No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
"So, Corporal Le Beau tells me I am working for the Abwehr," Tiger said, as she stood facing Hogan in his quarters.
"I thought it would be the best way to make sure Hochstetter leaves you alone. Since he showed up before we expected him to, it seemed like a good idea to make sure if he does see you again, he'll be wary about approaching you."
"Always with the good ideas, Papa Bear," Tiger said. "It was most surprising that they were so willing to let me move about the camp freely once my new identity was discovered."
"The power of positive thinking, Juliet," Hogan said. He let a small smile cross his lips. "That and a bit of cold-hearted manipulation." Hogan held out a small parcel to Tiger. "Here. This is all your hard work and your risk." She took it from his hand and turned it over thoughtfully, then buried it in her clothing. "Thanks to you, those new Panzers may not have a chance. And our boys will."
Tiger took a moment to look carefully at Hogan. This man had always fascinated her. His willingness to constantly put his own life at risk was a mystery to her, even though she herself often did the same. Most men in a similar situation, coming to the camp in the way she had heard through the grapevine that he had, would have simply given up hope, or mentally collapsed, or laid down to die. Finding Hogan outside in the wet the other night, so ill, so fearful, and yet so unwilling to relinquish what he knew was vital information for the Allied war effort, had strengthened her own resolve. Even though fear that the darkness had won had flooded through her that night as she watched Hogan struggling to survive, she had responded readily when the Colonel called her back to help in a mission barely two days later. And she knew she would continue to do so, until the war ended, or she was dead.
Now, this same man who was responsible for the execution of this mission stood before her, obviously tired, obviously still hurting, and yet giving her the credit for a job well done. She wondered not for the first time what drove him, and felt a surge of protectiveness that she had not expected. And something else with it that was equally surprising.
"You have all done superb work," she said.
"Now take this stuff and get out of here," Hogan said. "I think Hochstetter's about to offer you his staff car. Either that or Burkhalter will beat him to it because he's so pleased about the idea of somebody getting the better of the Gestapo."
Tiger smiled. "You certainly know how to put a cat amongst the pigeons," she said.
"Yeah, and you're one pigeon I plan to let fly the coop."
Tiger suddenly felt dissatisfied with the way Hogan was responding. Had she not done everything she could to help? "Why do you say that?" she asked, her defenses rising.
Hogan raised his eyebrows. Put her in danger again? Not if he could help it. He owed her too much, had risked her too often. "I think we've provided quite enough thrills for you for one war," he said.
"What does that mean?" Tiger asked.
"It means I won't call you again unless we really need you," Hogan said.
"Anyone would think you are unhappy working with me!" Tiger accused, her eyes flashing.
"I am!" Hogan retorted, turning on her. Their eyes met in an angry moment, and all the fire went out of his as he mentally traced her face. "I am," he repeated quietly. He turned away. "Every time you work on a mission I'm afraid I'll never see you again. I don't want to be responsible for that. What happened the other night, and this mess with Hochstetter, just reinforced that." He studied the knots in the wood around his window. "If you were safe in London, at least I'd know there's a chance you'd be there—later."
Tiger was quiet for a moment, watching Hogan from behind. Her initial impression of this man had been correct: the temper was hiding the vulnerability; the commander was protecting the man. "Later," she repeated softly. "You mean, after the war?"
"Maybe," Hogan said. He clenched and unclenched his fists and followed a crack in the wood with his eyes from one end of the timber to the other.
"And what about you?" Tiger prompted gently.
"What about me?" Hogan asked, resignedly.
"Don't you think that someone would like to have you safe in London, so you would be there after the war?" She waited. Hogan did not respond. "You put yourself in constant danger, stay behind when you could easily walk away, send others to safety but not yourself. And why do you do that?"
"Because it has to be done," Hogan responded shortly, whirling back to face her.
"And so that is what I do as well." Hogan stared at the floor. Tiger came to him, put her hand on his cheek. Hogan tried not to look at her but could not resist her powerful presence. "You want me safely tucked away, while you are here and in danger. Mon cher, I would rather be here taking risks with you, than worrying in a warm house across the English Channel." Hogan could not take his eyes from her. "If we are in London after the war, we will have gotten there together."
Those emotions that Hogan had routinely buried for months—years—suddenly came rushing through him, and he pulled Tiger into his arms. He shuddered as he felt himself become whole again; all his defenses were crumbling around him. How could he have operated without this awareness of his senses for so long? Warmth spread from Tiger's insistent body through to his own, from his lips to his fingertips, and to his newly beating heart. He closed his eyes, trying to experience this revelation with every part of his being. And as he did, he found himself drawing Tiger even closer, and she responded willingly to his desperate, liberated breaths.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Hogan abruptly pulled Tiger away from himself, straightened, and moved, disoriented, toward the window, absentmindedly rubbing his wounded chest. "Robert?" Tiger said softly.
But she knew. Smoothing out her clothing, she nodded silently as Hogan said in a husky voice, "I can't." He turned to her with pain in his eyes and shook his head, sadly. "I can't."
"I know, Robert," she said gently. "You must be single-minded." Hogan nodded numbly. "It is what makes you a fine leader." She came to him and laid a hand on his breastbone. Hogan felt himself shiver but did not move away. "And a lonely man." Hogan was avoiding her gaze. Tiger cupped his chin with her — oh, so soft! — hand, and their eyes met. "There will be London, Robert," she said, running her thumb lightly across his lips. He closed his eyes and released a shuddering breath, overwhelmed. "And there you shall be free again."
Holding his face tenderly, she kissed each of his closed eyes, then turned and walked out of his office.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
"Did you tell Tiger to make sure the driver doesn't follow the tanks?" Hogan asked as Hochstetter's staff car pulled out of the gate, carrying Tiger and the precious photos and information that the group had gathered for delivery to the Underground, who would get it to London.
"Yes, gov'nor," Newkirk replied, watching Burkhalter and Hochstetter arguing about traveling together in the General's car. Werden had left a few minutes earlier, leading his tanks on their way to France.
"Those tanks aren't going to make it very far," Carter said enthusiastically. "I give 'em ten more minutes. Then the little explosions will start, and the acid will burn right through that component underneath…and then everything will start to burn away… and then…BOOM!"
Hogan gave a slight start at Carter's sudden exclamation, then closed his eyes. He was starting to feel a tiredness that he had done well to ignore for most of the day, and wanted some peaceful time to pull apart the mission, as he always did, to see what went right—and what could have gone better. With his wounds being given no respite for the day, he was painfully reminded of one part that could have gone better: his own. Hogan was disturbed by what he still considered to be his failure, and just as bothered by his weakness with Tiger. She was an agent—nothing more, nothing less. Someone to work with. Someone to use to fight the Nazis. I have to think that way, he said. I can't start protecting the Underground from their work, or we won't have an Underground to work with.
His thoughts still in a whirl, and feeling more pain than he wanted to handle in front of the others, Hogan turned to go back inside the Barracks. "Let me know if anything happens, okay?"
His men were left to look at each other, and wonder where their commander's mind was wandering.
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
"I wanted to let you know, Colonel Hogan, that your Corporal Le Beau will not be getting his extra ration of white bread," Klink said to the senior POW a couple of days later.
"Now, come on, Kommandant, that's not fair. I may not have been in favor of this project, but a deal's a deal—Le Beau did his part to make sure the photo shoot went well; it's your duty as a fair man to see that he gets what's coming to him!" Hogan argued. He knew full well why Klink was reneging on his part of the bargain. But there was no way he could tell Klink that.
"Now just a minute, Hogan. Before you start spouting the Geneva Convention at me, you may want to hear the reason why." Klink shook his head as he spoke, still amazed himself. "The new tanks are unusable. The photographs must be destroyed."
"What do you mean they're unusable?" Hogan scoffed. "A tank's a tank; they looked pretty usable while they were here."
"That's just it, Hogan; they were fine. But about fifteen minutes after they left Stalag 13, they started having mechanical problems. Then all of a sudden there were explosions—the tanks were not only failing, they were blowing up! General Werden was in his car in the lead; he was wounded. Thankfully, no one was killed—most of the soldiers had gotten out of the tanks to see what was wrong with them. General Werden said the men were telling him that everything just seemed to melt away." He shook his head again. "Those tanks can't go through Paris, Hogan; they can't even go through Hammelburg! The General says all the plans will have to be rethought. Obviously, there was a flaw in the new design that didn't get picked up until now."
Hogan stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That's a pretty big flaw, Colonel," Hogan admitted. "Of course I could have told you that would happen."
"Oh, could you, Colonel Hogan?" Klink asked cynically.
"Oh, sure," Hogan said. "The way you were flaunting it, it was bound to be a propaganda piece. You know how it is: the bigger they are, the harder they fall…."
"Hogan, that had nothing to do with it. These tanks were perfect fighting machines!" Klink insisted.
"So perfect that they fell apart as soon as they hit the slightest rough terrain," Hogan countered. "Teasing us with them here, making my men look at them—telling them it will be the way to end the war—in the Nazis' favor. That was above and beyond, Kommandant. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to hear about this."
Hogan turned to leave.
"Oh, Hogan," Klink detained him.
"Yes, sir?"
"You know that Juliet was actually working for Abwehr Intelligence."
Hogan feigned surprise. "Really?"
"That's why she was allowed to come and visit the Barracks on her own later on. She was quite insistent about seeing you. What did she want?"
"Oh, just to inspect the Barracks. And maybe to see if I was everything Burkhalter made me out to be when he was drunk," Hogan said, waving away the question.
"The bold, brave, handsome American officer, is that what you're trying to say, Hogan?" Klink asked.
Hogan let his mind run thoughtfully back to his encounter with Tiger. In his mind, he gazed on her face, felt her warm breath and the touch of her hand on his cheek, heard her comforting words. There will be London… and you will be free. He cleared his throat and said, "Well, it did take awhile to say good bye, Kommandant. After all, 'parting is such sweet sorrow.'"
And opening the door, Hogan walked out into the sun.