Chaper Three
Hogan found his radio man lounging comfortably against the wall outside of Barracks Two, a candy bar held aloft like a flag from between thumb and forefinger. Kinch had a wide smile on his face, and looked as if he were still fighting back laughter.
Hogan plucked the chocolate away and stuffed it into his pocket. "Easy pickings."
"I wouldn't look so smug if I were you," Kinch replied in a good-natured grumble. "What about the brother? Kurt's cousin? Didn't you almost cross swords with him at the farm?"
"We stayed in the back room of the house the whole time he was there. He couldn't have seen us." Hogan started to go inside, then smoothly reversed course and joined Kinch in slouching against the barracks wall. He tried folding his arms, but was hindered by the bouquet. He settled for tapping it against his leg as he contemplated the sky.
"On the other hand, why would -- "
"The brother show up here now?" Kinch finished, his eyes locked upon the flowers flopping against Hogan's leg.
"Cousin Klaus' appearance is probably just a coincidence. We all know Klink's been chasing Risa. Somehow, he managed to finally wangle a date but got saddled with her brother in the bargain." Hogan's eyebrows drew together and his voice dropped to a murmur. "Why would she suddenly do a one-eighty?" A particularly forceful tap sent a wild daisy nose-diving to the dirt.
Kinch's hand twitched toward the bouquet. "Sudden insanity?"
"It couldn't be because she's actually attracted to old beak-nose." Hogan's hand and the flowers, stilled against his leg.
Kinch sighed. An instant later, Hogan absently began rolling the bouquet back and forth against his leg. The flowers shivered and shook at the mistreatment. Another wild daisy bit the dust. Kinch's fingers flexed involuntarily.
"What about that brunette countess? The one we thought we'd made up? She sure seemed to be enjoying herself that night Klink brought you the champagne." Kinch watched the flight of another flower, this time a delicate, lavender bloom, as it fluttered to the ground.
"Pure fluke. Two women like that in his lifetime?" Hogan's eyes narrowed even further before turning accusingly in Kinch's direction. "Wait a minute. You said just this morning that a woman like Risa would never have anything to do with a guy like Klink."
"There's no accounting for a woman's taste," Kinch quipped, flashing a smile. The bouquet swung outward, headed for another crash-landing against Hogan's leg. Kinch's boxing reflexes kicked in and he snatched the flowers away mid-swing.
Having been liberated of the bouquet, Hogan folded his arms against his chest. "Regardless of how Klink got into Risa's good graces, the question remains -- is cousin Klaus' visit to our fair Stalag a coincidence or not?"
"Care to make another wager?"
Hogan's tone abruptly turned business-like. "This one's too important, Kinch. If we're not careful, we could all end up losers. Tell Schultz you need to put the flowers in Klink's quarters. While you're there, put a bug as close to the table as you can get. Klink and his guests are going to have a ringside audience."
"Yes, sir," Kinch murmured, distracted by the limp, thoroughly pitiful looking bouquet in his hand. Gently, he jostled and fluffed the flowers. A heavy shower of petals fell to earth like bits of a rainbow. Bare stems protruded from his fist.
Hogan leaned over slightly and studied the dusting of color at their feet.
"Flowers sure don't last long, do they? Sorry, Kinch. Guess you'll have to pick some more."
Kinch stared at him for a moment, then with a deep sigh and shake of his head, tossed the bunch of deflowered stems over his shoulder and marched away.
HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH*HH
"They hit again last night."
Klaus laid down his pen and looked up from his work. Hermann Nuechterlein, his lieutenant and best friend stood before him. "Where this time?"
"The old Düssel trestle bridge." Hermann relinquished the nightly report and clasped his hands at his back, settling into parade rest. His eyes, amber and with a slight tilt, stared hard at the space over Klaus' head.
Little good had come from stationing troops at the rail crossing. From what the sole surviving soldier related before he died, a Gestapo officer riding in a sidecar had arrived at the bridge shortly before 0200 hours. A surprise inspection of the security detail followed. The inspection had apparently been a distraction, allowing sabotage forces time to plant demolition charges. Not long after the officer's departure, the bridge had gone up. It would take months to rebuild it again. The more difficult task would be protecting it from another attack once it was again ready for use.
Adding the report to the others on his desk, Klaus leaned back in his chair and gently swiveled back and forth.
"They are certainly not lacking in boldness."
"Nor imagination." Hermann no longer looked quite as relaxed. His shoulders twisted restlessly, straining the material of his gray Wehrmacht uniform. "Time after time, we are two steps behind them. Somehow, we must anticipate their next move. Plot out the most likely targets and wait for them there."
"Nothing has changed since the last time we discussed this. We have neither the manpower nor the time. The best course of action will be to continue as we have."
"And hope for a change in fortune," Hermann rumbled. His expression abruptly went blank.
Klaus sighed. Only one person in the whole of headquarters could provoke such a reaction. Rolling his chair away from his desk, he slowly got to his feet and turned. Colonel Dinske, commander of Wehrmacht headquarters, hovered on the threshold to his office like a vulture looking for a kill. A completely baldpate and beaked nose added to the impression. Dinske's deep-set eyes settled upon Klaus and his chin jerked in a silent, arrogant summons. Keeping his annoyance tightly in check, Klaus entered the office and closed the door, sealing them away from the rest of the squad. He marched between the two crimson-cushioned chairs and came to attention.
"Captain, are you aware of how long I have been in command of this post?" Dinske asked conversationally from behind a desk of polished mahogany.
"Nein, Herr Colonel."
"Two years." Silence spun out while Dinske stared fixedly across the desk. "In that time, many men have passed through this post." Another lengthy pause followed during which Klaus counted cracks in the wall behind Dinske's head. Outside the office, a phone rang, a door slammed and voices rose and fell in conversation. "Some have moved on due to promotion, others have moved on due to less . . . pleasant reasons. You have shown great promise in the short time you have been my second in command. You are organized, you carry out your duties efficiently and without prompting, and you remain calm in every situation."
Praise from Dinske could only mean one thing. He was setting Klaus up, to make the fall that much harder. It was the kind of petty thing that Dinske enjoyed doing. The fall would come as soon as Dinske felt the drama had been built enough.
"If you continue to set such an example, I may be forced to reward you." The desk chair squealed as it was relieved of Dinske's bulk. Moving slowly, he circled the desk and stopped directly in front of Klaus. The odor of his cologne was suffocating and Klaus' nose scrunched in distaste before he could stop himself. He could only hope the reaction would be seen as surprise.
"Is there something that you would like to say?" Dinske questioned with false interest, lacing his fingers over his large belly.
Klaus took a shallow breath of air. "If I have performed my duties satisfactorily, Herr Colonel, it is due only to your excellent guidance."
"Oh, very good, Leidel, very good. Your groveling is improving." Dinske's voice lowered and his mock expression of civility disappeared. "You will do well to keep me happy. I can break you just as easily as I can reward you. Your father's name and reputation mean little now."
"Understood, Herr Colonel." Klaus sighed to himself. Either Dinske was bored and wanted to have a little fun at his second's expense, or he had been on the receiving end of a dressing down from Berlin and wanted to pass along the punishment.
Dinske's thin lips drew back in an ugly smile. Klaus steeled himself for the next bit of unpleasantness.
"I met your father once at a state function. We spoke for some time. It was a most interesting conversation. He was a man of much wisdom and talent - very highly revered. But then, you know that, don't you? It was common knowledge that he was one of three men seriously being considered for the Führer's personal staff. But then for some unfathomable reason, he committed suicide. Stress, perhaps? A previously unknown character flaw?" Dinske's small eyes gleamed with malice when Klaus' hands clenched into fists. "What a shame that the son and daughter must bear his sad legacy for the rest of their lives."
Fury painted the office walls the color of blood. Klaus focused upon his objective, upon his ultimate reason for submitting to Dinske's sadistic nature. Calm descended, cooling his hatred and relaxing his hands. Without a trace of animosity, he replied, "Jawohl, Herr Colonel."
Dinske gazed at him steadily, appearing disappointed by the lack of reaction. With a haughty sniff, he went to a wall map of their area.
Klaus shuddered. He felt like the lowest of traitors for allowing such slurs upon his father to go unchallenged. Swallowing hard, he hid the self-loathing before Dinske had a chance to see it.
"You realize, of course, Leidel, that because of your father's suicide, you can never attain the rank he held at the time of his death. But some advancement is possible if you continue performing your duties to my satisfaction. You have carried out every assignment well but for a single exception." Dinske's conversational tone disappeared. "And that is your inability to eliminate or even curtail the high level of sabotage activity in this area. When I took you on, I believed that you could do what others have failed to do. I do not like to be proven wrong, Leidel. You will step up the patrols. Bring in the people responsible for the destruction. Or I will show you what happens when I lose patience." Dinske swaggered back to his chair. "That is all for now. Return to your work."
Klaus saluted and pivoted, eager to leave.
"One more thing."
Neutral expression glued in place, Klaus obediently turned back.
"File these maps and see that Nuechterlein has my spare boots polished. I stepped in a puddle this morning outside the bakery."
After calmly accepting the maps, Klaus walked to the closet and retrieved the boots. He made certain to salute once more, then made his escape. He went straight for Hermann and silently delivered the muddied boots. Hermann stared dispassionately at the footwear and dried mud liberally sprinkled across his blotter. His eyes slowly rose upward, silently questioning.
Klaus pressed his lips tightly together. If he opened his mouth, he would say something best left for safer places.
Hermann nevertheless understood. Sending a hard glance toward Dinske's closed door, he snatched up the footwear and headed for the locker room.
Klaus watched him go, his mind returning to Dinske's cruelty. Maybe, just maybe, if the boots were polished highly enough, the shine would blind Dinske and he would step out in front of a truck. Growling beneath his breath, he set off for the map room.
We couldn't possibly be so lucky.