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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Newkirk stopped beside his bunk, leaning against it as he started to take off his boots. Just as he had the laces undone, he heard the low rumble of a truck in the compound. Frowning, he went around to the barracks door, opening it just enough to get a look outside. A pair of the tower searchlights had a half-ton truck pinned down with their beams, and Newkirk could see two German soldiers just getting out of the cab. They took a quick look around, one pointed to the sign on the outside of Klink's office, and the two men went to the building. One of the camp guards met them at the foot of the stairs leading into the Kommandant's office and stood talking to the new arrivals. After a minute, one of them showed the guard a bundle from which a small parachute hung. The guard nodded and escorted them into the building.
"Blimey!" Newkirk breathed aloud. "All bets are off about what that is." Hesitating only for a split second, he silently closed the door and made his way back to Hogan's room. He opened the door without knocking, expecting Hogan to still be awake. Instead, he heard the quiet, steady breathing of a long-awaited rest.
Newkirk glanced at the sleeping man as he turned on the desk lamp. "Colonel Hogan?" he whispered. No response. He set the coffee pot in its usual place, plugging it in but not taking off the lid. Thanks to Kinch's clever electronics work, the ordinary-looking appliance had taken on another function: that of serving as the receiver and speaker for the microphone hidden in the Kommandant's office.
Newkirk returned to the bunk, hesitating. "I hate to do this, but you've gotta hear what's happening." He reached down to tap Hogan's leg sharply; it was never a good idea to grab at a sleeping man's shoulder, unless you wanted him to come up swinging. "Wake up, gov'nor. There's something going on in Klink's office."
Newkirk turned as Hogan stirred slightly and went back to the coffee pot, removing the lid and pulling out the percolator basket so they could listen in on the conversation that would inevitably take place as soon as Klink could be roused enough to speak coherently. He was about to turn back to the bunk to make sure Hogan was getting up when he felt himself pulled from behind by the neck, and something cold was pressed up against his throat. Instinctively, Newkirk arched his back and stiffened. "It's me! It's me, gov'nor! It's Newkirk!"
The grip around Newkirk's neck immediately loosened and the blade that had been up against his jugular disappeared into the darkness. Newkirk relaxed and took a couple of gulping breaths.
Hogan shook his head and tossed the knife on the table. "Good grief, Corporal, don't you know how to knock?"
Newkirk stepped away from Hogan, one hand going up to rub his throat. "Sorry, sir, but there's no time for that. A couple of Krauts just went into Klink's office. I think they have the code book." He held out his hands, measuring the size of the bundle he'd seen. "They were carrying a package about this big, and it had a small drop 'chute still attached."
"Sounds like a winner," Hogan replied grimly. He braced his arms on his desk and started listening. "They get Klink up from his beauty sleep yet?"
"I don't think so. Hadn't heard anything before you—well, before you woke up." Newkirk shook his head. "Do you always wake up so ruddy mean?" He rubbed his throat again, trying to rid himself of the feeling of the blade against his neck. Hogan's move had been completely unexpected, driving Newkirk's respect for the American officer up another notch. It was good to know the Colonel could take care of himself like that; it was the sort of information that might be useful some day.
"Only when I'm not at home or at the Y," Hogan quipped. "If they've got that code book, we might have a chance of getting it back. But we're going to have to be careful about it—or we'll have the Gestapo breathing down our necks."
Hogan stopped talking and slid onto the stool as he heard a door slam through the speaker. "Lieutenant, what is the meaning of this?" Hogan shook his head; Klink was in self-righteous mode. "Don't you know what time it is?"
"Herr Kommandant, we recovered this in the woods tonight while on patrol. It came from an Allied plane. Stalag 13 is the nearest military installation, and we needed to get it someplace safe."
Hogan nodded grimly. "Yeah, that's the code book, all right," he confirmed. Concentrating, he didn't take notice as the door to his office opened wider, and three other people moved in to surround him and Newkirk, their eyes betraying their surprise at finding the Englishman fully dressed and the commanding officer wide awake, obviously at work.
Newkirk glanced up as the others filed into the room. He started to make a comment, but stopped as Klink's voice came across the speaker once more. "Well now, what exactly is it you have there, Lieutenant?" There was a soft rustling sound, and Klink could be heard muttering to himself as he obviously looked over the prize. "Very interesting. It seems to be some sort of code book... written in English! Well, I'll just put it in my safe and figure out what to do with it in the morning. Good work, Lieutenant; I'll see that you and your partner get mentioned in my report."
"How do you like that?" Hogan declared, shaking his head. "Those poor flatfoots make the find of a lifetime, and Klink says he'll mention them in his report!"
Newkirk chuckled briefly. "That's our Kommandant for you. When you think on it, they're lucky that he's even gonna bother." The smile faded from his face as he looked at Hogan. "Well, sir, now we know for sure where it is."
"Where what is?" piped up Carter.
Hogan frowned as he heard Klink dismiss the men, then listened to make sure he didn't make any phone calls. Klink merely hummed maddeningly as he opened and shut the safe, and left the office. "Le Beau, make sure he's gone," Hogan said.
"Oui, Colonel," the French Corporal answered. He zipped out of the room and to the front door of the barracks.
"Colonel? What's going on?" Sergeant James Kinchloe decided to take a chance on asking the question, although he wasn't entirely sure he wanted an answer.
Hogan unplugged the coffee pot and leaned back with a sigh before turning to face the Sergeant. "Klink is now the proud owner of our brand new code book from London."
Louis Le Beau came back into the room. "Lights out, Colonel."
"Code book?" Kinch frowned. "You don't mean the one you went out after tonight… do you?"
Hogan exhaled loudly as he prepared to once again report his failure. "That's exactly the one I mean," he said. "There were patrols at the drop site. I couldn't get to it before they did."
"Gosh, Colonel, it sounds like you were lucky to make it back in one piece!" Carter gave Hogan a close look, then nodded to himself. At least the Colonel looked like he was all in one piece. "So how are we gonna get it back?"
"I'll just pop on over to Klink's office, after he's had a chance to get back to bed." Newkirk smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Give me five minutes, Colonel, and I'll have that code book back."
"No, that won't work," Hogan said with a quick shake of his head. "Klink's already had a good look at it. He's a lot of things, but he's no goldfish. He'll remember what he saw. We're going to have to find another way. Intercept it while it's in transit to Berlin, before they have a chance to work with it. We'll have to listen in to Klink's office and find out when it's getting picked up. Kinch, contact London and the Underground. No one transmits using the new code; it's too dangerous." Hogan paused and bowed his head slightly. "And thanks to me, we wouldn't have any idea what they were talking about if they did."
"Colonel, it's not your fault," Le Beau spoke up, putting as much confidence in his voice as he could. "You only had two choices: let it go, or get captured by les Boches. Don't worry; we'll get it back."
Hogan shrugged, unconvinced. "Yeah. Whatever the reason, we're still in the same boat. I'm going to have to think about this one, fellas. Klink says he won't deal with it until the morning—and he's a man of his word when it comes to procrastinating. So after Kinch finishes up on the radio I want you all to hit the sack. We're going to be busy tomorrow."
The men nodded and turned to leave. Hogan suddenly stopped them. "And one other thing."
Newkirk had waited for the others to leave first, which left him still deep in the room when they turned back. He'd caught their looks when they first came in, and suddenly felt the urge to melt into the shadows. He forced himself not to move; Hogan had said he was a part of the group again, and it was time to act like it.
Hogan waited until all eyes were on him before continuing. "There've been a lot of bad feelings going around this place in the last three weeks." He paused. Le Beau's head dropped down; Kinch seemed to need to look all around the room; Carter just looked straight at the Colonel. "I'm not saying there haven't been reasons for it, but it's time to put it behind us." He paused and looked fleetingly at Newkirk, who was standing, eyes downcast, close enough for Hogan to feel the man's breath on his neck. "Newkirk's learned his lesson. He made a mistake and he paid for it. We're all okay. Let it go."
Newkirk didn't move. He could hear the conviction in Hogan's voice, but it was up to the others to accept the Colonel's words. He prayed each man could find it in his heart to forgive the past, but as the silence lengthened, the doubts and fears of the long days and nights came back into his mind.
Carter was the first to speak. "Well… I guess we have been kinda hard on ya, Newkirk," he said, shifting feet and not really looking at the Englishman.
"Yeah," Kinch added. "I mean we were all pretty shaken up when we found out your lady friend was a member of the Gestapo. But… we've all done crazy things, and I guess you just had to have your turn."
Newkirk started to find it easier to breathe as the pair spoke. Hogan nodded approvingly. Then their eyes turned to Le Beau, who was standing, arms crossed, with a stern expression on his face as he stared at the floor. He didn't speak. Hogan prompted him. "Le Beau?"
The Frenchman tilted his head from side to side, as though debating something to himself. "Oui, I have also done stupid things in the name of l'amour," he admitted finally. He looked at Newkirk. "I am sorry, Pierre. I have been very unkind."
Newkirk raised his head, taking a long moment to look each man in the eyes. "I... I'm sorry, too, mates," he said quietly. "I let you down once. But I swear to you now that it'll never happen again."
The Englishman slowly moved out from behind Hogan, and in that same moment, Le Beau also moved forward. Newkirk smiled as his eyes met those of the little Frenchman, and Le Beau suddenly grabbed him in a rough embrace. Newkirk felt himself breathing easy once again, as Kinch and Carter also stepped in to draw him back into their circle of friendship.
"I hate to break this up," Hogan said soon after, "but roll call's in about an hour, and our Kraut den mother really should find us in our bunks when he comes waltzing through the front door."
Carter chuckled. "Okay, Colonel. You coming, Newkirk?" he asked hopefully, relieved that he found it comfortable to speak to his friend again.
"You lot go on," Newkirk answered, giving Le Beau a gentle push toward the door. "I just need a quick word with the gov'nor."
The others filed out, and Newkirk turned to face Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, I'd just like to say thank you. For everything." Before the American could respond, Newkirk did something he had rarely even considered: he came to attention and offered Hogan a perfect salute.
Hogan's eyes registered his surprise and appreciation. "Careful, Corporal," Hogan said, straightening as he returned the gesture; "my eagles might just get used to that kind of treatment." He smiled softly, pleased to see things back to normal among his crew. "Now get outta here, before I fall asleep sitting up. We'll sort out the real problems in the morning."
