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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"I don't understand," Newkirk said again, shaking his head as he flicked some ash from his cigarette onto the ground outside the barracks. "Why does the gov'nor want us to be nice to this Major Schafer? I thought he was dead set against being used as propaganda for the Krauts."

"Yeah, that guy's nothin' but trouble," Carter agreed.

"With a capital T," Le Beau added.

"I know that, and you know that. But the Colonel thinks if he can get Schafer on his side—" Kinch began.

"Which doesn't look so hard to do at the moment—he's been at us every day trying to get us to convince Colonel Hogan to talk to him," Newkirk put in.

Kinch nodded. "That's right. If he can get Schafer to really listen to him, maybe he can give him a bit of information that just isn't quite right."

"And that will get passed on to Berlin," Le Beau predicted, nodding.

"And then that'll make the filthy swine think there's something going on they need to know about," Newkirk continued.

"Anywhere but in Berlin," Kinch finished.

"Like what?" asked Carter.

Kinch shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is, the Colonel plans to get real cushy with Schafer, real soon, and we need to play along, whatever he comes up with."

Newkirk made a face. "It's like kissing Hitler on the mouth."

"Yeah, well, I guess that's why he's the Colonel and we're the non-coms. I prefer girls."

Le Beau let out a humorless laugh. "London's going to owe le Colonel a week in Paris after this is over."

"Just a week?" Kinch countered. "More like a month."

"Don't be so greedy."

"Hey, if you're going to dream the impossible, Le Beau, you might as well dream big."

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"Colonel Hogan, can I talk to you a minute?"

Hogan looked up from the book he was reading and studied the serious look on Carter's face. "Of course, Carter. Come in." He put the book aside and swung his legs off the bunk, carefully stretching out his left leg and tenderly rubbing around the knee. He watched as the Sergeant moved in with some reluctance. "What's on your mind?"

"Well… Colonel… I was just wondering…" Carter shifted feet reluctantly, his eyes looking at everything in the room except Hogan. He screwed up his face as though trying to decide what to say.

Hogan frowned. "Carter? Something wrong?"

Carter twitched his mouth again. "Well, no, sir, not really. I mean it's just that—" He stopped and shrugged self-deprecatingly. "Well, I guess I just don't understand what's going on."

Hogan's concern melted into gentle tolerance. He gestured toward the stool near his desk. "Take the weight off your feet, Carter. What are you trying to figure out?" he asked.

Carter brought the stool over near Hogan and sat down. "Well, before, you said you didn't want anything to do with Major Schafer. And now you want us to be nice to him. And you're gonna talk to him!" He frowned. "I didn't think you had anything to say to him."

Hogan nodded, understanding. "I don't," he admitted.

Carter looked at Hogan, confused. "Sir?"

"Carter," Hogan continued, "I need to use Schafer to get false information to Berlin about what the Allies are planning to do. And the only way to do that is for him to think I'm on his side. And the best way to do that is to fill him with so much chatter that it just falls into line with everything else I come up with."

"But what are you going to say?"

At this, Hogan paused. "Well, he wants to know what happened… in the car accident," he said with surprising difficulty. "He wants me to tell him I was treated like a king."

Carter's eyes widened. "Colonel, you're not going to—"

Hogan shook his head. "I can't remember anything clearly, Carter, even if I wanted to tell him the truth. I'll give him some generic facts, draw him in, and then I'll feed in a few other bits."

"How are you gonna do that?"

Hogan was beginning to wish this conversation had never started. It took him a long time to answer. "I'll tell him the story about me talking to Kleinschmidt."

Carter couldn't believe his ears. After Hogan learned that the young German guard had died immediately in the car crash, he had spoken to no one about his trauma—no one. From that moment on, he had steadfastly refused to repeat the details of the long talks he had said he and Kleinschmidt had while waiting for rescue, knowing that they had been confirmed by Corporal Langenscheidt. Which left Hogan with a painful conundrum that he had not been able to resolve: either he had made everything up and was, by some major coincidence, right; or some part of Kleinschmidt had stayed with Hogan in the car, and helped the Colonel to survive. Logic told him it had to be the former. But something inside him was adamant it was the latter. And that was something he had not been able to face, and that his nightmares had not allowed him to forget.

Carter looked at Hogan now, his own concern showing on his face. "Colonel, are you sure that's—"

"If Schafer will fall for that, he'll fall for anything," Hogan said, avoiding the Sergeant's eyes. "God knows everyone else has," he added in a whisper. Snatches of his dreams about Kleinschmidt echoed in his mind. Please keep talking to me. It makes this less frightening.

Carter could see the pain the idea was causing his commanding officer and couldn't let it go. "Everyone but you, sir?" he asked softly.

Hogan's bowed head now jerked up in Carter's direction. "It'll be fine," he said, sounding almost angry. Carter understood and did not take the bait. "He'll get the little ghost story he wants, and then he'll be more than willing to believe a few other things Kleinschmidt supposedly 'said': like that the Krauts need to concentrate their defensive power on Stuttgart, or Bonn, or Hamburg. Once he falls for one tall tale, he'll naturally fall for a second."

Carter pursed his lips for a moment, thinking. Hogan looked away, absentmindedly massaging his leg as his mind traveled back to the accident and those terrible hours trapped in the car, wondering if he would live long enough to see his rescue. If he could just use that ordeal to help the Allies, maybe he would be able to put it to rest. At least enough to do his job properly as senior officer in this camp—enough to protect the men from people like Lehmann, and worse.

"Do you really think it was all in your mind, Colonel?" Carter asked finally.

"It had to be, Carter," Hogan answered quietly. "Kleinschmidt died right away. I was by myself the whole time."

"Sometimes… when we think we're all alone," Carter said, his voice soft and tentative, "that's when Someone Else is looking out for us."

Hogan closed his eyes and stilled his hand. "Are you saying you think Kleinschmidt's spirit really stayed behind so I could hang on till we were found?" he asked unwillingly.

Carter shrugged. "I don't know who was there with you, Colonel," he answered honestly. "But I sure know you weren't alone. You needed help… and help was there."

Hogan couldn't answer that. His mind spun as he once again felt the dizziness that came every time he tried to resolve this war waging within him. "I need to get the Germans away from Berlin," he whispered. "This is the only way I can think of."

Carter grinned as Hogan finally raised his eyes to meet the Sergeant's. "That's okay, Colonel," he said encouragingly. "Whoever was with you that day, was sure on your side. They probably won't mind getting used to help the good guys again."

Hogan tried to smile back, but he failed.

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"How's this, Colonel?" Newkirk asked, handing over the sheet of paper he had spent the better part of thirty minutes working on.

Hogan took the offered document from the Englishman and studied it. "'While Colonel Hogan was being rescued, he revealed…'" He muttered along more of the letter, testing the flow of the writing. He nodded approval as he continued, "'…and while still in a semi-conscious state, Hogan said Corporal Kleinschmidt told him that German officials should be concentrating their defensive batteries at Stuttgart and Bremen, because the Allies are planning…'" He kept reading, the concentration evident on his face. "'…and all personal details spoken by Colonel Hogan when still under sedation were confirmed by another guard at Stalag 13, Corporal Karl Langenscheidt…'" Hogan's voice fell to a whisper, his face turning sad, then unreadable, "'which leaves little doubt as to the vital importance of the other statements from Colonel Hogan regarding the imminent plans of the Allies, and I leave it to your discretion…'"

Hogan nodded the rest of the letter away and handed it back to Newkirk. "That date for the Stuttgart attack is right?"

"Yes, sir, six days after the accident," Newkirk replied with a nod. "And Bremen was two nights later."

"Very good," Hogan said tersely, looking away.

At that moment the door to Hogan's office opened and Schultz entered unannounced. Newkirk immediately drew the paper out of sight, as Hogan turned to greet the guard, his tone all business. "What can we do for you, Schultz?"

Schultz approached the desk. "Colonel Hogan, Captain Lehmann is finished with his inspection of the barracks. He is in Kommandant Klink's office, cataloging what he has collected for his report."

Hogan didn't try to hide his sour look. "Thanks, Schultz."

"Are you going to go talk to him?" the guard asked hopefully.

"Yeah, Schultz. I'll be along in a minute."

"Jawohl," Schultz replied. Then, noting the look on Hogan's face did not invite further conversation, he turned to Newkirk, who also fixed him with a cold stare. The guard shrugged and departed.

Newkirk pulled the paper back out with a sigh of relief. "Slip that into the paperwork Lehmann's got piled up in Klink's office," Hogan said. "Make sure it's near the top."

"Right, sir."

"Now let's get Carter and Le Beau. It's time to clean up Klink's office. And this time we're really gonna clean it."

"Right away, gov'nor."

Hogan sighed and paused to gather his thoughts before he followed Newkirk out the door. Forgive me, Gunter, for what I'm about to do.