Summary: Grayson meets Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and of course, Carter!
Disclaimer: Comic characters belong to DC/Vertigo and Time/Warner, while Hogan's Heroes is owned by Paramount, Viacom and others; this is an original story that doesn't intend to infringe on their copyright. Feedback is welcome.
Copyright January 2004
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Nightwing/Hogan's Heroes: Blackhawk Down!
By Syl Francis
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(The present...)
Tuesday, May 30, 1944 (0200hrs, local)
Woods outside
Hammelburg, Germany
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As Grayson waited, crouched in the heavy German forest, he wondered not for the first time if his parents' deaths had indeed not been accidental, as Brand had implied. Since his meeting with the OSS operative, Grayson again mulled over Brand's words. He shook his head. It was just too painful to accept that his parents' deaths had been a deliberate act of murder.
He sighed, wishing he'd been able to talk out his suspicions with his stepfather and wondering yet again as to the coincidence of Bruce Wayne's presence at the very performance in which his parents met their untimely deaths. Also orphaned as a child when his own parents had been killed before his eyes, Wayne identified almost immediately with eight-year-old Dick Grayson's plight, and petitioned the court to adopt him.
Getting his bearings once more, Grayson proceeded to the rendezvous point, a crossroads located about two kilometers outside of the town of Hammelburg, Germany.
According to Brand, Grayson's contact codenamed 'Papa Bear' was one of the most successful underground leaders in Germany and would supply him with the men and assistance he'd need to accomplish his mission. Checking his watch, Grayson felt a sudden stab of impatience. It was 0212 hrs. Where *was* his mysterious contact? he wondered. He was already two minutes late.
The next instant he felt the cold, metallic bore of a weapon's muzzle on the back of his neck. Instinct taking over, Grayson kicked up and backwards with the speed of a cobra, and dislodged the offending weapon from his surprised ambusher's hand. In less than a heartbeat, he was holding his attacker in a headlock.
Unfortunately, he was also surrounded. Three shadowy figures had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. They each held German Schmeissers aimed directly at him. Grayson angled his captive between him and the weapons. "If you shoot me, you kill your friend," he warned.
The taller of three shadows spoke, "If you want peace--"
Grayson's ears perked at the cryptic words. "--Prepare for war," he finished. At Grayson's response, the tall shadow moved forward, and lowering his weapon, revealed himself to be a black man. "Nightwing, I assume?" he asked. Grayson nodded at the mention of his codename. The black soldier called to the others, "Newkirk! Carter! Lower your weapons. Carter, take point."
One of the shadows immediately broke away and made his way to the crossroads. Grayson was impressed by Carter's easy professionalism. He watched as the soldier checked to see if the coast was clear before running across the road and quickly fading into the dark woods beyond.
The next instant, the night's stillness was abruptly shattered. A series of loud crashes accompanied by several painful yelps came in the direction from whicb Carter had disappeared.
In the ensuing silence, Grayson and the other men froze in place.
The next moment a slightly embarrassed voice called from the other side of the road. "Uh...I'm okay, fellas...I, um, tripped. Sorry!"
A loud breath being suddenly exhaled, caught Grayson's attention. He looked down at his diminutive attacker who was suddenly struggling against him with renewed vigor. "Let me go! I'll *kill* him! Kinch, I swear that *this* time--!"
"Oh, calm down, Louis!" The remaining soldier who'd been quiet until now spoke with a distinct British accent. Not like Alfred's, Grayson thought, but more Cockney. "Anyone who wants to kill Carter has to stand in line--behind me!"
"Knock it off, you two--!" Kinchloe growled. "--Before you bring the whole Kraut Army down on top of us." The Frenchman muttered something unintelligible under his breath, while the Englishman looked on with amusement.
"Excusez-moi?" The small Frenchman looked up at Grayson. "Do you not suppose that it is time to release me?" He asked this last with a slight shrug. Grayson looked surprised. He'd forgotten that he was still holding the little guy. Remembering the cold feel of the weapon's muzzle against the back of his neck, Grayson was about to refuse, but finally let him go. His expression slightly rueful, the little man said sardonically, "Merci beaucoup."
"You okay, LeBeau?" Kinchloe asked.
"Oui, I am okay," LeBeau replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Good." Kinchloe turned to Grayson. "We're here to escort you to Papa Bear. Keep close and do everything we say. No questions asked." At Grayson's dark glare, Kinchloe added by way of explanation, "These woods are regularly patrolled, and we've already stayed out longer than I like."
Nodding, Grayson fell in behind him. "Where are we going?"
"To our very own lovely corner of Hell," the English soldier answered.
"Can the chatter, Newkirk," Kinchloe snapped.
"What's he talking about?" Grayson asked.
"You'll find out soon enough, buddy," Kinchloe replied. "LeBeau, Newkirk--cover the crossroads." The two men instantly took up positions along the road, and Kinchloe nodded grimly at Grayson. "Follow me."
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Tuesday, May 30, 1944 (0320hrs, local)
Woods outside
LuftStalag 13
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"A prisoner of war camp?!" Grayson hissed. He gave Kinchloe an incredulous look. "Are you *kidding*?!"
"Home sweet home, mate," Newkirk quipped.
"It's really not so bad once you get used to it," Carter added helpfully.
"The trouble is...who can get used to it?" LeBeau asked philosophically.
"Knock it off, you guys!" Kinchloe growled. "Carter, take the point." As Carter was about to move out, Kinchloe caught him by the collar. "And Carter...? Try not to trip this time."
"You bet, Kinch!" Carter said with an ingenuous nod. Jumping up, he took off at a low crouch, and promptly tripped. He fell in heap into a stand of heavy underbrush. Almost instantaneously, a hand appeared and waved at them from behind the high brush. "I'm okay!" The hand promptly disappeared.
Kinchloe slapped his hand across his eyes. Newkirk and LeBeau both shook their heads and rolled their eyes.
"Does he do that often?" Grayson asked nodding in Carter's direction.
"Does the sun rise in the east?" LeBeau asked.
"Newkirk, cover the rear," Kinchloe said tiredly. "LeBeau, Nightwing...let's go." Grayson shook his head. He was beginning to wonder if these men knew what they were doing. Furthermore, the young OSS agent was growing annoyed, because Brand hadn't said anything about a POW camp!
Kinchloe led them through the thick underbrush, his fluid movements sure of his footing. He had obviously traveled these woods before. Grayson caught LeBeau's eye. The tiny Frenchman gave him a quick grin and a thumb's up. Grayson smiled in turn, but couldn't help his growing sense of unease.
Finally, Kinchloe called a halt. They waited among a stand of trees until a low shadow appeared ahead of them. Grayson held his breath, his weapon ready. The next minute Carter's mild features became barely discernable in the dark night.
"Kinch, it's all clear," he whispered. "Schultzie's on duty--which means he's probably taking a nap--so the other guards are over by the mess hall having a smoke."
"Good ol' Schultzie," Newkirk muttered, "the Allies' secret weapon." Grayson almost jumped out of his skin. He hadn't even noticed that the Englishman had joined them. First, Carter stumbled through the woods like a one-man herd of elephants. Now, Newkirk seemed to glide through the shadows like a ghost. Where'd these guys learn their stealth tactics? he wondered.
"G-2 oughtta bottle Schultz or something," Kinchloe was saying. The others grinned almost fondly.
"Who's Schultz?" Grayson asked.
"You'll find out," Kinchloe said. "Carter, you first. And Carter...?" At Carter's questioning look, Kinchloe merely shook his head and waved him on. "Oh, never mind! Get going." Nodding, Carter moved out. LeBeau, then Newkirk soon followed. Kinchloe turned to Grayson. "Nightwing, you're with me. Let's go." With that the two men took off in the others' wake. After 50 feet or so, Kinchloe again called a halt. "Okay, buddy, this is it."
Grayson looked around, clearly not understanding. They were crouched next to a tree stump in the middle of the nowhere. "What--?" At that moment, the 'tree stump' unexpectedly opened, revealing a hidden tunnel entrance. LeBeau's head suddenly popped out.
"Kinch...!" he hissed. "The Colonel is waiting!" At Grayson's look of complete incongruity, he added with a happy smile, "I made a Delice Napoleon that is to *die* for! Hurry, before the others eat it all!" As the French corporal's head disappeared back inside the tree trunk, Grayson, still in shock, continued to stare at the now empty space.
A sudden tap on the shoulder brought Grayson back to reality. Kinchloe indicated that he go in first. "You heard the man...the colonel's waiting."
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End of Part 2