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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"You're all square on the plan?" Hogan asked, having gone over the sequence of the night's events yet again with Newkirk, Kinch, Carter and Le Beau. "When we've cleared the munitions plant and the bridge, you fellas head home. I'll detour over to the Schultzes' and bring Ludwig and Alida back here."

"Oui, Colonel," Le Beau answered. "Are you sure one of us cannot go with you?"

"Definitely not; there'll be Krauts swarming as soon as that thing blows, and I want you guys home safe and sound."

"Never thought I'd think of this crummy place as home," Newkirk commented.

Hogan turned to him. "Yeah, well, be it ever so humble… you know how it goes. For better or for worse, when we're seen to be here, we're safer than we are out there—most of the time anyway. And here is exactly where I want you when the Germans start to congregate. Got it?"

Le Beau sighed. "Got it."

"And Carter," Hogan added, when he saw the young man about to protest, "you can consider this a general order."

Carter swallowed. "Yes, sir."

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The problem of getting explosives into the plant had been considered over the few days leading up to this moment; in the end, Hogan had determined, with input from Carter, that there would be sufficient material in the plant to be converted quickly into something deadly. Shoe laces, however, had been replaced by fuses, and inside their socks and tight around their waists were tiny, concealed amounts of gunpowder. "Now that's what I call a hotfoot," Kinch quipped, breaking up the tension they were all feeling as they made their preparations.

"Have you got your papers?" Hogan asked, as they prepared to head out.

"Right here, Colonel," Newkirk answered, holding them up for him and Le Beau to take. "I copied them from the ones White Rabbit got us."

Hogan took his and studied them. "Hm, Johannes Schneider. Sounds generic enough."

Carter looked at his and frowned. "I'm not sure I can get the Germans to believe my name is Max Laffer," Carter said. "I mean, I'm probably more of an Isaac or a Jeremy, or a—"

"Or a dead man if you use names like that," Hogan retorted. Carter shrugged. "Okay, let's get moving," Hogan urged, taking a last look over the men around him. He, Carter, and Newkirk were dressed in civilian work clothes, gathered over the course of the operation's buildup, the rest borrowed from members of the Underground. Kinch and Le Beau were dressed all in black, and Le Beau had covered his face and hands with soot from the stove in the common room. Hogan led the way to the bunk that hid the entrance to the tunnel, then turned before tripping the catch. "Remember—you do your work, and you get out. I'll meet you back here with Ludwig and Alida as soon as I can. No deviations from that part of the plan. For anyone. Understood?"

The meaning behind Hogan's words was all too clear. They could look after each other while they were at the plant, but once Hogan was on his own, their part of the job was finished, and they weren't to get involved again until he arrived back at camp. If he didn't arrive as planned because of major German activity in the woods, they were to do nothing.

Nothing but worry.

And then, quite possibly, nothing but grieve.

Kinch nodded and spoke quietly for the group. "Understood, Colonel."

Hogan nodded, took a moment to look each of his men in the eye, then tapped the bunk and started down the ladder.

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"Papiere, bitte."

Hogan watched carefully as Carter handed his documents to the German soldier standing at the door to the plant. The guard studied them, glanced at Carter, and said, "Sie sind Max Laffer?"

Carter just smiled self-consciously and shifted feet. "Ja, Leutnant, ja, bin ich Max Laffer."

Hogan drew in a breath and held it as the soldier said nothing, but continued looking at the papers. Finally, the Lieutenant nodded and waved Carter through. Newkirk passed easily, and then Hogan himself was allowed to enter.

At first they simply followed the rest of the crowd. Old men, women of all ages, a few people who looked just slightly too young to join the German military. Hogan had a feeling that if the war lasted another couple of years, those youth would be drafted and sent off to fight, some never to return to their families, who were likely somewhere else in this crowd. But then, depending on how the evening turned out, Hogan thought with a sick feeling in his stomach, most of these people wouldn't be going home tonight. There's got to be a way….

Soon they were given direction, with Hogan, Newkirk and Carter assigned to a small room with two bulky machines. Hogan looked inquiringly at his men, who shrugged their ignorance of the equipment's use as well. Three other men had been assigned with them, as well as a German military supervisor, who started firing off instructions.

"Du musst nur wenig tun. Sorg einfach dafür, dass diese Maschine nicht anhält, und sammle das auf, was auf der anderen Seite herauskommt." The solider pointed to a large container on wheels at the foot of the machine, then to others near the opposite wall. "Wenn sie voll Sind, trag sie durch das Tor und in die Halle." The men nodded understanding: watch the machines, let the materials fall into the containers, then bring the containers down the hall. The soldier came up to Hogan and shook his head. "Du siehst zu gesund aus, um in einer Fabrik zu sein, statt in Uniform. Du musst dumm sein. Verstehst du, was ich sage?" The soldier smiled teasingly.

Hogan knew he shouldn't be offended at the guard's words: you look too healthy to be here instead of fighting; you must be stupid. After all, he needed to fit in. But something inside him still seethed. Is this how they treated the people who, in the end, were the ones supplying the war effort with what it needed to survive? Is this how they treated their own countrymen?

"Verstehst du?" the guard repeated.

Hogan stayed completely expressionless. "Ja. Ja, mein Herr, ich verstehe." I understand all too well.

The supervisor laughed softly and moved away, leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette.

"Can't help thinking that's a bad idea," Carter muttered under his breath when he joined Hogan and Newkirk in dragging one of the huge containers toward the end of the machine.

"Why's that?" Hogan whispered.

"Well, a lit cigarette near explosives…well, gee, that could start a fire… or worse! I mean, take a look at this stuff! Casings for grenades, over there are some—"

Hogan gestured for Carter to keep his voice down. The trio very slowly jostled the container into place. "Carter, you're brilliant," Hogan said, patting his arm.

"What? I am?"

Hogan straightened. "You've just helped save countless lives."

"I have?"

"Look out," Newkirk muttered quickly, and cleared his throat as the supervisor moved into earshot.

"Die hier ist voll. Bring sie in die Verpackungshalle und hol die nächste," the overseer said, then moved on to where the other three men were working at the other machine.

Hogan nodded and Newkirk smiled ingratiatingly, grabbing an empty container to wheel over to the processor. Hogan and Carter pulled their load out the door and started heading down the hall. It was deserted except for a mouse that hopped frantically along the wall, looking for a hole. It quickly disappeared under a door as the noise of the container rolling across the floor echoed piercingly.

Several doors were getting Hogan's attention at present. He wanted to know what might be behind them—or, more to the point, who might be behind them. "Carter, look out for any kind of alarm system," he said softly, conscious of the possibility of his voice carrying.

"Alarm system?"

"Air raid, fire, anything like that." Carter nodded. "And remember, we still have to find the switch to disarm that fence—and fast. I have a feeling we'll find all those things in the same area."

The door ahead of them opened, and another two workers, pushing an empty container, passed them in the opposite direction. "Guten abend, gnädig Frauen," Hogan nodded.

The two women smiled warmly. "Guten abend, mein Herr." And they passed back into another room.

Carter grinned. "Hey, I think the little one liked you, Colonel. D-did you see how she smiled at you?"

Hogan let out a short laugh. "Maybe I'll look her up—after the mission, okay, Max?" Let me take you back to Connecticut, fraulein. "I need a girl I can take home to Mother."

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"I wonder how they are going in there," Le Beau whispered, as he and Kinch stayed crouched behind some brush in the woods near the plant. Deciding that discretion was the better part of staying alive, they had no made any move yet towards the plant, and had remained near the rear of the building, away from the gates where there were guards and weapons.

"The Colonel said we'd know when we have the all-clear. And you know the Colonel—he doesn't do things in a small way. When he comes up with a signal, it'll be a big one."

"Well I hope it is a soon one," Le Beau added. "I am freezing."

"Better than sweating it out in there," Kinch reminded him. "Being right in the middle of all those Germans—I don't think I'd want to do it."

"I don't think they would be too pleased, either," Le Beau replied, laughing under his breath. "Maybe one time you can go in as a Bosche General. That would shake them up."

"It'd give a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Brothers in arms.'"

Kinch and Le Beau laughed, then settled back in to wait for the signal, each silently praying that all was going smoothly on the inside, and that they hadn't seen their companions for the last time.