Hi, my dear readers!
Thank you so much for the big feedback I received. I knew you would like it – and I'm certain you're going to love the new one. Finally it's happening: Klink sees the tunnels. The reason for it is certainly amusing and sweet, but the background for Hogan to go down there despite his lack of health, is important for the next chapters.
Therefore: Off you go to Stalag 13.
Have fun
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 38 – The labyrinth downstairs
As the alarm continued blaring through the night, both officers exchanged a quick glance with each other. If LeBeau had really been caught wiring a cord with a hidden antenna on the roof of the Kommandantur, then not only the Frenchman, but also Hogan's whole organization was at stake. All their lives, including Klink's, would be as good as forfeit.
Klink stormed towards the entrance. "Stay here, Rob! I will try to get our cook out of trouble – and us all along with him."
Forced to stay behind, Hogan could do nothing else but throw his hands up in frustration and watch Klink vanishing into the darkness of his quarter's porch, while outside the spotlights were cutting through the late evening.
"SCHUUUUUULTZ, what's the meaning of this?" Klink shouted after spying the Sergeant of the Guards on the compound. Several guards were about to free the dogs, while others sprinted through the yard – automatic pistols ready to use.
"The guards said that there were some movements on the roof of the Kommandantur, Herr Kommandant," Schultz yelled.
"You're tearing me out of my night rest preparations because of an owl?" Klink snapped back; walking quickly over the compound while wrapping his arms around himself. Hell, it was cold and the red housecoat wasn't a protection at all. Why hadn't he put on his coat at least? Ah yes, correct, the reason for this chaos could be one of Robert's men.
Super!
"An owl wouldn't crawl but fly away, Herr Oberst," Schultz defended himself, while both men raced towards the office building. "And the shadow was large and definitely crawled away."
Klink gave him a glare. Sometimes he didn't know if Schultz really was this daft or if he only pretended to be unable to put two and two together. "You do know that you may have endangered one of Hogan's friends just right now?" he whispered fiercely, while they neared the Kommandantur. And there he saw the next catastrophe waiting to happen.
"Keep the dogs in their kennel!" Klink raised his voice to drown out the noises from the alarm and the loud barking of the animals. If the dogs were let loose they would find whoever of the POWs was creeping around and this could only end in catastrophe.
He earned some confused gazes from his guards, which were busy letting out the dogs just in this moment.
"But… Herr Kommandant," one of them began.
"Since when can a dog climb on a roof? Therefore the dogs wouldn't be of any help, but would hinder us finding out what's going on," the Oberst snapped. "Sweet Lord, why can my men never think logically?"
He looked up and carefully watched the roof, which was brightly illuminated from the spotlights. Nothing. If LeBeau had really been there, then…
Something clattered behind the building, and taking one of the rifles from his men, Klink 'bravely' walked towards the building's edge. "Schultz, with me! The others, stay here and observe the area. If one of the POWs has indeed decided to make a little late-night-trip, I want to be sure that he doesn't try to escape to one side while we're coming from the other one."
Well, his men were mostly aged or very, very young – and therefore they didn't mind their superior officer going first to face possible danger and ordering them to stay back. They all had known most of the POWs for long and until now none of them gave the guards too much trouble, at least compared to what they had heard from other Stalags. But there was a first time for everything, and none of the guards wanted to fall prey to the first real trouble within these wires.
Schultz gulped and stayed more or less behind Klink; knowing that he would be rebuked for it any moment, but…
They stepped around the building, and Klink saw a tiny figure cowering in the shadows – exactly in the blind spot the searchlights couldn't reach.
Schultz' eyes widened. "LeB..oooff!" He was cut off by his superior's elbow in his belly, while Klink began to laugh, before he loudly announced,
"Just have a look. Our guards are sounding the alarm because of a cat. My, my, if Burkhalter learns of this…" He shook his head.
"A cat?" Hans asked disbelievingly, then he caught Klink's sharp gaze as the Oberst turned around.
"Yes, a little cat – that's all."
LeBeau let go of the breath held and, for good measure, gave a good imitation of a cat's "meow".
Schultz began to laugh, too – far too loud and too stiff, but at least he finally got what was really going on and played along.
"CUT OFF THIS HELLISH NOISE!" Klink bellowed while he returned to the open compound. "It's only a cat! I didn't know that my men were mice, panicking because of a mouser."
Schultz looked back once and shot LeBeau a heated glare, while he hissed, "Look that you get lost, little cockroach, or we are all in deep water."
Louis, relieved that he hadn't been officially caught (which would have meant a few days in the cooler), rolled his eyes and grimaced. Even if Klink, Schultz and the Heroes were allies now, the big Bavarian still had to call him this horrid name. Krauts! It was always the same with them!
A moment later the alarm bell stopped and heavenly quiet spread through the camp.
"Finally!" Klink sighed. He got headaches from the shrill tones. Giving the rifle back to the soldier he had borrowed it from, he looked up at Schultz.
"Please don't stir up the whole camp again if the cat makes some more noises or strolls through the compound in the night. We all want a quiet night and we should find some rest." He wrapped his arms around himself again; shivering now.
"Guards, back to your positions. The men who are off watch: Back to your quarters. There is no need to freeze your butts off in this icy weather because of a cat. Good night, everyone." He walked with quick steps back towards his quarters, raced up the few steps to the entrance and vanished into the wooden building.
Locking the door behind him, the warmth of the furnace welcomed him – and a worried Robert Hogan.
"Who…?" he began.
"A lost cat – by the name of Louis LeBeau!" Klink groused and closed the distance to the furnace. "Dammit, it's cold outside. If your boys become lazy again this night, they can wait for someone else to save their asses." Trembling, he remained in front of the heater; rubbing his upper arms.
A moment later a solid body pressed along his backside, while two arms encircled him from behind – offering warmth and comfort. "Come here," Rob murmured and held the older man close to him. "We don't want you to relapse."
Wilhelm sighed and leant carefully against the younger man; remembering Robert's injuries. Lying his head back on Rob's shoulder and enjoying the embrace, he closed his eyes for a moment. A smile tugged at his lips as he felt his beloved's mouth press a soft kiss against his cheek.
"I want nothing more than to slip into bed with you and have my way with you there," he whispered. "But seeing that your men are setting up your equipment and that there will certainly be some call or the other as soon as the telephone line to my quarters is working again, I don't think we can do more than cuddle."
"Better than nothing," Robert murmured. "And I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow evening."
Klink felt his heart jump for a moment. "Be careful, my witty fox. I shall hold you to this promise."
"Good," was all Hogan whispered, before he lifted a hand, cupped Will's jaw softly, turned his face towards him and sealed the other man's lips with his own…
*** HH ***
The Heroes were busy the whole night. Newkirk had restored the telephone link to Klink's quarters around eleven o'clock in the evening and made a test-call during which he updated Hogan about the whole process 'downstairs'. At three o'clock in the morning they had rewired the bugs in Klink's office and the radio in the tunnels. The hidden telephone exchange station was functional again and a larger part of the energy-supply they branched from the camp's power generator was working again, too, which made the generator stutter a few times.
Three tunnel entrances had still to be re-opened and there was a problem with the entrance to Barracks 6, but the Heroes were back in business, so to say, and Kinch made the first test radio message to London at four o'clock in the morning; asking the communications officer in the Allied Headquarters to inform General Butler about important information he, Kinchloe, wanted to give him. They agreed on 1400 h for the radio transmission.
Afterwards the men fell into their beds like stones – exhausted, cold and more or less miserable. They even almost didn't wake up as Schultz shooed them out for the morning roll call, and as their very tired condition was recognized by a few guards, Kinch came up with the excuse that they were all fighting a cold.
Klink – wrapped in his warm coat – listened to the short exchange before the official report was made, realized the true reason for the Heroes' (and some other POWs') exhausted state and ordered them into their Barracks to be 'confined' to bed-rest to 'prevent' the cold from breaking out completely. The men were more than grateful and lay down after a spartan breakfast.
Contrary to the Heroes and their helpers, the two colonels had slept rather well – entangled with each other, warmed and sheltered by the thick comforter and content because of the other one's proximity and their new-found togetherness. Hogan felt the sting of a guilty conscience when he learned from Will in the later morning how tired Kinch and the others were and kept in mind to leave a commendation in their personal files the next time he spoke with London.
Kinch radioed General Butler precisely at 1400 h, while a very tired LeBeau returned from Klink's quarters after he had prepared lunch for the two officers. Of course the general was glad that the radio-silence to one of the most important Underground-cells was over, and he, personally, was relieved to learn that his protegee Robert Hogan was doing better. Then the talk changed to the important topic. Butler hid it, but Kinch heard the satisfaction in his voice as he learned about the two successful sabotages which had delayed the planned serial-production of the Messerschmitt ME 262, but he was mildly concerned as he was informed about the test-flight. There was no chance of intercepting further tests. It would be done during daylight and the Allies' combined air-forces attacked during the nights to hinder the German air-defense as much as possible. And, by the way, finding a single plane was like searching for the infamous needle in the haystack.
What woke Butler's full interest was the newest information Kinchloe could give him concerning the place of production. But as he heard about the many slave-workers there, grim disappointment sounded along his words. There was no way of attacking the hill without causing a massacre among the prisoners – a sacrifice Butler was not ready to allow. And he stated that he would take care that his fellow staff-officers among the Allies would see it the same way.
They ended the transmission and Kinchloe returned to the Barracks. Only a minute later he slipped into his bed and fell asleep instantly, despite Newkirk's nasty snoring.
*** HH ***
Yet the whole bundle of information that had reached London elicited a sort of aftermath-like response – not from the German side, but from the Allies. The details of the secret project were more than delicate and proved that the new source had to be an employee of the brass in Berlin or a high-ranking officer, who had access to the top secrets of the Nazis. And there was the big question: was the source indeed trustworthy or were they facing a foul game?
Evening roll call and dinner were over, as Kinch heard the incoming signal from below through the open 'bed-entrance'. Groaning, he climbed down and knew something was wrong as he was instantly linked to General Butler.
"Papa Bear, the whole nest demands some information about the fountain offering the water," Butler said.
Kinchloe groaned. He had feared something like this. "Goldilocks, Papa Bear insists that he will tell you in person as soon as he can," he said politely.
"And when will this be? You said that 'sun warms his fur', but is he still unable to reach his den?"
Kinchloe grimaced. Who had come up with talking in fairy-tales as a code? Ah yes, Robert Hogan – of course.
"Sir, some rats bit his paw, therefore he has problems climbing trees." He sighed. "Just tell the others that our source is really trustworthy. He is on our side, so…"
"He?" Butler interrupted him.
James cursed inwardly. He had almost forgotten how quick-thinking and intelligent Butler was. "Affirmative," he answered. "Our source is male."
"That information is top-secret, therefore he must have some very large ears which reach even Berlin. How does Papa Bear contact him if he has to stay out of his den at the moment? Do they meet on a regular basis?"
Kinch pressed his lips into a thin line. Dammit! Why did Butler have to be such a genius?
"Goldilocks, you already answered your own questions. Please wait until Papa Bear can speak with you. We…"
"We have to know the identity of the source! Too much depends on it. Tell Papa Bear to give us the name or be ready for a talk. We will send you a new blind bird in ten minutes!" Butler sounded stern suddenly.
Kinchloe moaned inwardly. In other words they had to bring Hogan down into the tunnels and London would radio them on a new frequency that was safe – relatively.
"Give us twenty minutes. Papa Bear has to put on his fur first and we've to help him climb."
"Understood," the general confirmed. "Twenty minutes then."
"Roger, Goldilocks. Papa Bear out." Kinch threw the headset on the table and cursed. Dammit! Hogan would be anything but happy about it.
Rising, he stepped to the 'ladder' and called upwards, "Newkirk, Carter, get down here! We've to help the colonel make a trip into our parlor!"
"What?" Peter appeared first. "But Klink is already in his quarters and the gov'nor…"
Kinchloe threw his hands up. "I can't change it. Butler insists on speaking with the colonel." He sighed. "I'm not worrying about Klink, after all, he belongs to our pack now. But bringing the colonel down here will be risky for him."
*** HH ***
The noises from the furnace in Klink's quarters hindered the two men from finishing their dinner. Throwing their napkins beside the plates, both men rose and stared, rather surprised, at Sergeant Kinchloe, who appeared from the hole; telling his superior about London's demand.
"They want him climbing down into the tunnels – in his condition?" Klink asked angrily. "Have they lost their minds?"
LeBeau, who had come out of the kitchen, crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I have to agree with Colonel Klink. Has London turned mad?"
Robert lifted a hand to calm them down. "They want certainty that our new source is really a source, not a trick from the Nazis. Given the actual status of the war, I can understand them."
Klink rolled his eyes, before he addressed Kinchloe. "Then you can tell them about me. If they want, I will speak with them and vow on my father's grave that I'm not playing a foul game. But Hogan really is unable to climb down a ladder and…"
"Will, I myself gave the order that only I will tell the brass about you. I've baked the cake, now I've to get it out of the oven. End of story."
"This isn't even a real idiom, Robert. This much I know," the Oberst snapped.
"But you understood it," Hogan grinned back. Sighing, he walked towards Kinch. "Okay, let us…"
"No!" Klink stopped him. "I won't let you down there."
"You will not let me go down there?" Rob asked, flabbergasted.
"You heard me."
Kinch braced his arms on the edge of the hole in the floor, placed his chin on them, exchanged a look with LeBeau and watched the two officers with rising amusement.
"Will, I'm still the leader of the operation and…"
"And still healing from torture and a bronchitis we don't want to return. You're barely able to walk properly and…"
"Don't exaggerate. I'm in far better condition by now," Hogan interrupted him.
"No, you are not. I'll not risk you relapsing only because of some damn brass – and I don't care if it is our brass or yours."
"Will…"
"And if were Roosevelt himself on the line, I would tell him to consider one of his most important officers' welfare if he wants him to continue this crazy mission!"
Kinchloe bit his lips trying not to laugh. The gestures, the gazes, the expressions… There was absolutely no doubt anymore that both men's relationship had changed greatly. They sounded like a long-married couple more than ever before.
"What's the matter up there?" Newkirk asked from below.
"Oh, nothing. Only a little quarrel between our colonels," James grinned; inwardly replacing the word 'colonels' with 'lovebirds'. "Did you know that they will soon have their silver wedding anniversary?" he joked, which earned him quiet laughter from downstairs and a big grin from LeBeau.
Hogan had placed his hands on his hips. "Will, they'll be certainly opening a frequency soon and…"
"They can even open Pandora's box, I do not care. You won't climb down in this icy dark hole, only…"
"Will, I have no other choice! If I don't convince the brass that my new source is trustworthy, they could decide to attack the Messerschmitt-facility in Thuringia, because they don't believe the detail about the slave workers as human shields there. Do you really want me and you to be responsible for the death of thousands?"
Klink stared at him – and threw his hands up in sheer frustration. "You and your damn arguments! Okay, I've to bow to the necessity. But if you climb down there, then at least put on something warm – especially your boots! And you are to have support on the ladder. It's either this or London can ring me by phone." He hesitated and glanced back at Kinchloe. "Is this possible?"
"A call from England to Germany would certainly be recognized by the Nazis, and…"
"I don't want to interrupt you, sirs, but we've ten minutes left until Butler calls again," Carter's voice sounded muffled from under the floor. "So, you should really hurry up, Colonel."
Hogan made a step towards Kinchloe, but stopped as Klink called out his given name with his voice full of warnings. The Oberst was absolutely serious. He wouldn't allow Robert to be exposed to the cold and unsafe ways of the tunnel net-system sans any protection.
Knowing this gaze by now, Hogan let his head bow down; surrendering. "You are impossible!" he groaned and limped as quickly as possible towards the sleeping room.
"This is the kettle calling the pot black," Klink replied nonchalantly.
An "Hmpf!" was the answer, followed by "Someone should lend me a hand."
"Peter, Andy, up here!" Kinch ordered with badly-hidden laughter, slid down by pressing his feet in his best fireman-style at the ladder's side, and made room for Newkirk and Carter, who instantly climbed up. He himself hurried back to the radio.
Swearing under his breath, Hogan slipped into his boots with Carter's help and put on his bomber jacket over the pajama. As he returned to the living room, Klink leant against the wall beside the secret entrance; arms folded in front of his chest. Pointing a finger at Carter and Newkirk, he said sternly, "You watch out for him! Make certain that he doesn't fall off the ladder, or you're going to face serious trouble with me."
LeBeau gaped at him, while Newkirk rolled his eyes. "For your notice, sir, Colonel Hogan is our friend. Of course we…"
"Why don't you come with us?" Hogan rose to speak.
Silence.
Silence and wide eyes from everyone. Grimacing, Hogan sighed, "Oh, come on, guys, Oberst Klink belongs to our bunch now. It's about time we show him more." He gestured for Newkirk to go first, and the Englishman obeyed instantly – helping Hogan down into the hole.
Klink, only wearing his shirt and his red house-coat again, followed immediately – curious but also concerned for Robert's safety. He had never been good at sports, but this time he managed to climb down at the side of the ladder while remaining beside the younger man to steady him. Carter went last and waved at LeBeau, who threw up his hands before he shoved the furnace back into place; cursing as he almost burnt his fingers.
"And what about dinner?" he asked, indignant; looking at the half-emptied plates. Sighing, he went to the kitchen to prepare some tea. There was no doubt that both colonels were going to need something warm to drink when they returned.
Downstairs, Robert shivered. It was cold in the tunnels and the thin silk and the bomber jacket weren't really a protection against the iciness. Yet he felt like coming home – at least a little bit. The tunnels were familiar, but also strange; just like it is when you come home from a long journey.
Beside him, Klink looked around with eyes as wide as saucers. If he was wearing his monocle instead of the interim-glasses, he would have certainly lost it.
He saw petroleum torches fastened at the walls or standing on shelves, which held so many different things he couldn't identify them so quickly in the semi darkness. There were power wires along the walls; small rooms which held equipment that was worth being mentioned in the Guinness Book of Records, because it was better and larger than what upstairs Stalag 13 officially held. He saw sewing machines, rolls of cloths, half-ended clothes, sheets of sewing patterns and hats. On another table there were hairdressing equipment, cameras and other utensils which were needed to run a photo lab. There were heaps of paper beside printing plates and ink-cans, and even if a blanket was spread over something beside the table, Klink was convinced that it was a kind of printing press. 'And there I asked myself how Hogan got his hands on phony money he gave the two SS-dudes last summer'.
They bypassed a room where he saw a telephone exchange station – the place where he and others had been tricked with fake calls. Other tunnels branched off in different directions, partly illuminated, and if Klink wasn't mistaken they led to the other Barracks.
This here was a warehouse for the most different products – and they all were needed for smuggling people away and running an espionage ring.
Wilhelm only shook his head. This all here had been done under his and his men's noses – and those of the Gestapo. If Hochstetter would have seen this, he certainly would have gotten a heart attack.
'Then we would have been rid of the poison-gnome sooner,' Klink thought with black humor, while he followed Hogan through the tunnels. He caught the younger man's gaze, and murmured, "This here is fantastic. You do realize that this place is worth being reported about in any of the whole world's newspapers?"
Robert grinned shortly. "Well, after the war I wouldn't mind. Until then no-one shall learn of us – or should keep his mouth shut. What could happen was clear to see last summer."
"Last summer?"
"Remember the article in the American newspaper Hochstetter got a hold of? It told about an espionage-ring in a POW-camp and…"
"… and the cantankerous screamer promptly suspected you." Klink nodded. "I remember." He laughed quietly. "Well, Hochstetter wasn't this mistaken, don't you agree?"
Hogan snickered. "No, but he better never learn of it."
Finally they stepped into a small room at the end of which another ladder was placed that brought very much to mind a slatted frame and led upstairs. There was a door to the left, a table and two chairs were in front of it and on the table… Klink whistled as he recognized the radio device with the equipment for wide range transmissions. He knew that this was Hogan's connection to London. "This is a – the best radio device of the Allies," he murmured. "Small, efficient, robust. As far as I know the first prototypes were produced in 1942." He glanced at Hogan. "Did you bring it with you somehow, or was it send to you?"
Robert, impressed by Klink's knowledge, flashed him a grin. "It was hidden in several packages of the Red Cross which were infiltrated by the Allies."
Will shook his head. "My, my, no-one ever thought to check this through." He snorted. "Another idea of yours, Fox?"
"No, from Bird Roc."
"Why do I have the feeling that this guy doesn't belong to Sindbad and the Orient?" Will deadpanned, while he felt almost overwhelmed. He could only slowly grasp what Robert and the others had gotten up here.
Kinchloe had lay down the headset and rose as the little group arrived; making room for Hogan, who gratefully sat down. Good God, his legs felt like lead, and this only after the fifty or sixty meters he'd walked.
Carter, seeing his friend and superior trembling, raced up the ladder that led to Barracks 2 to get a blanket.
Klink, being too thunderstruck and fascinated to feel the cold, looked down on his secret lover. "And you built this all up since you arrived here," he said quietly.
Robert smiled up to him. "We needed four months to install the most important things, but what you're seeing here is the result of constant expansion during the last two and a half years."
To say the truth, the Oberst was ready to sit down, and so he took the second chair on which he let himself fall. "And this whole secret command center," he made a wide gesture with his right hand, "was done without my men and I becoming aware of it." He shook his head. "Unbelievable." He whispered and closed his eyes.
Hogan became aware of the bewilderment on Will's face, and murmured softly, "We had a lot of help from outside, and we almost got caught a few times. Sometimes we got equipment from London that was smuggled into the camp, sometimes we used chances we were given to complete our tools."
Klink chuckled. "You mean, you stole it." He sighed and looked straight at the younger man. "What you were able to build here is almost too fantastic to believe."
Carter returned with the blanket he wrapped around Hogan's shoulder. "Thanks, Andrew," the colonel smiled at the youngest of his team.
The radio sprang alive and Kinch was quicker than Hogan at picking up the headset. With unbridled irritation in his voice he answered. "Ready, Bird Roc, Papa Bear is here – and is going to need a lot of sun and honey to recover from this trip you forced him to make! A big 'thank you' from all of us!"
Hogan gave his friend a short smirk, mouthed a 'Mother-hen' towards him and took the microphone and the headset. "Papa Bear to Bird Roc," he said; voice not so strong like it would usually be.
"Robert!" sounded Butler's voice through the tiny speakers in the receivers. "Thank the Lord, son! It's good to hear your voice."
"The frequency is safe?" Hogan asked carefully; surprised that Butler called him by his real name.
"Yes, it is. We use a new way of piggybacking to send clear messages. Even if the Germans detect the frequency, they'll only hear a song that is played in the front. Our voices are hidden."
"You piggybacked the frequency with a song?" Hogan had to snicker. "Perfect."
Klink rolled his eyes, before he chuckled quietly. It was always the same. Sometimes the one side then the other gained some technical advantages which were neutralized a few weeks later. Not for the first time he asked himself, how good life could be if all those aspirations would be used in a peaceful way.
Hogan still grinned. "A nice development, Alex. I only hope it was tested before we spoke here. I don't want to be the one who finds out that the whole technique still needs some modifications."
Butler laughed. "Don't worry, Robert. We've been radioing like this for quite a time now and it was first tested between London and Washington many times before we began to use it in the field. How are you, son? Your parents are mad with worry after they learned from me that you were arrested and injured by the Gestapo."
"I'm doing better, thanks. I'm still healing, but it isn't comparable with the first days anymore. Medic Wilson did a good job, as well as the German surgeon."
"That's good to hear." He sighed. "Robert, I know that you're still in no good condition – the reason why I'm ignoring your Sergeant Kinchloe's harsh comment. He is worried about you, just like I am. But we've to know more about your new source, and given the fact that you ordered your COP to keep silent about it, I've to ask you in person now. Who is it?"
Robert's gaze wandered to Will and as their eyes met, he winked at him. "It's the very same man in whose quarters I've been living since I was saved by him during the unfortunate assault of our air-forces. He later rescued me from the Gestapo." Hogan waited and slowly counted from one to three in his mind.
"One moment!" Butler stuttered. "Sergeant Kinchloe told me that you were saved both times from the German commander of your camp, and…" For a second there was silence, before the general burst, "Don't tell me your new source is this Klink!"
Robert exchanged an amused glance with Kinch, whose keen ears caught some of the words despite the fact that Hogan wore the headset. Then Robert's glance wandered back to his secret lover. "Yes, General, the source is our Kommandant Klink." With amusement he watched Wilhelm straighten his frame a little bit, while in the headset a gasp was heard.
"Hogan!" It sounded more than shocked and flabbergasted. "You… you said he's an idiot and that his stupidity is needed by you to fulfill your missions. And you're telling me that he is the one the Allies have been listened to for over a week now?"
Hogan sighed. "Alex, Klink has known about us for more than two years and covered for us." He heard the general moan. "He revealed himself to me over a week ago…" In the next minutes, the colonel told his superior and mentor how it came that Oberst Wilhelm Klink was not just their new source, but also their protector. He didn't reveal much about Klink's private reasons for fighting against the Nazis, but enough to make Butler understand that the German was sincere about his intentions.
After he ended, there was again some silence, before Butler answered slowly, "That your own jailer is in truth your supporter, is something I've to stomach – as well as the fact that it obviously slipped your attention that he not only was on your track, but also saw through your game."
"I hope that you're going to meet Klink after the war, Alex, and then you can understand that I really had no chance seeing through him in this case." He had to smile as he saw Klink growing an inch or two with pride. "He is a highly intelligent man who has learned to walk between the raindrops and to do so believably, because it was his only chance to survive." Both colonels still looked at each other; their eyes spoke a language no-one else could understand. "He had been forged, like I told you, during the first war, and follows the old codex of honor, but is forced to play along with the insanity that increases in the Third Reich day by day," Robert continued softly. "At least he pretends to do so, but fights the madness in his own way – in the background. He wasn't certain about my true identity until three weeks ago, and he revealed himself to me after I was a little bit more myself again. Since then he did what he did before: Covered for us. And even more. It was him who initiated the second sabotage yesterday and he supported us in many ways within the last two weeks. He also protected my men against the despotism of the Gestapo"
Butler grumbled something, before he asked, "You do know that this could be a trap – that he might be putting up a big show? It wouldn't be the first time that the Nazis try to place spies and saboteurs among our lines. Hell, they even sent saboteurs under false names to the US to blow up our weapon-facilities, but the FBI could stop them as one of them switched sides. Klink could be acting on orders from Berlin, inflicting not only yours, but also the whole Underground's demise. Do you really trust him?"
Robert's gaze became warm while he still looked at Will. "Yes, Alexander, I'm aware that this could be a trick, but it isn't. I know him too well, and I've seen and heard too much within the almost three years we've been stuck here together. Wilhelm Klink doesn't belong to the Nazis and he wants an end of the madness in his country and the entirety of Europe. He has proven over and over again that he is on our side and shielded us – not only since he revealed himself to me, but the whole two years prior. Without him, my men and I would have been dead for months now. So, yes, I trust him. I trust him with my life – and that of my team."
Klink's eyes brightened for a moment while a real smile spread over his suddenly flushed face. It betrayed the deep joy he felt at those words.
A deep sigh was audible on the other end of the line, followed by the dry statement, "Well, I don't need more as a guarantee. You're a distrusting man, Rob, and gaining your trust is a hard thing. If Klink managed it, then that tells me more than anything."
"Thanks, Alex. I want you to enlist him as one of our Underground-agents so that he is protected by the Allies should it come to the worst."
Again Butler took a deep breath. "Okay. What shall be his code-name? Another fairy-tale?"
"We better stick to it. If we chose a completely different kind of code-name the Gestapo could get the right idea that the new agent hasn't belonged to Papa Bear until now, and could spearhead new investigations."
"Do you have something special in mind?"
A smirk began to spread over Hogan's face. "What do you think about the Valiant Tailor?"
Klink stared, flabbergasted, at him. What shall be his code-name?
"Well, he has courage if he plays the Nazis like you say and is clever enough to even have fooled you," came the dry reply. "Okay. It's Valiant Taylor. Something else I have to note?"
"Yes, please also enlist Sergeant Hans Georg Schultz and Corporal Karl Langenscheidt as our supporters. Schultz has known about us even longer, and helped and covered for us in an active way. And Langenscheidt turns a blind eye here and there, too. I'm sure that he at least suspect us, but has never made a move to give us away. In his own way, he's on our side."
"Understood," Butler grumbled. "As it seems, you've the whole leading staff on your side by now."
"Na, only those three, but you really don't need more if you have Colonel Klink and the two others covering your back."
Butler sighed again. "Consider it done. Back to the topic that put the whole brass in uproar: The Messerschmitt-facility. Are you also absolutely sure that your German friend isn't overstating his estimation considering the whole slave-worker-matter at this mountain in Thuringia?"
"No, sir," Hogan answered, now businesslike again. "I often heard from other contacts how many people are forced to work for the Nazis. Hundreds – thousands of them are building Hitler's and the others' insane projects, and no-one cares if they live or die. And imagine how many men are needed to realize the project in Thuringia. And using these poor bastards as living shields is typical for these devils here. If we attack the hill, thousands of these kidnapped guys will die – and we'll gain no real success because the hill is made of solid stone our bombs will not be able to destroy."
"Dammit!" It was rare that Butler cursed, but now he did it. "Okay, then we've to check other options." He paused a moment. "Go back to bed, son and cure yourself," he changed the topic again; voice gentle now. "I hope that you'll be fit soon."
"Yeah, me too. The walls are closing up on me by now."
"Well, some forced time-out is not bad for you. I know you and your way of being antsy. Finding some rest will do wonders for you."
Hogan groaned. "You sound like Klink," he complained, and smirked as Will frowned at him.
"I don't know this man, but if he thinks the same about your hyper-activeness and your need for some rest like I do, then I already like him. And he also gained my sympathy, because quietening you down is certainly hard work."
The colonel grimaced. "You're not nice!" he pouted and received short laughter in reply.
"I'll contact your parents tomorrow. Shall I tell them something from you?"
This time, Robert's smile was wide and warm. "Yes. Please tell them that I love them and that they don't have to worry. I'm safe and sound here in camp, and I'm healing nicely thanks to my friends." He glanced at Klink and then at the others, before he turned serious again. "Have you heard anything about Jason?"
"The last I heard about your brother and his squadron, he'd been doing well. Flew some very successful attacks against the Japanese, and has his station in Pearl Harbor."
"If you have the chance, Alex, then please send him my love."
"This I'll do, Rob. Take care of yourself, son. And my regards to your men."
"Thanks. Oh, by the way, I want you to put a commendation into the files of the following men." He named the members of his closer circle, as well as Olsen, Wilson and those, of whom he knew that they had spent hard hours during the night to re-install everything; risking health and life while scurrying through the camp and re-opening the secret entrances. After all, it wasn't the first time they did it.
"They are really your boys, Robert. Even at night they don't give it a rest." Butler's smile was audible in his voice. "I'll take care that the commendations are noted in their files – just like yours. Take care, Rob. Good night."
"Good night, Alex. Papa Bear out!" Hogan closed the frequency and pulled off the headset. He met the beaming grins of his men and shrugged, "Well, you deserved a commendation, no doubt here."
"Yet we want to thank you, Colonel," Kinchloe smiled; burying his fist in the pockets of his jacket.
Glancing at Klink, Hogan continued, "I hope I didn't give away too much of your privacy, Will, but…"
Klink waved his right hand. "You told your superior what you have to tell him. It's not easy, convincing a staff-officer that someone, who was regarded as an enemy, is in reality an ally. And, by the way, you didn't mention real private matters, so no harm done." He gave him a tiny smile. "Thank you for your consideration, Rob."
The Heroes exchanged another pointed look with each other. There it was again: The incredible familiarity those two displayed to each other, and those warm gazes between them. And every one of them started to really acknowledge the kind of relationship both men had entered into.
*** HH ***
The two colonels returned quickly to the warmth of Klink's quarters. They were chilled to the bone, and were very grateful for LeBeau's tea that awaited them.
While sipping at the warm infusion, Klink watched his beloved, who sat tiredly at the other side of the table. He knew that Hogan had to be exhausted after the short, but tiresome trip, yet there was one thing he had to discuss with the younger man.
"The Valiant Tailor?"
Hogan, lost in thought, looked up, caught the way Will eyed him, and felt a smirk pulling at his lips. "Well, we all use fairytale characters as code-names, as you've certainly figured out by now."
"Yes, 'Papa Bear', 'Bird Roc'," Klink nodded; chuckling. To give an Air-Corps general of the high command the code-name 'Bird Roc' was really amusing.
"Yeah, just like this. Usually our code-names don't give anything specific that could bear evidence about the agent's identity away, but at least the gender is correct." He cocked his head. "And sometimes some names do have a deeper meaning – just like in your case."
"Except for the fact that the typical tailor is portrayed as a long, lanky guy, I really have nothing in common with this professional field."
"No, but with the fairytale character," Robert smiled and laughed quietly, as Wilhelm huffed in half-offense.
"Oh please, I don't kill seven flies with a flyswatter and boast that I've killed seven enemies afterwards."
Hogan snickered. "You've to see the metaphor in it. The Valiant Tailor doesn't fight his opponents openly, but he gains victory over them by tricking them. Take the episode with the giants, for example. He made them believe that he was stronger than they are by squeezing a stone so that he wrung out the water it still held – in truth he used some old cheese. Or he tricked the ill-willed guards of the king by spying on them and then making them believe he was clairvoyant because he knew about their intentions. He outsmarts his enemies instead of using violence – and this really fits you."
Klink had listened closely and cocked his head. His blue eyes shone softly. "And again you've given it a lot of thought before you chose a name – not a nick-name this time, but a code-name." He snorted gently. "Your profundity never ceases to surprise me, my witty fox."
"Ditto, phoenix," Robert smiled warmly.
And in the entrance to the kitchen stood LeBeau; arms crossed in front of his chest, lips pursed, exasperation but also amusement in his eyes. The two colonels seemed to have completely forgotten about him. And as he watched how absorbed they were with each other, he knew that the suspicions he had tried to ignore, were true. Those two were not only friends – they were more. Very much more. And LeBeau didn't know if he should bang his head against the door frame in amused frustration or laugh his head off, because one thing was for sure: Those two were the most uncommon couple in the whole of history.
*** HH ***
The two officers called an early end to the evening. Robert was tired like a puppy; the trip had cost him more than he was ready to admit. The moment he hit the mattress, he groaned in relief and as Will came out of the bathroom, the younger man was almost asleep.
Hogan sighed in content as he felt the long arms of his secret lover slipping around him, and, snuggling against the lanky body beside him, he entered Morpheus' Realm within minutes – his promise of making it up to Will for his help the evening prior was forgotten. And Klink didn't mind. He had watched with concern how much the way back through the tunnels had tired Robert out and that his always hyper-active troublemaker crawled early into bed of his own free will for once told him even more.
Smiling tenderly while pulling his beloved to him, Wilhelm relaxed. But contrary to Hogan he didn't find sleep easily. What had been revealed 'downstairs' to him, still roamed through his mind – and he knew that he hadn't seen everything yet. Rob had promised him to give him a proper 'sight-seeing tour' when he was fit again, yet what the Oberst had already seen was almost enough.
Hogan and his men had managed to build a little city downstairs – with electricity for air-conditioning, lights, radio and telephone, and many things more. They could produce phony money and had pressure plates for Reichsmark and Dollars. They tailored clothes for the men and women who had to leave Germany, made passports for them and took care that they were picked up by the Allies. Yes, Klink had known the latter, after all Robert had told him how it came that this Williams had been able to expose him and his men to Major Hegel – because the treacherous flyer fled during his transfer to London and contacted the Gestapo to take revenge on Hogan, which – thank the Lord – backfired. Yet the Kommandant was still thunderstruck at how enormous the equipment Robert and his men had installed to fulfill their missions was; how cleverly and well everything was thought through.
'Printing counterfeit money, making phony passports, smuggling away people, transferring secret information out of the land… Sweet Lord, every single deed would mean a death penalty for Rob. And he acts as if all this is the most usual thing of the world. He really has nerves of steel!'
Burying his face in the tousled shock of dark hair that rested on his shoulder, Will took a deep breath, relished in the familiar scent of the man he loved and closed his eyes; determined to protect those secrets even more than ever before. He had fought Hochstetter to keep his witty fox safe, he would also fight the devil to do the same.
He couldn't know that both would turn to be one and the same in the future.
TBC…
Well, that this all 'downstairs' has to be a kind of shock for our dear 'big shot' was to expect. And that he needs a time to stomach this all, is understandable, yet – like one of you readers mentioned in a comment – Hogan can call himself lucky that Klink is so much in love with him. What the Heroes built up beneath the camp, is enough to let the hardest Gestapo-officers faint before he hands down a death-penalty for everyone not one but a dozen times. That Klink is really on the Heroes' side is pure fortune…
The next chapter will be the beginning of another important event yet to come: Hochstetter's trial. And given the major's cleverness, his own statements and the fact that he got a real defense lawyer (and not the farce that was usual at those times), he is about to turn the wheel. Klink, Schultz, Schmidt and Burkhalter are summoned to the Court as witnesses, and Klink also can be in deep water because he attacked Hochstetter while freeing Hogan. In other words: New trouble is approaching – and there is nothing, Hogan could do this time.
I hope, you liked the new chapter and the way, Klink reacted to the tunnels, was to your liking. Like always, I'm dying of curiosity what you think about it.
Have a nice rest of Sunday and a good start into the next week,
Love
Yours Starflight
