No ownership of the Hogan's Hero's characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended.
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"I'm going to need you to teach me how to break into that safe," Hogan said to Newkirk in his office about an hour later. Newkirk stood hunched over the table with Hogan at the desk, a stethoscope, kerchief, and other small items assembled before them. Newkirk was listening intently. "Kinch says Klink might have had the combination changed, so I'm not going to count on being able to use the one we've got. I need to know how to get in to whatever it is we've got facing us now."
Newkirk picked up the stethoscope and began fiddling with the bell, checking to see that it was tightly screwed in place as he thought about how to respond. I've watched your hands when we play poker…. You might have the raw talent, but you haven't got the 'touch' yet to do the work we're talking about here. Newkirk sighed inwardly. Still, I just don't have it in me to cut you down like that, gov'nor. Not now. Not in the middle of a mission. Finally, he realized he wasn't doing his duty if he didn't help Hogan realize that what he was asking just not possible—at least not within the next few hours.
"Right then, gov'nor," Newkirk said brightly. "Without having a look, mind you, I'd have to say that we're still up against a standard combination lock. Of course, since it's new, it's going to be both smooth and silent." He laid the stethoscope back on the table. "Makes it obvious what that's for."
Hogan nodded, trying to appear confident. "Being able to hear the tumblers hit their targets, right?"
"That's right. Every lock's got its own sound, but you can hear the difference when you've hit a number."
Hogan nodded. "Go on."
"Of course, the problem with that is sometimes, you just can't hear the lock, even with a stethoscope. Lots of reasons for that, like in this case it might be the lock being brand new. That's when you've got to be able to feel the numbers instead." Newkirk held out his hand, turning it so that Hogan could see his fingertips clearly. The rest of the hand was roughened from working around camp, but it was obvious that he'd taken care to keep his fingers from developing calluses. "Let's see your 'and, then."
Hogan frowned in concentration and extended his own hand beside Newkirk's, comparing every minute detail. He noted with some dissatisfaction that his hands had obviously not been as well looked after as the Englishman's: he had never paid particular attention to them, and after the hard work shoveling today, he had added a couple of fairly large, painful blisters to his palm. He grimaced as he opened his hand wide, stretching the taut skin.
"That could be a bit of a problem, but we'll see." Newkirk frowned at the blisters. They had to hurt, and what he was about to do wouldn't help matters. He pulled the precious shilling he always carried with him from his pocket and started running it through his fingers. Moving it slowly at first, he picked up speed until it practically danced back and forth across his hand.
Hogan just tilted his head and watched the performance. "Nice trick. Do you pull rabbits out of hats, too?" he asked, forcing a bit of lightness into his voice as he absorbed the enormity of what he was preparing to do.
"I've been known to on occasion. I like pulling out flowers better, though. They don't bite, and they don't leave any stray hairs on your sleeve." Newkirk grinned, then flipped the coin at Hogan. "Your turn, sir."
Hogan arched an eyebrow, then winced as he caught the shilling tightly in his blistered hand. "This isn't about coin tricks, Newkirk," he said. "I can't play with coins. I can learn to trip the safe."
Newkirk shook his head and moved away from the table to lean against the post supporting the bunk bed. He crossed his arms over his chest, taking time to gather his thoughts before responding. After a long silence, he looked at Hogan. "How long did it take you to learn how to fly a B-17, Colonel?"
Hogan thought back to his training days at the base back in the States. It all seemed so far away, he could barely imagine it was less than a lifetime ago. "Nine weeks pre-flight, nine hours with instructors, then sent out with a crew chief," he answered. To himself he added, Never on our own. "But this is different. I'm not carrying a dozen five-hundred pound bombs with wing tanks full of fuel and Kraut planes flying at me from all directions."
"Hold on there and let me finish." The words may have been a little abrupt, but the tone wasn't. Still, there was something different about the way the Englishman was speaking. The man who usually ensured he wasn't in charge of anything was starting to sound like a leader as he continued. "And before that, you spent time in what? Twin engine planes? Single engine? Then top it off by going all the way back to flight school. Pretty easy to say you've got years invested in learning how to pilot your Flying Fortress. Right?"
Hogan nodded, unhappy with the way Newkirk was turning this around. "Yeah, I guess you could put it that way," he said as he exhaled loudly.
"Now, without telling too many tales on myself, Colonel, I think it's safe to say that I'd already been practicing the cracksman's arts for a while by the time you were trying out for the school football team." Newkirk looked directly at Hogan. "One of the first things I was taught, long before I ever went on my first job, was how to 'play with coins.' It's marvelous for working on your flexibility and for teaching your fingers how to see what your eyes can't."
Hogan sighed and stared at the coin in his hand. "So what you're trying to tell me is, this is like trying to fly a real airplane after building a model at home."
"Do you remember those bloody stupid 'tests' we did with that Kraut flight trainer when you decided to steal a German bomber for that run over the factory at Stuttheim? Would you say that after that, I'm qualified to sit in the left front seat of a B-17? Or that I'd be able to do anything other than crack it up on takeoff?"
Hogan shook his head. "No." He turned away and headed for his window, an absentminded gesture as it was closed and shuttered to keep out some of the freezing cold that penetrated the room so easily through the less-than-perfectly fitted boards that made up the walls of the barracks. "But it doesn't make a difference, Newkirk," he said, concentrating a bit too intently on seeing through the cracks to the outside. "My orders are the same: you, and the others, stay out of it. You can create a diversion for me, but the responsibility of getting to that safe is mine alone." His eyes dropped from the wall and he seemed to be addressing the floor. "The less involved you are, the less chance you have of being shot if something goes wrong. And it might."
Hogan paused, wanting to explain his own fears but unwilling to burden one of his men with them. Instead, after a long pause, he said quietly. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Corporal, and it's not that I don't trust you and the others to do the job. I just can't take a chance on losing you."
Newkirk nodded, pondering everything Hogan did—and did not—say. "We don't want to lose you either, sir," he replied softly. Hogan didn't answer. Newkirk could feel the man's discomfort. The Corporal sighed and gave Hogan a long look. "Truth is, gov'nor," he resumed, his voice a bit louder, "there's just no way I can teach you what you need to know in the next few hours. You can't learn it that fast; no one can. There comes a time when you just have to call in an expert." He paused, giving time for his words to sink in, then went on. "One more thing. That shilling," he gestured to the coin still in Hogan's hand. "Alfie Burke gave that to me back when I did my first job with him, and I've kept it ever since. Even kept it through Wetzler. Now you hold on to it awhile, and think about what I've said. Then if you're still convinced you can do the job, I'll do everything I can to help you pull it off." Even though it means I'm the one putting you in front of that ruddy firing squad.
Hogan didn't turn back to the Englishman, and instead just let the coin roll through his fingers. He was clumsy at it, he admitted to himself. His hands were made for throttles and levers, not tumblers and stethoscopes. But he didn't want his men involved in this one. He had let enough bad things happen this time around already; he didn't want to make matters worse by bringing the Gestapo down on all of them. A failed attempt and they could all be shot as spies and saboteurs. He didn't doubt his ability to stand up under intense and physical interrogation; no, Hogan had already proven to himself that he could withstand the unendurable and still not crack. But if Hochstetter even suspected that Hogan wasn't working alone, he wouldn't give up until all of Hogan's men paid the price along with him. And that would carry a more unbearable guilt than losing the code book ever could.
Hogan held the coin up in front of his face and studied it. "Okay," he said finally. He turned back toward Newkirk, still holding up the coin. "I get your point. I'll let you do the light-fingered work. But you'll do it under my direct order or you won't do it at all." Hogan surprised Newkirk by pulling a particularly deft move with the shilling before flicking it back toward the Englishman. "Got it?"
Newkirk blinked in surprise as he snatched the coin from the air. "Yes, gov'nor." Looks like the old Papa Bear has a few tricks up his own sleeve.
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Hogan looked carefully from one man to the other, searching their eyes, as he did each time, for signs of fear. There was always an edge to the jobs that they did, some sharper than others, but never without risk. This time, he was reluctantly letting the men in on a job where an already-suspicious member of the Gestapo was right in their midst, watching for any sign of foul play, and ready to put any one of them in front of a firing squad. Normally, he would give thought to the danger, then leave it in the back of his mind, using his concerns to help shape the assignments he gave to his men; this time, it sat in the foreground, jabbing at his conscience along with the memory of seeing the code book land in that German SS man's hands. And he regretted having to involve the men at all in something that wouldn't have to be done if he had succeeded in his mission in the first place.
"I'll be keeping Klink and Hochstetter busy in the Rec Hall. If Hochstetter doesn't fall asleep on the movie, I'll keep him away from Klink's office. Le Beau, you got your strudel all ready?"
"Oui, Colonel. I made enough for us as well." Le Beau smiled. It had taken almost all of his supply of sugar, but he was determined that at least this time, his friends would get a share.
"Good. I've talked Klink into putting Schultz on duty tonight as punishment for not keeping us in line at roll call." Kinch shook his head. Hogan shrugged. "Carter, make sure you give enough incendiaries to Kinch for him to set up a nice big diversion somewhere away from Klink's office. Make sure you keep a couple for yourself in case you need to get out fast. Newkirk will pop the safe, you take the photos, then you put it back and don't wait for an invitation. Understood?"
Carter bobbed his head. "I've got some smoke bombs ready, Colonel," he said.
Hogan nodded. "Kinch? I need you to find the Byron Buckles film that hambone sent us."
"You mean the one we hid so no one made us watch it?" Kinch asked wryly.
"That's the one."
"I thought we were saving that for a rainy day."
"We had plenty of rain about a month ago," Carter observed.
"Not enough to show a Byron Buckles movie," Le Beau muttered.
"You'd need the ruddy second flood of Noah, mate," Newkirk added.
"It doesn't matter," Hogan said over the grumbling. "Klink loves him, and that means the movie will keep his attention, at least long enough for you fellas to sneak out, do the job, and get back before Hochstetter notices. And be quick about it," he added sharply. "I'd rather you not be doing this at all."
Hogan's men felt his tension and nodded quietly. "We'll be ready, Colonel," Le Beau declared.
Hogan nodded. "Good. Set your watches. This all kicks off in two hours."
Hogan took a last long look at his men and headed for his quarters, leaving the others to watch after him. "D'you reckon you could make a nice plum pudding next time, Louis?" Newkirk asked, as he headed for the tunnel with Kinch and Carter. The others chuckled as a stream of French invectives met their ears.
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"The timing's gonna be close on this one, Kinch," Newkirk said, watching the Sergeant dig under the radio desk for the hidden movie.
"It sure is," Kinch agreed, his head disappearing.
"The Colonel was gonna go at it on 'is own, y'know." Newkirk watched Kinch pull out a film reel and have a quick look at it. "He really expected me to teach him everything about safe cracking in a couple of hours so he could keep us as far out of it as possible."
Kinch blew some dust off the container. "That's crazy!" he said, surprised.
"I finally convinced him to do his best trick—keeping the goons occupied—while I do mine and have a bit of a private chat with Klink's safe." The Englishman leaned against a roof support beam and shook his head.
Kinch sat down at the desk. "Still, it means he's worried. You saw him upstairs. We'd better make sure we're extra careful. He doesn't need any more gray hairs on our account."
"Right. Makes me glad I got through to him." Newkirk didn't add that just the thought of Hogan trying to crack his first safe under these conditions was bound to give the Corporal more than a few gray hairs of his own.
A rattling noise drew both men's attention down the tunnel, where they saw Carter approaching with a double-armload of incendiaries. The young Sergeant's face was lit up like that of a child that's been given a present. "Think these'll be enough smoke bombs, guys?"
Kinch looked at the homemade devices and chuckled. "The idea, Andrew, is to create a diversion, not to smoke out every rat in camp!"
"No, the idea is to keep the rats occupied with the Byron bloody Buckles picture instead." The Englishman grinned at the crestfallen look on Carter's face. "It'll be fine, mate. In and out, ten minutes tops."
Carter put the rest of his load on the table beside Kinch. "I've made up about a half dozen for you, Kinch, and I packed two small ones for myself. I'm gonna keep 'em in my pocket just in case me and Newkirk need to make a quick getaway."
"You know what part of this whole thing is bothering me now?" Newkirk gestured toward the box holding the film reel. "That we're gonna have to sit through the first fifteen minutes of that drivel before we can sneak out!"
