Disclaimer: I own the stranger. I do not own Carter, Hogan, or Stalag 13. The Nazis are up for grabs.
Author's note: This is what results from reading Fahrenheit 451 and Brave New World in a single weekend. I don't recommend doing so. Those books should not be mixed.
Again, I do not necessarily agree with all the opinions expressed in this chapter. I do not mean to offend anyone, but as I said before, Nazis are not politically correct.
On a brighter note, it only took me three weeks to update. Okay, so I had to procrastinate some other things, but who needs sleep?
Thanks as always to everyone who reviewed and to Suzanne of Dragon's Breath for the beta.
Chapter 6The scene revealed when the fog cleared gave Carter a powerful sense of deja vu. The sights, the sounds, the smells all recalled a host of memories. Some of those memories were positive; he would never forget the camaraderie he shared with the other members of his squadron, but that feeling was often overshadowed by the loss he felt when one of his friends did not return from a bombing run.
However, like London, there were differences between this airbase and the one in his memories that, while subtle, became apparent at a second glance. These buildings were strong and built to last, and the base itself lacked craters and debris from the enemy's bombs. The air was warmer than he remembered, and the planes—the planes!
These were not the B-29s and other aircraft he was used to seeing. These were cargo planes, not bombers, but they seemed…unfinished.
:Of course those are not the aircraft to which you are accustomed. The B-29s were developed and bought by the military's wartime budget. Many technological advances were made during the war. Its lack set back the aerospace industry alone by years. As a result, the aircraft you see are less efficient than those in use during even the early years of the war.:
"Where are we?" Andrew asked, but his mind was not on the question. He couldn't help but watch the men around him.
:We are currently on an army air base just outside of Washington D.C., and the date is July 18, 1957.:
Andrew said nothing as he continued to watch the crew of a nearby plane. He couldn't help but think of the men he was stationed with in England. How many were still alive? Did they know he had survived being shot down? One, Corporal Weber, had passed through Stalag 13 on his way back to England, but he was under orders not to mention the underground to anyone, let alone Stalag 13. He couldn't tell anyone Andrew survived; he might not have even returned to the same base.
Carter was abruptly jerked out of his introspection by the sight of the stranger half way across the field. As he rushed to catch up, he noticed another difference between this base and the one he remembered. The easy camaraderie was missing. He was surrounded by men, yet none were joking and laughing as he and his friends had so often. Even at Stalag 13 they had found reasons to laugh, even if it was at his own expense sometimes. And that was in wartime. If these people couldn't find reason to laugh when they were not at risk of dying, how bleak must their lives be?
Having returned to his previous introspective state, Andrew once again failed to notice that the stranger had stopped, so he nearly ran into him. After a sheepish apology, he noticed that they stood in front of a door bearing the label "General Norton, Base Commander." Silently, the stranger opened the door and slipped inside. Carter followed somewhat less gracefully.
It wasn't Carter's fault he had spent almost three years in a prison camp where the buildings were not exactly made of the finest materials available. It wasn't his fault that he was used to doors that were often harder to close than open. It certainly wasn't his fault that the army provided its generals with office doors that tended to want to be shut. Therefore, he shouldn't be blamed for the fact that the heavy, metal door slammed shut after he entered.
Both of the room's occupants looked up at the loud noise, and the sergeant's heart nearly stopped. Luckily for Andrew, both men seemed to shrug and continued their discussion.
"I agree that he's a fine officer, but promoting him could be dangerous," said the man seated behind the antique wooden desk. He wore his white hair cropped short and had a star on his collar. Carter guessed that this was General Norton.
"With all due respect, General, not promoting the man could be dangerous," returned the other man. He was slightly younger than the first and wore the insignia of a full colonel. "He inspires incredible loyalty in the men under his command."
"Loyal to him or to the country, Colonel. I won't deny he's charismatic as hell, but we can't afford to have officers building empires. If he's slightly dangerous as a major, he could do a great deal of damage as a lieutenant colonel, especially at this base. Or do I need to remind you how close to Washington D.C. we are?"
"He has an excellent record. His squadron is almost always the most efficient…"
The General cut him off. "Look at his political record, Colonel. He was one of the loudest supporters of that idiotic movement a few years ago to let Negroes into the military. Now he's against that bill in congress that will let the army police the ghettos. What's worse, some of his men are starting to agree with him. I don't care how good his service record is; the man is politically unreliable."
"Again, General, with all due respect, noting that in his file could keep him from ever being promoted."
"Is there a reason you are so concerned about him, Stewart? Do you share his beliefs, perhaps?"
"I do not, sir," said the colonel quietly, obviously offended by the general's statement. "I merely believe that he is too good an officer to have his career ruined because of his misguided notions. His charisma could be a great asset for us if he was be converted."
The general smiled thinly, though no trace of it reached his eyes. "In that case, I'm putting the matter in your hands. If you can convert him, good. But I will not promote him until I'm sure he's not a threat."
In a corner of the lavishly furnished room, Carter was puzzled. He did not recognize either man, by name or by sight. He assumed that the conversation he just witnessed was the reason he was in the office, but he could not understand why. He originally thought the stranger brought him here to see Colonel Hogan; it was an airbase, and the colonel had been in the army before the war began.
He couldn't understand how that conversation related to Hogan. Hogan was a colonel. Even if he was promoted quickly because of his actions in the war, this was 1957. He'd had nearly a decade to make up the rank. "Who are they talking about?" Andrew asked the stranger.
:Patience, Little Deer who Goes Swift and Sure Through Forest. You shall find out for yourself about: he paused for a moment:now.: Immediately, the sound of someone pounding the door filled the office.
The person on the other side of the door slammed it open without waiting for an invitation. A major stalked in, obviously irate. He looked young, despite gray hair among the black at his temples and slight crows feet at his brown eyes. He would have been considered handsome, had he not been so furious. Andrew's jaw dropped. He knew that man.
"Speak of the devil," the general said quietly to himself. He was somewhat less than pleased about being interrupted. "I assume you have a problem, Major Hogan?"
"Sir," Hogan began, barely able to keep his temper in check, "one of my men, a Sergeant Lukas McKenna, was listed as AWOL."
"Surely, Major, you realize I have a base to run. I was aware of his desertion. Is there a reason you are personally bothering me with this?"
Even Carter could see the flare in Hogan's eyes as his temper almost got the better of him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and his face determinedly blank, Hogan explained. "McKenna is a loyal soldier. He has been under my command for nearly a year. I cannot believe he would desert."
"And you want me to do something about it?"
"If possible, sir."
The general turned to Colonel Stewart. "It looks like you have a lot of work to do. Dismissed."
Both junior officers saluted him and left the office. Once out in the hallway, Hogan turned to Colonel Stewart. "Sir, what did he mean, 'You have a lot of work to do?'" He was not calming any.
"I am supposed to convince you to change your attitude."
"My attitude, sir? I just want to know where one of my men is!"
At the major's outburst, Colonel Stewart dragged the younger man into his office, trying to prevent people from overhearing. Andrew barely got through to door before it closed.
"Your attitude, Major. To start, I would advise you to drop the subject of McKenna. He is AWOL, presumed deserted."
"I take care of my men, sir," Hogan hissed, his tone making the honorific an insult. "I will be dammed if-" he was cut off.
"Major Hogan, you will be considerably more than dammed if you do not." The colonel's tone was matter of fact, which only made his words more effective. "Two men were declared AWOL last night. Your Sergeant McKenna had a 'friend' in another squadron."
"So what? He's a dammed good soldier!"
"There is no place for queers in this man's army." The colonel ignored Hogan's glare and continued in that same, cold tone. "You are an ambitious man, Major. Don't throw away your entire career because of something you cannot change." With those words, Stewart left the office, leaving the seething major behind him.
Carter turned to the stranger. "The colonel is going to come up with a plan to save McKenna, right?" he asked hopefully, but he didn't really believe it. After all, nothing else had turned out the way he wanted it to, but it didn't hurt to hope.
He was startled when the fog closed in around him. "What-" he began to ask.
:You asked a question. Here is the answer.:
The fog vanished again, leaving the two Sioux standing in another office. This one was not decorated as nicely, nor was it as large. In fact, if not for the figure hunched over a battered desk, Carter would have thought the small, windowless room was a closet.
Carter took another look at the man. He wasn't surprised to recognize his CO. Time had not been kind to Hogan. He still wore his clusters—he must not have become a nazi, then, Carter thought in relief—the bands of gray at his temple had widened, and he had added reading glasses.
After minutes of watching the man in front of him fill out form after form, Andrew turned to the stranger for an explanation.
:The year is 1961. Colonel Stewart was correct in labeling Hogan as ambitious. He managed to restrain himself from an outburst that would end his career and his life, but he could not entirely hide his feelings. General Norton did indicate in his file that Major Hogan was politically unreliable, which ended any chance he had for promotion. When his resentment started to spread to his subordinates, he was relieved of command and given a post where he could not contaminate the minds of his subordinates.:
Carter returned to watching the man who, in another world, would have been his commanding officer. A sense of familiarity nagged at him. It took another minute to figure out what was familiar.
Kommandant Klink.
The young sergeant could not see Hogan ever groveling before senior officers as Klink was wont to do, but he was still a basically good man caught between a rock and a hard place. Hogan's nature would not permit him to commit suicide by actively opposing the Nazis, but he could not collaborate with them either.
Sadly, Carter turned to the stranger. "I'm ready to go," he said.
As the fog once again enclosed them, the stranger replied:We have one final destination.:
