No ownership of Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred here. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.
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Hogan's men had figured they'd better start manufacturing some sort of story for when this was all over and the Colonel actually agreed to have his injuries treated. Hochstetter's unprovoked onslaught gave them an easy opening, and they were hoping it would carry-- if they got Hogan back alive tonight. So they grumbled in no uncertain terms in front of Schultz about the bad mood that the senior POW was in, now that he was nursing a bad leg. Bad enough to be accused of espionage, they spouted. But to be abused on his own territory, and inflicted with the very injury that was supposed to be used to prove these allegations. It was an outrage!
The four looked at each other, miserable and frustrated, while behind his door they knew their commanding officer was preparing himself to head out. No one had been able to convince him to abandon the idea. And no one had managed to talk Hogan into taking him along. There was so little they could do to help. Making them even more unhappy was the fact that Hogan appeared to be so cheerful about it all. Humming. He was actually HUMMING!
On the other side of the door, Hogan was anything but lighthearted. Dressing in his blacks, his mind flashed back to the night before. It was all so close, and he could see it with crystal clarity. He put his hand up to his temple, gingerly fingered the bump that kept a constant drumbeat playing in his head. He said a silent prayer that his weak ankle would hold out just long enough for him to finish his work, and that the feverish glaze that interfered with his vision would back off. ~Time for a break,~ he thought tiredly. ~What I wouldn't give for a couple of weeks on a farm, with a girl and a warm bed.~ He comforted himself with the idea that this would be possible, someday, and forced himself to think positively about the long night ahead. So whenever a doubt crept into his mind, he hummed.
He'd kept off his feet as long as possible for the remainder of the day, hoping the rest would make it a bit easier to handle tonight. But his first real steps around were just as painful as when the injury was fresh-- or maybe he had just gotten used to it by ignoring it. In either case, he realised the five-mile hike --each way-- was going to be nearly as big a challenge as eluding the increasing patrols around the camp. Hogan thought of asking Kinch to radio ahead to see if there was a way to hitch a lift with a contact. But he dismissed the idea immediately, knowing that this admission of need would only worry the men under his command.
A sudden knock on the door made Hogan jump. "Colonel," came the Frenchman's voice. "Klink is coming!"
Hogan grabbed around for his robe, then thought better of it and quickly moved into bed, gathering the blankets around him. It was late-- Klink didn't usually perform bed checks this late. Hogan for once was grateful that his injuries had slowed his progress; he had fully expected to be gone by now. "What does he want?" was all Hogan growled, hoping that the commandant was already inside the barracks.
He was rewarded with the singsong voice of the camp officer. "Hogan, are you in there?"
"Where else would I be at this time of night?" He waited for the door to open. When it did, he saw Klink being shadowed by Le Beau and Newkirk, with Carter practically jumping up and down behind them. Gonna have to talk to Carter about giving himself away.
"Just doing a bed check, Hogan," said Klink. Inside, Klink was relieved to see Hogan there glaring at him. "After all, this is a camp for prisoners of war, and I must run a tight ship." ~There, Hochstetter, there is your spy!~ scoffed Klink. ~Tucked up nice and warm in his bed!~ "How are you feeling this evening, Hogan?"
"Well, now that you mention it, Kommandant, one of my legs is a bit stiff, thanks to your esteemed visitor this morning."
"Yes, well, I must say I didn't agree with that, Hogan," admitted Klink. "But I thought you handled it very well."
"Why, thank you, Kommandant, that means a lot coming from a man like you," Hogan said, managing to sound sincere. His own men smirked but remained silent. What the heck, Hogan thought-- he almost meant it. He knew deep down Klink hated his job, almost as much as Klink hated having to play second fiddle to some maniacal people whom he had to call fellow countrymen. "There IS one thing you could do to help make up for the humiliation, sir," he continued.
"What is that, Colonel Hogan?"
"Could you tuck me in?" He held out the edge of the blanket to Klink. "And," he pointed a finger behind him, "I've got this itch, right ---"
"Hogannnnn," warned Klink. And, his mood restored to where Hogan wanted it for the moment, Klink turned on his heel with a curt "Good night, gentlemen," and exited the barracks.
Hogan swung himself back out of bed and stood up. The men were gathered in the doorway. "Okay, looks like it's safe now. Klink must have been nervous after the visit from our friends this morning. I'd say we've satisfied him." The men parted as he left the room. "I'd better get a move on. Big night ahead."
"Uh, Colonel," started Kinch. "Call came through from the London. They want you to meet up with Little Red Riding Hood at the checkpoint, where you will be taken to your contacts."
"Why the run-around?" asked Hogan, immediately suspicious. "I need to get to Hansel and Gretel at the agreed rendezvous."
"I don't know, Colonel. Something about concern over increased troop activities in the area. They said it would better if even you don't know everything."
Hogan frowned. "I don't like the sound of that. But orders are orders. And YOURS are to make sure you stay here tonight like good little spies." He headed toward the entrance to the tunnel. "I'll be back for roll call."
"Good luck, Colonel," offered Carter.
"I won't need luck, Carter. I've got half your supply of charges tied around my waist. I'll just need a nice, smooth ride." And Hogan disappeared from sight.
Kinch breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that was easier than I thought," he said, when he was sure Colonel Hogan was out of hearing range.
"That was a good idea, Kinch--getting him to think it was London's idea to have a car there," said Newkirk.
"I wasn't sure it would work. They agreed with the Colonel that it still had to be him that went out tonight. But at least they let us get him some help."
"That was brilliant, Kinch," praised Le Beau. "Now let us hope the Colonel will be able to carry it all off."
"I'll see that he does," agreed Newkirk, taking off his pajamas to reveal his blacks. "I'll be at rendezvous in an hour."
"Remember what I said, Peter," warned Carter. "Pick the right charges."
"Don't worry, Andrew my boy," smiled Newkirk. "Piece of cake." He patted the items he had hidden under his clothes.
"The Colonel will be furious," worried Le Beau. "His orders were to stay behind. But one cannot let a friend walk blindly into danger with no help."
"Hopefully, Le Beau," said Newkirk, "Colonel 'Ogan will never need to know."
"We'll give him a five minute head start, then you'd better be on your way," said Kinch.
"Watch for the patrols," added Carter. "They're bound to have increased them after Hochstetter's men blew it with the Colonel last night."
"Don't worry, I've got it under control," said Newkirk. "Colonel Hogan's meeting the car to get to the rendezvous. I'll go straight there--might even make it before him."
"Don't play hero," said Le Beau. "When you know everything is okay and the Colonel is safe, lay the charges and get back here. We would not be able to explain your absence if the Colonel comes back, and you've been captured by the SS when you were supposed to be here."
Newkirk appreciated the concern of his friend, disguised by scolding. He smiled and took a playful swipe at Le Beau's head. "Trust me; this is one time when I'd like nothing better than to be shivering in my drafty bed. But I was supposed to go with the gov'nor tonight and I'll be a monkey's uncle if he's going to risk it alone in his condition. Whether he knows it or not!"
And with that, Newkirk dirtied his face, and headed out after Hogan.
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Hogan's men had figured they'd better start manufacturing some sort of story for when this was all over and the Colonel actually agreed to have his injuries treated. Hochstetter's unprovoked onslaught gave them an easy opening, and they were hoping it would carry-- if they got Hogan back alive tonight. So they grumbled in no uncertain terms in front of Schultz about the bad mood that the senior POW was in, now that he was nursing a bad leg. Bad enough to be accused of espionage, they spouted. But to be abused on his own territory, and inflicted with the very injury that was supposed to be used to prove these allegations. It was an outrage!
The four looked at each other, miserable and frustrated, while behind his door they knew their commanding officer was preparing himself to head out. No one had been able to convince him to abandon the idea. And no one had managed to talk Hogan into taking him along. There was so little they could do to help. Making them even more unhappy was the fact that Hogan appeared to be so cheerful about it all. Humming. He was actually HUMMING!
On the other side of the door, Hogan was anything but lighthearted. Dressing in his blacks, his mind flashed back to the night before. It was all so close, and he could see it with crystal clarity. He put his hand up to his temple, gingerly fingered the bump that kept a constant drumbeat playing in his head. He said a silent prayer that his weak ankle would hold out just long enough for him to finish his work, and that the feverish glaze that interfered with his vision would back off. ~Time for a break,~ he thought tiredly. ~What I wouldn't give for a couple of weeks on a farm, with a girl and a warm bed.~ He comforted himself with the idea that this would be possible, someday, and forced himself to think positively about the long night ahead. So whenever a doubt crept into his mind, he hummed.
He'd kept off his feet as long as possible for the remainder of the day, hoping the rest would make it a bit easier to handle tonight. But his first real steps around were just as painful as when the injury was fresh-- or maybe he had just gotten used to it by ignoring it. In either case, he realised the five-mile hike --each way-- was going to be nearly as big a challenge as eluding the increasing patrols around the camp. Hogan thought of asking Kinch to radio ahead to see if there was a way to hitch a lift with a contact. But he dismissed the idea immediately, knowing that this admission of need would only worry the men under his command.
A sudden knock on the door made Hogan jump. "Colonel," came the Frenchman's voice. "Klink is coming!"
Hogan grabbed around for his robe, then thought better of it and quickly moved into bed, gathering the blankets around him. It was late-- Klink didn't usually perform bed checks this late. Hogan for once was grateful that his injuries had slowed his progress; he had fully expected to be gone by now. "What does he want?" was all Hogan growled, hoping that the commandant was already inside the barracks.
He was rewarded with the singsong voice of the camp officer. "Hogan, are you in there?"
"Where else would I be at this time of night?" He waited for the door to open. When it did, he saw Klink being shadowed by Le Beau and Newkirk, with Carter practically jumping up and down behind them. Gonna have to talk to Carter about giving himself away.
"Just doing a bed check, Hogan," said Klink. Inside, Klink was relieved to see Hogan there glaring at him. "After all, this is a camp for prisoners of war, and I must run a tight ship." ~There, Hochstetter, there is your spy!~ scoffed Klink. ~Tucked up nice and warm in his bed!~ "How are you feeling this evening, Hogan?"
"Well, now that you mention it, Kommandant, one of my legs is a bit stiff, thanks to your esteemed visitor this morning."
"Yes, well, I must say I didn't agree with that, Hogan," admitted Klink. "But I thought you handled it very well."
"Why, thank you, Kommandant, that means a lot coming from a man like you," Hogan said, managing to sound sincere. His own men smirked but remained silent. What the heck, Hogan thought-- he almost meant it. He knew deep down Klink hated his job, almost as much as Klink hated having to play second fiddle to some maniacal people whom he had to call fellow countrymen. "There IS one thing you could do to help make up for the humiliation, sir," he continued.
"What is that, Colonel Hogan?"
"Could you tuck me in?" He held out the edge of the blanket to Klink. "And," he pointed a finger behind him, "I've got this itch, right ---"
"Hogannnnn," warned Klink. And, his mood restored to where Hogan wanted it for the moment, Klink turned on his heel with a curt "Good night, gentlemen," and exited the barracks.
Hogan swung himself back out of bed and stood up. The men were gathered in the doorway. "Okay, looks like it's safe now. Klink must have been nervous after the visit from our friends this morning. I'd say we've satisfied him." The men parted as he left the room. "I'd better get a move on. Big night ahead."
"Uh, Colonel," started Kinch. "Call came through from the London. They want you to meet up with Little Red Riding Hood at the checkpoint, where you will be taken to your contacts."
"Why the run-around?" asked Hogan, immediately suspicious. "I need to get to Hansel and Gretel at the agreed rendezvous."
"I don't know, Colonel. Something about concern over increased troop activities in the area. They said it would better if even you don't know everything."
Hogan frowned. "I don't like the sound of that. But orders are orders. And YOURS are to make sure you stay here tonight like good little spies." He headed toward the entrance to the tunnel. "I'll be back for roll call."
"Good luck, Colonel," offered Carter.
"I won't need luck, Carter. I've got half your supply of charges tied around my waist. I'll just need a nice, smooth ride." And Hogan disappeared from sight.
Kinch breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that was easier than I thought," he said, when he was sure Colonel Hogan was out of hearing range.
"That was a good idea, Kinch--getting him to think it was London's idea to have a car there," said Newkirk.
"I wasn't sure it would work. They agreed with the Colonel that it still had to be him that went out tonight. But at least they let us get him some help."
"That was brilliant, Kinch," praised Le Beau. "Now let us hope the Colonel will be able to carry it all off."
"I'll see that he does," agreed Newkirk, taking off his pajamas to reveal his blacks. "I'll be at rendezvous in an hour."
"Remember what I said, Peter," warned Carter. "Pick the right charges."
"Don't worry, Andrew my boy," smiled Newkirk. "Piece of cake." He patted the items he had hidden under his clothes.
"The Colonel will be furious," worried Le Beau. "His orders were to stay behind. But one cannot let a friend walk blindly into danger with no help."
"Hopefully, Le Beau," said Newkirk, "Colonel 'Ogan will never need to know."
"We'll give him a five minute head start, then you'd better be on your way," said Kinch.
"Watch for the patrols," added Carter. "They're bound to have increased them after Hochstetter's men blew it with the Colonel last night."
"Don't worry, I've got it under control," said Newkirk. "Colonel Hogan's meeting the car to get to the rendezvous. I'll go straight there--might even make it before him."
"Don't play hero," said Le Beau. "When you know everything is okay and the Colonel is safe, lay the charges and get back here. We would not be able to explain your absence if the Colonel comes back, and you've been captured by the SS when you were supposed to be here."
Newkirk appreciated the concern of his friend, disguised by scolding. He smiled and took a playful swipe at Le Beau's head. "Trust me; this is one time when I'd like nothing better than to be shivering in my drafty bed. But I was supposed to go with the gov'nor tonight and I'll be a monkey's uncle if he's going to risk it alone in his condition. Whether he knows it or not!"
And with that, Newkirk dirtied his face, and headed out after Hogan.
