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 yanked the stethoscope from his ears and stuffed it into his pocket. That's torn it! We need to find that thing and scarper before the Krauts show up! He started sweeping his hands across the floor, searching for the canister. "Anything yet, Carter?"

"Not yet, Newkirk," came a faceless voice as smoke filled the room.

"Well where is it?" Newkirk asked for the second time.

"I don't know! I told you, it fell on the floor!"

"Well, the floor's a pretty big place, Andrew! Would you care to narrow that answer down a bit?"

"I'm doing my best, Newkirk—just keep looking!" Carter moved around blindly in the room, banging into Klink's desk and then another table in the room. He felt himself about to lose his balance and he stepped down hard on something sticking up on the floor. For just a second he wondered what that was, but all uncertainty was removed when he heard a loud cry from below.

"OW! Blimey, Andrew! You're standin' on me hand!"

Carter instantly picked up his booted foot. "Sorry, Newkirk!" he said. He got down on his knees and reached around. "Here it is—here it is!"

"C'mon, let's get out of here before they count that bloody thing as our last smoke before we get shot!"

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"Answer me, Hogan, where is the Englander?" Hochstetter growled.

Hogan cocked his head. Now would be a really good time for that diversion, Kinch! "Major, even you understand the call of Nature—" he began.

Suddenly a shout rang out from the compound. "Fire! There's a fire! Fire!"

"Finally!" Hogan let slip from his lips. Then he turned and led the way out into the open air.

"What's going on?" Hogan asked, when he finally made his way to where Kinch was standing and several Germans were grabbing hoses and buckets.

"Looks like they set off a smoke bomb in Klink's office," Kinch answered under his breath.

"They come out yet?" Hogan asked, concerned.

"Not yet, Colonel. I thought I'd better set off these in case they needed to get out of there in a hurry."

Hogan patted his arm but kept an eye on the Kommandant's office. "Good work," he said, still worrying.

More guards added to the confusion as the general fire alarm started wailing in the camp, and a searchlight swept by, coming to rest on the armory, where heavy smoke was billowing out the closed front door.

"You'd better move my men out of the area, Kommandant," Hogan said loudly. "It's your responsibility under the Geneva Convention to keep the prisoners safe, and being blown up by the camp armory definitely does not qualify as safe!" Hogan moved next to Klink and turned the Kommandant, who was standing bellowing orders to anyone who would listen, away from his own office toward the fire, and signaled Kinch to divert Hochstetter's attention as well.

"You'd better take a look at this, Major," Kinch said, bringing the Gestapo officer closer to the fake fire.

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Newkirk went to the office window, pulling back the shade to get a look outside. "Looks like Kinch has everyone's attention on the armory. Let's go!" He raised the shade easily enough, but was struggling to open the window one-handed when Carter stepped up to help.

"I'm really sorry, Newkirk," Carter said, pushing the window open and gesturing for Newkirk to go first.

"We'll worry about that later, Carter, now let's just get out of here!"

Newkirk climbed out with Carter right behind him. Making sure the window was closed, the Englishman raced across the compound and ducked into the group of prisoners milling around the compound. Sighing in relief, he worked his way through the crowd until he got to a place where he could catch Hogan's eye.

Hogan nodded and made his way over to the Englishman. "You get it?" Hogan murmured, still keeping an eye on Klink and Hochstetter.

"Not even close." Newkirk kept his voice down as he responded. "Four lousy numbers left to find, and Carter goes and sets off one of his ruddy smoke bombs."

Hogan let out a loud breath. "That's great. That is just great," he said, shaking his head. "All right, let's get this mess cleaned up and talk about trying again."

"Right." Newkirk shook his head. "I'll go find our Little Deer and herd him back to the barracks then."

Hogan made sure someone discovered there was no real fire shortly thereafter, and signaled Kinch to head back to the barracks with him.

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"The café's closed, Schultz," Hogan said as he entered the common room. "The Kommandant needs you outside for a clean up."

The German Sergeant gave Hogan a mournful look. "But I haven't finished my strudel yet."

"We'll save it for you," Hogan said, pushing the guard out the door with difficulty. "You don't want to get in trouble, now. Major Hochstetter would get you transferred to the Russian front!"

Hogan shut the door and turned back toward his men. "Okay, what happened?" he asked, looking at Newkirk and Carter.

"It was my fault, Colonel," Carter said sheepishly; "I accidentally set off one of the smoke bombs."

Hogan sighed. "All right, then. We'll have to have a go later when things settle down again. Newkirk, you had some time in there; think you can do it?"

Newkirk bit his lip and reached up to take his cap off to delay answering the question. He winced in pain at the movement and tried to lower his hand before anyone noticed.

Hogan's eyes widened at the sight of the Corporal's red, slightly swollen hand. "Oh, boy, now what?" he asked.

"I—I sort of stepped on his hand," Carter piped up.

"What?"

"It was an accident, Colonel," Newkirk defended his friend. "We couldn't see for all the smoke."

Hogan let out a frustrated breath and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he conceded. "These things happen." Hogan ran a hand through his hair, lost in thought.

"Look, gov'nor, all we've got to do is let the Krauts settle in for the night, then I'll nip back over to the office and finish the job." Newkirk carefully tucked his hand into his jacket pocket, hoping the "out of sight, out of mind" theory would work on the Colonel.

No dice. "No," Hogan sighed, shaking his head. "We can't afford to do long term damage to those magic fingers of yours, not even for this…. Make sure Wilson gets a look at that hand. Tonight." He stopped, still thinking. "We're gonna have to find some other way. The weather's clearing up, the roads are bound to be good enough for Hochstetter to move tomorrow. We're running out of time." Hogan folded his arms, tapping his lips with his index finger. Suddenly, he stopped tapping and snapped his fingers. "Got it. Carter, how would you like a chance to redeem yourself?"

Carter had plopped himself on his bunk while the others were talking. Boy, I sure screwed this mission up... and who knows how bad Newkirk's hurt? I hope I didn't mess his hand up permanently! Hogan's words brought Carter out of his reverie and he jumped up, rushing eagerly to the Colonel's side. "Yes, sir, I sure would like that!" The words came tumbling from his lips. "I really didn't mean to step on Newkirk like that! Honest! I'm really, really sorry I—"

"At ease, Carter," Hogan said gently. Carter stopped talking and twitched his lips uncomfortably. Hogan offered the Sergeant a soft, reassuring smile as he continued. "I think we've all had our share of messes lately, and none of them come at a good time. Now, Hochstetter's bound to leave this paradise tomorrow, and he's not about to leave the book behind." Hogan shifted position and moved in to the main table. "There's only one reason he would hand it over to anyone." He raised an eyebrow. "And that's if a superior officer ordered it."

The young Sergeant thought about that, then his face lit up with a huge grin. "Oh! I get it!" He took a couple of steps away from Hogan, then turned back with a serious expression, and spoke up in one of his best Kraut voices. "Hmm, I see you have a nice bedtime story there, Major. Would you care to share it with someone else— namely your Fuhrer?" Carter smirked, and let out a soft giggle before dropping back out of character.

Hogan smiled and shook his head. "You know, Carter, I often wonder whether I should be impressed with you—or frightened of you." Carter grinned. "You'll arrive in camp first thing in the morning and order the book handed over for your personal inspection, after which you will return it to the safe, loving hands of Major Hochstetter, so we can use it against him."

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Hogan had just sat down on his lower bunk and was rubbing his eyes and face wearily, trying to take in the events of the night, when he heard a faint knock on the door. Sighing, he said, "Come." He looked with surprise when he saw Newkirk almost stealthily walk in. "Another late night, Corporal?" he asked.

"Something like that, sir." Newkirk was feeling the effects of the last twenty-four hours himself, and having to deal with failing the mission on top of that wasn't helping. "What you said to Carter out there... thank you for that. I hate to see him kicking himself for what was an accident."

"That's what it was, too, Newkirk," Hogan said, sensing more than a little guilt in the Englishman's stance as well. "An accident." Hogan shook his head. "We're sure had our share of trials in the last twenty-four hours. All because I lost that damned code book in the first place."

Newkirk pulled out the desk chair and took a seat opposite Hogan. He didn't say anything for a minute as he studied the man closely. He's still kickin' himself over that. No surprise there, really. The Englishman took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he spoke. "It might not be my place to say this, sir, but someone's gotta do it. You can tell me to shut up if you like, but just this once, I'd like to talk with the man behind the eagles."

Hogan raised one eyebrow as his tiredness deserted him. "You have a problem, Newkirk?" he asked.

"No, Robert, but I believe you do." Newkirk knew he was going out on a limb here. Hogan never insisted on all the usual privileges of rank, but an enlisted man calling an officer by his first name just wasn't done in either of their respective armies.

Hogan frowned. "I don't have a problem, Corporal," he said. "But if there's something on your mind, just say it."

"You went out to catch the code book last night and had to stand by while it fell into German hands. Fine. It happened... now get over it." As he spoke, Newkirk slid back into that same authoritative tone and manner he'd used when talking Hogan out of trying for the safe himself. "That particular mission failed, but you saved the entire operation by not getting yourself captured."

"The same way you 'got over it' when things went wrong for you three weeks ago in Hammelburg?" Hogan retorted sharply. Newkirk recoiled physically from the comment; Hogan immediately regretted it. He held up a hand and let out a long breath. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head. He collected himself, then continued. "Look, I'm not going to let it stop me from doing my job. I just couldn't stand seeing it happen. It puts a lot of good people at risk, and I was the one hiding in the bushes watching it all go to Hell in a hand basket. I know I did the right thing," he added quietly. "Sometimes I just wish I didn't have to."

Newkirk's soft tone was full of concern as he spoke. "We all wish we didn't have to. Blimey, I can think of a hundred things I'd rather be doing instead of freezing in this filthy rathole of a prison camp." Shaking his head, he continued. "We could have let the code book go and just told London to come up with a new one. We didn't, though, because that's not how we do things here. It's not how you do things. You came up with this plan to twist it around to our advantage, and we've all gone along with it because it's the best option we've got."

As Hogan listened, his breathing got calmer, and he closed his eyes to clear his mind. "Thanks, Newkirk," he said finally. "I can usually handle hiccups without cracking up. I must be getting old."

Newkirk couldn't help but smile. "I think we're all gonna be old men before we're done here. But if it's any consolation to you, mate, gray hairs look a lot more distinguished on a Colonel than they do a Corporal."

"Thanks," Hogan answered wryly.

"Think nothing of it." Newkirk paused, giving Hogan time to enjoy the light moment before continuing. "As we both know, Plan A has ended in a total failure on account of an accident none of us could have foreseen. To tell the truth, I did think for a second about staying and finishing despite what was going on, but then I realized that would have been about as brilliant as you trying to take the code book away from that Kraut patrol." Hogan opened his mouth to speak; Newkirk held up his hand to forestall any comments from his superior officer. "This leads us to Plan B: Carter doing his nut as a Nazi General again." Newkirk smiled. "It isn't that I don't think he can pull it off, but I'd like to offer you another option first."

"I can hardly wait," Hogan replied.

"Not to put the knock on Carter, but I can take another crack at that safe once things settle down for the night."

"What, with your hand like that?" Hogan asked, incredulous.

"I still have five of me magic fingers, gov'nor," Newkirk replied with a touch of pride.

"Yeah, but I'd rather you have all ten. Especially since the five that aren't so magical right now are the ones you normally use." Hogan shook his head. "Sorry, Newkirk. No go. What'd Wilson say, anyway?"

Newkirk frowned at the knock-back, though he understood the reasoning behind it. "Back in top form in no time, sir," he answered, showing Hogan his bandaged hand.

"Good," Hogan said. "Now get some sleep. We'll be at it first thing in the morning."

"Right, gov'nor."

"And Peter—" Hogan called as the Corporal turned to leave. "I prefer Rob to Robert."

"I'll keep that in mind... Rob." Newkirk glanced over his shoulder, his eyes briefly meeting Hogan's. "Best you get some sleep now, too, Colonel."

"I'm way ahead of you." Hogan stood up to climb up to his upper bunk. "Someday, this war's going to conform to my lifestyle," he said as he heaved himself onto the mattress, "and kick in at noon!"