you. But nobody knows for sure."

Hogan looked a little harder at Von Tillermaan. "Do you think that's the true story?"

"That is the official story, Colonel. You decide what's true."

Hogan looked thoughtful as he laid his uniform on the bed. "

Whatever happened, I'm glad to be going back to Stalag 13. What you said about putting me on 'ice' until after the war, do you think I can count on that?"

"Yes. They will put all their energy toward winning the war. And with Oberst Knefler gone, there's no one to take his place right now." Von Tillermaan watched Hogan rub the back of his neck, and recognized the stress he had been under. "I read your dossier before you arrived. As I mentioned earlier, the testing we put you through was strenuous, especially after what you have dealt with recently. I wouldn't be surprised if you had a few minor hallucinations. If you do, don't worry, they won't last long. Try to give yourself a day or two to rest. But right now, you'd better get dressed. The Gestapo will be here soon."

Von Tillermaan held out his hand. "Good Luck to you and your men."

Hogan took the offered hand. "You have saved me from more testing and given us the ability to continue our mission. Thank you doesn't seem like enough." Looking more thoughtful, he asked. "What about you? You're dancing in a snake pit. One wrong move and you may get bit."

Von Tillermaan laughed and walked toward the door. "That's an interesting analogy, Colonel. But just like a snake charmer, I know which ones to play the 'Pungi' for." Reaching for the door, he exited, adding, "Just like someone else I know."

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London

"Momma Bear calling Sparrow. Come in Sparrow. Over."

"This is Sparrow. Go ahead Momma Bear. Over."

"You will meet your contact at 0100 in the woods on the north side of touchdown sector two. Recognition code, moonstruck. Over."

"Roger that. 0100, touchdown, sector two. Over."

"Continue with radio silence until we contact you. Mamma Bear over and out."

London's radio operator looked up at General Walters. "Message sent, sir."

General Walters handed a second message to the radio operator. "Good. Now send this to Papa Bear."

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Gestapo Handoff

Hogan sat quietly in the back of the truck, between two Darmstadt Gestapo guards, his hands chained and cuffed to the truck bed between his legs. Two more guards sat by the tailgate, guarding against any attempted escape. The bandage on his right hand gave some protection from the chaffing of the cuff, but his left wrist took the full force of every bump.

Watching the road disappear behind him was hypnotizing, and his mind drifted. He found himself reliving the last few days. Was it really possible for the soul to leave the body and return? It was one explanation for what happened to him. But it was just as likely a drug-induced hallucination. In fact, it was more than likely he assured himself. But does that negate the experience?

Without warning, the truck braked to a stop, causing Hogan to abandon his thoughts as he lurched forward, forcing the cuffs on his wrist to bite into his flesh. Grimacing, he pushed himself back on the seat and chastised himself for not paying attention.

Footsteps announced that someone was walking to the back of the truck. "Get the prisoner out and take him to our truck." The voice barking the orders was unmistakably Hochstetter's.

Hogan took in a slow breath. I knew it.

The two guards nearest him unlocked the chain attaching the cuffs to the truck bed and pushed Hogan out ahead of them into the arms of the two Hammelburg Gestapo guards, who turned him to face Hochstetter.

"Good evening, Major. Do you personally transfer all your prisoners?" Hogan goaded.

Hochstetter looked Hogan up and down with a satisfied gleam in his eye. "Just the dangerous ones, Colonel Hogan." Nodding to the guards to move him on, he was quickly shoved around to the back of the other truck, where more chains were attached to his legs and another chain was placed over his upper arms and around his chest. Two burly guards reached down and pulled him up onto the truck bed and ushered him to the back of the truck, where he was chained to the seat. A guard sat on either side of him and four guards sat along the sides of the truck, two on either side.

Hochstetter walked to the back of the truck, folding his orders and putting them back in his pocket. Checking to see that his instructions had been carried out, he sneered and joined his men.

"Comfortable, Colonel Hogan?"

Hogan looked down at the chains. "You don't think you're overdoing this a bit?"

Smiling slyly, he pulled out his gun and clicked off the safety. "The underground freed prisoners and burned our post to the ground, killing three of our men. I am not taking any chances with you." Noticing the bandaged hand, he reached and examined the wrappings. "You don't have anything concealed in here, do you?"

"I'm hurt. Don't you trust me, Major?" Hogan asked.

Sneering, Hochstetter looked at the guard sitting next to Hogan and ordered. "Remove it."

Hogan grimaced as the wrapping and splint was roughly removed and his hand turned over to be examined.

"See, Major, nothing there." Hogan confirmed.

"Lucky for you." Hochstetter pressed on the black and blue knuckles as Hogan fought hard not to flinch. Pressing the cuff tighter to close the excess gap the bandage took up; Hochstetter took a seat on the side of the truck to Hogan's right. "Notify the driver to move out."

The guard to Hogan's right reached through the tarp and pounded the roof of the cab with his rifle, and the truck rolled forward.

"Try anything, and your status changes from a transported prisoner to a Gestapo prisoner. So just sit back and enjoy the ride."

"What can I possibly do, chained like this with you and six armed guards surrounding me?"

Satisfied, Hochstetter smiled and agreed. "Nothing."

With Knefler out of his life and his operation back in business, that was exactly what Hogan planned to do. Sit back and do nothing, all the way to Stalag 13.

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