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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Hogan found himself facing five pairs of anxious eyes when he dropped off the last rung of the ladder at the tunnel entrance. He merely blinked his surprise, too tired to wonder why they were all still up, and why they had Wilson with them. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

Hogan's men surrounded him and unnecessarily guided him through the tunnel to the ladder that led to the barracks. When they got upstairs, they immediately sat him down at the common room table, firing questions left and right, leaving Hogan unable to hear any one person clearly. Finally, he just said over the noise, "It was fine, it was all fine."

Wilson sat down on the bench nearest him and tried to look into Hogan's eyes. "What are you doing here?" Hogan asked, as Wilson pulled at his eyelids.

"Are you kidding? Heading out on a mission without my permission? That's against the rules." Wilson reached for Hogan's arms. "Let me see. How did these work tonight?"

"I said everything was just fine," Hogan answered.

"No problems? What about gripping things?"

Hogan shrugged. "A bit tough with the right hand, but I managed."

"How do they feel?"

"They're fine!"

Wilson sat back and released Hogan's arms. Hogan's right hand looked a bit swollen, and Wilson suspected it was somewhat tender to the touch. He wasn't satisfied, but he knew he wouldn't get anything else out of the Colonel, especially with his men around. "You've got a date with me later this morning," he said pointedly. He stood up and nodded to the others. "Make sure he keeps it."

"Will do," Kinch said, much to Hogan's dismay.

Wilson disappeared back down the tunnel, and Hogan's men got down to details. "What was it like, Colonel? Was Eichberger there?" asked Le Beau.

Hogan nodded. "Yeah, he was there. Green as grass, but he was there. Kept his side of the bargain. Came up with dynamite, grenades, did exactly as he was told. I made sure he was back in camp before I came in through the tunnel."

"What do you think of him?" Newkirk asked. "Is he for real?"

Hogan shrugged his shoulders. "Seems to be," he said. "So far so good."

"How was his dynamite?" Carter piped up.

Hogan smiled tiredly. He should have known. "It was fine, Carter. Not as good as yours, of course, but it got the job done. I tell you what, it was strange working with an amateur again—I'll stick to you and your know-how any day, Carter. I didn't like making all the decisions about what went where."

Carter smiled, satisfied.

"So what happens now?" Kinch asked.

Hogan stood up and stretched carefully. "Now we get some sleep. Roll call comes early, and we want to look our best, don't we?"

"It's not like Eichberger won't know where you've been 'alf the night," Newkirk said.

"True," Hogan agreed. "But we want to make a good impression anyway, don't we? And you fellas should look fresh as a daisy in the morning. You have no reason to be tired, especially since you don't know what's going on, right?"

"Right," Le Beau said reluctantly.

"Well, at least we can sleep better, now that we know Eichberger's okay," Carter said cheerfully.

Hogan agreed as the others added their support to the statement, then turned in for the night. He only wished he could believe that it was true.

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Eichberger motioned for Hogan to sit down. "Please, Colonel, I am most anxious to have your opinion about last night," he said as Hogan pulled up a chair.

"You came through for us, Eichberger. That convoy isn't getting anywhere." Hogan still sounded non-committal.

"So I have shown you where my loyalties lie. Now can we work together?"

Hogan nodded slowly. "Yeah. But under my command. You lead the camp; the operation is ultimately my responsibility, and I won't have anyone blowing it. And that includes the Kommandant of Stalag 13. And you're to treat me exactly the same way you did before. There's to be no preferential treatment, otherwise you might give the whole thing away."

"Oh, absolutely. Yes, Colonel."

"There's one thing I still don't understand, Eichberger. How did you get into the Luftwaffe? I thought you were supposed to have infiltrated military intelligence. Now, the Luftwaffe is a lot of things, but intelligent is not one of them."

Eichberger nodded. "You be assured you are right in that regard, Colonel. Intelligence is not the Luftwaffe's strong point."

"You can say that again," Hogan interjected.

"I stayed in Abwehr for quite some time. Several months, in fact. But it became apparent that I was not cut out for that work within the German military—funny, because that was what I was eminently suited for back in London—and instead of taking the risk of being shuffled out and sent to the Russian front, I decided to wrangle a transfer to a different branch of the military."

Hogan frowned. "You could have just escaped if you were going to be sent east. I'm sure London wouldn't have expected you to be fighting against our allies."

"That's exactly why I moved, Hogan. I didn't want to escape. I wanted to help. And the more complicated they made the job, the more I was worried about being found out, so I got while the getting was good. They were strangely amenable to my transfer. Maybe they were just trying to get rid of me," Eichberger considered with some amusement. "They don't care for inefficiency, and I just couldn't get the hang of the work."

"And you dropped out of sight because..."

"Because I was suspicious of their eagerness to move me. I thought perhaps I had been found out and they were waiting to pounce. So I stayed out of contact because I didn't want them getting anyone further up the line. I had many contacts in Berlin, and I didn't want any of them to be compromised."

Hogan nodded. "Sounds logical. It was a good move."

"So now, Colonel. Now we can get to work?"

Hogan nodded again. "Yep. Now we can get to work. I've been a bit out of touch lately, don't know a lot of what's going on around town. I'll leave it to you to come up with the next target."

"You can count on me, Colonel Hogan."

"I'm betting on it."

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"I don't know; I just can't get myself to trust him completely yet," Hogan said to Wilson, as he submitted to the medic's procedures. He fought to blink as Wilson held his one eye, then the other, pried open while he stuck a light beam in his face.

"Well, that's not really unexpected," Wilson replied. He snapped off the light and motioned for Hogan to unbutton his shirt. "I mean, after what you've been put through, you have every right to be a little wary of anyone German, don't you think?" He pulled back the shirt and examined the Colonel's abdomen. The wounds had closed, but the scars remained as final healing continued. A gentle probe of a couple of what had been the deeper lacerations made Hogan flinch. "That's going well," Wilson observed. "No infection, no more bleeding."

"See? I told you I was a good boy," Hogan responded. "Thing is, I don't know what's bothering me about him," Hogan continued.

Wilson watched as the Colonel struggled to rebutton his shirt, stopping once or twice to massage his right hand. Obviously, there were still problems. "Still giving you trouble?" he asked, taking hold of the hand as Hogan tried to avoid his gaze.

"A little."

"Hard to maneuver?"

"Sometimes. It just aches, and sometimes I can't get it to do what I want."

"I'm not surprised." Wilson gently pressed on the knuckles at the base of Hogan's fingers. Hogan grunted as his hand spasmed in response. "They're still not in the best shape," Wilson added, flexing the two outer fingers just lightly. Hogan bit his lip. "They're a lot better, but you still have to go easy on them."

"I am," Hogan said. He caressed his sore hand when Wilson let go. "Haven't you noticed my shaving is a bit off?" He put his left hand up to scratch a bit of stubble he had missed this morning. "Can't get it all. And I'm sick of asking Le Beau to be my barber."

"Hey, that's not so bad. Not everyone can have a manservant in the middle of World War Two." Wilson finished his work and faced his superior officer. "Now, why don't you talk to me about Eichberger?"

Hogan waved the idea away. "You don't want to hear about that. It's just me being paranoid."

"What you call paranoia, I call a sixth sense. And I trust yours more than anyone I've ever met."

Hogan gestured helplessly as he tried to put his gut feelings into words. "I don't know, Joe, there's just something I don't like. Maybe it's just because he was out of touch with London for so long. I mean, he did the right thing last night; he could have had a trap waiting for me, but he didn't. And he knew all the recognition codes, knew my code name...I'm just off balance, I think. Not getting much input from London isn't helping, either."

"So what would make you feel better?"

Hogan laughed gently. "A nice hot bath in a nice big bathroom in Connecticut."

Wilson smiled. "I'm afraid we're a little short of those in the middle of Germany. How about a cold shower?"

"That's all I've had for the last three years." Hogan grinned. Joe always did know what to say.

"Look, Colonel. If you're uncomfortable, why don't you find out if you can trace Eichberger's trail—from when he got here, to when he fell out of touch, to when he reappeared. Someone must have information, and once you've been able to confirm it all, you'll feel better."

"Either that or I'll wish I'd never met him." Hogan nodded. "That's a good idea." He stood up. "Thanks, Joe," Hogan said sincerely. "I'm sure I'm way too far in your debt to ever repay you." He headed for the door.

"That's okay, Colonel. I think I owe you a few, too. But, hey, if you're ever not sure how to pay up—"

Hogan turned back from the door and raised his eyebrows expectantly. "You can always loan me Le Beau for the day. I'd love to have my own personal barber."

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"Kinch, get on the horn to London. Tell them I want some answers, and I want them sooner rather than later."

"Right, Colonel."

"What's going on, Colonel?" asked Le Beau, as Hogan started to follow Kinch downstairs.

"We're going to get to the bottom of Eichberger so I can get a decent night's sleep!"