The first part of this chapter vanished somewhere during the first posting, along with a few other things that I had added. ::scratches head::

Thank you for your help, Marilyn!

Chapter Nineteen

Hogan's head jerked up as the stump lid flew open. Hands and feet bracketing the ladder's legs, Klaus slid into sight, hit the floor and immediately shoved past him. Hermann bypassed the ladder completely. He dropped feet first into the tunnel, tucked and rolled into a crouching position, then looked back at the entrance and took a gulping breath.

With a muttered oath, Hogan shot past him and up the ladder to close the lid. Hanging on the rungs directly below it, he cocked his head, listening hard for yelling or the wail of the escape siren. Neither came and he let out a sigh of relief. He dropped to the floor and turned on Hermann, who was slowly rising from his defensive position.

"What the heck is wrong with you? If the guards had seen that lid standing open, they would have been down around our heads!"

Hermann's tone was sullen and for the first time, he could not meet Hogan's eyes. "There were dogs out there. There not been the last time we were here. "

Hogan stared at him in surprise. "You don't like dogs?"

"I do not like any animal with teeth larger than my own!" Hermann snapped.

"You're afraid of dogs," Hogan clarified.

Hermann swelled with indignation, his dark complexion growing even darker. "I merely have a healthy respect for sharp, ugly teeth."

"Their breath is not all that wonderful, either," Klaus added, sotto voce.

Hogan scowled. "Let's take this discussion elsewhere. Besides their big teeth, the dogs also have big ears – all the better to hear us with -- and the guards with them have even bigger guns." He turned on his heel and headed deeper into the tunnels, trailing Klaus and Hermann behind him.

The glimpse he had caught of Hermann's ripped and bloodied uniform partially explained Klaus' decision to contact Kurt. What the two men had better explain was how Hermann had been injured in the first place. Judging by the German's acrobatic entrance, Hogan figured he need not worry about his ability to finish the mission.

He made the final turn into the tunnel briefing room. Soon, they would all know what had happened in the bunker and what they were facing.

HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH

Klaus' report was terse, analytical. His words painted an ugly picture of Arkel, the gas, and the scientist's plans for the three helpless prisoners. By the timeKlaus had finished, silence blanketed the room, the men's faces drawn with shock.

Hogan rubbed his forehead. "We're going to need a map of the place. Give us every detail stored in that memory of yours. Entrances, exits, guard stations, the location of the storage bunker and the lab with the prisoners – everything. You saw just the three prisoners, right? The woman, man and boy?"

Klaus fought back the image of their faces as Arkel had prepared to kill them. "Yes. The boy will have to be carried out. One leg is badly deformed. The young man is blind and will need to be led. The old woman never attempted to get up, so I'm not certain how mobile she will be. All three will undoubtedly be weak from their confinement and lack of care."

"You're certain there are only three?"

"I can not be positive, but his exact words were 'our three' . . ." Klaus took a quick breath. "We toured the entire facility and Arkel explained every door, save one. It was guarded and unmarked and he passed it by without comment."

"Probably the kitchen," LeBeau said, sourly regarding Klaus. "Few consider the kitchen important unless they are hungry."

"Actually, the kitchen was one of the first places Arkel showed us." Klaus chuckled at LeBeau's surprise. "He wished us to know that his cooks offered an even better menu than the Hauserhof."

LeBeau sniffed in disdain. "That would hardly be difficult."

"Sleeping quarters for the workers?" Kinch suggested, his dark eyes unfocused in thought.

"Those were in another part of the facility. This door was near the stockpile." Klaus paused, sorting through his memories. "The prisoners were in a cell large enough to easily hold a few dozen people. There were windows in both the wall and the door."

Hogan frowned, narrowed his eyes. "What's your point?" Klaus started to answer, but Hermann – his low voice made even huskier with loathing – overrode him.

"Arkel is sadistic."

The muscles in Newkirk's jumped. "He's an insane monster, is what he is."

"To make the stuff he does?" Carter huffed. "That's a big 'yeah, boy'."

"He enjoys watching others' pain and seems to desire that they, in turn, watch him." Hermann subtly shifted his weight onto one leg. Hogan caught the movement nevertheless and studied him carefully. He was not the only one to notice the German's discomfort. Newkirk casually changed position,ending upslightly closer to Hermann. "In this manner, they would constantly be reminded of his power over their lives. By putting -- "

"He called them 'test subjects'," Klaus spat, his gray eyes bright with hatred for the scientist. "He doesn't even consider them people!"

"They are living like animals in a cage!" LeBeau's voice shook, his fingers curled into tight fists.

"Which is why we can be reasonably certain more prisoners are not behind that unmarked door." Hermann's expression did not change, but Hogan saw him shift again. "A door without a window would allow the prisoners privacy – something Arkel would never grant to those he regards as mere test subjects."

"It sounds like Arkel and Hochstetter are related." Kinch's antipathy for the two men showed on his face.

"Lovely thought, that." Newkirk ground his cigarette butt into the dirt floor, putting more energy into the task than necessary. When he had finished, Hogan noted he was standing even closer to Hermann. Not much got past Newkirk's keen eye. Having picked up on Hermann's discomfort, he was apparently positioning himself to learn the cause.

"Maybe a storeroom?" Hogan tossed out, watching Newkirk out of the corner of his eye. The Englishman's stealthy advance upon Hermann continued.

"Most likely." Klaus suddenly wrinkled his patrician nose. His hand went up, obviously reaching for the mustache.

Newkirk warned him off with a sharp gesture. "Leave it on, mate. You're not done being Herr Field Marshal."

"Can't I simply put it on again before we leave?" Klaus whined.

"You could," Newkirk admitted, then when Klaus happily started to reach for the mustache again, added, "But it will feel all the worse after having been without it."

Klaus made a sound of disgust and clenched his fists at his sides. Hermann reached over and patted him on the shoulder, giving him a look of false sympathy.

Another potential problem suddenly popped into Hogan's mind. "What if someone comes looking for von Rogner at the hotel?"

"I called down to the desk and told the clerk that I would be sleeping and not to allow anyone to disturb me," Klaus said, sticking his hands into his pockets. "Hochstetter is the only one who would dare ignore that order and he has left for Berlin."

The explanation failed to assure Hogan. "You're sure he's really gone?"

"Yes," Klaus replied with grim certainty. "He was very vocal regarding his disappointment at missing the prisoners' execution tomorrow."

Carter shuddered. "Vultures are nicer than that guy."

"All that fuss could have been the front for a trap," Hogan argued, distantlyaware that Newkirk now stood almost shoulder to shoulder with Hermann.

Klaus nodded. "Agreed. But we had Vogt, one of our men with the Gestapo, check before we left the hotel. His information wasenough to convince me that Hochstetter reallyhad leftfor Berlin."

Kinch tucked his hands under his arms and shifted his feet apart. "You're sure you can trust Vogt?"

"Vogt and our other men have repeatedly proven themselves to our satisfaction." Klaus' voice had taken on a cutting edge, as if he did not like anyone questioning his men's loyalty.

"Where is von Rogner?" Hermann looked around the room with interest. While his head was turned away, Newkirk snuck a peek at his back and winced.

LeBeau's expression turned smug. "Sleeping off the meal that I fixed for him."

"He is underground, surrounded by men he does not know and he fell asleep?" Klaus glanced behind himself, then backed up and sat on the corner of table against the wall.

"You did," Newkirk pointed out.

"I had someone watching my back," Klaus countered.

LeBeau's shoulder hitched in a shrug. "The laudanum in his bouillabaisse helped. He was snoring like a babe when I left."

"One of our men is with him just in case he happens to wake up," Kinch hurried to assureHogan.

"For Bosche, he has a very delicate palate," LeBeau added, grinning.

Newkirk's face screwed up in distaste. "That's not saying a lot, seeing as you gave him that ruddy fish stew." Hogan threw a quelling look at LeBeau before the master chef could protest the slur to French cuisine. LeBeau glared at Newkirk, but subsided with obvious reluctance.

"Hey," Carter exclaimed, drawing nearer to Klaus. "How were you able to leave the hotel without anyone seeing you?"

"We climbed down the tree outside our hotel room." Klaus glanced down at himself, ran a hand over von Rogner's uniform. "My uniform seems to have survived the trip." He looked over at Hermann and his expression darkened. "Hermann's, however, will require extensive repair."

Hogan gave single, sharp nod. It was about time they heard the rest of the story. "How was he hurt?"

"'He' is right here." Hermann's voice rang with annoyance.

Klaus spoke as if there had been no interruption. "We created a diversion to keep Arkel from killing the prisoners. Unfortunately, Hermann was injured in the process."

Newkirk reached up and tugged at a tear high on the shoulder of Hermann's uniform. "I wondered when you'd get 'round to explaining all these. Go on, then, Hermann. Give everyone a look."

Hermann's jaw worked for a moment, then he stiffly presented his back. A hiss of sympathy went up from the group and LeBeau quickly averted his gaze. Hogan, however, took a good long look, envisioning the damage beneath the Luftwaffe uniform. Other than a single, small cut on one cheek, Klaus appeared to have escaped unscathed. Hogan wondered if that was because Hermann had protected him.

Carter lightly skimmed a finger over one of the blood-stained rips. "That must have hurt. Probably still does." He glanced over at Klaus. "You blew something up in the lab, didn't you? That was a dangerous thing to do."

"Some might even say a stupid one." Kinch leveled a hard stare at Klaus, who uncharacteristically lowered his gaze.

So you're feeling guilty because Hermann got hurt. Hogan rubbed at his chin, surprised by the pangof empathy he felt for Klaus. He glanced around the room at his men, knowing he would feel no different if one of themgot hurt while protecting him. Shoving that unpleasant thought away, he caught Klaus' eyes.

"What did Kurt have to say about his injuries?" Hogan asked, knowing he would get a truer answer than if he asked Hermann.

Carter's blue eyes widened insurprise. "The doc's in on this now?"

"I am fine," Hermann retorted, glancing back and forth between Klaus and Hogan.

Hogan coolly metthe baleful hazelstare head on. Before he could say anything in response, Kurt stuck his head around the door jamb. Hogan froze, stunned despite Josef's warning, by his friend's sickly appearance.

"Ah, here you are. I apologize for being late." Kurt strode into the room, divesting himself of his coat. With a nod and smile to Klaus and Hermann, he tossed the coat upon the table and turned his attention to Hogan. "Please continue your briefing, Colonel."

The silence that had blanketed the room went on, unbroken by sound or movement.

"Continue, please," Kurt repeated quietly, looking ill at ease.

Hogan cleared his throat. "We were just discussing Hermann's health." But I'd rather we discuss yours!

"And Hermann said he was 'fine'," Hermann growled, clamping his arms across his chest. "Which he is." Irritation passed over his face, and he gave his head a hard shake. "Which I am. I am fine."

"You sound rather addled to me, mate," Newkirk muttered, still worriedly gazing at Kurt.

Hermann looked back at Kurt, daring him to refute the self-diagnosis.

Kinch stirred, his deep voice quieter than normal. "Infection?" he asked the doctor, bringing up one of Hogan's concerns.

Kurt seemed relieved to focus upon the question. "The antiseptic and sulfa powder should ward off that risk. If the dressings are changed, the antibiotic ointment applied, he should - as he claims – be fine." His tone firmed, his gaze coming to rest upon Hogan. "Colonel, what exactly are you preparing to do?"

"We'll talk as soon as I'm done here." Receiving a reluctant nod from Kurt, Hogan turned to Klaus. "Do either of you know anything about bombs?"

"They go 'boom'", Klaus answered with a faint grin.

A smattering of laughter broke out and just as quickly died.

"A few classes with Professor Carter and you'll be fine," Hogan told the two Germans. "He's the best there is when it comes to demolitions."

Hermann chuckled low in his throat. "Yes. We have seen the results of his work. Many times."

Carter's shy smile widened at the implied compliment. Hogan grinned, lightly punched him on the shoulder. "And you say you get no respect." Hogan glanced around, briefly meeting everyone's eyes, then hitched his head toward the tunnel outside. "All right. That's it for now."

Hogan stood back while everyone filed out one by one, each man sharing a few quiet words with Kurt. Klaus and Hermann paused the longest yet said the least, Hogan noticed with interest. The three men simply thumped each other on the shoulder, exchanged words Hogan could not hear, and then Klaus and Hermann went after Carter, who was waiting in the tunnel.Kurt's blue eyes met Hogan's and the painful jolt ofconcern Hogan felt for his friend bled into his tone.

"We definitely have to talk."

To be continued . . . Thank you for reading!