Hi, my dear readers,

I'm happy that I can already publish the next chapter, because my dear beta-reader has finished the most stress-full tasks with her studies and extra-jobs and is able to spend some time to edit my writing.

I hope, you liked the last chapter and it didn't bore you, because this is the first time I didn't get any feedback except for a few kudos. I know that you certainly wait for our two colonels to make the biggest step in their new-found relationship, but on the other hand this is all very new for Hogan and Klink doesn't want to scar him off.

I hope, the new chapter is more to your liking. It will be about 'the speech' Schultz gives Hogan after he figured out to what the two colonels are up to. Furthermore Burkhalter will be an unwilling information source concerning secret projects of the Luftwaffe, Klink's little idea of distracting the Gestapo by another sabotage hits home, and the Heroes begin to realize the great change in the colonel's relationship.

In other words: A lot is going on.

Have fun

Love

Yours Starflight

Chapter 37 – Serious discussions

Hogan observed Schultz' face, which he had rarely seen this earnest. He could already guess the topic the large Bavarian wanted to talk about with him, but the directness Schultz displayed a moment later still took him by surprise.

"Herr Hogan, I do understand that your relationship with Oberst Klink has changed. The Kommandant is more cheerful and happier than I ever saw him, and seeing you smiling and whistling, too, I know why. I don't care what two men can do behind closed doors in a sleeping room…"

"Schultz," Hogan raised his voice to speak, the warning clear in his words. "This is really…"

"Let me finish!"

The stern tone and the firm glare Schultz used were utterly new for Hogan and, for once, he really shut up; thunderstruck.

"Like I said, I don't care what you two do here," Hans began anew. "I have known about the Oberst's weakness for you for very long now, and I can also understand that those last weeks were more than hard for you. This war wears us all down, and every gentle gesture and nice word is absorbed like a dried-up sponge getting some water. So, it's no wonder that you gave into the temptation of finding some solace. I know Klink well enough – he would never try to force himself on someone or abuse his position. And he certainly didn't use the chance given to woo you openly, yet it is more than clear that you two are together in a way men are not allowed to. You two can do whatever you want – I won't tell anybody about it. Yet there is one thing I'm demanding: Don't hurt him!"

Hogan felt his jaw almost hit the ground. "I… I beg your pardon?" he gasped.

"You heard me," Schultz answered strongly. "I know that you're a ladies man and, contrary to those idiots in the government or the so-called scientists, I don't believe that gayness is something you can be infected with. Therefore this relationship with Klink is something you either wanted, too, because you belong to the same group of men – which I don't really believe after seeing you kiss and flirt with every pretty woman that comes along. Or you are doing this for a purpose. I don't care what it is, what you plan or intend: But don't hurt him. Klink's feelings for you are real and run very deep. If you're only playing with him – using him for your crazy tasks – then you'll face a lot of trouble with me. The Kommandant and I may not always get along, but I respect him and don't want to see him destroyed. Because this would be the result if you're not serious about what's going on between you two."

Hogan, who felt as if he were getting 'the talk' from a girl's father, didn't know if he should be irritated or touched, and for a moment he didn't know what say except for, "Schultz…"

The large Bavarian made a step into his direction and added with calm urgency, "Wilhelm Klink is, beneath all his pompous and eccentric behavior, a very vulnerable man, Colonel. He doesn't trust easily, he doesn't let someone close to him easily, but he made an exception for you – because he harbors true, deep feelings for you, no matter whether it is forbidden or not. Love is not something you can control. Love can be the most beautiful thing in the whole world – but also the most cruel one. Don't harm him! He doesn't deserve this."

Hogan knew that he had to be utterly truthful now – just like Schultz was with him. Usually, he would have given every other man a piece of his mind if he had been lectured by them like this, but he felt deep in his heart and soul that the other male had only spoken to him thus because he worried for his friend. His friend, not the Kommandant. And this was something Robert could not only understand, it even moved him.

"I know he loves me," he said quietly.

Schultz nodded. "I thought that you had recognized it by now. You're far too intelligent to miss something so important." He took a deep breath. "And knowing that you at least respect and like him, let me make a request on his behalf. If this is only a game for you – even if you are obviously enjoying it for the moment – it would shatter him if you turned away in the end, or if he finds out the truth. It would break his heart. So, if this whole thing is only a nice side-effect for your many damn schemes, then end it before it goes too far. But if you really have developed feelings for him, then stand by him. He has been disappointed so often and was lonely for so long, I already feared he would inwardly die – but you gave him a new reason to enjoy life. If this all here –" He made a short gesture that included the whole room, "– is true for you both, I'll protect your secret as best as I can. But if you are only toying with him, then…"

"I'm not!" Hogan interrupted him calmly, but firmly. He saw the open distrust in Schultz's gaze and sighed. "I know, it sounds unbelievable. To say the truth, even I can't believe it, but… Will caught me. He caught me good."

"And your flirting with Fräulein Hilda or the other…"

"I do enjoy being with women, don't get me wrong here. Until a few days ago I never thought that… that I could develop these kind of feelings for a guy." He threw his hands up. "But here I am – having the big hots for another male. And not your usual guy, no, it had to be my official enemy and jailer." He snorted and shook his head. "I was forced to admit to myself that I like Klink almost two years ago. Hell, I began to care for him and didn't want to watch him get hurt, and then… a few days ago, everything changed. I think it began when he was almost killed during the aircraft ambush. We ran, I heard him scream, turned around and saw him sprawled on the ground. For a moment I… I thought he was dead and…" He took a deep breath. "I was horrified, to say the least. Then I saw him move and returned, happy that he was still alive. I didn't care that the next attack lay ahead, I only wanted to get him to safety. Then the walk back to the camp – better to say, our attempt. He became weaker and weaker because of the injuries and the cold and… I really feared for him. I think, this was the beginning of what developed later."

Schultz cocked his head. "You realized that your feelings of friendship run deeper," he pondered.

Hogan snorted. "No, not really. I thought about those hours a lot – about my near panic as I became aware of the danger he was in while we stumbled through the woods. Of course I knew that I care for him, but this… was stronger. Hell, I even didn't mind cuddling up with him in the farmhouse to warm him. It didn't feel awkward – not really. But all this was nothing compared to what happened later after he saved me from Hochstetter's clutches." He sighed and slowly shook his head. He bypassed Schultz and sat down on the bed's edge. "The way he took care of me gave me a sense of security – of comfort and understanding. He did nothing that would have made me suspicious that he felt something other than friendship for me, yet… at night we snuggled up. He held me, I held him – and it was right. He comforted me when the nightmares got the best of me, talked with me, soothed me… And then those dreams began…"

"Dreams?" Hans asked; having a very good idea what kind of dreams Hogan was referring to. He got it confirmed a moment later.

"Yeah – dreams. Those dreams, you know." He waved his right hand. "And they were all about him."

Hans leant his rifle against the wall beside the door and lowered himself beside Hogan. "And it confused you," he assumed.

Robert snorted. "Damn right. I was shocked, to say the least. I tried to ignore it, but… it grew and grew. The evening prior to yesterday… it happened." He shook his head again. "Wilson couldn't stop by to treat my back because of the increasing cold-epidemic he has to take care of, and Will offered to help me with the ointment. And then… it happened." He trailed off; looking into nothingness.

Schultz shortly pursed his lips; realizing that Hogan had changed Klink's given name to the English short-version, which could be considered a pet-name. From 'Klink' and sometimes a taunting 'Willie' to 'Will'. Life really was funny sometimes.

"And how do you feel about it now?" he asked the younger man curiously.

A soft smile began to play around Hogan's lips. "It feels right. So damn right that it should baffle me, but it doesn't. Isn't it crazy? Me, who doesn't skip any chance to fool around with a pretty girl, falls for a guy." He chuckled shortly. "I love my friends, yes, but I couldn't imagine feeling what I feel for Will for one of them. It's… it's strange, and confusing, but… I've never felt like this before. Yes, I've fallen in love here and there, but it has never been so… intense."

"Maybe you always had a streak for both genders," Schultz thought aloud, "and…"

"Or it has nothing to do with the gender, but with the person. It's Will I've feelings for – his person, not his gender. And… exchanging physical tenderness simply comes with the whole package." He stroke one hand through his hair, messing it up. "And I don't know where this will lead."

"To hell or to the heavens – and what it will be, is up to you two," the large Bavarian murmured thoughtfully; utterly relieved that the American obviously wasn't up to some foul game concerning Klink, but had, indeed, developed sincere feelings for his German counterpart. That Hogan wasn't lying about this issue was more than obvious. Schultz knew how clever the colonel was with words, but never had he heard the other man stutter like this. It told him more than everything else.

"Well, where it will lead is not only up to us, but also fate," Robert said quietly. "I know that what we're doing is a crime by law…"

"At least this is something you're used to handle," Schultz joked.

Hogan rolled his eyes and laughed quietly. "Don't let anybody hear this," he grinned, then he turned serious again. Looking at Hans, he became aware that he had opened up to the older man like never before – because he trusted the large Bavarian and knew that not only Klink, but also he had a confidante in the sergeant. Smiling, he said gently. "You're a damn good friend, Schultz. Klink can call himself lucky to have such a loyal soul who watches out for him."

The Sergeant of the Guards flushed a little bit. "You're not angry that I tackled you about your changed relationship with Klink?"

A sigh escaped the American. "Every other man would have gotten a fitting answer from me had they confronted me like this about something so private, but I know you. You're like a big brother, uncle and factotum in one – a real guardian, not only for the POWs, but also for your commanding officer. You care for everyone around you – and especially for those you think you have to protect." He laid one hand on Schultz's underarm. "No, I'm not angry. I'm… touched."

Hans beamed at him. "I'm glad – that my fears were for naught, especially. I like you both, you know, but my first loyalty lies with the big shot." He rose. "So, jolly-joker, have breakfast, then, and rest a little bit afterwards. I think you need it after the last two nights," he teased.

"Schultz!"

The large Bavarian smirked at him and went to the bathroom. Wrapping the wet linens into a large towel, he re-appeared again. "A little advise from me to you love-birds: Don't use so many linens, or the guys who are doing the wash-service will get suspicious."

Hogan sighed. "But we need to change them after…" He stopped and felt, to his horror, himself blushing fiercely.

Schultz chuckled; his gaze was warm. "I'll bring you some large towels. Use them instead of the sheets or, at least, spread them above the mattress before you two forget Earth and time. Washing towels is less unusual than changing linens every night." He winked at Hogan, whose face was comparable in hue to a tomato, and walked to the door. "I brought you breakfast from the casino. It's on the table. Until later."

"Schultz," Hogan called, while hoping that this damn flushing would stop soon.

The German looked back. "Yes?"

"Your rifle," the colonel said and pointed at the weapon that still leant against the wall.

"Oh… joa mei, I always forget this stupid thing." Holding the bundle with laundry in one hand, he took his weapon with his free hand and vanished; feeling relieved and even happy.

*** HH ***

Klink returned for lunch just in time today, and he had barely hung up his coat and placed his cap on the table, when the telephone rang. Sighing exaggeratedly, the Kommandant walked towards the dresser. "Not even during lunch do you get a break," he grumbled, went to the phone and picked up the receiver. "Yes? Who? Yeah, put him through."

He heard soft steps behind him and looked over his shoulder at Hogan, who had come out of the sleeping room with still slow movements, and looked questioningly at him. Placing his free hand over the mouthpiece, he whispered, "It's Krimina…" He stopped, took the hand away and greeted, "Ah, Kriminalrat Lübkemeier, nice hearing from you again. How is the investigation goi…" He grimaced. "Yes, I'm shutting up." He listened, and listened, and listened – and suddenly pulled the receiver away; grimacing.

"Kliiiiink, why are you not answering me?" the angry voice shouted from the receiver.

"You demanded that I should shut up, Herr Kriminalrat, now you're angry at me for doing so? You have to make a decision here: Either I stay silent as you wanted, or I answer your questions, but for doing so I've to disobey your first order. So, what is it?"

Hogan was, for a moment, completely baffled at Wilhelm's dry and absolutely unusual reply, then he had to bite his lips to prevent himself from bursting out with laughter – especially as he caught Klink winking at him with amusement in his eyes. Obviously the Oberst's new found strength not only resulted in steeling his nerves and giving him courage, but also in pulling the legs of men he would have feared earlier. Once again Hogan admired the older man for undergoing such a great change – only because he could live out his love, and his feelings were returned.

It was not understandable what the Gestapo-officer answered, even if he spoke loudly enough to be heard despite the fact that Klink had placed the receiver back against his ear, but that Lübkemeier was anything but amused was absolutely clear.

Klink sighed dramatically. "You guys from the Gestapo should really work at your moods. Is this the correct behavior for a high-ranking officer of the German police-department?"

Hogan turned his head away and chuckled quietly. LeBeau stood at the kitchen-door, looking with big eyes at the two officers and beginning to grin widely. Klink really had a way of annoying everyone, and, not for the first time, the two POWs asked themselves if all those silly discussions and comments Klink had had with Burkhalter (and in earlier times with Hochstetter) were his way of dealing with events and orders he loathed.

"Yes, yes, there are more important things, Herr Kriminalrat, I know. So, why do you ask after my senior POW officer and the last roll call?"

Quickly, the colonel looked back at his German counterpart, who had turned serious before a large smirk spread over his face, yet his voice was absolutely neutral as he asked, "The whole cargo was destroyed? What… Jet-drives for the new Messerschmitt? Heavens, this sounds bad. I'm certain the brass in Berlin won't take this news well and… Yes, yes, Goering can show temper sometimes, I know." He bounced on his feet with glee. "But pray tell what this has to do with my… What? Herr Kriminalrat, do you really think Colonel Hogan could heal well enough within four days to run around and blow up bridges? By the way, there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13 and – you know this? And why are you pestering me with those stupid questions about my senior POW's presence then? He lies in bed and heals, and the other POWs are on the compound or in their barracks – and were all present this morning. What? I shall make another roll call? What for?" He rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, it's absolutely possible to drive 60 km or more to the north-west of Fulda, blow up a bridge the moment a train passes over it, and then return to Hammelburg. And this all in those five hours between now and the morning roll-call. I do know that the Gestapo is distrusting by nature, but sometimes I think the prerequisite to climbing up the career-ladder in your club is being paranoid."

Hogan had crossed his arms in front of his chest and listened to the conversation which he could only hear one side of. It was almost fascinating how Klink stultified the Kriminalrat and the man's ideas, but also played along officially.

Suddenly, Will's face turned red. "No, I'm not naive, Herr Kriminalrat, I'm a realist. Wasting no time with things of which you know to lead to nothing is the subject of every first strategy-lesson at a military academy. And this is not the only difference between a schooled military officer and a police member, like I just realized once again." He raised his voice. "I do not care if my comments irritate you or not. I'm angry too, since you hold me and my camp under suspicion again, despite the fact that you are exactly aware that Colonel Hogan is in a terrible condition and therefore can't have been responsible for the sabotage – neither that of five days ago, nor that of this morning. Yet you are wasting my time by calling me and bringing into question the same silly idea Hochstetter was already obsessed with. And you learned what happened to him because of it. You'd better try to catch those people blowing up our railways, and stop keeping me away from my duty." He listened shortly. "What? You are just doing it – by suspecting one single injured man, and by disturbing a high ranking Luftwaffe-officer for some silly questions you already knew the answer to? I'm curious what Heinrich is going to say to that." He smiled, satisfied, as he obviously got no reply this time. Nodding, he said firmly, "And now excuse me, please. I have a camp to run."

He ended the telephone talk by placing the receiver on the cradle, and took a deep breath, before he grinned at Hogan and LeBeau. "They did it. The Underground blew up another bridge in the north of Fulda. More than six hundred jet-drives for the new Messerschmitt were destroyed." He rubbed his hands. "Everyone who still suspected you of being Papa Bear was disabused now."

"Except for Lübkemeier," Robert murmured.

Klink shrugged. "He has absolutely no reason to doubt your condition and therefore has to let go of any doubt concerning us here."

"When did the sabotage take place?" LeBeau asked; wiping his hands on the apron he wore.

"Half an hour ago. Lübkemeier just learned of it by receiving a radio message from the Gestapo-Headquarters in Fulda." He smirked. "Wilhelm Klink, putting one of your former kidnappers up for another sabotage was a brilliant idea from you!"

"Now he starts to fly high," LeBeau groaned, nodding his head towards Klink, while Hogan began to laugh quietly.

"Don't worry," he said to the tiny Frenchman. "I'll bring him back on the carpet."

"Oh, my dear Hogan, I'm not the only one who loves to 'fly high'," Klink teased. "Even the carpet you want to bring me down on already took flight – just like in the oriental fairytales."

With interest LeBeau watched how his superior and friend blushed fiercely, and pursed his lips. The way Klink wriggled his brows at Hogan, while the colonel displayed an unusual embarrassment, gave Louis something more to think about. It was just like their odd – no, silly! – behavior two evenings prior. They talked with their eyes and verbally between the lines about a secret. There was no doubt about it.

There was something going on between the two officers, this much was certain. And a part of LeBeau had a very good idea what this 'something' was, but – like before – he inwardly laughed it off. Imagining that the two men could have an affair was far too strange to be true.

*** HH *** HH ***

The news of the newest sabotage had reached Berlin a few minutes earlier than Lübkemeier's telephone talk with Klink. Later a few people said that they had heard the enraged shouts of a certain man with a sharp hair side parting and a mustache even at the ground level of the partly damaged Neue Reichskanzlei (New Reich's Chancellery). Burkhalter learned of the newest assault in the afternoon through a short telephone talk with Lübkemeier, who complained about the insolent way Klink had treated him just because 'he dared to ask about the POWs' presence' after the sabotage.

Burkhalter knew without asking for whose presence the Gestapo-officer had really asked: For Hogan's. And, of course, Klink went through the roof. Woe if someone was about to get too close to Hogan, and 'Weakling Klink' changed into the 'Iron Eagle' – or, as Burkhalter preferred, into a kind of harpy. And, somehow, it was the same the other way around. Hogan was a prankster, an oversized boy with a sharp mind and a witty mouth, but Burkhalter had witnessed a few times that the American officer became a fierce warrior when not only one of his men, but also Klink was at stake.

And one day, maybe soon, he would confront the two about it. Yes, from time to time there had been – always would be – cases in which jailer and prisoner developed a kind of personal relationship, but Burkhalter had to admit that this, whatever Klink and Hogan were to each other, was different. He assumed that those two had built a kind of friendship, forbidden or not under the whole circumstances, and the general had played with the thought of transferring one of them a few times, but one thing hindered him: Stalag 13 was the only POW-camp in the whole Third Reich that functioned. And he simply knew that this was rooted in the fact that the two commanding officers – Kommandant and senior POW – went along rather well. And given the whole mess within Germany by now, he was glad for every little thing he hadn't to worry about.

Yet he knew that Lübkemeier's complains could lead to trouble, so Burkhalter called Klink and asked about the two days the Oberst had actively supported the Kriminalrat. With the typical boasting and chuckles, Klink answered his questions – a really odd behavior given the circumstances. It heightened the general's already unhealthy blood pressure, and finally he almost burst with anger. The whole REIHMAHG-project was about to fail, two important railways were destroyed – and this fool was laughing and joking as if he was on a tea-party!

"You are in a hilariously good mood today, Klink," he snapped angrily. "May I ask for the reason?"

In Stalag 13 at his desk, Klink realized that he had to be careful now. His good mood could be misunderstood by Burkhalter; especially given the fact there had been a big sabotage today that, indeed, could influence the further war. "Well, I got a good message from my optician only half an hour ago," the Oberst came up with an excuse. "I had to order five new monocles after my last one broke yesterday, and he just gave me an extra discount of 10 percent." He lifted his right index-finger. "That saves me a sum of approx. …."

"Klink!" raged through the line. "The whole project in Thüringen is about to go down the hill because of the damn Resistance and the German traitors! This can be crucial for the war – and you speak about your stupid monocles?"

"Well, without one I'm half blind, as you certainly know," the Kommandant defended himself, while he suddenly saw a chance to learn more about the project. If he was clever, he could gather some further information, which would certainly be important for London. He groaned inwardly. He had really begun to think like Robert! God help him!

"But what is it about Thüringen?" he asked; changing the topic carefully. "You said the cargo was for the new serial-production of the Messerschmitt, and now you're referring to Thü…"

A sigh was heard; obviously Burkhalter calmed down as the talk changed towards Goering's temporary 'favorite child'. "This is about the serial-production, Klink. The factory is in Thüringen and…"

Within the next minutes Klink learned more than he'd bargained for, and even if he was glad that he now knew where the hidden factory was located, he was also shocked about everything that was connected to it. Yet he managed to sound proud as he praised Goering's 'cleverness' and the courage of the Luftwaffe and SS to start such a project at all.

Finally they changed the topic back to the reason why Burkhalter had called at all, and Klink balled a fist in triumph as he heard that the investigation in Hammelburg had been closed and further inquiries had been reoriented to the area of Fulda. Burkhalter had learned from his 'dear friend' that Oberleutnant Schmidt, Leutnant von Neuhaus and Kriminalrat Lübkemeier had given reports to Berlin with the results – they had found nothing they could use to catch the responsible saboteurs – and that the Gestapo was now concentrating on Fulda and the remaining railways.

Not only the two railways near Hammelburg and Fulda were unusable now, only a few days ago the English Royal Airforce had destroyed the railway installation at Gelsenkirchen, Dortmund and Hannover. The stations of Fulda and Aschaffenburg were also greatly damaged for three weeks now, and the same went for stations in other large towns. Since the 23rd January the Deutsche Reichsbahn (German Reichs-Train) was forced to stop a part of the civil rail-traffic; especially the express- and semi-fast trains. The still intact railroads were only used of the Wehrmacht and SS by now. The destroyed bridge in Fulda and the damaged railways around Hammelburg were responsible that the rail-traffic from the south to the east was out of order what also cut off a lot of supply-deliveries for the northern Russian Front. The brass in Berlin was raging since the news reached them.

As Klink placed the receiver back on the phone, he sighed deeply. As it seems, his little idea to distract Lübkemeier by initiating another sabotage, had been a full blown against the regime, and a part of Wilhelm was shocked that he was the one who was responsible for it. On the other hand, any attenuation of Hitler's war machinery shortened the time of the current insanity. And, what was most important for Klink, the danger for his camp, for him – and for Hogan and his men – was over, for now. And there were also all those details he just got from Burkhalter concerning the Messerschmitt-project; something the Allies had to learn of quickly.

Rising, he went to one of the shelves and took out his lexicon; gathering more information which could be usable for the Allies. Ending his duty earlier than usual, he sent Fräulein Hilda home ("You really have worked long hours, my dear. Go home and enjoy the evening with your parents."), and went to his quarters. Relieved, he heard the voices of Hogan's men as he opened the front door. Like this they would save some time. Then he became aware of the topic, and straightened his shape. As it seemed, he could give answers to a few questions the Heroes were obviously discussing.

Stepping into the living room, he found the colonel on the sofa and wrapped in one of the comforters, while his men sat on the on the armchairs and on two chairs they took from the kitchen.

"An early good evening, Gentlemen," he greeted while opening his coat and loosening his scarf. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Instantly, Hogan's little gang rose and saluted casually – what a difference to the earlier times.

At Klink's voice Hogan quickly looked up, and his heart jumped as he saw Will. He wasn't aware of the warm smile that played around his lips, as he replied,

"Good evening, Kommandant. You aren't interrupting anything," he replied; skipping the military greeting.

Klink lifted both brows. "You could have almost fooled me," he deadpanned. "Let me guess, the Gentlemen are discussing the last successful sabotage the Underground did in their name, and how this will delay the serial production of the Messerschmitt." He hung his coat and scarf up. "Yet there was already a test-flight of the ME-262 V5 that was a full success. And you don't have to be a genius to figure out what this will mean."

Five alarmed faces glanced at him. "A test-flight?" Hogan asked, perplexed. "No, we didn't hear anything about it until now."

Cocking his head, the Oberst watched the younger man closely, realized that Hogan wasn't joking and nodded in understanding, "Ah yes, you're still cut off from London." He closed the distance to the sofa and threw his cap on the table, while Robert put his feet down on the floor to make room for him. "But I'm glad to tell you that the radio-less time is over. I spoke with Burkhalter, who informed me that Lübkemeier and his goonies are now in Fulda. The investigation in Hammelburg is finished."

Kinchloe groaned. "That means one or two short nights to set up everything again."

"See the positive," LeBeau joked. "You don't have to listen to Pierre's snoring."

"Who is snoring?" Newkirk asked.

"You!" came from Kinch, Carter and LeBeau.

Hogan chuckled while he exchanged a quick look with Klink. Sometimes his men really were oversized kids, but he loved them nonetheless.

The Oberst sat down beside his senior POW officer, pushed the glasses more up his nose and folded his hands in his lap. "But this is not all Burkhalter told me," he continued.

Hogan smiled. "You got more information."

"Yes," Klink affirmed. "And I don't know if you'll be happy with the news."

Klink's announcement woke the full attention of the others and stopped any jokes.

"What did you find out?" the colonel asked quietly.

"Thüringen."

"I beg your pardon?" Carter looked confused between the two officers forth and back. "What is a turing?"

Klink chuckled for a moment. "Thüringen, you call it Thuringia in English, is a German state – a province – north-east from here." He turned serious again and glanced back at Hogan. "The final construction of the Messerschmitt is done there in a facility that is carved into a hill near the little town Kahla. They refitted and expanded an old mine, graded the top of the mountain and built a tarmac there."

Thunderstruck, the Heroes glanced at him. "And how… do they get the finished aircrafts on the top of the mountains? By using a lift, or what?" Kinchloe asked disbelievingly.

"Exactly," Klink nodded. "It's a platform that works like a cliff railway – means it is pulled along rails with strong ropes onto the top of the mountain. The planes will start from there and are going to be stationed on different air-bases afterwards."

"Clever!" Newkirk acknowledged.

"Boy, they must have bust away oodles of stone," Carter murmured. "And only think of the whole equipment they must have installed inside. Or the tarmac. The whole wood on the top had to be cleared and…"

"You're pointing out something very important," Klink interrupted him; expression tight, eyes becoming furious. "The whole work was done by slave workers – coming from all conquered countries. Belgium, France, the Netherlands, Poland and so on. Even from Austria – and the most are from Italy – no matter the fact that Italy belongs to Hitler's allies. Most of the workers are political prisoners – people who don't agree with Hitler and his ways – or people of 'unworthy heritage', as it is called." He grimaced. "But there are also workers from Germany who are accused of other crimes and try to avoid prison by working at the project. And they are all still there, because the facility hadn't been completed until now."

"So, if the Allies employ air-force attacks those workers would die, too," Hogan said quietly. "How many are there?" The colonel assumed the worst – it was even worse.

"More than fourteen thousands," Klink said with a pressed voice. "They began with almost fifteen thousands, but…" He lowered his gaze.

"They fell prey to the work, the pressure and the whole circumstances – and to the cruelty of their jailers," Kinch murmured. He didn't need to see the Oberst nodding.

"Yes. They did the entire work in over a year – under inhuman conditions. A lot of them didn't survive. Just like it is everywhere where the regime builds great projects. Burkhalter told me that there are more than forty thousand enslaved workers within Germany who are forced to build war machinery, bases and to repair destroyed roads and railways." He lowered his head; deeply ashamed. "Another incomparable crime of my country."

"Sweet Lord," Hogan whispered; closing his eyes. He could only imagine the despair, hunger, pain and fear those people had endured now for years. "Where are they all accommodated?"

Klink snorted; his gaze shone with loath. "The workers in Thüringen are living in firmly guarded barracks and huts at the hill-side – as human shields against any attack the Allies may be going to start. The other workers at the other factories are mainly housed in satellite stations of the larger Working Camps, of which I – personally – can assume by now that the word 'work' is a wrong description." He sighed. "But concerning the REIHMAHG-project: Every attack from above will cost hundreds – thousands – of innocent lives."

"In other words only a ground-force attack can be done." Hogan balled his hands into fists. "Concerning the ME-262's final construction: Do you know where this hill is?"

"Yes. It's called the Walpersberg near the little village Kahla that is famous for its porcelain. It's not Meissen china, mind you, but likewise valuable. I can give you the exact location of the village and the hill – but I don't think that your people will be able to do anything at the moment. Next month at least a few new Messerschmitts will have been produced and if any of your bombers come near the area, the ME-262 V5 will be used for what they're constructed: For defense. Your air-crafts wouldn't stand a chance against them. Not with the new stream-drive our machines possess."

"What a devilishly clever move," Kinchloe murmured. "Have I ever said that the Luftwaffe is a serious opponent?"

"No – and a few years ago I would have thanked you for the compliment, but not anymore," the Kommandant growled.

"We've to do something," Hogan said. "If every day a few aircrafts are commissioned, the whole war can change again."

"As I said, if your people attack the hill, you will only kill those poor bastards who are forced to work for the regime. And even your biggest bombs wouldn't reach the factory in the inner stratum of the mountain. I looked up the lexicon before I came here. The mountains, to which the hill belongs, rose during the last ice-time and consist of strong stone elements." Klink took a deep breath. "But not all hope is lost. I congratulated Burkhalter and smeared a lot of honey around his mouth about the incredibly good scheming of our Luftwaffe, but he said that we lack pilots after the last big battle over two weeks ago. Over one thousand of our boys were shot down and were taken prisoner or were killed. Even if the serial production could start in time – impossible after the sabotages – there are not enough men, at the moment, to fly the birds. It will last until they've trained new pilots."

"So we've a period of grace," Hogan mused. "I don't know exactly who will reach Thuringia first – we or the Russians – but I think only an attack from the ground is possible if we don't want to cause thousands of deaths among the prisoners."

"But if we wait for the Allies to clear this mess out from the ground, it may be too late," Newkirk cut in. "I don't think our forces will reach the area within the next weeks, so we need to act sooner."

Klink nodded. "This would be the best. The only question is: How."

"An open attack is out of the question," Hogan said slowly. "At least in my opinion – and I will try to convince the brass in London so they come to the same conclusion. As urgent as it is to stop the serial production – or to prevent it from beginning at all – we can't do this on the cost of innocent people. Those men who are forced to work there are already victims. It would be a crime to sacrifice them. There is already enough blood shed in this damn war!"

Klink gave him a short, rueful smile. "If all warlords would think like you, Robert, the world would be a lot better."

Hogan snorted softly. "Thanks, Will."

Newkirk and Kinchloe exchanged a glance. 'Robert'? 'Will'?

LeBeau only pursed his lips thoughtfully. There really was something going on between those two. He would bet his last shirt on it.

Klink sighed. "But maybe the Allies can attack some of the still remaining railways which lead from the west and north to Thüringen. And it would be very nice of them to wait a few days before they take action. Burkhalter spoke with me about the whole thing and he might reach the right conclusion if shortly afterwards streets and railways near the secret factory, which was built within many months and had passed unnoticed until now, are suddenly under attack."

Hogan placed a hand on his German counterpart's underarm. "Don't worry, Wilhelm. I'll take care that you are not placed in any danger because of your active role as our supporter by now."

The soft gaze Klink gave him let Robert's heart beat quicker, while Kinchloe looked discretely into another direction, Carter blinked with confusion, and Newkirk and LeBeau frowned. Okaaaay, Klink was an ally now, and the two men were officers of the same rank which maybe built a sort of link between them, but weren't the two overdoing it a little bit with being so cozy with each other?

Clearing his throat, Kinch rose. "All right, we'll try to get our base back to work. Colonel, do you agree that we should first set up the radio station and open the entrance of the emergency tunnel before we take care of the rest?"

"Absolutely," Hogan nodded. "As soon as the radio is working again, contact London and tell them what happened and, even more importantly, give them the newest information. Tell them we got the details from our new source. If they have questions about said source, they have to wait until I'm fit again to go down into the tunnels." He glanced at Newkirk. "Peter, how quickly can you re-connect the telephone-station with that of the camp?"

"In a few hours," the Englishman shrugged. "We've to wire everything again, because we removed the old links in case the Gestapo and SS were to look at everything too closely."

"Well done," Hogan smiled at him, before he looked at Klink. "When will the evening roll be call?"

"As usual, around six o'clock."

Looking at the grandfather clock, the colonel mused. "So you guys have an hour until then. Start with the preparation as soon as possible so that you can begin work fully after roll call. I'm getting antsy since we don't have any emergency exit and are cut off from London."

LeBeau rose, grimaced at Newkirk and shook his head in the direction of Hogan, while he said to Peter, "He's doing better, no doubt."

"I agree," Kinchloe chuckled and got up, too.

"At least he thinks so," Klink commented. "That he is far from being really healed is plain to see if you look closer at him."

Robert groaned. "Mother-hen!" he complained.

"Reckless churl," Will smiled back far too kindly.

To the Heroes' astonishment their well-respected and even beloved superior – the genius of their operation, the man half of Nazi-Germany's forces were after – began to pout like a seven year old boy. "You're worse than my old man."

"Like I already told you before at a similar occasion: Your father was right and certainly had no easy job, dealing with you," Klink deadpanned.

Rolling his eyes, Hogan looked back at his baffled friends. "Okay, fellas, all fun aside, a few ways to the outer world have to be re-opened as soon as possible. Call me if something goes wrong, okay?"

"So, shall I renew the wire to the Kommandant's quarters first, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked; thunderstruck at how the two officers behaved in such a familiar way towards each other.

The colonel nodded. "Preferably – followed by the other bells and whistles." He beamed at them. "Thanks, my friends, until later."

The Heroes rose, gave him and Klink a quick, sloppy salute and left the building…

*** HH ***

Outside the winter wind had become stronger again, and burying both hands in the pockets of his jacket, Kinchloe walked with the others towards Barracks 2. Suddenly he chuckled. "We can consider us all very, very lucky that the whole camp hasn't burnt down by now."

Newkirk looked questioningly at him. "Why should it burn down?"

"Well, given all the sparks flying between the colonel and Klink, I'm really surprised that they haven't set everything aflame by now."

"Sparks?" Carter asked innocently.

LeBeau flipped his friend the bird. "You're crazy, Kinch."

"What sparks?" Andrew wanted to know.

"Even if it sounds completely insane, Kinch has a point here," Newkirk nodded slowly. "The two are… very familiar with each other by now. Usually I wouldn't waste a second thought about it. The gov'nor and Klink always got along rather well, and I think we all realized that they, indeed, have become friends long before they were ready to admit it, even to themselves. But now…" He shook his head. "If you're cold, you only have to look at the gazes they give each other, and instantly the temperature seems to rise by a lot of degrees."

LeBeau grimaced. "Not that I haven't had the same thoughts within the last days here and there – especially after I found them sleeping in one and the same bed."

"WHAT?" That came from all other Heroes, who stopped dead in their tracks in the middle of the compound, half on their way to Barracks 2. The icy wind was forgotten for now as they looked at LeBeau with eyes wide as saucers.

"Oui," the tiny Frenchman nodded. "I found them a few days after the colonel's rescue in the early midday – sleeping side by side under the same comforter, peaceful like little boys. And they didn't even really react to it as I freaked out."

"Klink and the colonel… rested in one and the same bed?" Kinchloe blinked several times, while a quiet voice in him pondered that he maybe hadn't put too much into the gazes the two officers gave each other, but perhaps even too little. "What the heck…!" he whispered.

"Maybe they were talking with each other and simply fell asleep," Carter mused. "Or the colonel had nightmares. After all he has been through, he certainly has nightmares. This would be normal, wouldn't it?"

"And what does this have to do with Klink sleeping beside him?" Newkirk demanded; uncomfortably remembering the warmth and affection in both men's eyes back in Klink's quarters. Hell, he had even joked about it a minute ago, but without being really serious. And then Klink's awfully good mood this morning during roll call. He hadn't rebuked Schultz, who had been late and later, as he had opened the window to let some fresh air into his office, they had heard him whistling. What if…

"Well, Klink certainly wanted to comfort the colonel," Carter continued. "I remember how it always soothed me when I had nightmares and my mother lay down beside me. It…"

"Carter, the gov'nor is almost forty. And Klink is neither his mother, nor his father or his brother. Hell, he wasn't even a real friend for a long time and…"

"They are friends now," Carter spoke up. "After all Klink did for the colonel, you can't say otherwise. You risk your life for a comrade, for a friend – but never for an enemy. Yet Klink didn't think twice as he came to the colonel's rescue, risking getting killed in the process. And then the way he acted around him afterwards. Boy, he was half mad with worry. This is friendship."

"Or more," LeBeau breathed more to himself than to the others, before he took a deep breath. "On the other hand, mon colonel is after every skirt, just like Klink. There is no way on Earth that…"

"Yet you and Newkirk have a point here, Louis. There are enough sparks between them to light up the whole area like a bonfire," Kinchloe cut in.

Carter threw both hands up. "This again! Could one of you guys be so incredibly kind and tell me of which 'sparks' you're speaking, and what it has to do with the two colonels sleeping side by side?"

LeBeau looked towards the skies; clearly frustrated now. "Mon Dieu, give me some patience and the garçon (boy) some enlightenment!"

Peter stared at the youngest member of the Heroes. "Blimey, Carter, how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-t…" He didn't get further, as Kinchloe pulled him along by gripping his upper arm.

"Be quiet, Andrew. This is a topic for adults. We'll tell you when you're older."

And he had to grin as Carter simply stuck out his tongue at him…

*** HH ***

The Heroes worked for hours. The evening roll call and the dinner were the only interruptions they had, before they resumed their task to re-open the tunnel entrances and – even more important – to set up the technical equipment again.

During the earlier evening the scratching and working from beneath was clear to hear in Klink's quarters, and around ten o'clock p. m. the furnace moved and a dirty Newkirk looked out from the hole, smirking at the two officers who were playing chess. Hogan had to laugh.

"This gives the term 'human mole' another meaning," he joked.

The Englishman rolled his eyes, wiped his face with the material of his left sleeve – which only smeared the dirt into another direction – and grumbled, "If so, you can call LeBeau a swallow, because just right now he is cowering on the roof of the Kommandantur and re-connecting the wires."

Klink's eyes widened which made the borrowed glasses slide down his nose. "On the Kommandantur?"

"The antenna is hidden in the flag-staff there," Hogan explained; revealing another secret.

Wilhelm groaned and pushed the glasses back up his nose. "I really do understand Schultz by now: I see nothing and I hear nothing. It's healthier like this. Without a doubt."

Newkirk couldn't help it; he chuckled. With a "I'll call you when the telephone works again," he saluted and climbed downwards – pulling the furnace back on its place in the process.

Klink looked at Hogan. "An antenna hidden in a flag-staff! You're a genius, my witty fox," he said softly.

The same moment the alarm began to ring – a shrill, sharp noise in the otherwise quiet late evening outside of the quarters. It tore like a sword through the warm and tender atmosphere in the living room and jerked the two men out of their comfortable mood.

"What the heck," Klink gasped and rose quickly.

Hogan paled. "Sweet Lord, don't let them have seen LeBeau," he whispered…

TBC…

Well, Schultz really can be a kind of papa, uncle and big brother, and I always loved his protectiveness he displayed a few times. Hell, he even shielded Klink on a few occasions, and therefore I imagined what he would do in the given situation: Of course 'the speech' to Hogan. I hope, you had fun with it like I had while writing the scene.

this was a lot of information the Heroes got through Klink (and Burkhalter), and this will lead to more when the brass in London learns of it: Hogan has to tell them, who is source is – and he doesn't go alone down into the tunnels. Yes, you assume correctly: In the next chapter Klink will see the tunnels for the first time ever – and I'm sure you're going to love the whole scene.

But first there is the issue with the rang alert what only can mean one thing: One of Hogan's men has been caught or is about of getting caught…

I hope, you liked the new chapter and I would be very happy to get some feedback about it (*smile*).

All those among you, who are mothers: Have a nice Mother's Day,

For all the others: Have a nice weekend.

Love

Yours Starflight