Usual disclaimers apply: I don't own 'Hogan's Heroes' and am only borrowing them for fun, not profit.
Two people sat at the small vanity in Liesel's bedroom, both of them repairing their faces. The young blonde watched as she always did, fascinated by Newkirk's transformation from a handsome, dark haired young man into a grey haired old woman. That process took far longer than her own light touch of lipstick; there was a war on, after all, and the average German civilian simply couldn't afford the prices charged for the few cosmetics that were available.
When the Englishman laid the makeup brush aside and picked up his wig, Liesel left the vanity and went to her closet, moving aside a couple of boxes to pull out a small jewelry case. "This is the last thing I want to take with me, Peter." She held up the leather-bound item for him to see. "I'm going to go and put it in my suitcase while you finish up."
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"Wilson figures that Schultz is out for at least an hour, unless we need him before that." Olsen grinned as he finished his report. "I think we've gotta work on Schultzie a bit though, Colonel. He was gettin' a little suspicious there at the end; in fact he even asked Joe outright about the salt tablet." The Sergeant shook his head and finished off the water in the tin cup that Le Beau had given him when he'd entered the barracks.
Hogan nodded and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Great, something else to worry about today. Newkirk's way overdue; and now Schultz is asking questions of Wilson of all people. The medic was an important part of the operation, as not only did some of the escaping prisoners that passed through the tunnels need medical attention, so did some of Hogan's own men on occasion. The Colonel ignored the fact that he was often in need of Wilson's ministrations himself as he considered the implications of what Olsen had just said. I try to keep him out of things as much as possible, so that everyone from Klink on down sees Wilson as basically harmless. Well, done is done, and that was a good move on Olsen's part to take Schultz to the infirmary after the scuffle at the soccer game, and a good catch on Wilson's part to send our favorite Kraut to dreamland for a while.
"Ok, we've got some breathing room, at least until Klink goes on the warpath. Thanks, Olsen. That was some quick thinking on your end." Hogan paused, then suddenly grinned. "Just remind me to never let Wilson play bartender."
The laughter that followed Hogan's wry comment didn't last long, as each man's thoughts turned to the problem at hand. Where in the hell was Newkirk?
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The Englishman took a cautious peek through the bedroom curtains, nodding in satisfaction as the street in front of Liesel's apartment seemed clear. A final look around the room assured him that everything was fine there as well; the bed was neatly made, and he knew that the clothing left in the closet and bureau was arranged so that a later search would be unable to reveal exactly how much the young woman had taken with her.
Liesel was just coming out of the kitchen when Newkirk entered the sitting room. "All is in order?" the two asked simultaneously, causing them to break out in quiet laughter. The German national slogan had become something of a private joke between them when Liesel had asked Newkirk in those very words if he had his costume in place before leaving her apartment after his first visit.
"We sound like an old married couple, don't we love?" The Englishman took the German woman's hands and drew her down onto the sofa with him. He kept his hands clasped around hers and looked into her pale blue eyes while he searched for the words he wanted to say.
Caught by Newkirk's sudden change in demeanor, Liesel sat quietly while a thoughtful look came over her Englander's face. His next words, however, brought an unexpected, but welcome joy to her heart.
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"Colonel, why not let me fix the Kommandant's uniform?" Le Beau looked over at his commanding officer from where he stood next to the stove in the common room. "Newkirk has been teaching me about alterations, and I already know how to do straight seamwork."
Kinch looked up from the worn Hopalong Cassidy novel that he was trying to distract himself with while on break from the radio room. "Hey, that's not a bad idea." He nodded appreciatively in the Frenchman's direction. "We could say that Newkirk hurt his hand and can't do any sewing; that way, Klink'll have to go along with it."
Hogan started to take a sip from his cup, but remembered just in time that it had long since gone cold, and set it down with a sigh. "If push comes to shove, we just might have to try that. But you fellas know how Klink is; if he's got it in mind that only Newkirk can do the work, then he won't accept anyone else."
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"There's something I've wanted to say to you for a long time, Liesel, and if I don't say it now, I may never get the chance again." Newkirk took a deep breath, and quietly asked, "Will you marry me?"
The young woman's eyes never left her Englander's green ones as he spoke, and when he asked the question she had so longed to hear, all she could do at first was nod in reply as tears gathered, threatening to spill down her cheeks. Finally, she found her voice, whispering "Ja. I will."
"We'll have to wait until the end of the war," Newkirk said, untangling one of his hands to reach over and gently wipe away the tears as they flowed freely from Liesel's eyes at the thought of having to wait before they could be married. "Here now, love, it won't go on forever, you know." He leaned forward and took her in a tight embrace, kissing her as if it was for the last time. In his heart, he knew it would be, as once they left the apartment, they had to go back to their respective roles until they parted. Reluctant to let go, but knowing they only had a matter of minutes before the car arrived to take Liesel from town, Newkirk finally let go and sat back.
The Englishman unpinned a small silver watch from the blouse he was wearing, and placed it in Liesel's hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around it. "I haven't got a ring to give you, but take this as my token until I can put a ring on your finger," he said quietly.
Liesel's face broke into a smile as she pulled a ring from her other hand. "Ah, but I have one for you." She tried to put the band on Newkirk's ring finger, and laughed softly when it wouldn't fit. He chuckled and guided her to place it on his little finger instead, where it fit as if it had been made for him. The Englishman turned his hand up to study the flat onyx stone set on the wide gold band. Liesel ran her fingertips over the stone and answered the question in his eyes. "It belonged to my grandfather, Peter. Now I want you to have it." Newkirk nodded silently and took her in his arms once again, and neither of them moved until it was time to go.
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Carter was taking his turn at monitoring the radio, hoping that Newkirk would call in at some point and let everyone know what was going on. His eyes traveled over the dials, resting on the still pointers that would jump to life only if there were any traffic on the airwaves. From there, he looked at the telephone switchboard that was wired into the camp's phone lines, but it too remained silent and still.
Sighing, the young Sergeant turned his attention back to the Jacob's Ladder he was weaving between his fingers to help pass the time. The complexities of the children's game of cat's cradle were an endless source of fascination for Carter, and he could spend hours with the simple loop of string that was the only thing needed to play. He was starting to think he'd actually been at it for hours when he heard footsteps coming down the route to the 'emergency' tunnel toward the central hub of the complex warren that ran below the prison camp.
Hastily untangling his fingers from the string, Carter reached up and slapped the lever that activated a signal in the barracks above his head before he took off down the tunnel toward the sounds he was hearing. He rounded a bend and skidded to a halt when he saw a 'little old lady' standing next to the makeup table taking off 'her' hat and wig. "Newkirk!" Relief at seeing the Englishman safely back mixed in his voice with the anxiety of the long wait and all the problems above ground. "Do you know what time it is? You should have been back hours ago!"
Newkirk grinned at the American as he ran his hand through his flattened hair. "Easy there, Andrew. I'm back now, aren't I?" He dropped the costume parts on the table along with the reticule and shopping bag as he sat down to remove his shoes. "What's got you so worked up then?"
Carter didn't get a chance to answer as Kinch's deep voice cut in. "What kept you? And it better not have been because you were off chasin' some fraulein as usual!"
"It probably was, knowing Pierre." Le Beau chimed in right behind the Sergeant's words.
This time, it was Newkirk that didn't get the chance to answer as Hogan stepped around the men to fix a long, level look on the Englishman. "You'd better have a good explanation for being so late, Corporal, but right now, we don't have time to hear it." The Colonel's tone promised that there would be time later, and that the explanation had better be a good one. "Get changed and get upstairs as fast as you can. You and your sewing basket were wanted in the Kommandant's quarters some time ago."
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A steady snowfall made it nearly impossible to see as two black-clad men made their way through the forest. Hogan tried to cheer himself up with the thought that while the lousy weather held Germany in its frozen grip on this freezing February night, he hoped that the conditions would keep the Fatherland's soldiers inside with their schnapps glasses in hand.
Following in the Colonel's wake, Newkirk, though he silently cursed the cold and snow, was actually glad to be out even on such a night. They were due to meet Danzig, and were expecting to be given the schedule for the next railroad shipment of munitions to the Russian front.
Danzig crouched behind a fallen tree, carefully watching and listening for any signs of movement in the darkness. The Underground leader frowned as he thought of the message he was carrying, and wished he didn't have to deliver it. When the signal flashed from the far side of the clearing, he returned it and cautiously made his way through the trees to meet his contacts. After a quick handshake, Danzig gave Hogan an envelope containing the timetable, and waited until the American had put it safely away before he said anything. "Colonel, I need to talk to you in private for a moment."
At Hogan's nod, Newkirk shrugged and moved away from the two men until he was out of earshot, though not out of visual range. Privacy was one thing, but carelessness was something none of them could afford. Once the Englishman was far enough off, Danzig stepped closer to Hogan and spoke softly into the American's ear. "I have some very bad news for Newkirk, but I wanted to tell you first so you could be ready to help him deal with it. I received a message from Leipzig yesterday." The German paused and shook his head before he continued. "Fräulein Liesel died a few weeks ago."
Danzig went silent for a moment, giving Hogan time to absorb the news. "Unfortunately, I don't have many details, but it seems to have been a sudden illness, as the last word from her in November indicated that all was well."
Hogan stared at Danzig, stunned by what the German had said. He reached out and put a hand on the other man's shoulder, though he wasn't sure if he was offering comfort or seeking it for himself. "Dear God," he said quietly. "This is..." The American's voice trailed off as he visibly pulled himself together. "Do you want me to tell Newkirk for you?", he asked, offering to relieve Danzig of his burden.
The German shook his head. "Nein, meine Freund. I have carried messages between the two of them all year long." Danzig reached up and put his hand over the American's for a moment before stepping away. "Vielen Dank, Colonel Hogan. It is my task to carry this last one as well; it will be your task to help Peter afterwards."