Stalag 13, Barracks Two
July 18, 1944, 0210 hours
Author's Note: This chapter contains scenes and dialogue from the episode Operation Briefcase, written by Laurence Marks. They have been used without permission.
"We had to stop and let him rest on the way back, sir," Newkirk said somberly. He was sitting at the table in the barracks after having returned with Kinch from meeting Hercules, a courier from London. "When he was conscious, he talked."
"Yeah, before he passed out, he told us this General Stauffen is part of a gang of German brass that's getting ready to assassinate Hitler," Kinch explained. "The General got in touch with the Underground and asked for a special type of bomb … delayed action."
"And this is it?" Hogan asked, pointing at the briefcase on the table.
"False bottom and sides," Kinch said, picking up the briefcase. "And it's loaded with a new lightweight explosive. The timer is in the latch, right here." He pointed to the briefcase latch. "When you use the bottom slot, the timer is activated."
"Thirty minutes later," Newkirk added, snapping his fingers. "Up she goes."
"Stauffen has a duplicate of this briefcase, huh?" Hogan asked.
"Right," Kinch confirmed. "Hercules' mission is to get this to us so that the bags can be switched when the General gets here."
"And Stauffen is using his position on the Führer's staff to arrange this inspection trip so that he can pick up the bomb," Hogan said.
"That's about the size of it, Colonel," Newkirk said.
Hogan turned to see Sergeant Wilson, one of the camp's three medics, leading a procession of men from his office.
"He was most likely dead when you brought him in," Wilson said, handing Hogan the man's dog tags.
"He tried to bring him around, Colonel," Carter said.
"This lousy war," LeBeau said with a scowl.
"It's a mugs game, I'll tell you that," Newkirk said. He stubbed out his cigarette. "A filthy rotten mugs game."
"Nothing could have saved him, Colonel," Wilson said. "Never had a chance."
"Okay, Sergeant," Hogan said, staring at the dog tags in his hand.
"Wish I could have done more," Wilson said dejectedly as he walked away. LeBeau gave the man a pat on the back as he passed.
Hogan contemplated the dog tags in his hand – and their meaning. He hated to see Allied men get killed in the line of duty – let alone in his quarters. And this time, it was just to deliver a briefcase full of explosives so that some lousy Kraut General could try to kill the nut that they had put into power and had started this whole war. "Kinch, get in touch with London, tell them what happened," he ordered. "Make sure they understand that Hercules completed his mission."
"Right," Kinch said, standing to head to the tunnel.
When Kinch left, Hogan reached over and picked up the briefcase. "This plan better work," he said. "It's already got an expensive price tag on it." The men were silent as Hogan retreated to his office.
- - - - -
Hogan sat in the chair in his office, staring alternately at the briefcase on his table and the covered lifeless form of Hercules that still remained in his bottom bunk. He didn't mind death – he had seen it many times, and caused it almost as often. But this one bothered him, and he didn't fully understand why.
"So they want to assassinate Hitler," he muttered. "Why send the briefcase this way? Why use us?"
He knew the answer. It was the easiest way to get things from London. "And Papa Bear has the best track record in the Underground," he said with a sigh.
It was wartime, and good men die – and he knew that, but he didn't have to like it.
"This plan of theirs better work," he mumbled, repeating the words he said in the outer room to the dead man. "I'd hate to see your life wasted."
- - - - -
Hogan glanced at his watch. It was time for the switch to happen. "It's a little warm in here, isn't it?" Hogan asked, rising from his chair to head to the window.
"You Americans apparently have no capacity for brandy," Stauffen said with a laugh. The remark caused Klink to laugh along with the General.
"I'm a buttermilk man myself," Hogan said, throwing open the windows of the Kommandant's quarters.
At that moment, the lights went out, causing a commotion from the Germans inside the quarters. Hogan reached out and grabbed the briefcase from LeBeau, who was dangling from the roof, and handed him the bag that Stauffen brought with him. He quickly put the explosive case down on the table where the other bag had been and waited for the lights to come on.
When the lights came on, Klink was at a loss to explain the situation. "General, we hardly ever have any electrical failure here at Stalag 13," Klink said.
"That's right General," Hogan said. "And the Kommandant's on top of every snafu instantly – like a vulture swooping down on its prey." Klink puffed his chest out in pride.
"Commendable," Stauffen said.
"I bet he's dying to investigate the cause of the blackout right now," Hogan said.
Klink suddenly looked shocked. "I am?" he asked. When everyone looked back at him, Klink suddenly smiled. "Yes sir, I am," he said.
"Well in that case, go ahead," Stauffen said.
"General, General, you are my guest," Klink babbled. "This gathering is in your honor."
"Don't be bashful!" Hogan prodded.
"Of course not," Stauffen agreed.
"No really, I … I … I …" Klink stammered. He stopped when he saw it was a losing battle. "I was just about to excuse myself, sir," he said.
"You're excused," Stauffen said promptly. "Major, perhaps you can be of assistance to Colonel Klink."
"Jawohl, Herr General," his aide replied.
Klink, still looking shocked at the turn of events, saluted. "Thank you, sir," he said before walking to the door to leave. Before he left, he turned around and saluted again. "Thank you," he said blandly and left the room with Stauffen's aide, Major Gunther, following.
Stauffen turned to the waiter who was standing by the kitchen. "You are excused," he said. The waiter bowed and left the room.
When he was gone, Hogan walked over and picked up the briefcase. "We made the switch during the blackout," he said.
"You are very resourceful, Colonel," Stauffen said, walking over to Hogan.
"Yeah," Hogan commented. "This bottom latch activates the timer. Once it starts you've got exactly thirty minutes to get away."
"I understand," Stauffen said, taking the case from Hogan. "Thirty minutes is all I will need." He began examining the briefcase with what Hogan thought was an arrogant air of superiority.
"This caper of yours better come off," Hogan said. "We lost a man to give you what you asked for."
"Don't worry," Stauffen replied smugly. "We are determined to destroy this fool at any cost."
"I know who the fool is, but who's we?" Hogan asked.
Stauffen fixed his arrogant gaze on the American Colonel. "The greatest military minds Germany has ever produced," he said, walking over to face a portrait of the Führer hanging on the wall. "He dares call himself Supreme Commander." Stauffen turned his back on the portrait. "We'll put him out of business, I promise you."
Hogan couldn't believe the arrogance of this man. If I knew I could get away with it, I'd punch him right in the nose. "It's the least you could do … considering," Hogan said.
"Considering what?" Stauffen asked.
"Considering you're the same bunch of guys that put him in business," Hogan said with a tinge of hostility.
- - - - -
Kinch watched as Schultz picked up the briefcase to carry it to the General's car. He was shocked when he saw the Sergeant fasten the loose flap in the bottom latch. "Hey Colonel, did you see that?" he asked, stepping up to Hogan.
"What happened?" Hogan asked, looking around.
"Schultz. He picked up the briefcase. He activated the timer," Kinch said.
"You sure?" Hogan asked.
"No question about it, Colonel," Newkirk confirmed.
"Hmm, one of their generals is missing and doesn't even know it yet," LeBeau commented.
"Does Stauffen know it happened?" Hogan asked.
"No, I don't think he saw it," Kinch replied.
Hogan looked at his watch. "That means we've got slightly less than thirty minutes," he said.
"What'll we do?" Carter asked.
"Carter, LeBeau – get lost … disappear," Hogan ordered.
"Where?" Carter asked.
"Get over to the motor pool," he replied. "Wait for me there and keep out of sight."
"Right," LeBeau said as he and Carter hurried away.
Hogan was not happy. Damn! First Hercules dies bringing the case from London and now Stauffen could buy it on his way to meet Hitler – all because of an ignorant German Sergeant.
- - - - -
Hogan was impatient – why wouldn't Schultz quit talking? He kept tapping the big man on the shoulder and pointing to where LeBeau and Carter were yelling and trying to attract their attention. Finally, Schultz noticed them. "There they are!" he exclaimed happily, pointing towards the two prisoners.
"The prisoners!" Major Gunther said. "Arrest them!" He took off towards the prisoners with Schultz and the roadside guard following.
As soon as they had gone, Hogan reached over and grabbed the briefcase from Stauffen. He unclasped the flap and handed it back to a stunned Stauffen, who stared at it in disbelief.
Hogan let out his breath as he looked at his watch. "Nothing to it. Fifteen seconds to spare," he said.
The men were silent as the recaptured prisoners were led back to the truck. As he passed, Major said, "Everything is clear, General. I think we may proceed."
"Very well," Stauffen said. When the Major walked away, Stauffen turned to Hogan. "Hogan, you saved my life, and our cause," he said. "How can I thank you?"
"When you see Hitler, make sure the meeting goes over with a bang," Hogan replied.
- - - - -
Hogan was silent as he drove the truck back to camp. He had a bad feeling about this plan. It had started off wrong – with Hercules getting killed delivering the case. It had gone wrong when Schultz activated the bomb without knowing it. Hogan knew he was lucky to have been able to stop it before it blew up, but there wasn't much time left. Fifteen seconds, more or less. That's not enough time for Stauffen to get away. And somehow I don't get the feeling that he's the type of guy who would sacrifice his own life to make sure the bomb blows up in the right place.