No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.
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Midday rolled around and Hogan remained locked away in his quarters. His sole appearance had been for morning roll call, when he had made only superficial conversation with the others, never mentioning the outrageous proposition from London. There was no doubt in anyone's mind, though, that it was taking up all of Hogan's thoughts.
Le Beau decided that even thinking men had to eat, and so, plate of goodies as tempting as he could manage from their Red Cross packages in hand, he boldly knocked on Hogan's door.
"Come," he heard, and swallowing his fleeting doubt, he entered.
Hogan was sitting at his desk, brow furrowed, some papers scattered across it, others crumpled and tossed aside, a book perched on the edge, open to a page Le Beau couldn't make out. Hogan was writing furiously, concentrating. Le Beau waited.
"What is it?" Hogan asked, not stopping. When Le Beau didn't answer right away, Hogan paused and looked up. "Sorry, Louis, I wasn't paying attention," he said, putting his pencil down. "What can I do for you?"
Le Beau noticed that Hogan's face reflected what was becoming a regular tiredness and worry. Though he did his best to hide it, Hogan was feeling the burden of a command he had not asked for, and was now being forced to consider one he did not think was even plausible. But he was obviously resigned to making the best of it, which Le Beau appreciated more than almost anything else Hogan could do. "You must eat, Colonel. You skipped breakfast." He offered the plate.
Hogan smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Louis. Been too pre-occupied to eat."
Le Beau put the plate on the desk but Hogan did not touch it. Le Beau glanced at the book and realized it was the Bible. Hogan had circled a passage on its worn pages: For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and lose his own soul? "You are thinking about what London wants, Colonel," he guessed.
Hogan nodded, then looked back at the paperwork on his desk. "No matter how I dissect it, it just doesn't seem possible. It would have to involve too many people. There would be too many random factors, too many things out of our control. Too many people could get hurt. Or worse." He shook his head, frustrated.
Le Beau waited, experience telling him that if he said nothing, Hogan might continue.
"We'd have to make sure that Klink stayed in command—and he's not all that brilliant in the first place. But if it were going to have a chance at success, he'd be the key. I can get around him, wear him down, make him believe my stories…. But how do you keep a man so destined for the Russian front in power?—You keep this camp escape-free. And who wants to do that? The Escape Committee is full of fellas who would love to see the back of this place. And I can't say I blame them." Hogan sighed. Considering I'm one of them.
Le Beau just nodded.
"We'd need a much more sophisticated set-up than we have here. We'd need more tunnels; we'd need storage areas for ammunition and other supplies; we'd need more radio equipment; we'd need maps. We'd need to know enough German to be convincing if necessary. We'd need to know we have steady and reliable contact with the Underground. And with London. The list is endless," said Hogan, ticking off only a few of the factors he had considered. "And we'd need a good group of men willing to risk everything, often, to pull it all off. Traipsing in and out of the camp at will while keeping track of Germans… if a single one of us got caught in the act—or broke under questioning—we'd all be shot as spies. How could they ask people to join me in that?"
Le Beau considered for a moment. "It sounds like you are willing to do it yourself, Colonel."
Hogan stopped, surprised. "I…guess I am," he agreed. "God knows why. I'd like to get out of here as much as the next guy. But the chance to pay the Krauts back…I don't know, maybe it's too tempting."
Le Beau nodded understanding. "I don't think you would have trouble getting others to see it your way, Colonel," Le Beau said. "The men trust you."
"But trusting me doesn't mean they would want to stay here forever. How could we do it? I'm sure having Klink here is one of the keys. We have to protect him at all costs," Hogan mused, then snapped his fingers. "We could tell the men that the camp is about to become escape-proof, then offer them the chance to get out before it goes into effect."
"But won't that ruin Klink's record right away?" asked Le Beau.
"Not if we get them transferred to another Stalag first. They could get out of here, and escape from there. No one's the wiser. As for safety, we'd only tell people what they need to know. No one directly involved with an operation would know anything except that the rule is 'No Escapes.' Any newcomers who wander in would have the choice to either be involved…or transferred."
"That light is shining in your eyes again, Colonel," Le Beau said, pleased.
Hogan grinned. "Scary, isn't it?"
"It is good to see. I was starting to worry about you." Le Beau pointed to the plate. "Now eat." Hogan sighed dramatically and picked up a sandwich. "Colonel Hogan, if you decide to do this, I will stay with you."
Hogan stopped chewing and considered Le Beau. The Frenchman had never been one of many words, but Hogan had always sensed and appreciated a support and friendship from the man. This declaration of comradeship would not have been easily given. Hogan nodded respectfully. "It would mean you couldn't go back to France," Hogan reminded him gently. "I thought that's what you wanted."
"I can go back there when we are all free." Le Beau shrugged. "And if I change my mind, you can always have me transferred, non?" Hogan nodded. "Then I will work for you, Colonel. One man in France cannot change the world, but if one Frenchman working with others can help end the war sooner, then you can depend on me."
"I don't doubt it for a second, Le Beau." Hogan held out a hand, which Le Beau gripped tightly. "Thanks."
"Eat," Le Beau suddenly ordered again, retracting his hand, hoping the physical movement would cover the emotions he was feeling starting to overcome him. Had he really just volunteered to stay here for as long as it took?
"Okay, okay, I'll eat," Hogan said lightly. "Then I'll burn all these notes. That's the first thing we're going to have to learn—how to cover our tracks. Tell Newkirk to make sure the stove is burning bright."
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"I just can't believe he's considering it!" Newkirk remarked a little while later, as Le Beau related his conversation with Hogan.
"He thinks we may be able to make a difference to the war effort. It is a way to help, isn't it?" Le Beau asked.
"But from here?" Newkirk asked, gesturing as he watched men crossing the compound in the cold sun.
"Oui, where better to defeat them than in their midst?" Le Beau countered.
"It's insane," Newkirk said.
"C'est possible," Le Beau conceded. "But if he says yes, mon ami, then I am with him." He shrugged. "He has already accomplished what we thought was impossible."
"You can say that again," Kinch agreed. "That tunnel is unbelievable. I keep walking the length of it just to make sure it's real. And the radio—well, it sure wasn't going to happen if he hadn't come back in. And gotten Schnitzer back on Klink's good side."
"Sure, but what about escaping? Who hasn't dreamed of getting out of here?" Newkirk argued.
"We all have, Peter," Kinch said. "But this is a chance to keep fighting, too… and to make it more personal." He nodded at the others. "I'm game," he said.
"Me, too," Le Beau added.
They both looked at Newkirk. The RAF man shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not rushing into any decisions," he said.
"I'm sure the Colonel would not want you to," said Le Beau. "Of course, you might like Stalag 5 better than you like it here, if you decide not to help."
"I just might, at that. I'll let you know when I decide."