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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"Bad luck, gov'nor," Newkirk said as the men huddled by the entry to the motor pool, waiting for the equipment needed to clear the entry. "Having that code book right in your hands and not being able to take it."
"Hochstetter practically begged me to read it," Hogan answered, still simmering. "If only I hadn't lost hold of it in the first place!"
"At least you got the punishment reduced," Carter said, trying to put a positive spin on things. He hopped from foot to foot, trying to keep warm in the continuing snowfall.
"Yeah, but Hochstetter's right," Hogan said, his mind still stuck on what had transpired in Klink's office; "this is only going to make it worse for our boys. And now he's going to take it right out of Stalag 13 and back to Berlin where they'll eat it right up."
Newkirk shook his head. "Well, London already knows it's lost, so they should be getting the word out for nobody to use it."
"Right," Hogan answered, preoccupied. "Unless…"
"Unless what, Colonel?" Le Beau didn't stop stomping his feet as he spoke. "Don't tell me; let me guess. You're thinking of a way to take the book from Hochstetter, right?"
"Not quite. We want Hochstetter to keep his precious little book."
Hogan barely registered the looks of disbelief around him. "Keep it?" Kinch echoed. "But Colonel, even an old code book has its uses—it can help the Krauts figure out how we come up with our ciphers!"
"But this time it might be worth our while. After all, we need that diversion for the Leipzig raid, right?" The others murmured agreement. "Why not let them create it themselves?"
Carter wiped the snow off his face and gave Hogan a puzzled look. "Let them create it themselves? How are you gonna get them to do that?"
Hogan smiled, finally starting to feel comfortable with the unplanned turn of events. "Simple. We'll get Hochstetter to stay a little longer than he planned. Then we'll photograph the code book and transmit orders for a phony bombing mission. The Krauts will think they have classified information and scramble around protecting the decoy…. Meanwhile, our boys are turning the real target into a pile of rubble."
Kinch nodded. "What about London? Orders are 'radio silence,' remember?"
Hogan shrugged. "The least they can do is let me make up for my blunder," he said wryly. He paused. "Heck, maybe I could convince them that I meant for it to happen just so we could use it against the Nazis."
"Hochstetter's not the type to stay for afternoon tea, Colonel. How are we gonna keep him here?" Kinch asked.
Hogan answered the Sergeant's question by turning to Newkirk. "Newkirk? How long would it take to loosen the transmission drain plug on Hochstetter's car?"
The Englishman thought a moment, then shrugged. "It'll take longer to get under the car than to do the job. A couple of turns with a spanner, and it's done."
Hogan nodded. "Do it. The rest of us will cover you. Le Beau, strudel and hot coffee duty, and make it quick. We've only got a few minutes before Hochstetter tries to beat it out of here."
Newkirk put on a grin of mock innocence. "So the idea is to finally put an end to him and take the code book from the wreckage? Can't say I'm not happy about that idea, sir."
"No, Newkirk, that's not the idea," Hogan said. "If the code book is stolen, the Germans won't be able to use it either. We just want him to come back here with it. Make sure the car breaks down within walking distance of camp. With this snow he probably won't be getting very far anyway. Then we'll get to work."
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"Kamerade! Kamerade!" Bundled up as warmly as possible, Le Beau approached the guard standing shivering near Hochstetter's car outside Klink's office. "Hot coffee. Strudel!" he said, offering up a flask and a plate.
The solider saw the food and smiled broadly. "Danke." he said. "Danke!"
Le Beau led him up the steps, gesturing that he should eat under cover, and he turned so the guard had to face away from the car to get the snack. "There you go; have some of this," Le Beau continued, making sure to keep the man's attention on him alone. "Just because we are enemies doesn't mean we cannot be friends!"
Newkirk glanced around the motor pool, then ducked into the tool shed long enough to slip a couple of wrenches into his pocket. Arms wrapped around himself against the cold, he sauntered across the compound, trusting the heavy snowfall to cover his movements. He took a final look around, then dropped to the ground and slid under the car. A few moments later, he came back into the open, settling his overcoat back into place as he nonchalantly walked back to the others. That's got it then, he thought. Our friendly neighborhood Gestapo goon's not going too far today, at least not in that car.
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"There he goes," Carter said about twenty minutes later.
Hogan had shoveled along with his men in a vain attempt to keep warm. Now, he looked up from his work and turned toward the fence. Hochstetter's car was making its way slowly out of the gate, a difficult task as the snow was falling more heavily now, and even with Hogan and his men shoveling, there seemed to be no progress in clearing the way for the truck to get out of the motor pool. "Okay, that's got that started. Newkirk, you're sure everything's ready to fall apart on him?"
Newkirk stuck his shovel into a pile of snow, leaning against the handle to catch his breath. "There was already some transmission fluid seeping out while the car was still parked, Colonel. If you figure that it'll start leaking even faster once everything warms up... I'd say he's gonna be on shank's mare sometime in the next half hour at the latest."
Newkirk looked pleased with the assessment. And Hogan didn't look disappointed either. So why couldn't Carter figure out if Newkirk was saying yes or no? "A shank's mare?" he asked. "I didn't know we were bringing in horses," he said. "What if Hochstetter just takes the horse into town instead of coming back here?"
"Oh, blimey, Andrew. Where would we get horses in the middle of a ruddy prison camp?" Newkirk gave Carter a pained look. "Being on shank's mare means you're walking, as in you're riding on your own shanks instead of a horse." He rolled his eyes. Is it all Yanks, or just Carter that don't speak the King's ruddy English? "And before you ask, your shanks are your legs. Got it now, mate?"
"Don't worry, Andre, he talks like that just to confuse people. I do not understand him most of the time either," Le Beau said.
"Very funny, mate. As if anyone can understand you when you start spouting off in French." Newkirk chuckled and shook his head.
Hogan smiled as his men fell back into their usual banter. He tried to warm his hands by rubbing them together but realized it wasn't making a difference, and that he couldn't feel his cheeks any more. "Come on fellas," he said through the increasing wind. "We've done our bit here."
"But Colonel, we haven't even made a dent in this snow!" Le Beau said.
"And from this weather it doesn't look like we're going to. Let's get inside before we freeze off something important. I'll let Klink rake me over the coals for it later—maybe I'll be lucky enough to be in the office with him when Hochstetter comes back. And if not, I'll find a reason to be in there anyway."
"Sounds good, gov'nor. Besides, if we stay out here much longer, we'll lose Le Beau in a snow drift."
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"We've got to find a way to get to that codebook once Hochstetter brings it back. Guaranteed he's going to be guarding it with his life—or ours, if we try to get near it." Hogan paced back and forth in front of the small stove in the common room of the barracks. Dots of water were forming on his jacket where the snow had melted once they came inside, and the front of his dark hair was matted down onto his forehead as a small trickle of water made its way uncomfortably down his neck. He shivered and grabbed a cup of coffee. "We're only going to have one chance; we have to get it right."
"Reckon he'll put it back in Klink's safe?" Newkirk looked up from the steaming cup he had cradled in his hands. As cold as he was in his wool overcoat, he suddenly realized that Hogan had to be colder still, with only a leather jacket. The American had never complained about being cold, but Newkirk resolved to hunt up enough wool material to make a liner for the Colonel's coat.
"That's the logical place for it," Hogan agreed, nodding. "Unless he's planning to sleep with it under his pillow. And even I don't want to get near him if he does that." Hogan chuckled and sat down at the table with the others. "We're going to need to get into the safe, and he's bound to have it guarded. We'll need—"
"Another diversion," Carter finished. Hogan paused mid-sentence and looked at the Sergeant, surprised. Carter grinned sheepishly. "I—I knew you were gonna say that," he added. "Well I mean, that's what we do, isn't it?" he continued.
Hogan grinned softly. "Yeah, Carter. That's what we do." He took a long drink of coffee and let the steam start to thaw his cheeks. "When's the last time the combination was changed on Klink's safe?"
"Well, the locksmith was in last week when I was on cleaning duty, and he took an awfully long time working on the safe." Kinch stopped to think for a moment, then continued. "I was waiting in the outer office at least an hour before he left, then Klink let me in to finish up."
Hogan frowned. "Newkirk, could that be a problem?"
The Englishman didn't answer right away. Then he let out a long sigh and nodded. "That's enough time to have completely changed the entire lock mechanism. Depending on what he did exactly, I might need at least ten, maybe fifteen minutes alone with it."
"Boy, that's gonna call for a heck of a diversion!" Carter looked around the table at the others as they stared sullenly at the table. "But like the Colonel said, that's what we do, right?" No one answered. "Right?"
It was Hogan's turn to sigh. "Right," he said quietly. He held the coffee cup tightly in his hands, clearly deep in thought.
"Hey, I know! We can start a fire way down on the other end of camp. That'll take a while to put out, and at least we can keep warm while we're distracting the guards!" Carter grinned proudly.
Kinch shook his head. "I hate to burst your bubble, Andrew, but that won't work. With all the snow we're having, there isn't anything dry enough to set on fire and expect it to keep burning long enough for Newkirk to get in and out of Klink's office."
Hogan shook his head. "Never mind, fellas." He let out a loud breath, resigned. "It's too dangerous; I'll do it myself. We can't take a chance on any of you men getting caught." Hogan stood up to preempt any protests. "I'm gonna go get a dry shirt." He turned toward his office. "You'd better do the same," he added, obviously uncomfortable. "Otherwise you'll all get pneumonia and I'll be working by myself for the rest of the war."
Hogan's men watched silently as the door to their commanding officer's quarters closed behind him. "And what happens if he gets caught?" Kinch asked no one in particular.
Newkirk stared hard at the door, in his mind seeing the man behind it. "Then he's volunteered himself for a blind date with the ruddy firing squad."
Le Beau's eyes held a worried look. "Without us as chaperones."
