Hi, my dear readers,

I'm sorry that the second chapter certainly confused you. Somehow I uploaded an Information that was meant for my other story (A second Chance) and only now learned of it because one of you was so kind to tell me about the confusing content.

So, please, before you continue to read this new chapter go back to the one before and read this first! This story will continue until its end, after all it's already completely written, and has only to be beata-read and published.

Now to this installment:

In the new chapter is about feelings and a little bit action , but also the typical bantering and bickering between the two colonels. Klink knows that Hochstetter will not let drop the accusations against Hogan and makes a decision that turns even our witty Hogan speechless – at least for a moment. In the meantime the Heroes and also Schultz and Langenscheidt start to realize that the shooting noises they heard could maybe mean an attack on the convoy, and begin to worry.

I hope you're going to like it.

Have fun

Love

Yours Starflight

Chapter 3 – It's going to be a long night

It seemed to last an eternity until Hogan finally announced that they were out of the danger-zone. Easing Klink carefully down on the snow-covered ground, he rubbed his lower back and tried to catch his breath.

The sounds of the gunfire were still heard, but they were far away enough to grant the two men something close to safety.

Klink groaned; not knowing if he should be sweating or feeling cold. It was somehow both. He grimaced as the pain in his calf and arm reached his mind with full force. His leg and arm seemed to be in flames and he knew what that meant.

Deadly serious he glanced up at Hogan; anxiety echoed in his voice. "You have to continue without me."

"I beg your pardon?" the colonel asked; disbelieving.

"I'm injured, Hogan. I can't walk anymore like this. You should…"

"No way, Colonel," the American interrupted him, knelt down beside him and fingered for the German's tie, which earned him a sharp slap on his hand.

"What are you doing?" Klink demanded.

"Trying to stop your leg from bleeding for which I need your tie. So, give it to me." Not waiting for Klink to react, Hogan simply freed the longer end of the tie-knot and pulled the cloth from the other man's neck; Klink's protests went unheard. Unknotting the tie, Hogan bent over the Oberst's calf, ripped the trouser-leg apart and used the tie as a makeshift bandage; cursing quietly as the loose end of the chain got in his way several times.

Klink clenched his teeth; swearing under his breath. It really hurt! Then Hogan was done, and the older man sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Hogan answered seriously.

From afar they heard new shouts and screams, followed by the sharp shots of pistols – obviously Hochstetter's group had a lot of trouble and tried to keep the aircrafts away by shooting at them with their hand-weapons. Klink looked furiously in the direction the noises came from. "If he survives this, I'll report that damn coward to Berlin. Leaving you to die is attempted murder, nothing more."

"I'm the enemy," Hogan reminded him.

"Nonsense! You are not an enemy – at least not for me. Besides, you're protected by the Geneva Convention until further notice. And if I have any say in this, this cursed wimp can meet his maker without trying to prove that you're an Underground-agent." He glanced back at Hogan. "You aren't one, are you?"

"You already asked Hochstetter how I could do everything he accuses me of, when I'm safe and sound in your camp. And, by the way, we already had this discussion a few weeks ago and you even apologized for thinking of me as a saboteur," Hogan answered; eyes fixed in the direction in which the unequal fight was happening. He didn't feel good for lying this openly to the man who just saved his life, but he had no other choice. Even if he was convinced that Klink was anything but a true Nazi, he had to be careful. He didn't belief that Klink would deliver him to the Gestapo, but knowing the Oberst's big mouth and nervous babbling, the chance that he would give Hogan away by pure accident was too big.

Sighing, Hogan rose and offered the other man his hand. "Come, we have to hurry."

"Haven't you listened, Hogan? I'm injured, and I can't…"

Rolling his eyes again, the colonel bent down and helped Klink on his feet; ignoring the Oberst's complaining and order to let him be. "We both make it out of here, or neither of us does!" Hogan hissed. "And if I have to carry you, I'll do it!" he all but threatened.

"I give you the order to leave me behind," Klink snarled. "Do you disobey me?"

And like switching on a lamp, Hogan's impish smirk was back in place. "You always can send me to the cooler for it, sir. But to do so, we both have to return to the camp."

"Stubborn mule!" Klink snapped; his feeling getting the better of him as he continued without a second thought, "Can't you see a chance when it pokes you in the face? This is your opportunity to flee – not only from here, but in general. Hochstetter is not going to let his accusations drop and will try to get you again as soon as he learns you're still alive. And if the Gestapo wants to prove someone being guilty, they just do it – true or not." He took a deep breath, as he realized what he had just said. What he suggested was real treason for once – high treason even – but his heart had overpowered his mind and usual anxiety.

He saw how Hogan's jaw hung open in shock, and added, "I will report that you were killed, accuse Hochstetter of murder in Berlin and you can go back to London. Knowing your talents, you will greet Saint Paul's Cathedral in a few days."

Hogan stared at him; not trusting his ears. "You want me to flee – breaking your flawless record?" he stammered; thunderstruck beyond imagination.

Klink rolled his eyes. "Hogan, please, give me some credit here! There were several escape attempts which were successful, and that I'm still holding the record of no escape is only because your men and even you decided to return. Whenever I let you out of the camp to fulfill some unusual tasks to my advantage, I had to live with the uncertainty of your return until you really showed up again. Sure, you gave me your word to do so, yet you also have the duty to flee – which you never did. I know you're a man of honor, but you also built up a kind of loyalty towards me, and only this still holds my record of no escapes."

Again, the planes raced above their heads through the air, accompanied by shots from automatic cannons, and both men ducked.

Klink straightened his frame as the air fighters were no longer above them and looked back at Hogan. "Go, Robert! I meant it when I said you shall save yourself." He knew that his decision would put him on court-martial if anyone learned of it, but deep down in his heart he knew he made the right choice

"Try to reach Nürnberg or München," he continued. "I'm sure you know a few guys who can help you back to England." He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as he realized that this last order would take the man he had fallen for out of his life. Fighting back the sudden pain deep inside him, he hobbled a few steps away and waved an impatient hand at Hogan. "Go and don't look back." He felt something in him about to break – to shatter. He would never see Hogan again, the man who had captured his so-well secured heart, but he would live. Whatever Hochstetter had found as a proof for Hogan to be far more than a 'simple POW', it surely would cost the American his life, and as much as it hurt his whole being, Klink rather would know Hogan far away and safe, then near and as good as dead.

Yes, his choice was high treason, but as long as he could stick true to the story that Hogan had died in the attack, there was no way to prove otherwise.

Klink was surprised about himself that he was making this step; that he was ready to take such a risk, but for too long he had played it safe. It had turned him into a coward. He knew this much. But here and now everything had changed. There always had been things which had made him outgrow himself, and to keep Robert Hogan safe belonged to these 'things'. Somewhere during the last three years the younger man had become this important to him that he, Klink, chose Hogan over his loyalty to his Fatherland. Well, the Fatherland he grew up and had loved didn't exist anymore – thanks to guys like Hochstetter or even the Fuehrer himself.

Hogan shook his head as if he wanted to wake up from a dream, then he frowned. "Three of Hochstetter's men saw us running away. If they have survived the last attacks, there is no chance that Hochstetter will buy your story."

Klink shrugged. "Then we're sticking closer to the truth. We made it into the woods, where your willingness to help me ended. You overpowered me, left me and fled – just like any captured officer should do given the opportunity."

Hogan stroke some dirty hair strains out of his forehead; still utterly flabbergasted. "You really want me to run away?" he asked and was even more shocked to see the deep sadness and even pain in his German counterpart's eyes.

"At least it would heighten your chance of survival. You're cleverer than any other man I ever met. You'll make it away from Germany and then you're safe."

Again, Hogan shook his head. Sweet Lord, what had happened to the gutless, bumbling man who was barely respected even by his own men? First, he stood up against Hochstetter, then he risked his life to save Hogan, now he prompted him to take flight and was sad about Hogan's eventually leaving? What, for God's sake, was going on here?

Again, the engines of the aircrafts became louder, but a moment later the fighters pelted off and headed towards south, following the other planes. As it seemed the pilots were satisfied with the damage they had done.

Klink turned his attention back to Hogan. "It's your only chance, and we both know it. So, take it!"

Hogan laughed out humorlessly. He couldn't flee, even if he wanted to – which he didn't. He couldn't abandon his mission and his men. He wasn't done in Germany. As long as the war raged his presence was essentially important to weaken the enemy, to help the Allies in his own way and to aid escapees and people who needed to get away from Germany. His men were good – geniuses in their own way – but he was the one who pulled the strings, who came up with the plans and coordinated everything. They would be lost without him, and if there was the tiniest chance that he could fool Hochstetter again and walk away as the 'simple' POW he pretended to be, then he had to take the risk.

And, by the way: Klink was indeed injured. Not fatally, mind you. The wounds were minor. A few stiches maybe, a couple of days rest, and the man would be as good as new. But the way to Stalag 13 was longer than Klink could possible keep up. Not only because of the pain, but mainly because of another factor: The cold.

Hogan had put on warm underclothes beneath his shirt as he joined his men to repair Klink's car, and therefore he could longer withstand the weather that would turn icier and icier within the next hours. The winter was harsh this year and the temperature was beneath zero for weeks now. Klink was only clad in his usual stiff white shirt and his uniform-jacket – both good enough to sit in the office, but not to run through the winter evening for hours. Yes, he could warm up by starting a fire, but given the fact that the Oberst's fingers were all thumbs, Hogan doubted that the man would be able to get a flame to linger longer than a few seconds. Klink certainly had never been a Boy-Scout, but Hogan had been.

To leave Klink behind would most certainly lead to the German's death – and Hogan didn't want Klink to die. Not only because Klink was the incompetent Kommandant Hogan needed to run his missions without being caught, but also because against all odds he liked him.

And, besides, Wilhelm Klink had just saved his neck. He owed the man, even if he had certainly rescued him in return seconds later as the aircrafts were upon them. It wasn't his style to set a life off against another life, and then be done with it.

"I can't go," he said quietly.

Klink's eyes began to flash. "God dammit, Hogan, we're speaking of your life here! Go!"

Hogan shook his head. Decision made, he took a step closer to the Kommandant. "No. You wouldn't make it alone back to the camp. If I'm not mistaken, we drove half the way to Hammelburg using the actual official detour, and it doesn't matter if you want to reach Stalag 13 or the town. You're wounded and clothed too thin for this damn winter. You…"

Klink waved the arguments away. "I'll try to find Hochstetter and then…"

"What, if he decides to use the opportunity to get rid of you this time? You know he despises you and…"

"Hochstetter despises everyone – even himself. But he'll be not foolish enough to harm an officer of the Luftwaffe."

"If he learns that you want to accuse him of attempted murder in Berlin, he certainly will try to stop you," Hogan urged. "Therefore, you only can tramp back to the camp – injured, square through the woods because to take the road is not safe enough. You wouldn't get far, so…"

"I know that you and most other people regard me as a weakling, but I'm stronger than you think," Klink interrupted him; sounding arrogant. He turned around. "I can…" He gasped as a sharp pain shot up his leg, and the next moment he landed hard on the icy forest ground and his injured arm which elicited a yelp from him.

Looking shortly towards the skies – 'Why me?' – Hogan was beside him with three long steps and crouched down. "See what I mean?" he asked softly. "You will die out here."

"What do you care?" Klink murmured miserably; knowing that Hogan was far too clever and intelligent not to take the chance to make an escape and save his own life and that his hesitation in the moment was a result of his honor. The American officer would leave, of course, and he, Klink, would remain behind. And regrettably Hogan was right about another detail: Even if Klink boasted how strong he was, he knew that in truth he was not.

"I do care, you fool," Hogan whispered; making his German counterpart look up at him with widening eyes. "God help me, but I do care about you. I came back for you, just like you did for me. And I think we both did it out of the same reason. They demand us to be enemies, but the truth is: We are not!" Without giving Klink an opportunity to protest, he hauled him up for the third time, bent down again, gripped the older man's waist with strong hands and threw him over his shoulder; rising in one swift movement and started to walk.

"Hogan, put me down!" Kink gasped, shocked. Hogan was throwing away his maybe only chance to escape Hochstetter once and for all.

"No," the colonel unsubordinated.

"Dammit, I'm still your commanding offer, so put. Me. Down!" For good measurement he even tried to kick around but quit struggling as the American's grip tightened.

"I hear nnnooottthhhinnng," Hogan parodied Schultz; beginning to smirk as the Oberst sputtered enraged. "And, by the way, how do you want report Hochstetter to Berlin when you can't even make it back to your office?"

"Damn, thick-headed, nerve-killing, arrogant, reckless Ami! Always has to have the last word!" Klink grouched.

"How shall I know that you don't want to say anything more?" Hogan sounded very innocent and chuckled as a barrage of German curses was the result. God, he loved this bantering with Klink – and it had a beautiful side-effect in this case: Some of the horror in his body and mind was leaving him. With every step he made he felt more like his old, perky self again.

Walking as quickly as possible he headed into the direction where he knew Stalag 13 was settled; deeply amused by Klink's continued nagging.

*** HH ***

"Roger, Goldilocks, Papa Bear over and out!" James Kinchloe removed the headset and closed the connection to London. LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk looked at him expectantly. They all had quit working on Klink's car the moment the convoy had left the camp and returned to their barrack. The uproar among the POWs because of Hogan's arrest and being manhandled by Hochstetter, had costed Kinch valuable minutes to calm them down. He was the highest-ranking officer for now, and as such it was up to him to keep the others in check.

It was fortunate that Schultz was acting Kommandant in the moment, and no-one else, because the Bavarian showed a lot of understanding for the outraged worry the POWs displayed for 'their' colonel.

Finally, Kinchloe had been able to return to Barrack 2 and had instantly contacted London to report the bad news to them. And, of course, the others of 'the team' had joined him.

Sighing, James glanced at them; the mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes already told them a lot even before he murmured, "London says we should be ready to evacuate ourselves. If Colonel Hogan isn't back tomorrow by eight o'clock AM together with Klink, we're ordered to contact London one last time, then destroy the equipment and flee. They'll send a submarine and…"

"What about the colonel?" Newkirk demanded.

"Oui, what's about mon colonel?" Louis snapped. "We can't leave 'im be'ind. 'e wouldn't let down anyone of us, nes pas?!" The worry and the irritation made LeBeau talk in an even heavier accent than usual.

"They say, when the Gestapo really has proof that Hogan belongs to the Underground, the chances to get him out are practically zero." He hated the whole situation with all his heart. Hogan was his closest friend – the first officer ever who didn't care about his dark skin. He and Hogan knew each other for many years now, and the prospect of leaving Robert behind was unbearable. He wouldn't do it – come what may.

"One moment!" Newkirk raged. "How many agents have we rescued within the last years? How often has the colonel risked his neck to save others? I've lost count. He always managed to do what London wants and more, saving hundreds of people. And now we let him down? No way!"

"We can't just dress up as someone of Berlin's brass and show up at Hochstetter's door step," Carter said unhappily. "He knows everyone of us too well and is certainly very suspicious – especially now, when he finally got the colonel in his fingers."

Newkirk's eyes narrowed. "You're right, but I think I have an idea. We should try to contact Hans Wagner. He owes the colonel big. Maybe his boys can fool Hochstetter in…"

"Guys?" One of their fellow prisoners of Barrack 2 peeked down into the underground cavern they had dug almost three years ago and that held the radio station now.

The four men turned around. "Yes?" Kinch asked.

"You should come upstairs. There are artillery shots heard from afar and a few US aircrafts just flew by. Gordon Evans means they are attacking something near Hammelburg."

LeBeau gave the radio station a very nasty glare. "They should inform us about things like this, instead of giving up on Colonel 'Ogan!"

Kinchloe headed to the ladder that was in truth the slatted frame of one the stock-beds above. "Let us have a look on it. Maybe the attack will keep Hochstetter busy enough to distract him from the colonel until we come up with a plan to get him out of the deep water he is in."

*** HH ***

Yes, Hochstetter had been distracted – more than Hogan's men could assume. And after the hostile aircrafts finally left, he first looked after his subordinates, of which a few were injured, others were missing. Surprisingly he couldn't find Klink. The Luftwaffe officer had been only ten meters or so behind him as they ran for the woods to find some cover, but now the clumsy man was nowhere to be seen.

"Does someone know what happened to Klink?" he asked.

One of his men, who pressed one hand over the shot on his left arm, grumbled, "He returned to the prisoner. I saw him racing back – shortly before the rest of the convoy was blown up."

Hochstetter stared at him. "Klink… went back for Hogan? In the middle of artillery fire?" He looked into the direction where the light of the flames flickered in the dark dusk. "What have they put into his coffee this morning? First, he defies me and now he even runs into showers of shots? He's more stupid than I ever thought possible."

"Or has more courage than given credit for," another one of his men commented, but was ignored by his superior officer.

So, Klink had wanted to play the hero for once by trying to free Hogan. Why the American was that important for the fool was beyond Hochstetter, but it didn't matter anymore. He had heard the noises of the aircraft artillery, seconds before several detonations roared through the air. If Klink had been anywhere near the cars as they exploded, he certainly was dead – just like Hogan.

Yet Hochstetter knew he couldn't just walk away.

"Stay here," the major ordered. "Unfortunately, it's my damn duty to check on this idiot and to see if he has made it. Otherwise I'll have General Burkhalter at my throat – even if he's going to be glad to be rid of Klink in the end."

Carefully, ready to take cover again, he returned to the clearing and looked silently into the still raging flames which fed off the convoy's remains. He saw three bodies of his men lying motionless not far away from the fire – killed by the blasts as it seemed. The area around the burning convoy was in flames – a result of the splashed petrol after the explosions. As much as Hochstetter tried to make out some more details, he couldn't see anything – or anybody.

Even if Klink somehow had been able to free Hogan, the explosions had been too quick afterwards. There was no chance that the two men had escaped the detonations or the hostile aircrafts' gunmen.

Hogan and Klink were dead, their bodies burning along with the convoy, and if there was one good outcome of the air fighters' attack in Hochstetter's opinion, then it was that his personal nemesis and this parody of a German officer had found their demise.

'When I'm back at my office I'll give a toast to the fates that I'm finally rid of this damn Ami and this stupid idiot. And then it will be my pleasure to call Stalag 13 and to let this big oaf of Schultz and Hogan's men knew that their commanding officers are no more.'

Giving the convoy a mocking salute, he turned away and headed back to where his men waited for him. It would be a long walk to Hammelburg, but Hochstetter's mood was too high-spirited now to be doused by the prospect of a little trekking tour.

*** HH ***

Hogan had carried Klink approximately one kilometer, until he decided that enough was enough. Yes, Klink's injury certainly hurt but the man would be able to walk on his own legs for a while. The Oberst's was slender, but tall, and therefore weighed a lot. And Hogan groaned in relief as he finally found a good place – full of frozen grass – to kneel down and give Klink the chance to regain his feet.

The Kommandant had been surprisingly silent after he had finally realized that Hogan wouldn't obey his command to leave him behind, and even now he didn't say anything as he carefully put his weight on his feet and grimaced at the pain that became instantly stronger again. Hogan helped him to regain his balance by steading him at the waist, and despite the fact that Kink was highly irritated by Hogan's insubordination, a part of him was overjoyed that the colonel hadn't taken the given chance to flee but had stayed to help him. And as he looked down at the younger man, who happened to just kneel in front of him while steadying him, he couldn't help but had to comment,

"It's a nice try to make up for your disobedience, Hogan, but to kneel in front of me is really not necessary."

Hogan took the words for what they were: A joke. Grinning he rose and looked at Klink with mirth in his eyes; invading the Oberst's personal space like he did so often. "I'm not off the hook in your books then?" he asked innocently, and Klink rolled his eyes; ignoring how his heartbeat increased.

"The 'hook' has the size of a skyscraper after all you did within the last two years and eleven months since you came to my camp, Hogan, but I do appreciate your unwillingness to leave me behind." His voice was soft. "Yet you are a big fool to do so. Hochstetter will be after you again soon enough."

The colonel shrugged. "Let him. Until now he never had any proof of his accusations, and I do think his newest ones will be turn into smoke, too."

"Your words in God's ears," Klink mumbled.

Hogan smirked and was about to give another comment, as he saw a shiver shaking the other man. "We should hurry, before you relapse with a cold," he said quietly.

Klink shrugged. "Never mind. I took worse in the past."

Hogan shook his head. "No, no! When you get a cold you're grumpy – grumpier than usual – and…"

"I'm NOT grumpy," Klink defended himself. As the American only grinned wider, he made his typical waving gesture with his balled fist when he was frustrated. "I am not!" he huffed, what earned him a chuckle.

"Grumpy!" Hogan teased back.

"No, I'm…" A new shiver made the Oberst tremble, and the colonel turned instantly serious again.

"We should get you to somewhere warm," he said, before he cocked his head. "Or I'll have to warm you up properly."

What followed then took Hogan by surprise. Klink blushed a fierce red that was even visible in the dim moonlight, while he sputtered something in German the colonel was unable to understand. Then it hit Hogan that his counterpart had taken the suggestion in a more intimate way and began to smirk again. Just have a look, gold old Klink had a dirty mind. Who had ever thought that?

Never leaving out a chance of teasing – taunting – Klink, Hogan wrapped an arm around the older man, careful not to touch the injury, and pulled him close. "Come on, Colonel, to share body-heat is an old survival trick."

Hogan couldn't know what his words did to Klink – how much it affected the German. He was unaware of the rising pulse, the heat in Klink's veins, the up-flaring of longing and the embarrassment because of it. Simply taking the other man's reaction as the typical nervousness that was hidden behind Klink's usual pompously behavior, he pulled the Oberst with him – heading into the same direction they had already taken before.

"We've to find a nice, cozy place and then I can show you what I mean," he added; amusement plain to hear in his voice. And then he had to laugh quietly, as he heard the expected,

"Hooogaaan!"

*** HH ***

"No, Major Hochstetter and Oberst Klink left the camp more than two hours ago," Schultz answered and listened to the voice in the other end of the line. He looked up at Sergeant Karl Langenscheidt, who stood in front of Klink's desk and was worried like Schultz. "I'm sorry, I can't give you any other information. I don't know why they haven't arrived until now, but please call me as soon as they show up. Auf Wiedersehen (good bye)."

With those words he hung up and rubbed his neck. "The convoy hasn't returned to the Gestapo-Headquarters by now. They are concerned that the aircraft attack we heard earlier could be aimed at Hochstetter and the others."

"Don't get me wrong, Hans, but I do not care for Hochstetter," Langenscheidt murmured. "If the Allies got him, I certainly won't share a tear for him."

"Rrrright, but I do worry about Klink – and Colonel Hogan. If the Allies destroyed the cars, it could be that the two were killed." He rose from the desk chair and stepped towards the sideboard where Klink had placed the carafe with the cognac. Without feeling guilty, he filled two glasses and offered one to Karl, who accepted the offer gratefully.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

Schultz shrugged. "I have Klink's orders. No action before tomorrow morning eight o'clock. Maybe the Kommandant and the others will show up within the next hours in Hammelburg. If not…" He took a deep breath. "If not, then we have an exceptional situation that demands action."

"What actions?" Langenscheidt asked after emptying his own glass.

The big sergeant sighed. "Then we'll send a patrol that looks for them. If the convoy was really attacked by the aircrafts, then there will be enough tracks we would have to accept as proof."

Newkirk looked up from the telephone exchange station beneath Barrack 2 that made it not only possible to piggyback into every call that was made from or to the POW camp, but also gave the men the perfect chance to eavesdrop every word that was spoken on the line.

Greedy for every news which maybe would give to Schultz concerning Klink's and Hogan's unwilling stay at the Gestapo-Headquarters in Hammelburg, Kinchloe had ordered Peter to listen closely to every contact.

But what Newkirk heard worried Hogan's team more than it calmed them.

"Vanished?" Kinch didn't believe his ears. "They didn't arrive in Hammelburg?"

"What is taking them so long?" LeBeau asked puzzled.

"The colonel gives Hochstetter trouble – certainly!" Carter beamed.

"And how, you genius? The gov'nor was chained to the bloody car-door and Hochstetter had his pistol aimed at him as they left. The colonel may be one of the most clever, scheming and smartest men I ever met, but he is no magician. And if he has talked himself out of the deep water, then he and Klink would have been already returned."

"I'll contact London and ask them if there was a planned bomber-attack in this area. We heard the artillery almost two hours ago, and I have this bad feeling that the colonel's and the others' disappearance has something to do with it," Kinch murmured and headed to the radio station that was placed directly under the hidden entrance to the tunnels.

"What if those aircrafts attacked the convoy?" Carter asked the question everyone was thinking of but didn't dare to voice.

"Then we can only pray that mon colonel was able to safe 'imself," Louis said grimly.

TBC…

I loved the idea that Klink orders Hogan to flee so that he is safe. Klink doesn't care for his flawless record for once if it means that Hogan will escape Hochstetter and maybe a firing squad. I imagined Hogan's reaction to such a suggestion coming from the man who always boast about the 'no escape-rate' of his camp, and it was really fun to write the scene. Hopefully you enjoyed it, too.

Well, the Heroes – and Schultz – have the right idea about the attack, but there is no way for them to help their superior officers for now. And regarding our two colonels: They are still in danger.

In the next chapter they are not threatened from Hochstetter or hostile aircrafts, but from the icy weather and a long way through the woods. Klink wears only his uniform jacket without any coat and Hogan's leather jacket isn't a big protection against snow and coldness, too. In other words: The whole situation worsens for the two men, while Schultz takes some action and the Heroes learn the truth about the ambush.

I hope you liked the new installment and I would be very happy to get some reviews / comments.

Have a nice Sunday,

Love

Your Starflight