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's men watched as the black staff car and the truck rolled into the compound.
"Here they come," Carter observed.
"Yeah, they always know how to ruin your day," Newkirk added. He watched as Major Wolfgang Hochstetter got out of the car and spoke to the six men who emerged from the truck. The men immediately dispersed, and Hochstetter went up the stairs to Klink's office.
"There goes the neighborhood," Hogan sighed. "Let's listen in on what he plans to do."
The trio headed back inside. "Carter, watch the door," Hogan ordered. He moved into his office and pulled out the coffee pot again. Newkirk settled in beside him.
Hochstetter was already in full swing by the time Hogan switched on the listening device. "—will surround this camp with a ring of steel! No one in, no one out!" he was saying. "My men are conducting a thorough inspection of this camp now, and more will arrive tomorrow to ensure the safety of our dear Mr. Smallwood."
"Great," Hogan muttered under his breath.
"Of course, we here at Stalag 13 will do whatever we can to help maintain the tightest security, Major Hochstetter," Klink said.
"Good, then you will understand when I tell you to stay out of my way," Hochstetter growled. "The Gestapo will have things well in hand. We expect you and your guards to keep your prisoners under control; we will handle the security of the scientist. And if we do not get the help we need, Klink, then we will also handle you."
Klink laughed nervously. "You know we will be up to our usual efficiency!" he tittered.
"Then I'd better bring in more guards." Hochstetter paused. "Where is Colonel Hogan today?" he asked.
"I believe he's in the barracks," Klink answered.
Hogan raised an eyebrow and straightened. Newkirk frowned.
"He is not to be given access to Smallwood for any reason. Do you understand this, Klink?"
"Absolutely, Major. No access."
"We will have enough trouble making sure everything goes smoothly without Hogan's interfering."
"I resent that!" Hogan protested. "I don't interfere; I connive!"
"Only with the best of intentions," Newkirk added.
"That's right," Hogan added: "Ours."
Klink had continued assuring the Major that Hogan would be kept away from Smallwood, and Hochstetter gave orders regarding the placement and actions of the camp's guards, then stormed out of the office, leaving the usual hurricane in his wake. Hogan unplugged the coffee pot and sighed. "Just one more problem to add to the pile. The last person I wanted here was the Gestapo weasel. Well," he said, standing up, "we can only hope he'll fall into the trap we're setting for the others. I'll have to give him some special treatment, as a thank you for the endorsement he just gave Klink."
Hogan and Newkirk went back out into the main room. Carter turned around. "Hochstetter's leaving, Colonel. What's he up to?"
"Oh, nothing special. Just exuding his usual charm," Hogan answered.
Carter gulped. "Oh. That bad, huh?"
Hogan forced on a lopsided smile. "Don't worry, Carter," he said, putting an arm around the Sergeant's shoulder. "We'll get around him. Let's see how our artists are doing."
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The touch of Hogan's hand on Kinch's shoulder woke the radio man late that night. Kinch sat up and rubbed his eyes as he look at his commanding officer in his black face paint and dark clothing, ready to head out. He asked in a whisper if Hogan wanted him to accompany the Colonel, but Hogan just shook his head no and smiled grimly, replying only, "Too many goons," before tripping the latch that exposed the tunnel under Kinch's bunk.
"Good luck," Kinch said after Hogan, as the Colonel's head disappeared down the ladder.
Hogan passed the escaped flyers sleeping spread out on cots and blankets in the tunnel, nodding reassuringly at one man who woke up as Hogan passed. "Can't do without my midnight stroll," he quipped in a hushed voice. The young man's worried face melted into a grin, and Hogan continued on.
The cover of the emergency tunnel opened cautiously as Hogan's eyes scanned the immediate area for any signs of German activity. The lid slammed abruptly as a searchlight from the camp's watchtowers passed by. Then it opened again slowly and Hogan emerged and slipped into the darkness.
A short time later Hogan found himself waiting by the side of the road, flashlight in one hand, gun in the other. He glanced at his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes and waited. At last a car came slowly down the road, flashing its lights in an odd pattern. Hogan raised his flashlight and returned contact with his part of the agreed signal, and the car came to a slow stop. Hogan lowered his light and emerged. He came around to driver's side of the car and a man quickly handed him a large envelope. "These are the pictures you needed, Colonel," the contact said.
Hogan took the parcel and buried it in his clothing. "This is faster service than I get at the drug store."
The contact smiled. "There is also much information in there about the site being excavated at Heuneburg. They have found much out there that may be of use to you."
"Thanks," Hogan said. "I'll be studying it tonight. Is everything organized?"
"Exactly as you requested, Colonel."
"Good."
"Be careful, Colonel Hogan."
"I will," Hogan answered, always touched somehow when cautioned to take care by a civilian who, to him, was taking even more risks than he was as a member of the military. "Just stick to the plan, and we should all be okay. We'll be in touch soon. Be safe."
And Hogan disappeared back into the night.
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Despite his desire to remain awake while Hogan was out, when the bunk below him rattled, Kinch realized he had fallen back to sleep. Instantly ashamed at his lack of stamina and what he perceived as a slight lack of selflessness, he jumped and triggered the latch to lower the ladder.
Hogan climbed back inside, nodding that all was well and pulling out the envelope for Kinch to see. Then he closed himself in his office to start his crash course in German archaeology.
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Hogan handed Newkirk the photographs and showed him a few key points in the notes he had received before turning back to his desk. He stifled a yawn as the Corporal left the room, the words on the pages before him starting to dance as his vision blurred from tiredness. He had not slept after his return in the early morning hours, instead taking the time without interruption to learn all he could about the subject about which he was soon to need expertise. Eventually, when he could make no sense of the letters at all, he lay his head down on the desk and closed his eyes, intending to take just a minute to gather the strength to continue his work.
A voice suddenly broke in on his rest. "You should go to bed, Colonel."
Hogan gave a start, then reluctantly opened his eyes as someone touched his shoulder. He looked up to see Le Beau standing beside him with a cup of coffee. Light was starting to dawn just outside his window; he had slept for at least an hour. He straightened and gratefully took the cup. "Afraid there isn't much time for that," he said, taking the biggest swallow he could manage while it was still so hot. "There's too much to do. How's it going downstairs?"
"Fine, Colonel," Le Beau replied. "Newkirk turned in after he finished painting a few hours ago. They look just like the photographs you gave them last night."
Hogan nodded, wincing as he stretched to release some of the tension in his back and shoulders. "Good," he said. He heard something crack loudly and took another sip of his coffee. "There's a lot of work to do today. How are the flyers going downstairs?"
"They are fine. A little confused, but they are happy to be out of the way of the Krauts."
"A goal for us all," Hogan agreed. "If all goes to plan we'll have them out in the next few days. Do they know they're going out in the dog truck?"
"Oui, Colonel. We will swap them with the men coming in tonight."
"Good. Make sure everything's ready." Hogan yawned hugely. "I wish the war wouldn't keep these long hours; they're killing me!"
"Get some sleep, Colonel," Le Beau encouraged him. "We will not be done for awhile."
At that moment, the bell sounded outside for roll call. Hogan stood up. "Duty calls," he said. "This is such an inconvenient war!"
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Yawning, Hogan nodded and followed Carter downstairs when he was woken up about three hours later. Newkirk held up a piece of pottery. "What do you think of that, gov'nor?" he asked, obviously proud.
Hogan moved in and took the piece from the Englishman, turning it slowly in his hands. He studied the colors, the texture, and the design, nodding quietly and trying to connect this with everything he had read overnight. "Newkirk, Carter, this is perfect." The men's chests swelled with pride. "Le Beau, you and Olsen did a great job with the clay. This is exactly what it's supposed to look like. They'll have to believe this is the real thing." Hogan paused as the Frenchman nodded, pleased. Then he said, "You and Newkirk might not want to watch this. I know how sensitive artists are about their creations." Hogan turned to Carter. "Carter, you have my permission to smash these."
Carter's face broke into an even bigger smile than the one he put on when Hogan first praised them. "Thanks, Colonel," Carter said, grabbing a hammer that he had waiting nearby.
Hogan caught the gleam in the young Sergeant's eye and cautioned him, "Make sure you leave pieces that are big enough to look at, Carter. Your love of destruction is too well-documented as it is."
Carter grinned and shifted feet shyly.
Hogan took one last look at the pieces and shook his head. "Yep, you could fool the experts," he declared. He turned to Kinch. "Speaking of which, you'd better get these boys some information about the Heuneburg site… otherwise the experts won't know what they're talking about!" He turned knowingly to the downed flyers who were hovering near the wall, still unsure of themselves.
They could only look back in wonder as Hogan headed up the ladder.
