Kinch leaned against the wall of Barracks 7, his eyes on the group of men leaning against the wall of Barracks 2. It had become a game – watching each other watching each other. There had never been any discussion. Newkirk, LeBeau and he had simply drifted to Carter's barracks and taken up posts there. Just as Ander's yahoos had drifted outside to maintain their vigil.
"Hey, look." Carter slipped outside to point at the front gate. "It's Schultz."
"Back inside." Kinch didn't bother giving Carter another lecture about the necessity of staying in the doorway while he was restricted to barracks. He'd already reminded him a dozen times since lunch.
"What's this now?" Newkirk pointed out Klink, who was crossing the compound to meet Schultz at the gate. "That's mighty peculiar."
"Oui." LeBeau took a few steps from the barracks. "What did Schultz say about bringing you a surprise, Kinch?"
"Just that." Kinch considered the odd spectacle at the gate. Klink leaned into the back seat of the car for a few moments, than climbed in and shut the door. The car continued through the gate and drove to the guest quarters.
"What's the score?" Carter strayed from the shelter of the doorway. Schultz tugged a man wrapped in a blanket from the car and carried him quickly up the stairs to the guest quarters. Langenscheidt ran ahead to get the door, while Klink glanced in their direction before disappearing inside. "They took a man inside."
"Brilliant, Andrew." Newkirk nudged Kinch. "You don't suppose the surprise is…"
Kinch shook his head. "Why take him into the guest quarters?"
"Because Klink doesn't want us to see what the filthy bosch have done to him."
"Done to who?" Carter beamed as it came to him. "Colonel Hogan!"
Kinch grabbed Carter before he could sprint across the compound. "You're restricted to your barracks."
"That's not fair! I…"
"Go inside." Kinch gave the young sergeant a firm push towards the door. "We'll tell you what's up."
"Come on. What are we standing around here for?"
Kinch started after Newkirk and LeBeau, then paused to take a quick look at the group outside of Barracks 2. He doubted that they'd cause any trouble for Carter now. They'd no doubt made the same deduction that the rest of them had. Still… "Stay inside and out of trouble, Carter. We'll be back soon."
"Wait a minute!"
Kinch ignored the plea, double-timed it across the compound. Langenscheidt waited for them on the bottom step of the guest quarters.
"Nein." The corporal barred their way with his rifle. "No one goes inside."
"What's it about, Langy?" Newkirk offered a cigarette bribe. "What's wrong with the governor?"
"He's very…" Langenscheidt caught himself. "Nein. I know nothing."
"That's Schultz's line." LeBeau tried to duck around the guard.
"We don't want to cause any trouble." Kinch employed his friendliest tone. "We just want to know how Colonel Hogan is."
" I haven't seen Oberst Hogan since he went to Poland."
"Now, Langy." Newkirk shook a finger at the guard. "Your Ma wouldn't want you telling a fib."
"Fib?" Langenscheidt wrinkled his brow. "What is 'fib?'"
"It means…"
"Langenscheidt! Go get…" Klink stepped onto the porch, frowned at the prisoners. "Never mind. Sgt. Kinchloe, your Colonel has a fever. Do you still have any penicillin?"
"Yes, sir." Kinch took a step forward. "Permission to see him, Kommandant?"
"Bring the medicine. And clean clothes." Klink slipped back inside.
"Yes, sir." Kinch mumbled as he turned to comply. He swore as he collided with another American. "Carter! I told you to stay in your barracks!"
"Never mind that now." Newkirk tugged on Kinch's arm. "Come on."
"Oui." LeBeau grabbed Kinch's other arm.
"Alright, alright." Kinch brushed away his friends. "Where did you hide the penicillin, Newkirk?"
"Where no Kraut will ever find it. I'll just nip off and get it."
"Good. I'll get some clothes." Kinch caught Carter as he attempted to follow Newkirk and LeBeau. "You stay with me. You're still on restriction."
"Aw, Kinch…"
"Not now. I have enough to worry about." Kinch pulled the sergeant into the Negro barracks, parked him on a bunk as he searched for some decent clothes. There was a whole collection of sizes and styles in the tunnel, but he didn't have the time or the patience to go through Anders to get access to them. His own clothes would be too big for the Colonel, but they would have to do for the moment. He was halfway to the door when he remembered his shadow. "Come on, Andrew."
"Kinch, are you…?"
"No." Kinch laughed gently. "I'm not mad at you."
"Good." Carter trailed after his friend. "The Colonel's gonna be ok, now. Right?"
Kinch nodded automatically as he headed for the guest quarters. They found Newkirk and LeBeau waiting for them by the steps.
"Halt." Langenscheidt blocked their way. "The Kommandant sent Sgt Kinchloe for medicine and clothes."
"Right." Kinch held out the pants and shirt. "Klink's expecting us."
Langenscheidt shook his head. "It does not take all four of you."
"Sure, it does." Newkirk mimicked a pompous general. "This was a very dangerous assignment. Kinch had to carry the package, I had to watch the guard tower for overeager Krauts, LeBeau had to scan the perimeter for friendly fire from liberating soldiers and Carter had to watch our backs for retaliatory shots from Anders' men. It's a wonder we made it across the compound at all."
"Now, if you don't mind, we're late." LeBeau wiggled past the guard and to the door.
"Nein…"
"You're doing a fine job." Kinch pointed at the fence. "You keep an eye out and let us know if you see any tanks coming."
"Just give a whistle and we'll be right out." Carter gave the guard a friendly pat on the shoulder as he followed the others indoors.
"Some days it's like fishing in a barrel." Newkirk paused in the living area as he heard Klink's voice from the other room. He waved the others to silence.
"I'm not interested in your serial number." Klink grumbled. "I know it by heart."
"He thinks he's with the Gestapo." Schultz spoke gravely. "Because you hurt him."
"I didn't…"
Kinch ignored Newkirk's 'wait' gesture, burst into the bedroom. Hogan was lying face down on the bed with Klink and Schultz beside him. Their commander was mumbling incoherently.
"What did you do to him?" Kinch barely restrained himself from advancing on the Kommandant.
"I did nothing." Klink hastily covered Hogan with a blanket. "He's delirious.
"We heard Schultz!" Newkirk glared at the German. "He said you hurt him."
"Nein, nein." Schultz interposed himself between the angry prisoners and Klink. "Colonel Hogan has infected wounds. The Kommandant poured alcohol on them. He didn't mean to hurt him, but you have to kill the germs."
"Oh. I…" Kinch took a centering breath. "I'm sorry, Kommandant. I thought…"
"Ja, ja." Klink ignored the mumbled apology, leaned over Hogan. "Hochstetter is gone, Hogan. You're back at Stalag 13."
"…13… tunnel safe?…" Hogan mumbled.
Kinch froze. Newkirk was about to jump in with an explanation when Klink suddenly spoke in German.
"You've been captured by the enemy, Colonel."
Hogan instantly reverted to repeating his name, rank and serial number.
"Alright, that's enough." Klink switched back to English. "You're safe.
Sleep now."
Kinch watched in amazement as Hogan calmed and finally grew silent.
"Colonel Hogan has a fever." Klink quietly addressed the men. "He'll stay here until ….his condition changes."
"Thank you, Kommandant. We appreciate your concern." Kinch came as close to the bed as Schultz would allow. "Can you tell us what happened at Stalag 3, sir?"
"The prisoners at Stalag 3 were moved from Poland to Germany to protect them from enemy fire."
"And to keep the Reds from liberating them." Newkirk mumbled under his breath.
"It was a difficult transfer – there was no time to arrange transportation, the weather was bad, the guards unorganized…" Klink lost his command façade momentarily, quickly recovered it. "Hogan collapsed from fatigue."
"Had nothing to do with the beating he got beforehand, I suppose."
Kinch silenced Newkirk with a look. "I'd like to request permission to stay with the Colonel until he recovers, sir."
"Me too." Carter piped up.
"Oui."
"Count me in too, Kommandant."
"Sgt Kinchloe can stay. It doesn't take four of you to take care of one man."
"Begging the Kommandant's pardon, sir." Newkirk spoke in a stage whisper. "You have no idea what our Colonel's like when he's sick. He's a regular bear. Leaving poor Kinch alone with him would be cruel and inhuman punishment."
"Mon Colonel will starve to death if you leave him with Kinch." LeBeau wrinkled his nose. "All he can cook is Spam."
"And someone has to protect the Colonel from the guards while he's sick." Carter tried to look serious. "You never know when Schultz is going to go crazy and start shooting everyone in sight."
"Me?" Schultz shook his head. "I would never shoot you boys."
"Schultz!" Klink sighed in resignation. "Alright, the four of you can stay. But only until his fever breaks – then all of you are back to your barracks before Hogan gets too comfortable here. He is not turning my guest quarters into his private residence."
"Kommandant…" Newkirk grinned. "Would our Colonel do something like that?"
"Yes, he would." Klink frowned at his sleeping prisoner. "Give him an inch and that troublemaker will take over the camp."
"Don't worry, sir." Kinch used his most reassuring tone. "None of us will give you any trouble."
"See that you don't or it'll be the cooler for all of you, including Hogan." Klink growled. He started for the door, then paused. "Schultz, take a few men and inspect Barracks 2 for tunnels."
"But Colonel Hogan was just rambling from the fever…." Schultz caught Klink's glare, hastily saluted. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."
Kinch waited until he heard the door close behind the Germans, then quickly examined Hogan.
"Well?" LeBeau crouched beside the bed. "How is he?"
"Klink did clean up some infected wounds. Looks like he changed the wrapping on his ribs too." Kinch felt Hogan's forehead. "He's got a fever, but the penicillin should take care of that. He should be ok if we can keep him in bed."
"It's going to take chains to do that." Newkirk stretched, felt some of the tension of the last few days slip away. "I can't wait until the governor's on his feet again and meets our charming Major Anders."
"I'm looking forward to that myself." Kinch administered a dose of penicillin as carefully as he could. He was amazed –and concerned – when Hogan slept through the shot. "Ok, guys, we're going to need some provisions if we're going to bunk here tonight."
"I'll make us a magnificent meal to celebrate mon Colonel's return." LeBeau slapped Carter's arm. "Come on, Andre. You can help me gather supplies."
"Ok." Carter cheerfully followed the Frenchman. He halted by the door. "Is it ok to go, Kinch?"
"I guess. Klink didn't say anything about you being here." Kinch shrugged. "Go on. Remember to bring some extra blankets."
"And some cards and a couple bottles of wine." Newkirk rubbed his hands as Carter and LeBeau left on their errand. "Everything's ok with the Colonel, Kinch?"
"I think so." Kinch buried Hogan in blankets and quietly took a seat by the bed.
"Good. Then you can find me soaking in the guest bathtub. Tell LeBeau to send in a bottle of wine as soon as he gets back. Nothing too fancy – an unassuming Chablis should be fine." Newkirk ignored Kinch's retort as he retreated.
* * * *
Kinch listened to the sounds of roll call, dimly aware that Klink no doubt expected to see the four of them outside. But the night had been a long one – full of cards, barely-fermented wine and arguments over whose turn it was to use the tub and who got to sleep on the couch. Their emotions had ricocheted throughout the evening between concern about the Colonel's fever and celebration of their reunion. He didn't have the heart to wake the three sleeping in the other room and he refused to leave the one sleeping on the bed beside him.
For the umpteenth time he laid his hand on Hogan's forehead. He was still too warm, despite three doses of penicillin since his return. The Colonel had woken periodically during the night, but had never stayed awake long. His location – whether in Poland, Moosburg, Stalag 13, London or Cleveland – had been his main interest. Hochstetter's location had also been uppermost on his mind. Once informed of those two bits of information, the officer tended to drift back to sleep.
Kinch yawned and slouched down in his chair. He could probably grab a few hours of sack time once the others were awake, but he was reluctant to leave his post. Hogan's incoherent mumbling was oddly comforting to him. It offered hope – not only that their commander was too stubborn to die, but that their operation would continue and their team would endure until the fall of the Third Reich.
Beyond that event, he refused to think. He hadn't really comprehended until Anders' arrival just how lousy it was going to feel to return to the restricted life he'd known in the States. Before Stalag 13, being treated differently because of his race had seemed an inescapable fact of life. But now – having tasted the forbidden fruit of equality – he didn't think he'd be so willing to return to his old skin once he returned home. There would have to be some changes in his country, of that he was certain.
He took a breath and forced the rebellious thoughts away. One war at a time, as Hogan was fond of saying. For the moment, keeping the Colonel alive, the operation afloat and his friends out of trouble was more than enough to occupy his thoughts.
Noise from the other room brought Kinch to his feet. Klink had obviously shown up to rant about roll call, but it didn't sound serious. Still, maybe he should…
"Kinch…"
"Here." Kinch returned to the bed as Hogan was struggling to sit up. "Easy. Everything's ok."
"Klink?"
"He's just letting off steam, Colonel. We missed roll call." Kinch easily restrained Hogan. "Lie back. You don't have to go anywhere."
Hogan mumbled in argument, but allowed himself to be pushed back onto the bed. "Stalag 13?"
"Right." Kinch chuckled softly. "Good job, sir. You got that on the first try."
"So hot." Hogan tugged at his shirt. "Open window."
"I don't think so." Kinch caught Hogan's hands, though he didn't appear to have the dexterity to open the shirt buttons. "It's February."
"Hot."
"I know, but…" Kinch turned as the door opened. "Kommandant."
Klink dismissed Kinch with a curt nod. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"
"Hot." Hogan wiped his brow with his sleeve. "Against Geneva Convention."
"You can file a report with the Red Cross." Klink felt Hogan's forehead. "You still have a fever. You need to rest."
"Need schnapps." Just a hint of the old charm had seeped back into Hogan's voice.
"Prisoners of war are forbidden to have alcohol, Colonel. You know that."
Klink's formal tone made Kinch look up, just as Anders brushed past Newkirk to enter the room.
"Colonel Robert Hogan." Klink gestured to the newcomer. "Major John Anders, acting senior POW."
Hogan shot a glance at Kinch, who quickly shook his head. He only hoped that the Colonel was recovered enough to be able to censor what he was saying. "Major."
"Colonel." Anders declined to shake the hand Hogan offered, nodded an acknowledgement instead. "I understand you've had a rough time lately. I hope you're feeling better."
"On my feet in no time." Hogan shot a hopeful glance at the window.
"Here, mon Colonel." LeBeau slid through the huddle of officers with a glass of water.
"Thanks." Hogan spilled most of the water on himself. He finally relented and allowed LeBeau to help him drink.
"There, Major – you see for yourself that Colonel Hogan is alive and cared for. Now if you don't mind… "Klink gestured to the door.
"I'd like to talk to him privately." Anders stared down Klink.
Klink sputtered a useless threat, then signaled Kinch to see him to the door.
"Kommandant?" Kinch grudgingly stepped onto the porch with Klink. "Is there a problem?"
"Give this to your Colonel when Anders is gone." Klink produced a small bottle of schnapps from his coat pocket. "It's for the pain."
"Thank you, sir." Kinch dropped the contraband into his pocket, snapped off a salute and hurried back inside.
"I've been ordered by London to destroy the ammo depot outside of town." Anders' voice was less than discreet. "I need your explosives man."
Kinch arrived at the bed in time to see the silent plea that Carter shot Hogan. The Colonel seemed to have caught the look, but seemed confused as to its interpretation.
"Carter's a little nervous about going out alone." Kinch prayed that Hogan was more together than he appeared.
Hogan glanced from defiant man to defiant man. "Carter's never worked solo, Major. You'll have to take Kinch and Newkirk with you."
"I have my own team, Colonel." Anders glowered at Hogan's men. "I just need Carter."
"Sorry." Hogan seemed to be concentrating on every word he said. "Matched set. All or nothing."
"If that's your policy, Colonel." Anders produced a half-hearted salute. "I'll get the details to your boy later."
"What?" Hogan turned to Kinch as the door slammed on Anders.
"Nothing, sir. I'll explain it all later." Kinch kept his tone neutral as he settled Hogan back in bed. "Take it easy while we find you some breakfast."
"Open window." Hogan mumbled as he closed his eyes and buried his face in his arms.
"Yes, sir." Kinch whispered as Hogan drifted off again. "In a month or so."
* * *
