As always, I'm grateful for Marilyn Penner. It would take a whole page to list the reasons why.

Chapter 18

"Robert? Robert, can you hear me?"

Newkirk pried his eyes open, drawn by the sound of Romie calling to Hogan. He turned his head, blinking to bring the room into focus. Romie, still seated on the floor, was bent over his CO, one hand cupped to his cheek. Josef was down on one knee, anxiously watching her efforts. Newkirk pushed himself into a sitting position, biting back a moan. The only time he had felt worse was as a teen, when two rival gang members had caught and beaten him for encroaching upon their territory.

"Wake up, Robert." Romie lightly patted Hogan's cheek. His lips parted, a soft sound of pain slipping out. Romie glanced up at Josef. He tugged the blankets down, reached across Hogan's body to grip his good hand.

"Robert . . ." Josef paused, lips tightening with worry. "You are frightening us. Wake up now."

Alarmed, Newkirk sat bolt upright and threw his legs over the side of the couch. The room spun, his stomach executing a nauseating flip. "What's wrong?"

Romie dropped a kiss on Hogan's forehead, murmured something in German too soft for Newkirk to understand. Josef sent a quick, hopeful glance toward the bedroom door. That was enough for Newkirk. Ignoring his own aches and pains, he got to his feet and moved slowly to Josef's side.

"He is warm, but he will not wake," Romie told Newkirk. She lowered her gaze to Hogan's face again, tears filling her blue eyes. Deeply affected by her distress, Newkirk sought to reassure her.

"Could be he's just completely fagged out, Mum."

Romie and Josef glanced from him to each other, their foreheads wrinkling into frowns of bewilderment.

Newkirk chuckled. "Very, very tired." The laughter irritated his raw throat, provoking another cough. He turned his head away from them, contained the cough in his fist.

Hogan looked okay, all things considered. His face definitely had better color and there was no sign of fever that Newkirk could see. He crouched, laid the back of his hand on Hogan's forehead. It felt slightly warmer than normal, but not enough to be alarmed about. The fire and blankets seemed a plausible explanation.

Bracing his elbow on his knee, Newkirk rested his forehead in his palm, being careful to avoid the knot. An idea flitted through his mind, something he had seen Kurt do once.

"Pardon me, Josef." Newkirk nudged the elderly man to one side, then paused, thinking things through a little more. He made brief eye contact with the Metzgers, who were watching him with curious expressions. "Josef, you might want to back up a bit. Mum, you lean back as far as you can." Puzzled but willing, they did as he asked. With them safely out of range, Newkirk put his knuckles to Hogan's sternum and rubbed hard. He got an immediate reaction.

Hogan yelped. His eyes snapped open, his good arm flying up to knock Newkirk's hand away. Knocked off balance, Newkirk sat down hard, a grin already spreading across his face. It did not matter that his head was pounding with renewed vigor or that he had a sore rump to add to his aches. It was all worth it to see Hogan awake.

"Ow," Hogan murmured, blinking up at the ceiling. His voice strengthened, outrage seeping into his tone. "OW!"

Romie laughed in relief. Taking his face between her hands, she leaned down and touched her nose to his then pulled back far enough that he could see her clearly. His eyes rounded in surprise, then softened with a smile.

"Hi." He reached up to touch her face, let his hand drop to cover hers. Newkirk blew out a long sigh, expressing his own relief. Hogan was not only awake – he was lucid.

Josef rested his hand on Hogan's stomach. "Welcome back, Robert."

"I don't know from where, but thank you." Hogan smiled warmly at him, then caught sight of Newkirk, still sitting on the floor nearby. His smile fell away, myriad emotions passing quickly over his face.

"Newkirk."

Newkirk returned to his side, nodded down at him in acknowledgement and satisfaction.

"Colonel."

Hogan's gaze intensified, raked over him. "Are you all right?"

Newkirk opened his mouth to respond, but Josef answered first.

"He is exhausted and has a very bad cough."

Hogan's lips pursed, his eyes moving from Josef back to Newkirk. Anxious to divert his concern, Newkirk rushed to speak.

"I'm not as bad off as Tivoli, Guv'nor –"

"Tivoli?" Hogan interrupted, alarm filling his tone. "What happened to him?"

"He took a bullet in the back. The doc's in with him and Benson now, taking it out."

"How the heck did he get shot? And what're he and Benson doing here, anyway?"

Newkirk quickly filled him in, leaving out the most distressing details in deference to the Metzgers' presence. While he talked, it did not escape his notice that Hogan was not making the slightest attempt to get off the floor. It was completely unlike him, especially with three people hovering over him, and knowing one of his men was badly injured. Newkirk could think of only one reason why Hogan would choose to stay down.

How badly are you hurting, Guv'nor?

Hogan suddenly noticed the bright sunlight streaming into the room through the lace curtains, throwing patterns on the braided rugs. A note of panic entered his voice.

"What time is it? What -- "

Romie put her finger to his chin, nudged his head toward her. "Calm down, Robert. Do not worry. All will work out. You will see this, yes?"

Josef nodded. "Whatever else happens, you and your men are alive."

Newkirk's gaze darted to the bedroom door. "Let's hope it stays that way."

HH HH HH HH HH

Tivoli moaned around the cloth clamped between his teeth, his face haggard and washed of color. Strands of black, soaked hair stuck to his forehead and tears leaked from his eyes. Kurt paused in his work, metal forceps and probe stuck deep in the bloody hole in Tivoli's back. He leaned down; offered quiet words of comfort.

"Just a few moments more. You are doing remarkably well."

A black eye awash in tears and sweat rolled to peer up at Kurt. Garbled words issued from between Tivoli's clenched teeth. Kurt cocked his head, bird-like, then straightened and looked to Benson, seeking translation.

" 'Finish it'." Benson could not have agreed more. He felt slightly woozy from the sickening smell of the blood and his lack of sleep. His attention wandered for a moment. One of his hands, locked upon Tivoli's biceps, slipped on the damp, slippery skin. He quickly re-positioned his hand, steadying and keeping the Italian flat upon the bed. Tivoli shifted,his black eyes seeking the room's only window. Benson glanced that way too; glad to look at something other than Tivoli's suffering.

The sun was high in the sky now, the weather finally clear of rain clouds - a beautiful day. Tivoli uttered a guttural sound and looked up at him, lips twitching into a distorted smile. Benson found the expression on his face easy to read.

A beautiful day and here we are doing this!

Benson smiled. "My thoughts exactly, buddy."

Tivoli seemed to stop breathing, his eyes growing fractionally larger. It took Benson a moment to sort through his words. One leapt out at him.

Buddy.

The cold, hard mask that Tivoli hid behind had been slipping with increasing frequency, each time revealing a little more of the man. And each time it happened, Tivoli seemed to have more trouble putting that mask back on – as if he was no longer comfortable wearing it. Benson looked forward to the time that the mask stayed off for good. There was a good man beneath it. One Benson wanted to call friend. He stared into the startled, black eyes, wondering.

How long has it been since anyone claimed you as a friend? How long has it been since you let them?

Kurt released a small sound of satisfaction, gave a slight twist to the forceps. Tivoli gasped, jerked on the bed. His eyes slammed shut again, his white-knuckled hand knotting the pillowcase. Slowly, in painstaking increments, Kurt withdrew his forceps from his back. Clamped between the instrument's teeth was the flattened, blood-smeared bullet.

"You got it!" Benson's smile quickly fell away, worry surging back. Tivoli had passed out.

Kurt sighed, sadness and weariness clouding his expression. He deposited the forceps and bullet in a pan set on the bedside table, then immersed his hands into the basin of alcohol beside it. The liquid immediately turned pink. Benson took his hands from Tivoli's arms, flexed cramped fingers.

"Is he going to be okay, Doc?"

Kurt studied Tivoli, absently wiping his hands dry with a clean towel. His mouth drew into a thin line. "I believe so."

Benson voiced his other concern. "What about his arm?"

Kurt tossed the towel down next to the basin, took a slow, deep breath. The hesitation only served to increase Benson's unease.

"I cannot say for certain. We will know more once he regains consciousness. Now, if you will excuse me, the wound must be cleaned and sutured and then I must see to the colonel and Newkirk." Kurt paused, stared searchingly into Benson's eyes. "Thank you for your assistance. Your presence appeared to do much to calm Tivoli."

Benson smiled tightly. "He'd do the same for me. If you don't need me for awhile, Doc, I'd like to check on everyone."

Kurt nodded, already turning back to the bed. Benson threw a worried look at Tivoli, then left the room, hoping to find more good news.

HH HH HH HH HH

"Romie and Josef sure had a house full that time. 'Course, it wasn't the first time they'd put up a bunch of us on a moment's notice. No, Katie. They didn't mind at all. It was definitely a case of 'the more the merrier' with them. They opened their hearts to just about everybody, I guess."

"Calling me on that one, are you, Teddy? Clever lad. Don't worry, Katie. He won't get a big head 'cause we won't let him, will we? All right, settle down or there won't be time for the rest of this tale. Huh. Never seen you lot go so quiet so fast. Don't know that your mum and da would ever believe me if I told them."

"Anyroad, Teddy's right. There were a few Romie and Josef didn't like at all. The Gestapo, for one. The SS, for certain sure. And then there was that General . . . hmmmm . . . Ryker! Can't say as I liked any of them, either. And there was . . . well. This teaches me not to make such a general statement, now doesn't it?"

"Look here. It's getting nigh on time for tea. Got to finish this up."

"What's that, Benjamin? Certainly, I've got time for one more question. Always have time for you three, no matter the time nor day. Teddy . . . you've got that look again. I'm in for an early morning ring, aren't I? 'Course, you have to be awake to ring me up. And we all know that you didn't inherit your mum's early morning rising habits. I'm thinking that I'm pretty safe."

"While Teddy's thinking up ways of staying awake all night, why don't you ask your question. Benjamin."

"Romie got so upset because she loved the colonel like her own son, little mate. She and Josef just about adopted every one of us. But the guv'nor . . . well, he always held a special place in their hearts. And they held a special one in his. Romie more than Josef, I think. Why, little mate? Well . . . it would take another whole afternoon to tell that. She was something. A real grand lady."

"Hmmm? Oh. Sorry, Katie. Got lost in time again, didn't I? All right then. Let's get this tale told."

"Well, while we were getting ourselves sorted out at the Metzgers', our mates were still hanging about."

To be continued. Thank you for reading!