No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred here. Ownership belongs to someone else and no infringement is intended.
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Watching the building from a distance, Le Beau felt like a lion in a cage. He should be in there helping. How long was this going to take? Hadn't Newkirk been in there too long? He glanced down around the corner where Kinch and Carter were waiting in the truck they had come in, ready to follow any vehicle that would return Colonel Hogan to them. He looked nervously at his watch. 1:40. Four minutes since he last checked. Newkirk had been in there for over an hour; the Colonel about two and a half hours. Le Beau worried; he knew what damage the Gestapo could inflict in such a short time, and he wondered if he would be seeing his commanding officer and his bunkmate alive again soon.
~~Stop that,~~ he chided himself. ~~You always imagine the worst, and it never happens.~~ He kept his eyes firmly on the door, which stubbornly did not open. ~~But what if it happens this time?~~
He slapped his upper arms to warm them up. The night had turned into a cold, miserable reminder that they could be safe and warm somewhere else, if they had not pledged to work for the Allies in this way. There was a single flash of headlights from the truck around the corner. Kinch and Carter must also be getting nervous, Le Beau surmised. He made an exaggerated shrug, to communicate that nothing had changed, and turned his attention back to the imposing building that contained two of the people he held most dear.
Then, just as suddenly as there had been nothing to do, there was a flurry of activity at the Gestapo building. Le Beau drew himself up, watching carefully, trying to see everything. The front door opened, and Newkirk stepped out, gesturing madly at someone inside the building and barking orders in German that Le Beau could not hear clearly. Then another man came out, a solider, carrying the end of a blanket-covered figure Le Beau could only conclude was Colonel Hogan. The rest of the stretcher emerged, and another soldier with it. Newkirk was loudly and angrily overseeing the proceedings.
A truck pulled up to the front of the building. Le Beau signaled wildly to Kinch and Carter, who slowly brought their vehicle further up the street. Le Beau turned and watched as the truck's back doors were opened, and the soldiers hoisted their load inside. So, Newkirk had succeeded. Le Beau half smiled to himself. ~~Crazy Englishman,~~ he thought. ~~At least now le Colonel has a chance.~~
But his relief turned to confusion when he saw Newkirk climbing inside the back of the truck as well, and gesturing to the soldiers to ride up front. The plan had been that Newkirk come back to them, and an Underground agent help when they got to the remote hospital with diversion to get Hogan away. "What on earth are you doing?" Le Beau said under his breath. "We do not want to have to rescue two!"
Le Beau saw Newkirk lean attentively over the inert form on the floor of the truck, then accept one of the Germans into the vehicle with him, while the other moved to the cab. He shook his head, fear piling on top of worry, and hurried to join Kinch and Carter for the trip to the hospital nestled on the very edge of the city. The games were about to begin.
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Newkirk sighed almost audibly as he helped the young patrol officer into the truck. He had succeeded in getting the men to allow him to ride with Hogan, a last-minute change of plans prompted by Newkirk's belief that the Colonel would not be able to flee the truck on his own. He hoped Carter, Le Beau, and Kinch would be able to adapt. Now if only he could adapt as well-he had not really expected the guard to ride with him. But his persuasiveness at the use of Hochstetter's name only went so far, and Newkirk noticed in one soldier's case it actually increased his interest in the proceedings.
"You will drive very slowly, do you understand?" he growled at the driver. "You will take a steady, smooth route to the hospital facility on the outskirts of the city. They will have the best care for this man there. No excuses, Corporal!"
"Jawohl, Herr Captain."
Newkirk sat back beside Hogan as the doors were shut. The soldier remaining with him sat on a bench against the wall of the truck. "Here, Herr Captain-it is more comfortable up here," he offered. "The ride is long."
Newkirk wanted to slap the young man. He looked at Hogan, still and pale on the stretcher on the floor. "Let us just hope it is not too long for this man. I will stay here and look after him, instead of relaxing, thank you," he snapped.
The Corporal gave Newkirk a "suit yourself" look, and rested his back against the wall for the journey. Newkirk watched Hogan for any signs of distress. The Colonel had made few sounds and no movements since they had transferred him to the stretcher. Newkirk had nearly wept as he helped with that task; he knew every time someone handled Hogan they were inflicting more pain on his commanding officer. If he had had any doubts, they had been dispelled by the desperate sounds escaping from Hogan's mouth. ~~Like a nightmare that's real~~ Newkirk thought at the time. ~~You wake up but it won't go away.~~ Each time he antagonized Hogan's beaten body, Newkirk flinched and then vowed to make it up to him. He wasn't sure how, but he knew that this man, who had so many times put his life on the line for his men, was not going to suffer like this again. Not at his hands. And not at the Germans' hands either. Never again.
For the moment Hogan seemed at rest. Twice they had questioned him. Twice they had gotten no information. Newkirk wondered if he would be able to do that. Then, shuddering at the mere thought of the scenario that had led to the condition of his commander, Newkirk forced the thoughts aside and adjusted the light blanket on Hogan's feverish body.
"This one is more valuable than they know in there," said the soldier. Newkirk paused at this confidence. He looked at the soldier, who was nodding knowingly. A bit like the cat that swallowed the cream, thought Newkirk.
"Why is that?" he asked in his curtest German, worried. He glanced at Hogan, who seemed to be showing signs of returning to consciousness. ~~Not now!~~
"This man is a Prisoner of War at LuftStalag 13," answered the guard. "Corporal Janssen, our driver, confided to me that he saw this man when he visited the camp with Major Hochstetter yesterday. He is a Colonel, his name is Hogan, I believe. He is suspected of running an underground organization."
Newkirk went cold inside. "So why is it that the Corporal has not told anyone about this?" he asked, stonily. He had had only fleeting contact with the driver, and knew that if the man had recognized him from the barracks yesterday it would be all over for both him and Hogan.
The young guard laughed, relaxing. "Well, if you knew Janssen like I do, Herr Captain... well, he wants to get a promotion out of this one, I think. He plans to tell Major Hochstetter once the Colonel is in hospital. Drive the Major there himself, like a cat giving the gift of a mouse to its master." The man laughed heartily at his analogy; Newkirk had to swallow the bad taste that came into his mouth.
Newkirk heard a low sound from the stretcher beside him. He looked and saw Hogan's eyes fluttering slightly. Newkirk couldn't think of a worse time. He placed a hand gently on Hogan's shoulder. "Herr Colonel?" Newkirk said, hoping to get through to Hogan that he was not free to speak his mind. "Are you Colonel Hogan?"
Hogan's eyes opened, but stayed unfocused. Newkirk studied his superior carefully. "Herr Colonel, is it?" he repeated. Hogan's eyes shifted to meet Newkirk's stare. "My fellow soldier here says that you are a saboteur from the LuftStalag 13. Is that right?" Newkirk tried with all his might for his eyes to relay a whole plan of action to Hogan. ~~Don't answer, gov'nor. Don't say you know me.~~
Hogan blinked, his expression not revealing whether he understood what Newkirk was trying to say, or even if he understood that words had been spoken. Newkirk hoped his message had gotten across. "He is unresponsive. You will have to wait until he is in hospital to hope to get something from him," he said simply.
He turned fully away from the soldier, and kept watch on Hogan. Now his eyes were surveying the inside of the truck, paused once on the seated, armed soldier, and then came to rest of Newkirk. He opened his mouth to speak, but only cracked, unformed sounds came out. "Rest, mein Herr Colonel," Newkirk said. Hogan's expression changed to one of confusion. "You are to be treated according to the Geneva Convention."
Hogan tried again. "I-need to get-"
The effort was great and painful, and he didn't get much farther before Newkirk started speaking to him in German. ~~C'mon, gov'nor, try to understand what's going on here!~~
Hogan stopped. "Please," he simply whispered. "Help me." He closed his eyes. Newkirk knew he was in pain but could not help. The Corporal was hopeful, though, that Hogan had understood what Newkirk was trying to do. Asking for help was not part of Hogan's standard operating procedure. ~~Or maybe you just really need it.~~
"He will get everything WE need when Major Hochstetter finds out about him," the young soldier said with a snort. He sat back and closed his eyes. Long trip. No point in wasting the night.
Newkirk glared at him. ~~Bloody idiot. How long is this ride?~~ He felt a slight tug on his sleeve and looked down to see Hogan's hand under his arm. Hogan's eyes were open and darting back and forth between Newkirk and the German. He squeezed the arm and Newkirk came down close to his face. "There's a plan?" Hogan croaked softly.
"Aye, gov'nor," whispered Newkirk. Hogan nodded, then closed his eyes. "Rest, mate, you're going to need your strength for this one." Without opening his eyes, Hogan raised an eyebrow. Newkirk grinned. Papa Bear was coming back.
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Watching the building from a distance, Le Beau felt like a lion in a cage. He should be in there helping. How long was this going to take? Hadn't Newkirk been in there too long? He glanced down around the corner where Kinch and Carter were waiting in the truck they had come in, ready to follow any vehicle that would return Colonel Hogan to them. He looked nervously at his watch. 1:40. Four minutes since he last checked. Newkirk had been in there for over an hour; the Colonel about two and a half hours. Le Beau worried; he knew what damage the Gestapo could inflict in such a short time, and he wondered if he would be seeing his commanding officer and his bunkmate alive again soon.
~~Stop that,~~ he chided himself. ~~You always imagine the worst, and it never happens.~~ He kept his eyes firmly on the door, which stubbornly did not open. ~~But what if it happens this time?~~
He slapped his upper arms to warm them up. The night had turned into a cold, miserable reminder that they could be safe and warm somewhere else, if they had not pledged to work for the Allies in this way. There was a single flash of headlights from the truck around the corner. Kinch and Carter must also be getting nervous, Le Beau surmised. He made an exaggerated shrug, to communicate that nothing had changed, and turned his attention back to the imposing building that contained two of the people he held most dear.
Then, just as suddenly as there had been nothing to do, there was a flurry of activity at the Gestapo building. Le Beau drew himself up, watching carefully, trying to see everything. The front door opened, and Newkirk stepped out, gesturing madly at someone inside the building and barking orders in German that Le Beau could not hear clearly. Then another man came out, a solider, carrying the end of a blanket-covered figure Le Beau could only conclude was Colonel Hogan. The rest of the stretcher emerged, and another soldier with it. Newkirk was loudly and angrily overseeing the proceedings.
A truck pulled up to the front of the building. Le Beau signaled wildly to Kinch and Carter, who slowly brought their vehicle further up the street. Le Beau turned and watched as the truck's back doors were opened, and the soldiers hoisted their load inside. So, Newkirk had succeeded. Le Beau half smiled to himself. ~~Crazy Englishman,~~ he thought. ~~At least now le Colonel has a chance.~~
But his relief turned to confusion when he saw Newkirk climbing inside the back of the truck as well, and gesturing to the soldiers to ride up front. The plan had been that Newkirk come back to them, and an Underground agent help when they got to the remote hospital with diversion to get Hogan away. "What on earth are you doing?" Le Beau said under his breath. "We do not want to have to rescue two!"
Le Beau saw Newkirk lean attentively over the inert form on the floor of the truck, then accept one of the Germans into the vehicle with him, while the other moved to the cab. He shook his head, fear piling on top of worry, and hurried to join Kinch and Carter for the trip to the hospital nestled on the very edge of the city. The games were about to begin.
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Newkirk sighed almost audibly as he helped the young patrol officer into the truck. He had succeeded in getting the men to allow him to ride with Hogan, a last-minute change of plans prompted by Newkirk's belief that the Colonel would not be able to flee the truck on his own. He hoped Carter, Le Beau, and Kinch would be able to adapt. Now if only he could adapt as well-he had not really expected the guard to ride with him. But his persuasiveness at the use of Hochstetter's name only went so far, and Newkirk noticed in one soldier's case it actually increased his interest in the proceedings.
"You will drive very slowly, do you understand?" he growled at the driver. "You will take a steady, smooth route to the hospital facility on the outskirts of the city. They will have the best care for this man there. No excuses, Corporal!"
"Jawohl, Herr Captain."
Newkirk sat back beside Hogan as the doors were shut. The soldier remaining with him sat on a bench against the wall of the truck. "Here, Herr Captain-it is more comfortable up here," he offered. "The ride is long."
Newkirk wanted to slap the young man. He looked at Hogan, still and pale on the stretcher on the floor. "Let us just hope it is not too long for this man. I will stay here and look after him, instead of relaxing, thank you," he snapped.
The Corporal gave Newkirk a "suit yourself" look, and rested his back against the wall for the journey. Newkirk watched Hogan for any signs of distress. The Colonel had made few sounds and no movements since they had transferred him to the stretcher. Newkirk had nearly wept as he helped with that task; he knew every time someone handled Hogan they were inflicting more pain on his commanding officer. If he had had any doubts, they had been dispelled by the desperate sounds escaping from Hogan's mouth. ~~Like a nightmare that's real~~ Newkirk thought at the time. ~~You wake up but it won't go away.~~ Each time he antagonized Hogan's beaten body, Newkirk flinched and then vowed to make it up to him. He wasn't sure how, but he knew that this man, who had so many times put his life on the line for his men, was not going to suffer like this again. Not at his hands. And not at the Germans' hands either. Never again.
For the moment Hogan seemed at rest. Twice they had questioned him. Twice they had gotten no information. Newkirk wondered if he would be able to do that. Then, shuddering at the mere thought of the scenario that had led to the condition of his commander, Newkirk forced the thoughts aside and adjusted the light blanket on Hogan's feverish body.
"This one is more valuable than they know in there," said the soldier. Newkirk paused at this confidence. He looked at the soldier, who was nodding knowingly. A bit like the cat that swallowed the cream, thought Newkirk.
"Why is that?" he asked in his curtest German, worried. He glanced at Hogan, who seemed to be showing signs of returning to consciousness. ~~Not now!~~
"This man is a Prisoner of War at LuftStalag 13," answered the guard. "Corporal Janssen, our driver, confided to me that he saw this man when he visited the camp with Major Hochstetter yesterday. He is a Colonel, his name is Hogan, I believe. He is suspected of running an underground organization."
Newkirk went cold inside. "So why is it that the Corporal has not told anyone about this?" he asked, stonily. He had had only fleeting contact with the driver, and knew that if the man had recognized him from the barracks yesterday it would be all over for both him and Hogan.
The young guard laughed, relaxing. "Well, if you knew Janssen like I do, Herr Captain... well, he wants to get a promotion out of this one, I think. He plans to tell Major Hochstetter once the Colonel is in hospital. Drive the Major there himself, like a cat giving the gift of a mouse to its master." The man laughed heartily at his analogy; Newkirk had to swallow the bad taste that came into his mouth.
Newkirk heard a low sound from the stretcher beside him. He looked and saw Hogan's eyes fluttering slightly. Newkirk couldn't think of a worse time. He placed a hand gently on Hogan's shoulder. "Herr Colonel?" Newkirk said, hoping to get through to Hogan that he was not free to speak his mind. "Are you Colonel Hogan?"
Hogan's eyes opened, but stayed unfocused. Newkirk studied his superior carefully. "Herr Colonel, is it?" he repeated. Hogan's eyes shifted to meet Newkirk's stare. "My fellow soldier here says that you are a saboteur from the LuftStalag 13. Is that right?" Newkirk tried with all his might for his eyes to relay a whole plan of action to Hogan. ~~Don't answer, gov'nor. Don't say you know me.~~
Hogan blinked, his expression not revealing whether he understood what Newkirk was trying to say, or even if he understood that words had been spoken. Newkirk hoped his message had gotten across. "He is unresponsive. You will have to wait until he is in hospital to hope to get something from him," he said simply.
He turned fully away from the soldier, and kept watch on Hogan. Now his eyes were surveying the inside of the truck, paused once on the seated, armed soldier, and then came to rest of Newkirk. He opened his mouth to speak, but only cracked, unformed sounds came out. "Rest, mein Herr Colonel," Newkirk said. Hogan's expression changed to one of confusion. "You are to be treated according to the Geneva Convention."
Hogan tried again. "I-need to get-"
The effort was great and painful, and he didn't get much farther before Newkirk started speaking to him in German. ~~C'mon, gov'nor, try to understand what's going on here!~~
Hogan stopped. "Please," he simply whispered. "Help me." He closed his eyes. Newkirk knew he was in pain but could not help. The Corporal was hopeful, though, that Hogan had understood what Newkirk was trying to do. Asking for help was not part of Hogan's standard operating procedure. ~~Or maybe you just really need it.~~
"He will get everything WE need when Major Hochstetter finds out about him," the young soldier said with a snort. He sat back and closed his eyes. Long trip. No point in wasting the night.
Newkirk glared at him. ~~Bloody idiot. How long is this ride?~~ He felt a slight tug on his sleeve and looked down to see Hogan's hand under his arm. Hogan's eyes were open and darting back and forth between Newkirk and the German. He squeezed the arm and Newkirk came down close to his face. "There's a plan?" Hogan croaked softly.
"Aye, gov'nor," whispered Newkirk. Hogan nodded, then closed his eyes. "Rest, mate, you're going to need your strength for this one." Without opening his eyes, Hogan raised an eyebrow. Newkirk grinned. Papa Bear was coming back.
