Hi, my dear readers,

The stats show me that the story begins to attract attention and that it has found some people, who like it. I'm very happy about it.

Off to the next chapter: As you can imagine, the trip through the woods will be for Hogan and Klink no walk in the park. Far from it, because when the night falls and it begins to snow, both men are in real danger. The Heroes learn of the ambush and Schultz is getting very worried. But there will be also some funny and sweet scenes.

Have fun,

Love

Yours Starflight

Chapter 4 – Finding shelter

The dark evening was blending into the night. Hogan and Klink were still walking through the woods, only interrupted by two breaks they had to make because of the Oberst's injuries. But the wounds the grazed bullets had left weren't the only reason why Klink felt miserable, to put it mildly. The temperature had dropped even more, and his jacket was anything but warm enough. Far from it. Additionally, not wearing his cap left his balding head exposed to the iciness and he had a big headache by now. He had never been so cold in his whole life, and within the last hour he had wrapped his arms around himself and only concentrated on two things:

One, to grit his teeth strong enough to prevent them from chattering.

And two, not to lose Hogan from his sight.

Three times he had fallen back without even realizing it, and every time the colonel had waited for him until he caught up. Of course, the damn rascal had to tease him about it, which stoked Klink's pride and will, yet it became more and more difficult to keep up pace with the somehow very well trained American. A POW shouldn't be so fit, despite the sports the prisoners were allowed to do. Then, on the other hand, he knew firsthand that Hogan was a lot stronger than he was; having certainly trained his body his whole life along, while he – Klink – hated to do sports.

And now this lack of active training came back to him.

If they only could use a real path – or a road for that matter – it would have been so much easier. But Hogan had made it very clear to him that this would add another danger to their situation.

The colonel didn't need to persuade Klink very much to convince him of the danger that lurked outside of the camp at nightfall – last but not least because of the allies which usually were on Hogan's side. The war was reaching its peak and certainly its end in a few months, and the people who had put up resistance against the Hitler-regime fought even stronger since the Allies had landed in the Normandie seven months ago. And they had become more restless and often brutal.

Even Hogan often had problems now to reason with them when it came to his missions, because where he tried to keep the number of victims as low as possible and spared members of hostile soldiers and even the Gestapo and SS as much as he could, the resistance within Germany had no such scruple. They all – their families, friends and themselves – had suffered a lot under the cruel regime, and revenge was often the motivation behind their actions. Matters were complicated further after a big part of the Underground-cell in Hammelburg had almost been revealed to the Gestapo and the agents blamed Hogan for it, because his many missions and activities had brought Hochstetter to the right track concerning the Underground. Of course, he had helped them to flee and to leave Germany by smuggling them out through the tunnels, yet the Underground in Hammelburg was weakened – and didn't really listened to him like they had earlier.

Hell, within the last months there had been a few occasions in which Hogan had been forced to protect Klink, Schultz and one time even Burkhalter to prevent them from being killed by the people he worked together with, even if the three German officers never took notice of it. They would never learn about the things their senior POW officer did to keep them alive, and how much Hogan had to play tricks to keep the Underground, London and the German officers in line.

And so, given the whole tense situation, caution was priority now.

He knew, if had and Klink met with a group of Underground-activists by pure accident during their trip back to the camp, the Oberst would be in great danger. Yes, Hogan had the pistol, but he really didn't want to fight those men and women who supported his missions. He would be caught in the middle and this had to be avoided at all costs. Even he could run out of arguments and tricks, and he so didn't want to face such a situation.

So, he thought it a good idea to lead Klink square through the woods – very much to the older man's dismay. To trudge through the undergrowth wouldn't have been easy at day and wearing proper clothes. Now, at night, with a temperature far beneath the freezing point and as only illumination was the moon, the trip was awful.

Klink had never felt so wretched before in his whole life. Every step was hell and he didn't know what was worse: The pain in his calf and arm or this unholy iciness. The only pleasant part of this nightmare-trip was Hogan's presence.

Klink was still baffled that the younger man had refused to flee. Hogan was gambling with his life, this much was certain, yet the colonel stubbornly declined to get himself to safety and remained with Klink. The Oberst didn't know if this was the bravest or the most foolish thing Hogan ever did.

His thoughts were interrupted as the gusts of wind rustled stronger through the leafless branches than before and temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. Klink fought against the tremors which already shook him over and over again, and as the next gusts became heavier, he shivered violently.

"Colonel Klink?'

In the dim moonlight Klink met Hogan's concerned gaze, and even if the younger man's obvious worry warmed him, it was not enough to chase the chills out of his bones. "I-I-I'm a-a-a-ll r-r-r-right," he mumbled; gritting his teeth as a new wave of stinging and burning pain made itself recognizable from his calf and upper arm.

"No, you are not," Hogan answered quietly, closed the small distance to him and watched him carefully. He took in the pale skin, the blue lips, the sick color of his half-bald and the shaking form of the Kommandant, and alarmed he realized that Klink was not far away from falling prey to exposure.

Not giving a damn about the fact that it was war, they were on different sides and that it really could be interpreted the wrong way, he closed the distance, rubbed Klink's arms a few times with strong movements; careful not to come near the wound. Finally, he wrapped one arm around his shoulder. He met the older man's baffled gaze and gave him a lopsided smile.

Inwardly Klink relished in the physical contact, but of course he had to keep his disguise and so he said indignantly,

"I'm not Fraeulein Hilda, Hogan, nor I'm a damsel in distress."

The colonel chuckled quietly. "Well, not a damsel, but obviously in distress." He pulled off his crush cap and placed it on Klink's head. "I should have done this an hour ago, then you would feel better," he said quietly. "Sorry for not thinking so far."

"You know that I'm i-i-i-n trouble when s-s-s-someone else sees m-m-m-me wearing uniform parts of the e-e-e-enemy?"

"It's a necessity of pure survival, sir. I would make an oath on it."

Klink only huffed but quit his protests; even mumbling a quiet "Thank you". The rubbing didn't make much difference to the icy freeze he felt until now and it was not much warmth that reached the left side of his body where Hogan was in close proximity and, but the latter made his heart soar what helped him a little bit. And to have something covering his balding head was a salvation.

Together they searched their way through the woods – one limping, the other one supporting. Then the first clouds began to shadow the moon and Hogan looked up. "This is not good," he murmured.

"Very observant," Klink griped. "I'm shot, lost in some God damn woods and slowly turning into an icicle. And there says this man that the situation 'isn't good'."

Grimacing, Hogan corrected, "I don't speak of you or us in this matter, but of the weather. I think I smell snow in the air."

"Snow will worsen our situation, so you do speak of us," Klink announced triumphantly, which made the American groan. The Oberst only smirked at him for a moment, then the next blow of wind hit them, and this time both men began to tremble.

'Dammit!' Hogan thought. 'Every time I think it doesn't can get worse, it gets worse!'

"It's past ten o'clock p.m. and no news from Hammelburg!" Schultz murmured; looking at the clock. "Dammit, here is something very wrong."

He left Klink's office and began to search for Langenscheidt, who did patrols at the other end of the camp. Schultz was very tired by now, but his worry kept him up. Crossing the yard and cursing the snow that blew in gusts down from the skies, he finally spotted the other man and walked towards him.

Usually both would be off duty at this hour, but in mute understanding they had agreed to stay awake and remain in attendance should their fear come true.

"Karl," he said quietly as he reached the corporal. "Nothing from Hammelburg. Take Hoffmann and Maier and check the roads to Hammelburg. If the streets are clean than I don't know why they've vanished. If those aircrafts really attacked them, then… we'll find the proof."

Langenscheidt nodded. "To say the truth, I have a bad feeling."

"Me too," Schultz nodded. "I fear that they are indeed dead." He took a deep, sad breath. "I only don't know what to tell Hogan's boys if our American prankster should be no more." He shook his head. "I like Hogan – a lot. He is a fine man. It would be such a shame if he would be another victim of this damn war." He glanced at Langenscheidt again. "And even if you call me crazy, but I would mourn Klink, too. In his own way he is a good man."

"Yes, he is," Karl agreed. "I'll take one of the trucks and inform you as soon as possible."

"Thanks," Schultz murmured and watched the other man heading towards one of the guardhouses. Then he returned to Klink's office; knowing that he wouldn't find any sleep until he knew about the fate of his superior officer and the cheerful American he had come to like so much despite the fact that Hogan had landed him in deep water many times and was making him crazy with all the 'monkey-businesses' and hidden activities Schultz knew of exactly, but ignored.

"They did WHAT?" LeBeau almost screamed in outrage.

Kinchloe flinched while he placed the headset down beside the radio-device. He was grey beneath his brown skin. "One of the pilots affirmed that they found a military convoy driving towards Hammelburg while they were on their flight towards Nürnberg – aiming for some companies there which produce ballistics and spare parts for military trucks. They thought it was maybe a traveling staff-officer and wanted to eliminate him. So, the pilot and three further aircrafts parted from the main-squadron and attacked. The pilot told London that all vehicles were destroyed and that the most hostile soldiers were killed."

"Blimey!" Newkirk whispered. "What's about the gov'nor?"

"The pilot said it was too dark to make out details like different uniforms. One of the other pilots recognized black SS-clothes and so they shot at everything that moved," Kinch answered quietly. "A few escaped, but the pilot couldn't say how much and who."

"So what?" Louis snarled. "We just sit here and wait if mon colonel shows up again or not?"

"What can we do in the moment?" Kinch murmured; feeling miserable. "We can't leave the camp and begin a search on our own. There is too much unrest in the camp tonight – last but not least because Schultz is too disturbed by Klink and Hogan vanishing. There are more guards out on patrol than usual and…"

"Guys?" Olsen peeked down from the slatted frame that served as ladder.

"Yes?" Kinch called upwards.

"Schultz searched out Langenscheidt a minute ago and latter just drove with two guards in a truck away. I think, our strudel-king finally had enough and sent a searching party."

Carter looked unhappily at LeBeau and Newkirk. "Then we can't do anything except wait."

"Oui," the little Frenchman murmured. "Waiting and praying." He glared at the radio. "And if those idiots really have killed mon colonel I personally travel to Old England and kick those pilots in the asses – hard, until they can't sit anymore!"

They wouldn't make it. If they didn't find shelter soon, the cold would get the better of them. Like Hogan had already anticipated, it had begun to snow – heavily. Within half an hour even the grounds of the woods were white, and the wind had strengthened to a level it could be called a storm.

Klink was barely able to remain on his feet, and usually the colonel wouldn't have hesitated to carry the older man, but the risk that the Oberst would fall unconscious and would slip into eternal sleep was too high. To force him to move was the only thing that guaranteed conscious – to a certain point. Hogan was not one who gave into pessimism, but their chance of survival had dramatically dropped. Maybe the risk to use the road had been the smaller one after all, but it was too late to wager 'ifs' or 'whens'.

Klink stumbled beside him – for the fourth time within a few minutes – and Hogan caught the Oberst again.

Not caring for any formalities by now, he shook the other man. "Wilhelm, stay focused! We can't be far away anymore and…" He gulped as he met the dazed gaze beneath the half-closed lids. Klink was barely conscious while he swayed dangerously. Opening his leather-jacket, Hogan pulled him close and wrapped both arms around him – trying to share some body-heat despite the fact that he was freezing, too, by now. "Hold on, Willie," he whispered and felt an unexpected wave of despair, as the older man sank against him and buried his face at his throat. "Don't give up," the colonel murmured; tightening the embrace. "We have to be almost there. Stay with me, Willie!"

He looked around. He was absolutely certain that they had covered the distance between the place where the attack happened and Stalag 13, but there was nothing that gave a hint of the camp. And with dread Hogan realized that – maybe – he had lost the way.

It was often heard that people got lost in darkness, snowstorms or fog, because humans had the tendency to move in circle when no fixed point was there to follow. And obviously exactly that had happened now. Hogan frowned. He knew how to find his way in the woods, using hints like moss-growth on tree trunks to localize the cardinal direction, but given the fact that the only illumination was the snow by now, he could have made mistakes.

Mortal mistakes, how he was well aware of. He maybe would hang on for an hour more, but Klink hadn't that time anymore.

All right, time to take some other actions. The next bush that was big enough to offer them some shelter had to do it. Then he would collect some wood and would try to start a fire – a difficult thing given the fact that everything was wet. Yet he had to try it.

With a "Come on, Willie, you're stronger than that'," he pulled the Oberst with him; covering him with his open jacket as good as he could.

They only made four more steps, then Hogan stopped abruptly. There was a small street and dragging Klink with him, he stepped out on it. He looked to the left, then to the right, hoping to see something and…

There, not far away to the right he made out the silhouette of a house, barely recognizable in the scurry of snow.

Inhabited or not, the building was their rescue. Grinning like mad he cheered, "Willie, we made it!"

The words seemed to stir some spirits in Klink, who lifted his head. "S-S-S-Stalag?" he whispered hopefully.

"No, but a house. Shelter, Willie!" Hogan began to walk with new strengths towards the house; pulling the older man with him. "Come on, I'll get us inside, start a fire and you'll warm up in no time. And tomorrow we find a way back home. You'll see."

Hogan's joyful speech was only barely registered by Klink, but the words 'shelter', 'fire' and 'warm up' did magical things to his exhausted mind. Somehow, he managed to drag his feet over the snow-covered ground, even if it was only because of the colonel's grip around him that prevented him from losing his balance.

Suddenly a dog began to bark and Hogan realized that the house was inhabited. By now he didn't care whom they were going to meet. The biggest priority was now to get out of the cold and to take care of Klink.

The dog was barking furiously now and a moment later the front door was thrown open and a man appeared in the dim light of a lightened candle; aiming a riffle at them.

"Wer ist da? (Who is there)?" he demanded. "Stop, oder ich schieße (Stop or I'll shoot)."

Even if Hogan understood the man's wariness in those dark times, he had no time to spare. Klink was about to lose conscious, and tightening his hold on the older man, he raised his voice, "Hilfe! Bitte helfen Sie uns (Help. Please help us)!" His voice sounded in his own ears strange – more like a croak than anything else.

The man called something into the house and the next moment another man appeared beside him and lifted something that looked like a petroleum lamp.

On shaking legs Hogan dragged Klink with him towards the house, then he heard a shout of surprise.

"Sweet Lord, that's Hogan!"

The colonel groaned inwardly. No, please not someone known from the Underground. How should he…

"And Oberst Klink. Don't shoot, Andreas. I know those two."

The voice sounded slightly familiar and then he saw someone rushing towards him and Klink. Strong hands caught him by the shoulders and he as he looked up he saw a well-known aging face.

"Schnitzer," Hogan whispered as he recognized the veterinarian who was responsible for the guard dogs in Stalag 13 and belonged to the Underground; supporting Hogan and his men whenever his help was needed. The man, who was in his sixties, wore a thick jacket and a cap, his eyes shone with worry as he watched first the colonel, then the Oberst.

"Andreas, come on, help me getting them into the house," Schnitzer called, then went to Klink's other side to support him.

"Careful with his arm. He's injured" Hogan murmured, then another pair of strong hands gripped him. He didn't protest. He really was glad to receive some help.

"What happened, Colonel Hogan?" Schnitzer asked alerted. "You two look like hell."

"Later, Oscar," the other man said. "Let us get them into the house and warmed up. Then we can ask them how it comes that a German Luftwaffe officer and an obvious American POW show up at my doorstep to this unholy hour in the middle of a snowstorm."

"Thank you, sir," Hogan croaked and looked at the man at his side, who was in his fifties. "Colonel Robert Hogan, US Air Force," he introduced himself as politeness kicked in.

"Andreas Obermayer, farmer," the introduction was returned.

The last meters to the house seemed to last forever. Schnitzer gave the still barking dog a sharp command and the animal that was in one of the stables went quiet. As they reached the door, a woman appeared – wearing thick clothes and carrying another petroleum lamp.

"Anneliese, go lit the oven upstairs in Frank's room," Obermayer said to her. "Fetch some blankets and the medical kit. The Oberst is injured and I think the American can need some care, too."

In the same moment, as the relative warmth of the house closed around them, Klink's knees gave in and it was only Hogan's reflexes and Schnitzer's streak to be always prepared for everything that prevented the Oberst of making hard contact with the floor.

"Kommandant!" Hogan gasped and swore under his breath while he held the older man in a firm embrace; the crush cap landed on the ground.

"Take his legs, I take his shoulders," Schnitzer grunted towards Obermayer, before he addressed Hogan. "Can you make it upstairs alone?"

"Yeah," was all the colonel murmured and picked up his cap before he followed the two Germans who carried Klink between them. Two children, maybe four and six, peeked out from a door – eyes wide and scared. Despite feeling like he could fall asleep on his feet, Hogan smiled at them, which made the girl, the younger one of the two, squeak and dive for cover behind the older one.

"Don't be afraid, I will never harm you, sweeties," he said softly in German.

Andreas looked at them and murmured, "My grandchildren. They were evacuated from München. Don't fear him, Marie, Peter. The colonel will cause no trouble." He glanced firmly at the American, who nodded.

"You have my word of honor, sir. I'll give you and your family no trouble. I'm far too grateful for your willingness to help Colonel Klink and me."

"You can trust Hogan, Andreas. Despite his nationality he is a fine man," Schnitzer grumbled. That he kept his cover as a loyal man of the regime showed Hogan that Obermayer wasn't part of the Underground, otherwise Schnitzer would have spoken in different way. Oscar glared down at the barely conscious Klink. "The same goes for this guy here. His bedside manners leave room for wishes sometimes, but he's not bad."

They managed to carry Klink upstairs to a chamber that hadn't been used for a while. The curtains were drawn close as usual in the whole of Germany since the ordered brownout during the war. Covers were placed over the furniture and it was cold inside. Frau (Mrs.) Obermayer knelt in front of the oven and was lightening it. "Take the Oberst over here, Andreas," she said and pointed to the covered bed. "Peter?" she called and as the boy appeared shyly at the door, she said, "Go to our chamber and fetch two blankets. Hurry!"

Hogan knelt stiffly beside her and gripped for the chopped wood. "I'll take it from here on, Ma'am. If it isn't too much to ask, the Kommandant and I would be very grateful to get something hot to drink."

"We have not much to offer," the woman answered carefully, "but I can make some sage-tea. We have saved dry sage for the winter and it helps with approaching colds and flues."

Hogan smiled. "I know. Where I come from, sage is one of the most used healing herbs. A tea made of it would be wonderful. Thank you."

Anneliese Obermayer pursed her lips and watched the enemy officer for a moment. He looked utterly exhausted, was dirty and wet with the melting snow on his bomber jacket and black hair, but there was something in the way he spoke and looked that made her want to trust him.

She rose and exchanged an asking glance with Schnitzer, who simply nodded slowly. Oscar was their friend for more than twenty years now and she always had appreciated his deep insight of animals and humans. If he, who knew most of the prisoners of the near POW-camp, trusted the American then she had no reason to be wary.

Schnitzer and Obermayer had put Klink on the bed by now, who only groaned some unintelligent words, as Andreas began to remove his jacket. "Anneliese, get the medical kit first. This doesn't look good!" he called over his shoulder.

"I'll treat the Oberst. Right, usually I treat dogs and cats, but there isn't such a big difference to humans – at least in this matter," Schnitzer grumbled.

Hogan had finally started the fire and the first warmth began to spread through the room. It made him shake with overreaction, and with trembling fingers he removed his own jacket and kicked of his wet shoes. Laying Klink's pistol on the table, he began to strip. It was better to get rid of the wet clothes than continue to wear them.

Obermayer got the idea to what the American was up, went to a heap of furniture which were covered with blankets, took a sheet of cotton and offered it to Hogan. "Here, you can use it to be spared moving in Adam's costume. Place your clothes near the oven. I'm sure they'll be dry by the morning.

"Th-th-th-thanks," Hogan murmured; his teeth chattered by now.

Obermayer frowned as he saw the handcuff and the short chain that dangled from it. "You were transferred?"

"N-n-n-no. We were on the way to Hammelburg as the c-c-c-convoy was attacked b-b-b-by American air forces. The K-K-K-Kommandant and I escaped a-a-and tried to r-r-r-reach our camp b-b-b-but got lost."

Stripping off except for his underpants, he quickly pulled the bleached cover around himself. He shivered violently as the warmth increased and he relished in it for a few seconds, before he closed the distance to the bed, where Schnitzer had managed to unclothe Klink for the most part.

The Oberst had come around again but was more asleep than awake. Yet he wasn't too far gone to realize what was going on and tried to stop the other man, but Hogan reached out and caught Klink's wrist in a gentle yet firm grip.

"W-W-W-Wilhelm, stop it," he said between tremors. "It will get better as s-s-s-soon you're stripped o-o-o-off the wet c-c-c-clothes."

The unfocused gaze of the older man met his and for a moment recognition was in the dark blue eyes. "H-H-H-Hogan?" Klink mumbled; sounding hopeful like a child.

"Yeah, it's m-m-m-me. Calm down. We're s-s-s-safe now," the colonel replied gently.

"O-o-o-o-okay," was the only answer he got, before Klink sighed deeply – and was out cold a moment later.

Obermayer had watched the scene thunderstruck. "Do all POW's care for their jailor like you do, Colonel?"

Hogan looked over his shoulder. "Colonel Klink always treats us f-f-f-fair and with respect, and… we both know each other for a-a-a-almost three years now." A new shudder ran through his body but at least his teeth didn't chatter that badly anymore. "I'm the senior officer of the POWs a-a-a-and therefore the colonel and I have often to interact with each other. I respect him f-f-f-for what he is: A loyal man with honor and decency."

Anneliese returned, carrying the medical kit. "The water will boil in a few minutes, then I'll make us all tea." She looked at Klink. "How is he?"

"Asleep – for now," Hogan murmured. Then he stiffened for a moment; realizing that a lady was present while he was in a more or less unclothed state. "Ma'am, I a-a-a-apologize for my appearance, but…"

Anneliese shortly took in his half-bare state. She saw the dog tag he wore on a thin chain around his neck and realized that it contained a duplicate made of metal foursquare. She knew from her son that the German ones were round and dark. She asked herself how the so-called 'dog tags' of the Germans and Americans differed further.

She caught Hogan's still embarrassed gaze and smiled, "Colonel, I'm not one of the town-ladies who has to fan herself when she only sees a man's naked chest. A man without clothes isn't a big deal for me. By the way, the blanket covers the most – just like a Roman tunic." She winked at him, and Hogan to his surprise felt himself flushing.

"Thank you, Ma'am. You're very k-k-k-kind." His voice became more firmly second by second now. Then he glanced at Oscar. "Let's clean his wounds and treat them. I'll help you."

"Are you now a doctor, too, Hogan?" Schnitzer teased him while taking the medic kit, and the American smiled shortly.

"You have no idea what knowledge y-y-y-you gain when being trapped in a POW-camp."

At this statement – especially the part of being 'trapped' in the camp – Schnitzer had to laugh. Then he turned serious again. "How did you get this bruise?" he asked; pointing nonchalant at Hogan's cheek. "Don't tell me, Klink lost patience with you."

It was a joke, but it didn't go well with the still tensed American. "Colonel Klink would n-n-n-never raise a hand against a prisoner, as you certainly know! He sends us to the cooler if we break rules, and even then, he only goes through the p-p-p-punishment half way, releasing us days earlier than originally ordered." He met Oscar's surprise gaze, and added softly, "I had a run-in with Hochstetter, that's all."

"Hochstetter?" Obermayer cut in, alarmed. "The leading Gestapo-officer in the area?"

Hogan looked shortly at him; the violent shivers were leaving him finally. "As it seems, Hochstetter isn't famous, but infamous – not only among us prisoners." He sighed. "Yeah, I mean exactly this black-clad gnome with a permanent foul mood and a streak of yelling a lot." He saw how the other man tensed up even more and realized that Obermayer was afraid that he could get in trouble with the Gestapo for hosting someone they were after. So, he stuck to half-truth and a few exaggerations, as he added, "He's possessed with the idea that I run an Underground-organization and has wanted to prove it for months now." He shook his head and chuckled. "Me – a POW, running a ring of spies from a camp that is known as the toughest POW-camp in whole of Germany. There has never been an escape. A few of my men and even I tried to flee, but without success. As incredible as it sounds, but Klink is too clever for us."

Obermayer frowned. "As far as I understand, you had your chance this evening after the attack."

The colonel made an affirming gesture. "Yes, but that would have meant leaving the Kommandant behind who got injured because he saved me during the attack. We are on different sides in this damn war, but this doesn't mean that I have to lose my humanity by letting down a man who just risked his neck to get mine out of danger. And, as I already said, Klink has earned my respect for being the man of honor he is. I wouldn't leave him behind, even if he didn't saved my life minutes earlier."

Astonished Andreas looked at the American, who just politely bowed his head towards him, before he turned around and began to help Schnitzer to treat Klink's injuries. If it wouldn't sound so completely crazy, Obermayer could have sworn those two officers were close friends. Shaking his head, he leant back against the wall and watched the two men aiding the injured Oberst.

Ten minutes later all that could be done, had been done. Klink's left calf and upper arm were cleaned and bandaged, he was wrapped into one of the covers that had been earlier spread over a desk and a desk-chair under the window, and a woolen blanket added the much needed warmth.

Hogan sat beside him on the bed's edge and sipped at the heavenly smelling and tasting tea. He was still chilled to the bones, but he felt better by now. Yet he knew that maybe he had caught a cold at least, and he really didn't look forward to sneezing and coughing his head off within the next days. And he was certain that Klink would suffer the same, if not more. The older man wasn't in such a good physical condition as Hogan was. The colonel simply knew that they all would witness a whining and 'dying' Klink within the next days. Maybe LeBeau's cooking could lift Klink's mood then and…

Hogan stiffened and almost had slapped himself. LeBeau… his men! None of them knew what happened. And there was also the matter of Hochstetter. Knowing the Gestapo, they certainly would send a search party when Hochstetter didn't show up within time. Or Hochstetter was already back in Hammelburg, thinking him and Klink dead or was organizing search parties to seek for him (and Klink). Maybe the major would contact Schultz to learn if he, Hogan, and Klink had returned and would presume them dead. Kinchloe, Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau, Baker, Olsen and the other men would be devasted and he really didn't want to give them more reason to suffer than they certainly already did by worrying their heads off for him.

Making a decision, Hogan addressed Andreas Obermayer, "Sir, do you have a telephone here?"

"Yes, but electricity is rationed and switched off after nine o'clock for the whole night."

"What?" Hogan glanced surprised at him. "Since when is this the case?"

"For more than two weeks now," Schnitzer answered; looking up from his task. "You only didn't learn about it, because certain facilities have emergency generators, like Stalag 13, the hospital, the police station, Gestapo-Headquarter, the central telephone exchange to guarantee said facilities to be able to phone should it be necessary, and so on. But all other buildings are switched off power during night. Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to call our camp to let the active Kommandant know of our whereabouts and that we survived the attack."

"Who is in command for now?" Oscar wanted to know; already anticipating the answer. "Schultz?"

Hogan grinned shortly and nodded.

"Oh dear," Schnitzer sighed. "Well, it's night. Maybe the camp will survive until morning when electricity is back online, and you can call him to let him know that you and Klink are still alive."

Biting shortly his lips, the colonel addressed Obermayer. "At what time electricity will be switched on?"

"That depends. Mostly at six o'clock, but three days ago it was already seven o'clock as the power was back," the farmer answered and emptied his cup before he rose. "I suggest that you and the Oberst will sleep here. I'm sorry that we can't offer you a separate bed, but this room is the only one that is unoccupied in the moment. It once belonged to my eldest son. Peter and Marie are sleeping in my daughter's room at the other side of the floor, beside the master bedroom, and Oscar got the chamber of my middle child."

"It's no problem, sir," Hogan answered. "A bed is a bed, and I'm more than grateful for your hospitality." He looked at Klink. "I only hope he doesn't snore."

Schnitzer chuckled. "Pinch his nose and he certainly will stop it."

"As long as it isn't regarded as an attack on another officer…" Hogan sighed; eyes sparkling for a moment with mischief, then he turned serious again. "Can you drive Colonel Klink and me to the camp tomorrow?" he addressed Schnitzer, who shrugged.

"If this damn snowstorm has calmed down until then I see no reason why I shouldn't give you two a ride. Be ready to shovel some snow from the road, Hogan. The thick snow cover is the reason why I've to take Andreas' offer to sleep here. My truck had never let me down, but its old and has its limits."

"No problem at all," the colonel answered.

In this moment the first snore was heard and rolling his eyes Hogan looked down at Klink, who still trembled slightly even in his sleep. "I knew it," he sighed. "I simply knew it!"

Obermayer and Schnitzer bid him good-night a few minutes later and vanished; closing the door behind themselves.

Hogan was alone – alone with a snoring, still shivering Wilhelm Klink who lay in the bed like a baby and was dead to the world.

Wrapping the blanket more firmly around himself, the colonel pursed his lips. There were two possibilities now: He could sleep on the floor which didn't sound appealing the tiniest bit, or he simply could share the bed with his German counterpart.

Looking at Klink he realized that he had to use the side of the bed that was next to the wall – meant he had to climb over the Oberst. Groaning in defeat – the coziness and warmth of the bed was too tempting – he opened the blanket he had wrapped round himself a little bit and tried to get to the other side of the bed without disturbing Klink.

Half climbing, half crawling he finally reached his destiny, earned some unwilling grunts from his unusual bed-companion, and slipped under the second woolen blanket he had taken with him.

Promptly he shivered, while his tired gaze roamed one last time through the room. Obermayer had left his petroleum lamp that send a dim, golden shimmer through the chamber. The wood in the oven crackled, outside the storm raged and it creaked in the roof beams above, yet the whole atmosphere was somehow inviting and comforting.

Beside him Klink still trembled from time to time, and as Hogan carefully reached out and placed a hand on the older man's shoulder he felt that the skin was far too cool. The Oberst's core temperature was still dangerous low and not giving a damn about modesty – and surrendering to rationality – Hogan pushed away the thin covers he and Klink wore instead of clothes. "I hope you appreciate what I'm doing here, Willie. I really don't want to hear any complaining from you tomorrow," he grumbled while closing the distance to his sleeping-companion. "God, you're cold," he groaned quietly, as his bare chest and limps came in contact with the older man and he had to suppress another shiver.

As a Boy-Scout he had gone through a lot of survival training and one of the base-knowledges included emergency measurement when someone was about to die from cold. Sharing body-heat was the simplest but also most effective step that could be done; increased by skin-to-skin contact.

Careful not to touch the two bandages, Hogan slowly slipped his arms and legs around the lanky form in front of him – even lifting softly Klink's head to put his right arm beneath it. Latter had two simple reasons: One, he still had the handcuff snapped around his wrist with the short rest of the chain and it would be very uncomfortable if he came to lie on it during the night. And two, being this close to his bed-companion there was no room left to put his arm elsewhere.

New tremors run through the Oberst's body and Hogan's eyes widened, as Klink snuggled deeper into him; driven by instinctively search for warmth. Well, it felt strange to lie like this with a guy, on the other hand the situation didn't leave him with any choices. And, by the way, after a few moments it wasn't so awkward as it had been before. It almost felt… nice to be not alone in bed for once, even if this was strict platonic. Yet Hogan knew what picture he and Klink gave.

'If Hochstetter or Burkhalter would see us like this, we would face a firing squad quicker than we could explain any survival-tactics,' the colonel thought, before the cockier part of him added inwardly, 'So thank the Lord that the two morons aren't here.'

Finding a position that was comfortable – even with the living icicle in his arms – Robert Hogan began to relax. The warmth and the knowledge to be safe for now did the rest to lull him into dreamland. It didn't last long until he was deeply asleep.

TBC…

Poor Hogan. First he has to drag Klink through the woods, then he has to take care of him and now he even has to be his personal 'comforter'. And, believe me, the waking up for both in the morning will be slightly chaotically (*snicker*).

In the next chapter Schultz learns of the attack against the convoy and – of course – he, Langenscheidt and the others are going to believe the worst. Hochstetter reaches Hammelbug and will be his typical mean self. Well, and – as already mentioned – our two colonels will have a messy morning; especially given the fact that Hogan uses the circumstances to tease Klink merciless, until 'Willie' turns the tables a little bit.

I hope you liked the new chapter and that you – despite the summer heat – got a sense for the icy coldness and the danger that really threatened the two counterparts.

Like always I'm hoping for comments, reviews and any other kind of feedback.

Have a nice Sunday

Love

Yours Starflight