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 dropped off the last rung of the ladder that led to the tunnel system under the barracks and stood beside Kinch, who was just signing off on the radio.
"How'd you go?" Hogan asked as Kinch finished writing.
Kinch shook his head in wonder. "It's a big one, Colonel. London says Burkhalter must be talking about Colossus."
"Colossus?"
"It's a programmable, electronic machine designed to break the German communication codes using the Baudot code—at five thousand characters a second."
Hogan's eyebrows shot up as he let out a low whistle. "That could mean the difference between life and death for a lot of our boys. Imagine the speed if a machine decodes instead of a man!"
"It was developed at the Post Office research labs in London. Smallwood was in on some of the top-level stuff but disappeared about a month ago, and it's made them pretty nervous. Now they know why. Colossus is top secret and not yet complete, and London is anxious that the Germans not get any more information about it. They say it could mean an early end to the war if it's kept safe. They want us to stop Smallwood at all costs."
Hogan nodded. "I can see why," he muttered.
"So how are we going to do it, Colonel?"
Hogan crossed his arms and started pacing back and forth in the small space, a habit Kinch had gotten used to over his time with the Colonel. He watched quietly as Hogan's mind started working along with his feet. "The Gestapo is going to be hanging all over Smallwood. If they have any inkling what kind of information he's carrying, they won't be anxious to let him out of their sight. We have to give them something else to concentrate on so we can get near him ourselves."
"All this with a couple of flyers coming in tomorrow, and whoever we pick up tonight!"
"One crisis at a time, Kinch. Just one crisis at a time."
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"Wow, Colonel, full house," Carter declared late that night. "How're we gonna keep six guys down in the tunnel until the Gestapo is gone? And what about the ones coming tomorrow?"
Carter wiped the black off his face as Hogan poured a cup of old coffee at the stove in the common room. He, Newkirk, and Le Beau had done well that night, gathering in five Allied flyers who would otherwise have ended up in enemy hands. They were all from the same bomber and grateful for the intervention, but as bewildered as most to be brought to safety inside a German POW camp. Hogan had greeted them and made sure they were given all the comforts of a home-away-from-home, Stalag 13-style, and then come back upstairs for the night, still trying to formulate a plan to get these men, and the two still to come, out of the camp, while trying to get past the Germans to the British scientist who was considering trading some of the most important secrets of World War Two to the enemy.
"You ask tough questions, Carter," Hogan answered. "And at this point I have no idea what the answers are."
Le Beau watched Hogan, concerned. Their commanding officer always had an idea. There was always a way out, always. "You will think of them, Colonel. We have never failed yet."
Hogan sighed. "Yet. That's the operative word. With Klink bucking for a promotion, who knows what lengths he'll go to, to look important to Berlin? It's no secret that both sides are working on code-breakers. But this one is so big it could turn the war in the Germans' favor if they get it. We have to stop it from getting into their hands. And we have to get Smallwood away from them before he talks… even if it means eliminating him." Hogan nodded toward his men. "I'm gonna go have a think about this. We can't afford to mess this one up. Goodnight."
The group bade Hogan goodnight and then started to settle in themselves. "The gov'nor's not himself tonight," Newkirk observed.
"He's pretty upset about this scientist," Kinch said. "The idea of someone selling out a secret as important as Colossus really gets to him."
"Let me get me hands on that filthy traitor for five minutes, and the Colonel wouldn't have to worry about any secrets getting out," Newkirk declared, getting hot under the collar himself. "It's not British, what he's planning to do!"
"I'm American and it bothers me!" Carter put in.
"And to top it off, we're gonna have two more fellas coming in tomorrow while the camp is crawling with Krauts. And that will make a total of eight to look after—if we can get them in without being spotted," Kinch said.
"It's going to get crowded pretty fast down there," Newkirk admitted.
"Mon Colonel will come up with a plan," Le Beau insisted. "He is very clever."
"The Colonel mentioned eliminating the scientist—is he talking about what I think he's talking about?"
"Assassination?" Kinch asked. Carter nodded. "If we have to. But it's not our style. The Colonel won't like it. But he'll do it if he has to."
"Well I hope we don't, Kinch," Newkirk answered. "Otherwise, I'm going to find it pretty hard to sleep from now on."
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Hogan's men groaned as their commanding officer nudged or prodded each of them into wakefulness at some ungodly hour of the night. It became clear to them as they stumbled into his office that he had not gone to sleep at all. His bed was still untouched, and papers littered the floor around his desk.
"Okay I've got it," Hogan said simply.
"I knew you would, Colonel," said Carter, already warming up his patter. "Louis said it last night—if there's a problem, Colonel Hogan will—"
"Carter," Hogan said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Carter stopped talking. "We're gonna need a distraction—I mean a big one, and I think I know just the thing to do it. Kinch, radio the Underground and see what kind of information you can get about archaeological findings here in Germany, particularly Iron Age ruins. We need pictures and details, and we need them fast."
Kinch screwed up his face in a look of confusion but nodded anyway. "Yes, sir."
"Carter, Newkirk—you two are going to volunteer for cleaning duty in Klink's office first thing in the morning. You need to get a good look at a vase he's got on his desk. It's from an excavation site here in Germany and it belongs in a museum. We're going to need to copy it and make some things in a similar style."
"Right, Colonel," Newkirk said, exchanging dubious glances with Carter.
"Le Beau, I need you to get moving in getting some pottery clay together. I'll draw you a general sketch to start with till we get some photos and more accurate drawings. Get Olsen to help you. We need to start firing some pieces right away."
Le Beau furrowed his brow questioningly. "Oui, Colonel. Colonel, what are we doing?"
Hogan paused in his planning. "Did you boys know that Stalag 13 is built on top of Iron Age ruins?" The men shifted and murmured to themselves in disbelief. "Neither did I, until I decided it a few minutes ago. Germans are very proud of their history and heritage, right?" Hogan asked. The quartet agreed. "So we're going to give them a little more reason to be proud—their very own archaeological find, right here under their feet." Everyone started talking at once. Hogan put up his hands to stop them. "Hold it, hold it!" he ordered. When they fell silent, he continued. "If we plant a few things conveniently away on the opposite side of the camp near the fence, and we can convince the Germans they've discovered a brand new Iron Age village, they're bound to close off the area and surround it—with guards."
Newkirk nodded slowly, starting to understand. "And if the guards are near the site, they won't be watching Smallwood…."
"Or the dog pen?" Kinch added tentatively.
Hogan nodded, satisfied. "Now you've got it. They won't all go, but we can at least bring the odds a bit more into our favor."
Newkirk shook his head. "Blimey," he said with a small smile. "It takes a bleedin' devious mind to come up with stuff like this, gov'nor."
Hogan grinned. "Thank you," he replied. "Now, let's get the boys to start digging. Where don't we have anything to worry about?"
"There's nothing out from Barracks Ten, Colonel," Kinch said. "It's in the opposite direction to town and too far away from the dog pen and the main gate."
Hogan nodded agreement. "That'll do nicely. Now let's get moving; we don't have a lot of time. Those guys from the Iron Age had centuries—we've got hours."
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Newkirk's broom swept wide and carelessly along the floor of Klink's office, stirring up dirt more than gathering it. Carter carefully stroked everything on Klink's desk with his dust cloth, picking up and putting down each item as he worked his way across the surface. When he got to a certain piece of reddish ceramic pottery, he worked just as meticulously, glancing over his shoulder to see that his companion had shut the door behind them and was leaning against it to make sure no one dropped in unexpectedly. He quickly pulled out a tiny camera from inside his jacket pocket and snapped a couple of shots of the vase, turning it once or twice to make sure he got all the design and shape. When he was done he gestured to Newkirk to take a good look at it, and Newkirk nodded as he studied the strokes and the textures, ready to do one of the best forgeries of his career. The broom didn't stand a chance of getting used now.
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Hogan was checking Le Beau and Olsen's progress down in the tunnels when Kinch came up to him with a note. "Underground, Colonel," Kinch said, handing Hogan the small piece of blue paper.
Hogan took it and nodded, reading. At first quite stern, his features slowly took on a look of being pleasantly surprised, and then of another look that Kinch had gotten used to seeing: plotting. "So we'll have pictures tonight. Fantastic," Hogan said.
Le Beau looked up from the shaping he was doing. "Good news, Colonel?"
"Yeah," Hogan said, starting a very slow pace. He tapped the note absentmindedly against his other hand. "The Underground has people who are actually connected with an Iron Age excavation site at Heuneburg. They're going to send photographs of the items they've been working with—all from the Iron Age, like in Klink's office."
"That is fantastic, Colonel," Le Beau replied, studying the photos from Klink's office again. "Then we can copy more than one type of pattern."
"That's right," Hogan said, clearly still thinking. "And… I think I just came up with a way to get our guests out of camp. Kinch, can we get back in touch with the Underground?"
