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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Kinch handed Hogan a clipboard full of his scribblings and watched as the Colonel looked it over. "Well that's something, but it still leaves us plenty in the dark," Hogan said with a sigh. He moved to the desk in his office and sat down. "We've got to get more; this isn't enough to make a solid judgment on."

"London says they didn't hear anything about him after that until we told them he was here," Kinch informed his commander.

Hogan shook his head. "There has to be more," he said. He stayed silent for a moment, thinking. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. "Got it. Kinch, remember Major Hans Teppel, Abwehr?"

"You mean that Morrison fella, the American?"

"That's right—Robert Morrison, from Milwaukee. He's been with Abwehr for ten years. If Eichberger was with military intelligence, he's bound to have come across him. Let's see if we can't get a little information from a former superior officer."

"How are we supposed to get through to him? It's not like I can say I'm just curious about my new Kommandant."

"You can't... but someone else can," Hogan said. "How about this: get Newkirk to put on one of his Kraut accents and call Abwehr Headquarters. Have him ask for Teppel, and tell him General Burkhalter wants a meeting here at Stalag 13, to review recent events. Use the code I have so he's knows it's us. Then have Newkirk ring Burkhalter to suggest the same thing. We should be able to make contact with Morrison while he's here and fill him in. He's bound to be able to give us some background information."

"And what happens if Burkhalter finds out he's been set up for a phony meeting? Won't he go off his head?"

"In front of Abwehr?" Hogan asked. "Not a chance. We'll just have to make sure we get to Teppel first."

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Newkirk came up from the tunnel, heaving a sigh as he approached Hogan's office. Hogan met him on the way out, and frowned at the downcast look on the Corporal's face. "What's the matter?" Hogan asked, concerned.

"No go, sir. Teppel's on rest leave."

"Rest leave!" Hogan echoed. "That's great; that's just great. When is he supposed to be back?"

"Not for two weeks. All I could do was leave a ruddy message."

"You made sure they took down the code?"

"Yes, sir. He'll know for sure it was us when he gets back from his holiday."

"And by then, we'll have dug ourselves in even deeper."

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Hogan took a moment to let his eyes follow Hilda as she walked around the desk outside the Kommandant's office. In his life as senior POW officer under Klink, Hogan had often had time for some brief rendezvous with the attractive blonde secretary. And she had willingly responded to his attention—sometimes for nylons, or perfume, or chocolate, and sometimes just for her own pleasure. But since his arrest and subsequent return to camp, Hogan had been pre-occupied, and flirting had been the last thing on his mind. Until this morning. I must be feeling better, Hogan thought with some mischievous satisfaction.

Hilda turned from the filing cabinet she had swayed to and looked Hogan in the eye. "Captain Eichberger is in conference this morning, Colonel Hogan. I don't think he is ready to see you yet today." She smiled coyly at him and went back to her desk.

"Conference?" Hogan repeated. "But there's no one in there with him, is there? I didn't see anyone come into camp."

"No," Hilda confirmed. "But he is on the telephone with Major Hochstetter." She made a face. "I don't think things are going very well. He has raised his voice more than once."

Hogan furrowed his brow. "Hochstetter, huh? How long have they been at it?"

"About fifteen minutes. Why?"

"Just wondering. Klink couldn't last two minutes with ol' Wolfie. I was curious about how long Eichberger could hold out."

Hilda paused in her paperwork. "It was very different working for Kommandant Klink than it is working for Captain Eichberger," she said.

"Different?"

Hilda shrugged. "Maybe it is because the Captain is new, but he spends much more time talking with Berlin. He does not seem to be happy trying to run things himself. At least Colonel Klink had some independence."

Hogan let what Hilda was saying sink in. "Well, he probably needs more help. After all, a lot happened here that never happened when Klink was around," he said slowly.

Hilda shrugged. "Perhaps. But all that shouting." She shook her head distastefully.

Hogan smiled and came in closer to the desk. "You need to get your mind off your troubles," he said in a low voice.

"My troubles?" she asked. "I don't think I have any troubles, Colonel Hogan." But Hilda smiled winningly at Hogan all the same.

He sat down on the corner of the desk. "Mm, that's too bad," Hogan said smoothly, happy to be feeling somewhat normal again. "I was hoping to help you forget all about them." He leaned in closer as Hilda looked up at him from under her fringe, and he was about to claim the first female comfort he had had in almost longer than he could remember, when the door to the office opened suddenly and nearly threw him off balance and onto the floor.

"Ah, Colonel Hogan, I was hoping you would come by this morning. Please, come in." Eichberger's voice sounded far more cheerful than Hogan felt, now deprived of the pleasures of Hilda. She shrugged innocently and returned to her typewriter as Hogan sighed and pulled himself away from the desk and into the inner office.

"Your timing stinks," Hogan complained, as Eichberger closed the door behind him and went around his desk to sit down.

"Well, how was I to know you were in... cahoots... with my secretary?"

"Are you kidding?" Hogan asked. "You're in a prison camp, Eichberger. Anything in a skirt is fair game. Kraut secretary or not." He crossed his arms. "I hear you've been having words with Major Hochstetter."

"Ah, yes," Eichberger said, clearing his throat. "I don't mind telling you that he's been making my life rather miserable for the last few weeks. He wants to have words with you, Colonel Hogan. Badly."

"He wants more than words, and I'm not about to let him do that. Are you?"

Eichberger shook his head. "I promised you that would not happen, Colonel. And it will not. He is applying as much pressure as he can, but I am getting the support of General Burkhalter, and that is helping."

"Burkhalter's backing you up?" Hogan asked, surprised.

"He does not want this camp's routine disturbed, Colonel. I have convinced him that I am a by-the-book, thorough man, whose only interest is in keeping you and the others in line. And that includes strict adherence to all camp rules, and even stricter disciplinary measures when necessary. That is why, of course, I had to keep you in the cooler for the full thirty days. It would have done my position no good for Burkhalter to find you wandering around the compound after only a week."

Hogan nodded. "It wouldn't have hurt mine any."

Eichberger smiled briefly. "Actually, I daresay that being in the cooler gave you a chance to recover from your escapades, albeit it in a bit colder climate." Hogan did not appear convinced. Eichberger shrugged. "Ah well, we do what we must, yes? And I did. So now, Colonel Hogan, it is time to cause some more headaches for the Third Reich."

"What have you got this time?"

"This one will require a more delicate touch," Eichberger said. "A very important scientist, Klaus Schoendorfer, is coming to Stalag 13 on Friday on his way to a meeting with some of the brass in Berlin. He will need lodging overnight and is staying in camp. He is carrying with him plans for a special experimental rocket fuel. Now, the Nazis have tried this kind of thing before and failed. But this one is supposed to be just the ticket. And unlike the other geniuses, this man has it all written down."

Hogan knitted his brow. "Sounds too easy," he said.

"I haven't gotten to the delicate part yet. Schoendorfer isn't your friendly sort. He speaks to no one, and I mean no one. So finding out where the stuff is will be tricky."

"Why is it this regime attracts all the nuts? Where are you planning on putting him?"

"I was considering the VIP hut." Eichberger paused. "If that's convenient for you."

"What would be convenient is Schoendorfer deciding that he wants to defect and just handing the formula over voluntarily."

Eichberger shook his head, amused. "You constantly amaze me, Colonel. I understand now how you have survived in this war so long."

"You mean it isn't my charm and good looks?" Hogan quipped, not yet at ease.

Eichberger laughed out loud. "Hogan! You are a wonder. So the VIP hut is acceptable."

"It's fine. And don't worry; I'll make sure he's handled delicately."

"Schoendorfer has to remain in the German system, Hogan. His disappearance would cause such an uproar as to bring all of the Third Reich down on us. And at the moment we cannot afford that."

Hogan sighed. "So we don't dispose of him, we just steal the plans."

"Dispose of...Colonel Hogan, were you considering assassinating him?"

"If we had to, but obviously it appears we can't. I can't think of any other way that a dead rocket fuel stays dead." He mused for a moment. "We'll just have to make sure the Allies get enough information to be able to discredit it or find a way to counter it."

"You think so far ahead, Colonel, it is hard to keep up."

"If I don't think so far ahead, I could be dead."

"How are we going to handle it?"

"There won't be a 'we' this time, Eichberger. Leave this one to me."

"You and your men will do this?"

Hogan hesitated. He was going to need someone else with him, but he was still reluctant to expose anyone else to Eichberger. "I'm going to need some help. Some of the people I use won't even be aware that they are doing anything out of the ordinary. I'll keep you posted."

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"Where else do we have contacts?" Kinch wracked his brain trying to think of other ways to get more information on Eichberger.

Hogan sighed again, one in a collection that he noticed was starting to wear him down. Maybe he should just close up shop and get out anyway; he could use the rest. "Everywhere. But no one seems to know about our mystery man. We're going to have to piece it together ourselves."

"That is a dangerous undertaking, Colonel," Le Beau observed.

"No more dangerous than anything we're doing now," Hogan replied. He took a deep breath to collect himself. "Let's go through what we have as absolute fact so far: Black Forest is dispatched from London fourteen months ago to infiltrate the Abwehr and work with any agents we have there. Seven months ago, he disappears without a trace. London worries that he's been found out and killed. They wait for the fallout in case he talked before he was executed, but nothing happens. About a month later, Eichberger shows up in the Luftwaffe, fresh with a transfer from the Abwehr, looking to work his way up the ladder, and when the opportunity arises, he wheedles his way into Stalag 13, where he reveals himself to me and starts taking an active role in sabotage missions. He's awkward, but he seems sincere, and so far, he's kept his promises to keep the Gestapo—and Burkhalter—at bay." Hogan ran his hands over his face to give himself time to think before concluding, "I'm worrying over nothing. It all sounds perfectly logical." He looked down at his cup of coffee, quickly going cold before him on the table. "Sorry, fellas. My judgment's been all off-balance lately. I just can't seem to get back in the rhythm of it. Maybe it's time I hand over."

Concerned looks spread over his men's faces. "What?" Newkirk blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Not a chance," Carter added.

"You're just feeling out of sorts after everything that's happened," Kinch declared. "That's normal, Colonel. It doesn't mean you're supposed to step down."

"Oui, Kinch is right," Le Beau agreed. "The operation is not worth running without you back in command, Colonel."

Hogan rubbed his forehead slowly, closing his eyes to try and blot out the current and remembered images playing before him. Finally, he stopped and put on a wry smile. "I must be the only guy in the world whose retirement is dictated by his employees."

Le Beau exhaled in relief. "Let's get back to work," he suggested.

Hogan nodded and shook himself out of his mood. There have been too many moods lately. "Okay. We have this Schoendorfer to worry about. There's not going to be a chance to build any rapport with him. The best we can hope for is to distract him long enough to go rifling through his things and see if we can find the formula. Eichberger's agreed to organize a nice dinner for Herr Schoendorfer in his quarters, which means the VIP hut will be vacant for awhile. Kinch, I want you and Carter to sneak in there while I'm wining and dining Mr. Charm to see if you can find the papers. Le Beau..."

"Oui, I know. Kitchen duty."

"Absolutely. And Newkirk, you, too. I'm going to need you to pat him down in case he's carrying the documents on him instead of leaving them in his quarters."

"Right, Colonel."

"Meanwhile, Kinch, see if you can't raise the Underground. We need to get Klink out of here, and London's not being helpful at all." Hogan thought of the Kommandant, stuck for what seemed like forever in an underground world he did not understand. "This is dragging out for him, and believe it or not I actually feel a bit sorry for him."

Carter nodded. "It must be scary for him. He doesn't know how he's gonna be treated, no matter what we say to make him feel better."

"We did whisk him away from his own world pretty quick," Kinch admitted.

"If we hadn't, he'd have been in another world anyway; I have no doubt about that," Hogan said. "Hochstetter wouldn't have taken the time to interrogate Klink before convincing a jury to find him guilty of treason." Hogan paused as his own "interrogation", ever-present in the recesses of his mind, came hurtling to the fore. He felt his stomach bottom out in that sickening way it did often now, and he was sure he had paled visibly.

The others couldn't help but notice the change in their commanding officer, but they could think of nothing reassuring to say. Wilson had warned them that Hogan's psyche would have been badly damaged by his experiences—the belief that he was going to die, the torturous lead-up to it that would have left him no hope of reprieve—and that only time would heal some of the more superficial mental wounds. Some of the more serious psychological injuries would never leave him, and over the coming months and years, he would have to find ways to cope with them. But for now, they simply left Hogan paralyzed, speechless, and his men could only watch, and hope for him, and try to support him in his pain.

"Well, then, he's lucky he found us then, isn't he?" Newkirk quipped, trying to lighten the mood in the room. Hogan looked at him gratefully. "I mean, not every prisoner has three meals a day served to him by people promising fine treatment and an all-expenses paid trip to London!"

"Via the scenic, underground route," Kinch added.

Hogan nodded, desperate to latch onto the forced change in atmosphere.

"He is a lucky man," Le Beau said. "I wish we could all head to London."

"We will, Louis," Carter said. "As soon as the war is over."

All that was left then was to dream of when that would be.