Chapter 5: Clear the Waters

Varney had been amused that London was surprised that he knew the language.

Still, he'd now been permanently assigned to Stalag 13 as interpreter. Like Wilson was assigned as live-in physician. Speaking of, Hogan had Wilson give him a check-over before he and the others left for the town that night. And, of course, his scar was noticed and Wilson did ask about it.

'Childhood injury,' Varney said.

'Childhood injury?' Wilson looked at it and then took his stethoscope to have a listen to Varney's heart. 'Odd. Generally those kinds of wounds come from getting stabbed.'

Varney cringed. The scar was small but diagonal. And it was directly over his heart. There was a reason for that. Hopefully, if all went well, he wouldn't have to explain that to anyone. As it was, Wilson did what everyone did: he dismissed it. Because a doctor would know that if that wound had gone deeper than the surface, he would not have a patient sitting here to examine.

Ordinarily, he would be right.

But Varney was left on the phone tap while Hogan and his inner circle went out into the woods, under the cover of night. Varney had listened in on one more conversation between the Duchess and the Count, and he'd relayed that it was only her telling him that she'd pointed Hogan in the direction of the church.

Varney sat back with the phone tap but paid more attention to the movements of Hogan's Heroes. They circled around the town and approached it from the east. That was fair enough. The warehouse the Nazis were using as a base was on the west end of it. The castle was what was east of it. The Duchess had gone to visit the Count, and they had a very clear view.

HH

The two upper Nobles stood in a dark room, so no one would look up and realise they were looking at something. Their nocturnal eyes were the only thing that allowed them to see what was going on down there. They watched as two figures darted across to the side entrance of the church, while another two darted off to look at the warehouse.

'How close do you suppose they're going to get?' the Count asked.

The Duchess snorted. 'They're hardly amateurs. They'll see and they'll try to get close enough to hear what these guys are saying.'

'Do you think that guy would knowingly walk into a trap?' the Count asked. 'It seems too foolish.'

'Ordinarily, I'd say no,' the Duchess said. 'If he does, however, that means he is also a man in love. Men in love and fools are often the same thing.'

HH

Hogan paced around, agitated.

His men were gathered around, watching. Varney was sitting at one end of the table, examining the shackles that Kinch and LeBeau had brought back. They'd also found a whole plethora of manual weapons hidden in there. They'd gathered them. And Newkirk and Carter had found that the Duchess had been telling the truth.

She had no interest in Tiger.

These guys did.

And that made Hogan uneasy. Why were they interested in Tiger? What Carter and Newkirk had heard them saying was confusing and nonsensical. The idea that they could just be crazy gave him no comfort. Varney made a confused sound in his throat. Everyone looked over at him. He was examining the odd patterns in the metal of the shackles.

'Please tell me you worked out what it is,' Newkirk said.

'Silver,' he said. 'They've gone and melted actual silver into these. That's weird.'

'Why's that weird?' one of the men asked.

'Because silver is actually very soft and malleable,' Varney said. 'That's why it's usually combined with copper or iron. Sterling silver is a combination silver. Yet this sssseems like pure silver.'

Hogan walked over and took the shackle from him. He looked at the streaks. 'Can we test that?'

'Sure.' Carter dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. He took a silver coin out and pocketed the rest.

Varney smirked. 'Let me guess: great at chemistry, terrible at everything else.'

'That'd be Carter in a nutshell,' Newkirk remarked.

Hogan handed him the shackle. Carter put it down on the table. 'Now, if this is real silver, then it should make a sound like a ringing bell when I bounce this silver coin off of it.' He bounced the coin.

A bell-like sound came back.

The coin bounced back up. Carter fumbled with catching it. 'Real silver.'

'We still don't know why,' LeBeau said.

'Think the Duchess knows?' Newkirk asked.

'Maybe,' Hogan said. 'But I haven't been able to catch her.'

Kinch suddenly emerged from under the upraised bunk. The look on his face made Hogan's stomach drop. He walked towards him rather like a man walking to the electric chair. Without a word, he handed Hogan his clipboard.

No, Hogan didn't like that at all.

Taking the clipboard from Kinch, he read the message they'd just received. As he read it, he suddenly felt very cold. He felt so cold that he froze. He barely even noticed his men around him.

'Let me guess,' Newkirk said to Kinch. 'They do have Tiger?'

'And they're bringing her to town,' Kinch said. 'The Underground doesn't know why.'

'I know why,' Varney said.

'Really?' LeBeau asked. 'Why?'

'Obvious, isn't it?' Varney asked. 'Why bring a leader of the Underground all the way out here? Unless it was a trap for the fabled Papa Bear.'

And, unfortunately, he was right. Damned if I let her stay there. Hogan immediately started planning.

'Judging from the look on his face,' Newkirk said. 'I'd say we're going in for a rescue anyway.'

Hogan looked over. '"We"? All of us know it's a trap, Newkirk. I may be willing to take a back door in but there's no way I can ask any of you to walk in with me.'

'And there's no way we'll let you walk into a trap by yourself, Colonel,' Newkirk said.

'I second that!' LeBeau declared.

'It's crazy,' Kinch said, 'but you're gonna do it anyway, so count me in.'

'I'm in,' Carter said.

Hogan smiled at his men.

HH

Tiger rubbed her wrists, under the cuffs.

She looked over again. She was surrounded by Nazis out of uniform plus one reverend. The preacher was what was throwing her off. Why on earth would a Methodist reverend be accompanying them across from France to Germany? Well, the only way to know for sure would be to listen.

She had the advantage in that they apparently didn't expect her to understand German.

But she didn't like what she was hearing.

'We're sure he will come?' one of them asked.

'He will come for her,' the ranking officer said. 'He always does.'

And Tiger was tempted to kick at them the next time they came after her. She knew it was no good to do that. She was their prisoner. It would do her no good to lash out at them. It was a silly, illogical reaction. It would earn her no more than being struck. But she was filled with such hate for these men. She hated everything about them.

But there was no way she could warn Papa Bear not to come.

And be honest with yourself, Marie, she thought to herself, you know they're right. He's going to come after you one way or another.

God knew he'd never let anything deter him before.

Except this time, they were expecting it. This time he was not dealing with Gestapo agents who had no idea she had any connection to Papa Bear. She was not being held by men who wouldn't recognise Col. Robert E. Hogan. He was not going to be able to bluff his way in and manufacture a situation wherein she could be smuggled out. Because they were expecting him to go ahead and try.

And he would walk right into it.

Tiger jammed her eyes shut. Oh, mon amour…

AN: If you're wondering at the lack of alarm anyone has at the idea that these Nazis know where to find Papa Bear, it's because I'd imagine the Nazis know the general area where Papa Bear operates out of. They just don't know who he is.

Except Hochstetter. He strongly suspects (putting it mildly), but he just can't prove it.