Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

Author's note: First, thanks to everyone who reviewed. This chapter is mostly a transition/introduction, but my next will begin the actual story. I hope this is readable, the document manager kept eating my punctuation. Also, I'm afraid updates will be sporadic. The amount of time I have to write will depend on how sadistic my professors decide to be.

Thanks again to Suzanne of Dragon's Breath for the betaing grammar and medical issues. Any continuity/characterization errors are mine.


Chapter 2

Carter shivered as he opened the door to the tunnel hidden inside a tree stump. He was certain it was getting colder, but it might only have been that the scene he had just witnessed chilled him inside. How someone could be so cruel to fellow human beings he would never understand. Sure, people killed in war, even his bombs had been responsible for some deaths, but the airmen had surrendered!

A light touch on his shoulder returned Carter to the real world. He helped the wounded Olsen climb into the tunnel then followed, closing the door behind them. The two men began the walk towards Barracks Two and their CO, but they were met by Colonel Hogan and Corporal Lebeau before they had walked more than twenty feet into the tunnel.

It took Hogan very little time to process the scene before him. He saw the bloody streak on Olsen's left sleeve, which was covered by his other hand, and the dazed expression on Carter's face. A quick gesture sent the diminutive corporal beside him after the camp medic. "Where's Newkirk?" he asked the two new arrivals.

"He's drawing the pursuit, sir," Olsen said quietly. "He told Sergeant Carter to make sure I got back safely while he led the SS away from Stalag 13."

The three men continued to walk towards Barracks Two. "And the parachuters?"

"Dead, sir. The SS found them before we did. They executed them. The fliers had surrendered, and the bastards shot them. We saw the last execution."

"And you?"

"The bullet barely grazed me, sir. I'll be all right. I think the bleeding has mostly stopped."

"You should still have the medic look at it. I can debrief Carter now." Olsen removed his hand from his arm long enough to salute, and followed the path Lebeau had taken minutes earlier towards Barracks Eight and the medic.

Hogan led the stunned and silent Sergeant to the radio room, where he had a brief conversation with Kinch. Once certain the underground was apprised of the night's events, Hogan and Carter climbed the ladder into Barracks Two, and went straight to Hogan's office.

Hogan spent the better part of an hour going over the events of the evening. It took ten minutes and several false starts to get the younger man to speak. Even then, Carter paused frequently, usually at a particularly gruesome moment. By the end of the narrative, Hogan was obviously troubled by the events, and seeing his CO affected helped Carter get a handle on his own grief. When they finished, the Colonel sent him to bed.

"But, sir! Newkirk isn't back yet, and—"

"To bed, Little Deer," Hogan interrupted. "Roll call is in four hours, and you need the rest. You can't help Newkirk by staying up."

"But aren't you even going to go out and look for him?" Andrew asked, unable to believe that the Colonel would abandon one of his men.

"I can't," Hogan told him gently.

"But why not?"

"It wouldn't help. The SS have shown that they are willing to shoot enemies on sight. If they catch him, we can only hope they want to question him at their headquarters, so we can bluff our way in to take custody of him. Any one who leaves the camp probably won't find him, and even if he did, two people would be in the same situation that one is now. The underground is monitoring the activities at the SS HQ, but that's the most we can do for now. Bed, Sergeant"

"Yes, sir."

Hogan watched as the dejected young man made his way to his bunk. He felt worse than Carter about leaving Newkirk to fend for himself, after all, Hogan had been the one who sent them on the mission in the first place, and felt guilty that he wasn't out there sharing the risks. Hogan hated feeling helpless, especially when the life of one his men was at stake, but everything he told Carter was true. Sending anyone else out would only endanger more lives. He sighed as sought his own bed. He might even be tired enough to sleep.

Andrew was no more able to sleep than his CO. He lay in the dark, staring at the underside of the bed above him, and his thoughts inevitably turned to the events of the night.

I hate war, he thought. Nothing good ever comes out of it, just death and destruction. Those parachuters never asked to be shot down--and they surrendered--and the SS murdered them! Then Olsen was shot, and now Newkirk is missing. He could be dead. All three of us could have been killed! It was the first time he let himself think that, the first time he actually believed in his own mortality. He had known it academically, he was fighting a war after all, but this was the first time he came close to dying himself. This was even worse than the times the Gestapo had nearly discovered the operation; at least then Hogan could talk his way out of it.

Eventually, his exhaustion overcame his worries and he drifted off to sleep.

::You really wish the war had never begun?:: a deep voice asked him.

Carter opened his eyes. He did not see the underside of the bunk above him; he didn't see the barracks at all! He was standing somewhere, and he could see nothing but thick, dark fog. He spun in a circle, looking for the speaker, but no one was there. Hesitantly, he said, "Um…yes."

::Why?:: The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

Andrew again tried to locate the source of the voice, with out luck. "Because nothing good ever comes out of it!" he answered. He was no longer hesitant, though the disembodied voice still unnerved him. "The SS goons killed those airmen! They could have just taken then prisoner; Stalag 13 was only a mile away! Then they shot Olsen, and Newkirk is still missing!"

::That is only one instance.::

"One of many! We're all away from home, we risk our lives, we kill people, and people die everyday. I hate war!"

::You honestly think the world have been better had war never been declared?::

"Yes!"

::If you are certain.::