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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"It's not just an honor for you, Kommandant," Hogan was saying about ninety minutes later. "When someone says that Kommandant Klink runs the best POW camp in all of Germany, that's something that all the men are proud of."
"That's very commendable of you, Hogan. But I really don't have time to discuss how the men will be affected at the moment." Klink tried to wave Hogan away, but the American Colonel was leaning very close to him as he sat at his desk, and for some reason Klink couldn't turn his head away from the man. Something in the concept was appealing: show the visiting brass that Klink commanded the respect and the good wishes of his charges, as well as his own subordinates.
"Very well, sir, but Le Beau will be offended; he's already started planning a menu to throw out your diet for…." Hogan stood up, grateful for the relief to his still-sore torso. "Still," he sighed, resigned and turning toward the door, "I understand that some things are even more important than trying to butter up some General who has the ear of the Fuhrer and could get you that promotion you've been itching for."
Suddenly Hogan couldn't get another step further. Klink had sprung up from his desk and was blocking his way. "What do you mean by that, Hogan? How could this happen?"
"Well, sir, you're going to have some VIPs here; if you make a good impression on them, it's bound to get back to old Bubble Head—" Klink shot Hogan a shocked look. Reconsidering his wording, Hogan amended, "—uh, you know, the small guy with the moustache. That, along with your inspiring record as camp Kommandant, would only naturally lead to bigger and better things."
"You think so?" Klink asked, quite happily willing to be led along this particular garden path.
"Oh, and it's no more than you deserve, sir," Hogan said, toying with his crush cap in his hands. "But you're busy, and I certainly can admire and respect a man who puts dedication before any personal gain." He tried to get past Klink to the door. "I'll tell Le Beau to forget about it, sir."
Klink blocked Hogan's way. "Now, Hogan, don't be so hasty. Perhaps I was a bit short with you." Klink smiled what was supposed to be one of his most charming smiles. Hogan felt his stomach turn. "I was merely distracted by the monumental preparations required for tomorrow. After all, General Werden is a very important man, and it is my responsibility to make sure he and his men are well treated. But that is all secondary, of course, to my duties as Kommandant of this camp, and if the men would feel slighted if I did not let them participate, then it falls to me as their commander—and morale officer, if you will—to do something about it. Of course Le Beau may make us a marvelous meal tomorrow night. I will direct Schultz to see that he has everything he needs."
Hogan pasted a grateful smile on his face and tried not to let his eyes roll toward the ceiling. "That's very noble of you, sir. The men will be so thankful." He placed his cap on his head. "I'll go tell Le Beau now. Oh—and some of the men have volunteered to be waiters as well."
"Really?" Klink asked.
"Oh, yes, sir. The chance to be in the same room with someone so close to the Fuhrer… well, sir, I can't even tell you how it makes them feel."
"I know what you mean," Klink admitted. He frowned, his nerves starting to play up. He went back to his desk and sat down. "But right now it makes me feel sick to my stomach."
"Now I know how you feel, Colonel Klink," Hogan responded. And with a loose salute, he left the office.
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"So you're willing to go along with the plan?"
"Oui, Colonel Hogan. If you think it is best, I will do it," Tiger answered that evening, sitting on Hogan's bunk while he explained his idea.
Le Beau came in and handed her a cup of hot tea. She smiled at him, and he blushed, then seemed to forget how to walk. Hogan paused in his explanation and stared at the Frenchman. The Corporal didn't notice. "Le Beau," Hogan finally said. Le Beau, startled, tore his eyes away from Tiger and looked at his senior officer. "Out."
"Oui. Sorry, mon Colonel."
Tiger smiled again. "Your men are very kind."
"Yeah. But I'd hate for you to get caught in a Tunnel of Love with one of them," Hogan said with a chuckle. "They'd love it, though."
"It would be much preferred to what you are asking of me now," she replied quietly.
Hogan came and sat beside her. "I know it's a lot to ask," he said in a low voice. "First sign of danger and we'll whisk you out of there before you can blink. But I can't think of any other way that we'll get inside that tank before we sabotage it and the others without getting shot. At least you'd have some time in there without being suspected of anything more devious than a bit of womanly wiles. You get the pictures, we get you out. That's it."
Tiger nodded, looking at the dark circles under his eyes. "I will do it."
"Good," Hogan said. "All I have to do is get the Krauts to play along."
"You will," Tiger reassured him. She paused, regarding this man who never seemed to give up, who always seemed to be in control. And she wondered what he did when he felt doubt. Or did he never feel it? "You are recovering?" she asked gently.
"In top form now," Hogan said heartily.
You are lying, Tiger thought. Your eyes are bright with pain. "It will be hard work for you and your men, too," she said. "And dangerous."
"Unfortunately we didn't buy seats in the balcony," Hogan quipped. "We're right onstage." He turned to her, serious. "And this time, you'll be the soloist." Tiger nodded. Hogan took her hands from her lap and pressed them in his. "We'll keep you safe. I promise."
Tiger smiled at Hogan. "I trust you, Colonel Hogan," she said. Now you must learn to trust yourself.
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Get him out…Get him out now!... Please, please, Colonel Hogan, stay calm, we are trying to help you…. You are safe, Colonel. We will look after this for you. Please. Please try to hear me…. Hogan tossed, moaning, in his bed, as memories flooded through his dreams, turning into nightmares.
~What's that tank doing here?~ Hogan turned toward the thunderous noise behind him, stumbling to the cover of the bushes, holding his bleeding chest. The Panzer tank came barreling through the woods, trampling everything in its path, and came to a stop a few feet from Hogan's hiding place.
"Wait!" Hogan cried, as Tiger emerged from nowhere, and a German officer gallantly helped her into the tank. Without so much as a fleeting glance in Hogan's direction, Tiger disappeared from sight. Hogan came out from his hiding place and shouted at the massive machinery impotently. "Tiger, where are you going? We were supposed to get you out of there! I promised you'd be safe!"
The tank started to pull away. Hogan screamed after it. "Tiger! Tiger, come back! Come back!" But his pleas went unheeded, and Hogan was left watching the tank retreat from sight, as pain overwhelmed him and he collapsed to the dirt.
Hogan woke up gasping, his breathing wild, his eyes wide. He sat up, putting a hand to his now throbbing wound, trying to collect himself as sweat dried on his face and on his back. It was a dream, he said to himself. We'll get her out. The same way she got me out. She'll be safe.
The stinging in his upper chest sent a chill through him, and he was so, so thirsty. But he didn't feel steady enough to go to the common room for some water. Damn that tunnel, he thought, as the idea of going to see Wilson crossed his mind, then disappeared; the passage to Barracks Five had not yet been completely cleared after the storms. He would just have to distract himself until the morning. How far off was that? Hogan leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes to focus on willing his mind away from the pain, and worked and reworked the only plan he could think of, until sheer exhaustion took over, and brought him blessed relief.