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Weaving A Web To Freedom

Book Three: Fliegerabwehrkanonen Spells FLAK

Chapter 31

Cat and Mouse

"You had them in your sight and still lost them?" Kaltenbrunner asked.

Krantz cringed. There was nothing to say but, "Jawohl, Herr General."

Looking at Major Hochstetter he added, "The Gestapo brought their dogs in but the scent was lost."

The officers turned to look at Hochstetter, who was puffing up with indignation at the implication that the Gestapo had been bested.

"Don't try to pawn your shortcomings off on the Gestapo. It's no wonder the dogs couldn't track them after your men had tramped all over the woods before you called us in."

Krantz swallowed his pride and took the fall. "I'm afraid you may have a point, Major. We lost them between Hammelburg and Stalag 13."

Hochstetter tensed and shot a quick glance to his left at Hogan.

Burkhalter addressed Hochstetter's innuendo immediately. "Don't say it, Major."

Then turning to Krantz, suggested, "They probably had a car and driver waiting on them…if they were as experienced as you say."

Hochstetter succumbed to rank and agreed. "I'm sure you're right, Herr General."

Hogan rubbed his eyes, they felt like they had sand in them. And squinting to keep Krantz in view decided to rub a little salt in the wound. "What did your burglars get away with?"

Krantz took a confrontational step toward Hogan. "Nothing."

"Seems like a lot of trouble to go to for nothing!" Hogan answered, shifting his weight as he looked longingly at a nearby vacant chair.

Then looking back to Krantz he continued, "I mean your bringing in the Gestapo and the search dogs and all." His mouth felt dry and his lips parched. His eyes lingered on the water pitcher sitting on the table next to Hochstetter.

"Just because nothing was taken, doesn't mean we will allow the criminals to get away. We are still looking." Krantz took a step into Hogan's 'personal' space. "In fact, we are even looking at Stalag 13."

"What?" Klink spoke up. "Without my consent?"

"The SS does not need your consent where security issues are concerned, Colonel Klink," Kaltenbrunner answered, effectively stopping any further comments from the Oberst.

Still looking at Hogan, Krantz added, "We are questioning some of your prisoners, Kommandant. Even if they were not involved they may have seen something in the woods around your camp. There are two prisoners in particular that have my interest." Krantz paused for emphasis, "One is a Corporal Newkirk and the other a Frenchman. Let's see his name is…" Krantz hesitated while pretending to search for a name.

Hogan felt like his brain was banging against his skull with every beat of his heart. Fighting to clear his mind he reached up to rub his forehead, then slid his hand down his face hoping the stimulation would chase the clouds that were dulling his thinking away. "Louis LeBeau," Hogan wearily finished with contempt. Okay, Krantz, you've succeeded. You've got my attention. But that's not always a good thing.

"Yes, Colonel, how did you know or is there only one Frenchman in the camp?" Krantz looked into the flushed face of the prisoner not expecting or wanting an answer.

The American Colonel was not one to let anyone's expectations or wants deter a response.

"Don't toy with me, Captain." Hogan took a quick breath which pulled at his wounded side. Resisting the urge to clutch at it, he forced himself to continue. "What do you think you will gain by harassing my men? We were all confined to barracks at that hour of the night. In fact, the only way we ever get outside of Stalag 13 is on a work detail with an escort." The room momentarily turned to jello and he paused as he swayed slightly. Fighting the vertigo, he placed his hand on Hochstetter's bed to steady himself.

Hochstetter, being the predator that he is, relished the weakness he observed in Hogan, and satisfied his urge to pounce by shoving the American's hand off of his bed.

Wincing, Hogan caught himself and straightened to face Krantz. "Or did you have some other point you wanted to make?

"I am merely gathering information, Colonel Hogan? You never know what seemingly insignificant bit of information will inadvertently solve a case." Krantz reevaluated the possibility of Hogan's involvement. He conceded that Hogan may not have been directly involved, but it could have been his men operating under his orders."Three men burgled my office and I will find them."

Krantz turned to look at General Kaltenbrunner, "I came here to enlist Major Hochstetter's assistance and ask if he noticed any suspicious activity in town. I didn't mean to intrude on your plans, Herr General."

"We were just finishing here, Captain." And then gesturing toward Hochstetter added, "We will leave you and Major Hochstetter to discuss your business."

Hogan studied the back of Krantz's head wondering how far the German Captain would go in his interrogation of Newkirk and LeBeau. I underestimated you, Krantz. I'm off my game and my men could suffer because of it! Glancing behind him he carefully reached for the arm of the bedside chair and sat down, giving in to his pain and fatigue. He felt as if his heart were visibly vibrating him with each beat. Momentarily closing his burning eyes, the memory of the SS interrogation room with its torturous devices played across his thoughts. As did the man he saw being dragged out of that same room before they made their escape from SS headquarters. His eyes still closed, he hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck, while praying his men wouldn't be their next guests.

General Kaltenbrunner glanced at Hogan sitting in the chair. He then looked at Knefler capturing his attention and directed the Oberst's eyes toward Hogan with a nod.

Hogan was glad to hear they were finished. He was tired, and tired of the company he had been keeping. Anxious to get back to camp and check on LeBeau and Newkirk, he opened his eyes, and looking up, came face to face with Knefler.

"At last, Colonel, it is time for our talk," Knefler announced, while reaching down to grab Hogan's arm in order to help the American to his feet.

Hogan's surprised look, changed to a scowl, "I told you yesterday, I have nothing to say to you."

"How do you know? You haven't tried yet." Knefler motioned the guards forward.

Hogan looked angrily at Klink while he was being handcuffed, in a desperate attempt to get the Kommandant to protest, but it was obvious he had no intention of interfering. Klink twisted his hand around the end of his swagger stick and looked away. So this is what was on your mind this morning, Kommandant.

"Guards, assist Colonel Hogan out of the room," Knefler ordered, as he turned away. The guards latched onto their prisoner's arms and Knefler opened the door motioning them out ahead of him.

Not eager to begin this next step, Hogan resisted the guards by keeping his feet planted and unmoving. This resulted in only a short delay, as the guards increased their efforts, forcing their prisoner to take a few resistant steps.

Knefler looked at the two Generals in the room, saluted and said, "I will let you know when we have finished." Then looking at the doctor questioned, "You will be available, Herr Doctor?"

Schmidt nodded.

Hogan twisted in the guards grip and called back over his shoulder as he was hustled toward the door, "Krantz, ask all the questions you want, but keep your hands off of my men. The Geneva Convention…"

"Has no ruling in matters of espionage," Krantz finished, as Hogan was forced out of the room.

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Standing silently in an alcove, a pair of eyes assessed the situation as the American Colonel was ushered down the hall. What a busy room! It looks like flies swarming around raw meat. Captain Krantz's logic is leading him dangerously close to the truth, if his presence here means what I think it means. The silhouette in the shadows watched as the Nazis and their victim disappeared down the hall.

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As soon as Knefler and Hogan had exited Kaltenbrunner turned to Schmidt, "When will we know if the medicine you gave him works?"

The doctor opened his eyes a little wider as he considered the question, "If it doesn't work his fever will spike, his skin will become cold, clammy and pale and then take on a bluish hue as he becomes delirious and unresponsive. Next his internal organs will shut down and death will follow."

Schmidt scanned the officers' stunned expressions before continuing. "If it works, I would expect his fever to break and the skin around the wound to become less red and swollen. It would be good to see him breakout in a sweat and his body work to lower his temperature.

But right now, his fever is pounding inside of his head. He probably would like nothing better than to lie down and sleep.

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Wilson finished placing a stitch in a deep cut on Newkirk's forehead just at the hairline. "Nothing to serious, keep it clean and it should heal up fine."

Nodding, Newkirk looked at the cell door, "Can I put you in my pocket for later, after Krantz comes back?"

Wilson glanced at LeBeau and then back at Newkirk, "If you two will keep your mouths shut, and not follow the lead of your Commanding Officer by antagonizing the German Captain, you may get through this a little easier," Wilson scolded. Wilson shook his head as the Englishman turned and paced away. Sighing inwardly, the medic added, "Maybe Krantz won't come back."

"Oui, and maybe Hitler will drop dead tomorrow!" LeBeau, having been visited by Joe first, was lying on his bunk watching and listening.

"Is there anything you want me to pass on to Kinch?" Wilson asked, trying to turn his feelings of helplessness into something constructive.

"Yeah, tell him to get us the bloody 'ell out of here." Newkirk stuck his hands in his back pockets as he turned back to face Wilson.

Joe looked at Newkirk and nodded. "I'm sure he would if he could."

"Sorry. I know he would. I guess being locked up in here waiting for Krantz to return is getting to me. We'll be okay. Right Louis? Louis?"

Newkirk and Wilson looked over at LeBeau and heard the sounds of light snoring.

"Blimey, e's drifted off to sleep. Would I had his nerves!"

Wilson smiled, "That's how some people cope. Which isn't a bad thing. You should try to get some rest yourself."

"Right."

Wilson stood to leave. "We'll try to keep you informed about whats going on. Maybe we can at least cut down on the surprises."

Newkirk placed his coping mechanism, a cigarette, in his mouth and lit a match. Blowing out a trail of smoke, he nodded, "Thank's, Joe."

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Wilson entered back into the compound and took a good look around at his fellow prisoners.

He appreciated the sacrifices the men in this Stalag were willing to make. Especially when they had the means to escape. What instills such dedication and conviction of purpose that good men are willing risk everything?

And then it donned on him. Maybe, it's because they've caught a glimpse of what the world could become if they don't.

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The barracks was quiet without his buddies and the young American Sergeant was feeling gloomy. He had done everything he could think of to pass the time. He had organized his foot locker, stoked the stove, swept out the barracks, and straightened LeBeau and Newkirk's bunks.

Carter was now lying on his bed, wondering when the Colonel would get back to get Newkirk and LeBeau out of the cooler, when the tunnel entrance popped open and Baker stuck his head out.

"Carter, Kinch says to go get Olsen and report to him in the radio room, on the double. He has a job for you!"

Carter almost fell onto the floor in his eagerness to get to his feet. "What's up?"

"There's no time, hurry, he'll tell you when you get there."