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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Hogan held up his hands as he took to the front of the room. The men crowded into the Recreation Hall quickly gave him their attention. "Okay, fellas, settle down…. Welcome to tonight's special feature," he said, warming up. Hogan's eyes expertly scanned the room as he spoke, making brief contact with Newkirk, who was sitting behind the projector, and Kinch, who was standing near the window behind the crowd. Carter and Le Beau, he knew, were out getting their own parts in this caper ready. "As you all know, our camp was lucky enough to have the famous Byron Buckles as a co-prisoner for awhile." He raised an eyebrow, and the pre-organized murmurs of delight rippled through the room. "Well, the old Belt Buckle himself was kind enough to send us his latest film, 'Blondes and Bombshells: A Pilot's Story.'" Hogan swallowed hard; he'd have preferred taking a chance on the Germans to sitting through this B-movie reject. But this was his expertise: being the master manipulator; he had to let the others use their special skills as well. Hogan raised a hand again to bring the chatter to a halt. "We're lucky enough to have with us tonight, two very special guests—" Hogan swept his hand toward the front of the crowd. "Our very own beloved Kommandant, Wilhelm Klink, and everyone's favorite member of the Gestapo, Major Hochstetter."
Polite applause worked its way through the room. "As we all know, the Kommandant handed down disciplinary orders because of our own inappropriate behavior during roll call. However, he was big enough… generous enough… to lift that punishment, as our Red Cross packages have been delayed. And morale among prisoners must be maintained."
"Let's hear it for the Kommandant!" shouted Newkirk from the back of the room. Hogan nodded briefly for the men to take part in the cheers. Klink smiled, desperately proud but trying to show only modesty to the men. Beside him, Hochstetter shook his head, disgusted.
Klink stood up and acknowledged the men with a brief wave of one hand. Hogan was about to call for the lights to be put out, when the Kommandant began a speech of his own. "Gentlemen, I want you to know that as your Kommandant, I am pleased to be here tonight at Colonel Hogan's invitation." Hochstetter raised his eyes to the ceiling; for once, Hogan agreed with him. "As you know, it is my job to enforce discipline in this camp. But I would not be the fine leader that I am, if I did not listen to the needs of the prisoners. And so I am pleased—humbled—to be among you tonight—"
"Thank you, Kommandant," Hogan interrupted. At Hogan's signal, Kinch flicked off the lights before Klink could protest further, and Klink sat back down, hardly realizing what had happened. Hogan took a seat to the left of Klink, on the outer aisle, so he could keep an eye on what was going on. Hochstetter sat uncomfortably on Klink's right, his fist digging into his cheek as he leaned his elbow on his thigh. Hochstetter was going to take some watching, Hogan decided. Yes… a lot of watching tonight.
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Le Beau gave his scarf a final turn around his neck and picked up the plate and thermos. "Ok, Andre, I'm off to feed the animals. Give me a few minutes to get their attention, then you come on out."
Carter grinned as he checked his pockets to make sure everything was in place: smoke bombs—just his; Kinch had the others hidden in his own pockets—camera, lucky rabbit's foot. "I'll be ready, boy. You just say the word—or, well, I could say the word. I mean, I'll watch you, and then I'll get Kinch when everything's ready to go." He stopped, letting his face slide into an easy smile. "I guess I'm a little nervous."
The Frenchman shook his head and smiled gently. "You'll be fine. It's as you said, distractions are what we do."
Le Beau pulled the barracks door open and went into the darkness, dodging the searchlight beams with the ease of long practice until he got next to the Kommandant's office and saw Schultz standing, half asleep, on duty. Thank heaven for Colonel Hogan's powers of manipulation. "Psst! Hey, Schultz! It's me, Corporal Le Beau." He spoke just loudly enough to get the German's attention, but made sure his voice wouldn't carry out into the compound.
Schultz perked up a little when he heard the voice that usually accompanied late night treats meant just for him. "Cockroach, why aren't you at the movie?"
Le Beau shrugged. "I have never cared for ham," he said. "Schultzie," he said, moving in closer. "I brought you something special."
Schultz inhaled loudly in delighted surprise as Le Beau held up a plate covered in a red-and-white checkered cloth. "For me?" he said. "What is it? Why have you brought it to me? Oh, Le Beau," he added, suddenly frowning. "You are not up to any monkey business while the Kommandant and Major Hochstetter are at the Byron Buckles movie, are you?" he asked.
"Aww, come on, Schultzie." Le Beau put on his best hurt look. "I just thought you might be cold and hungry, and here you are, thinking I am up to something." He made as if to leave. "Fine, I'll just go back to the barracks then."
Schultz's hand stopping Le Beau nearly pulled the Frenchman off balance. "I'm sorry, Le Beau," the guard said, sounding more eager for a bite than truly penitent. "I should have known better. What have you brought me tonight?"
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Carter peered out the barracks door through the tiny crack he had allowed himself to see what was happening across the compound. He watched as Le Beau expertly led Schultz to the edge of the porch and the guard sat down heavily, facing away from the middle of the compound, and away from the window that he and Newkirk would crawl in through in mere minutes.
Timing the sweep from the lights in the guards' towers, Carter slipped outside and hopped from building to building, until he made it to the building opposite the Rec Hall. He looked back; Le Beau and Schultz were still engrossed in the food. In the hall, Kinch was leaning against the wall near the window, waiting.
Carter raised one arm in the darkness, watching to see that his signal was received. Looking back out, Kinch nodded vaguely and moved away from the window. Carter had checked that all was well to proceed to the nearby office; it was time to get moving. Looking over at Newkirk, the radio man took off his wool cap and ran his hand over his hair before setting the cap back in place.
Newkirk caught the signal and, nodding, stood up and slipped quietly out of the building.
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As Carter pulled the shade on Klink's office window, Le Beau's voice floated softly toward him. "Just a little more, Schultzie. Wait until you see what else I have cooked up for you!"
Schultz responded with sounds of delight. Carter grinned and turned back to Newkirk, nodding. Everything was ready.
Crouched by the safe, Newkirk rubbed his hands together, warming them up before giving the combination dial an experimental twist. As he'd suspected, the new lock was too smooth to simply feel the numbers click into place, so he pulled the stethoscope from his pocket. Newkirk settled the earpieces in place, gently put the bell over the lock and closed his eyes in concentration. At least I don't have to listen for the coppers this time around; my mate Carter's got my back. Flexing his fingers one last time, the safecracker began to work his brand of magic.
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Hogan stood up abruptly as Hochstetter rose from his seat. "Leaving so soon, Major?" Hogan asked, trying to block the officer's way.
"This is ridiculous, Hogan," Hochstetter said. "I find this movie to be puerile, infantile American propaganda."
Hogan shrugged innocently. "That's what Byron Buckles does best!"
"I cannot watch it." Hochstetter tried to move around Hogan, who kept changing positions to keep him in front of the room.
A tug on his coat from Klink startled Hochstetter. "Excuse me, Major, you are blocking the screen," the Kommandant said, craning to see around him.
Hochstetter pulled his arm up to get away from Klink. "Bah!" he cried. "I will get out of your way, Klink. Hogan, move or I will have you shot!"
"Okay," Hogan said, glancing back toward Kinch, who nodded and quickly left the building. He moved out of the way. Hochstetter started to storm down the aisle when Hogan stopped him. "Oh, Major!" he called. Hochstetter stopped and turned around. "Can I have your popcorn?"
As Hochstetter started to reply, the Rec Hall was plunged into darkness, and his words were lost in the loud slapping of a length of broken film against the back of the projector. Sergeant Bryan Olsen, who had fallen asleep five minutes into the picture, jumped from his seat and switched off the projector as someone else found the overhead light switch. Blinking at the sudden brightness, Olsen started rewinding the film back onto the proper reels.
Hochstetter turned and looked at the projector, then spun around to look at Hogan. "Where is the man who was running this film, Hogan?" he asked accusingly.
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Unaware of the new problem in the Rec Hall, Kinch moved stealthily away from the building so he could keep watch on what was happening in Klink's office. He could see Le Beau and Schultz still crouched over some culinary diversion. The shade was still drawn in Klink's office. Everything seemed to be going to plan. Still, he patted his pockets for the comfort of the six little devices Carter had supplied him with earlier, just in case he needed them. There were other guards in the camp besides Schultz, and not all of them could be distracted with strudel.
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"Kinch is outside waiting," Carter whispered, still keeping an eye outside while Newkirk worked the safe.
Newkirk jumped a bit and gave Carter a look of exasperation. "Blimey, mate!" he whispered. "Give me a bloomin' heart attack, why don't ya?"
Carter turned around, on the defensive. "Well, I was just tellin' ya that everything's going okay outside," he said. "I thought you'd want to know that!"
Newkirk sighed and leaned his head against the safe. "Right, Andrew. Didn't mean to snap at you that way." After a deep breath, he went back to work on the lock. Why does Carter always get to be the lookout? Quiet ol' Kinch'd sure be a lot easier on my nerves! "Look, mate, why don't you get your camera ready? We'll be needing it in no time."
Carter nodded and relaxed. "Right, Newkirk." He felt in his pockets for the things he had brought with him. There's the first smoke bomb... that's the camera. I'm sure I put film in it. I'll just check it for use in this low light. He dug a gloved hand in and groped around for the equipment, gripping hard and pulling when it seemed to get caught in the material. Suddenly smoked started snaking out of his jacket. He panicked silently, tugging harder and then realizing he had pulled the pin on one of his smoke bombs. "Newkirk!" he whispered urgently, trying to free the device before it actually damaged his clothing—or himself. "Newkirk! I set off a smoke bomb!"
"Bloody hell! Get rid of it, and fast!" Newkirk couldn't believe it. Four more numbers left on the lock, and Carter had to go and toss a spanner in the works.
Carter kept tugging, and finally his jacket let the bomb go. Smoke started filling the room. Carter coughed and his eyes started to water. Without thinking, he went to rub his eyes, dropping the device in the process. "Newkirk! I've dropped it!"
"Well where is it?" Newkirk answered, trying in vain to keep working the safe.
"I don't know; it fell down there somewhere!"
"Blimey, Carter, I can't take you anywhere! Bleedin' Krauts'll be on us in minutes now—even Schultz won't be able to miss this!" Newkirk muttered in frustration, then stopped his work, crawling beneath the smoke to help find the canister, or to run for his life.
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Kinch blinked a couple of times to make sure he was seeing clearly, then shook his head and frowned. Smoke was starting to creep out from the cracks in Klink's window, and the shade was moving like someone was fumbling near it. This could only mean trouble. He glanced over toward where Le Beau and Schultz were still camped out, and when Le Beau looked back over the guard's shoulder, Kinch gestured wildly toward the office.
Le Beau nodded and loudly urged Schultz to follow him to where there were more delights waiting for him, but the guard resisted. "I would love to, Le Beau, but I have to guard the Kommandant's office."
"There are plenty of guards around, Schultz!" protested Le Beau. "Besides, all the prisoners are at the Byron Buckles movie!" Through gritted teeth and a forced smile he added, "Who would want to miss that?"
Schultz nodded. "Ja, ja." He stood up and started to turn back toward the office for his rifle.
Le Beau grabbed it quickly for him, keeping him turned away. "Here you go, Schultzie," he said, handing the guard the plate. "I will hold this for you."
"Danke," Schultz replied. "For an enemy, you are a very good friend."
Kinch shook his head again and looked back to the office. More smoke. No Newkirk, no Carter. A searchlight rolled its beam across the compound, passing the office and then making an abrupt circuit back to it, stopping on the window. It was time to get things going. Kinch pulled out the things Carter had entrusted him with, and got to work.
