AUTHOR:Meercat
RATING:Strong PG-13
WARNINGS:Violence, some torture, drama, angst
AUTHOR'S THANKS: To Patti and Marg for their wonderful beta of this story. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
A/N: My monitor died—had to wait until payday to replace it (when the paycheck only comes once a month, that's sometimes a long time in coming). One week after I replaced the monitor, a thunderstorm blew out my power supply. Again, had to wait until payday. Due to mounting health problems, having to put my dog to sleep, and a changerover in personnel at work that had me working 60 hour weeks, I have had neither the time nor the access to my computer to do any writing. My direct supervisor quit, leaving just me to run the clerical/administrative/personnel sides of a 35-person division in a medical teaching and research university. Anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the wait.
Chapter 15
"Colonel Klink, I must protest. There are too many people in here. They aren't good for my patient's health."
Though spacious in relation to its curtained-off surgical area, six recovery beds, storage cabinets, side tables, and two potbelly stoves, each with its own full wood box, the Stalag 13 infirmary was not made to hold all that in addition to the doctor, his patient, five prisoners, and six German soldiers. Hogan and his men immediately took up all the space around Andrew Carter's bed, as much to protect him from Hochstetter's attentions as to stand vigil during his recovery.
"I quite understand, Herr Doktor," Klink said. "Colonel Hogan, you and your men can stay for a short while but you must follow the doctor instructions to the letter. That includes leaving when he feels it is time. Schultz, you will stay here with Hogan to make certain he obeys the doctor. The rest of you are dismissed." As the three guards disappeared through the door, the Kommandant smiled at the officer in black and waved toward the door. "Major Hochstetter, perhaps you and I can have further conversation on this matter ... in my office?"
Major Wolfgang Hochstetter deliberately turned his back to Klink and glowered at the patient on the only occupied cot. Light from the three bare overhead bulbs clashed with the red glows from the two potbelly stoves and gave him a gaunt, almost bestial visage. The image of the Gestapo officer as a hovering vulture became even more pronounced.
"I have every right to be in this room," Hochstetter replied. "I say send the prisoners back to their barracks right away and let me get on with my interrogation."
Colonel Hogan sputtered, his men seethed, and Sergeant Schultz stared at everyone in confusion. Colonel Klink opened and closed his mouth without making a sound. Only the doctor reacted coherently to the Gestapo officer's words, most likely because he failed to see the rapid hunger in the intelligence officer's eyes. The physician turned away from his patient, removed the stethoscope from his ears, and faced the room.
"There will be no interrogation, Major," the doctor said. "Not today, most likely not anytime within the next week. This man isn't sleeping. He is not even unconscious. He is in a coma. His heartbeat is irregular and his blood pressure dangerously low. His pulse is 130--this is dangerously high and is due to low blood volume, especially considering the number of blood transfusions I've already administered. Worst of all, his temperature is rising, a sure sign of infection. He is in no condition to hear you, let alone answer you coherently."
Major Hochstetter waved his hands around in denial. "Bah! He hopes to escape my interrogation by faking unconsciousness. I will wake him up."
"With God as my witness," Hogan squared off against the shorter man, "you will not touch that boy."
Hochstetter and Hogan stared at each other long enough to raise everyone's hackles. The only sound in the room was Andrew Carter's irregular, wheezing breaths.
The tension stretched from seconds into long minutes. The slightest provocation would ignite a vicious battle between the two officers. Hogan had youth, strength, and combat experience on his side. Hochstetter had the advantages of being the captor rather than the captive, along with all of the weapons and authority of that position. Even if Hogan won their physical battle, he and his men would certainly suffer at the hands of Hochstetter's superiors.
Again, the doctor defused the hostilities with three simple, straightforward sentences. "I have enough to do keeping this one man alive. I will have no time to tend any other injuries. By this I mean, there will be no fighting in my infirmary."
Colonel Hogan came back to himself first, at last aware of Kinch's tight hold on his left arm and Newkirk's death grip on his right. Though it galled him to the bone to back down before the black-hearted little weasel, he had his men and his operation to think about.
The doctor diverted the hostilities further by saying, "There is no way, Major, to fake his situation."
Hochstetter did not want to let go of his theory. "Drugs can alter heart beat and blood pressure."
"That is true enough," the doctor admitted, "but they cannot duplicate the physical damage that I, myself, repaired. There is absolutely no chance that his situation is in any way faked. He is in a coma from which he may never awaken."
With a sneer of German superiority mixed with a snarl of disappointment, Hochstetter turned away from the prisoners and said, "We are going back to your office, Klink. I have some phone calls to make."
Hochstetter wheeled on the ball of his right foot and marched through the door. Klink turned toward Hogan for a moment, his expression one of apology and sympathy. When the Major yelled his name from out in the yard, the camp Kommandant tucked his swagger stick under his arm and hurried out, calling, "Coooooming, Maaaaaaajor."
"Colonel Hogan," Schultz said in the silence that followed the officers' withdrawal. "I will step outside for a few minutes to let you visit Carter in peace. I suspect the doctor will not let you all stay through the night, maybe just one or two of you. The rest must return to the barracks."
Seeing the doctor nod, Hogan sighed, let his shoulders relax, and said, "Thanks, Schultz."
Schultz reached out and gently tapped the hump of blankets over Carter's toes, whispered, "Get well, Carter," then led disappeared through the door. A rush of winter-chilled wind swirled through the open door, dropping the room's temperature ten degrees in a matter of seconds. Snowflakes landed on the nearest potbelly and vanished.
The doctor stepped to the supply cabinet on the far side of the room and began inventorying medications and materials used in the surgery. Left alone at his injured friend's bedside, Hogan unfolded a blanket left on the side table and added it to those already covering his injured subordinate. He tucked it as tight around Carter as he could without disturbing either bandages or tubing.
Unable to think of anything more to do, Hogan took off his bomber jacket and draped it across the back of the room's only chair.
No sooner had he settled down on the seat than Kinch hissed, "Damnit, Colonel!"
Hogan leaped back up and stared around for the source of Kinchloe's outrage. "What!"
In answer, Kinch stepped up to his commanding officer and pointed an accusing finger at the red bloodstain on the back of his shirt.
"Why didn't you say anything about this?" Kinch whispered.
"About wha-" Hogan winced. A dull burn reminded him of the shallow bullet graze along his shoulder blade. Dried blood on his back gave him a terrible itch. How had he ignored the sting all this time? "Oh. That."
"Sometimes, Colonel," Kinch shook his head, "you have more guts than common sense."
Hogan eyed the doctor to see if he might be aware of the conversation. Seeing no obvious reaction, he said, "I had more important things on my mind."
Newkirk cut into the conversation, asking, "And if slimy ol' Wolfgang had seen that blood, he'd've known Carter wasn't the only one of us out last night."
"What are you guys worried about? Hochstetter's gone now. Carter's made it through surgery. Someone can slap a band aid on my little boo-boo, and once Olsen and his team are back, we can all relax."
A/N: Does anyone believe it's going to be that simple? Didn't think so.