Hi, my dear readers!

Thank you so much for the feedback. I knew that this part of the story would catch you and keep you on the edges of your seats. And this night in the camp is certainly the longest for all.

After Burkhalter and Hogan teamed up for once to get the assumed bastard who helped Hochstetter, the general, Schultz, Langenscheidt and the others are determined to get the 'man in the background'. So, be aware of a chapter full of action.

Have fun

Love

Yours Starflight

Chapter 65 – Caught red-handed

Schultz was waiting outside the infirmary as Burkhalter left the building, looking tired but also grim. "Corporal Langenscheidt informed me that you are going to need some guards to arrest the guy who supported Hochstetter."

Burkhalter rolled his eyes. "The rumors in this camp are flying quicker than our air fighters." He sighed. "Schultz, I have the statements of Hogan's men, and I do believe them. Yet I have to be sure before I try to find proof against another SS-officer who went rogue. Have you witnessed the disorderly behavior from von Neuhaus towards Oberst Klink Hogan's men told me about?"

The large Bavarian nodded. "Jawohl, Herr General. The first time was in January after the Kommandant got Colonel Hogan out of Hochstetter's clutches. He ordered me that no one should enter his quarters, but von Neuhaus didn't accept this order. He tricked me and entered the quarters without permission, and as the Kommandant reacted with irrational thought and told him to leave again, he became very angry and said several nasty things."

The general nodded slowly. "Newkirk said von Neuhaus even threatened Klink."

"Jawohl, Newkirk said the truth. And during the investigation of the Gestapo after the assault on the railway, von Neuhaus and Klink quarreled verbally again after he shoved Colonel Hogan, who was still injured. Then Oberleutnant Schmidt appeared and rebuked von Neuhaus, reminding him that he had to follow written law and not to pester wounded men. He also warned him that this kind of obsession was something that already brought Hochstetter to fall and then…Herr General, von Neuhaus looked at the young Schmidt and Klink as if he wanted to kill them. And that's not all. This evening von Neuhaus made it more than clear how much he disliked our Kommandant."

Albert cocked his head. "Were you there when he came? Why did he come at all?"

Schultz snorted without any amusement. "He brought a damaged radio transmitter, saying it was seized last Saturday during the SS' hunt of the Underground agents in the area. He asked the Herrn Oberst if our equipment is complete and also checked Colonel Hogan's reaction as he confronted him with the radio."

This elicited a deep frown from the general. "That detail of the whole issue was already investigated by Schmidt. Von Neuhaus had no reason to do it again."

The large Bavarian nodded. "Jawohl, I agree. I only thought he wanted to irritate Oberst Klink – or to show his own weight around. The Kommandant thought the same like I do: that von Neuhaus wanted to break the whole case from last weekend quicker than Schmidt maybe will and to kick him out of the office. Between him and Schmidt is a big rivalry, you know."

Burkhalter took a deep breath and pressed his lips into a thin line. "Yes, I'm aware of it. And this rivalry not only rose because the young man got the better job, but also the girl. Maybe this all here is one big plan for von Neuhaus to kill not only two, but four birds with one stone: supporting his former superior, getting revenge on Klink and Hogan, compromising young Schmidt, and hoping to win Fräulein Hilda for himself should Schmidt lose his rank."

Schultz frowned. "Compromising the Oberleutnant by smuggling Hochstetter into the camp? How?"

"The pistol Hochstetter used certainly comes from Gestapo HQ in Hammelburg. A missing gun stolen from the weapon store without being acknowledged will show Young Schmidt in a bad light. He could lose his rank because of such laziness, especially with such an outcome…and von Neuhaus knows this."

Gaping, Schultz murmured finally. "This would be very mean."

"But would fit to von Neuhaus' character like Hogan already pointed out. And I have to agree with our American troublemaker," Burkhalter growled before he straightened his shape. "All right, let us catch the big fish in the background. Get twenty of our guards armed with automatic pistols and rifles. We will drive to Hammelburg." He saw Langenscheidt walking over the compound and called him over.

Karl jogged quickly towards his two superiors and saluted. "At ease," Burkhalter said. "Corporal, I entrust you with an important task: to lure Hochstetter's supporter into a trap. I will drive with Schultz and twenty of our guards to Hammelburg. As soon as our men are in position, I'll radio you to contact Gestapo HQ. Pretend that an attempted assault took place a quarter hour ago, and that Hochstetter has been arrested before he could kill someone. By all means, tell them that Klink was injured and is in the infirmary so there is no suspicion risen why Klink didn't call himself. The Gestapo shall send someone over quickly not only for the necessary investigation, but also because Hochstetter is ready to give some statements in exchange for his life. I'm sure the man who supported Hochstetter will try to flee afterwards – and then we'll have him."

Schultz and Langenscheidt looked with big eyes at the staff officer. "That…is a super plan, Herr General." Karl whispered.

"Of course," Hans nodded. "Only a general can develop such a plan."

Burkhalter grimaced. "No, Hogan came up with this idea. And regrettably, I see no alternative. The plan is simple, but genial." He shook his head. "Damn Ami. Why is it always him who gets the ideas?"

'If you would know the truth, you would faint,' Schultz thought wryly. He shouldered his rifle. "I'll begin immediately with the preparations, Herr General."

"Yes, please." He glanced at Langenscheidt. "Go to the Kommandantur and wait there for my call. Everything depends on your acting skills."

"You can trust me, sir. I want to get this man as much as you and Sergeant Schultz," Karl said quietly, determination written on his face.

Burkhalter nodded. "Very well, Corporal. Do your best."

The three men departed. It was going to be a long night.

*** HH *** HH ***

Schmidt had dined with the Schneiders again and was now sitting in the kitchen that was cozy warm because of the stove. He had examined the letter carefully and had to admit that it wasn't a faked one, but indeed came from the recruiting center for the Volkssturm. He had called his former comrade in Bremen, who was luckily still on duty. No, the man had heard nothing about such a command to recruit women by force if they didn't report on their own free will. Therefore, something was very off with the letter, and Schmidt was determined to find out the truth. Maybe a call to General Burkhalter would prevent Hilda from being recruited until the real background of this document was revealed. Schmidt hadn't forgotten that the general was a personal friend of the Reichsführer.

And if this wouldn't help, there was still Hogan. If all else failed, he would speak with the colonel and beg him to bring Hilda, Manfred, and the Schneider couple to safety. Hell, he would surrender himself to the colonel as a POW if it would reassure him that his operation was safe and not threatened by Schmidt's assumptions, which would come true the moment Hogan would smuggle out Hilda and the others. Horst would do everything to keep Hilda out of danger. No matter what it would cost him – even becoming a POW in London or elsewhere.

But maybe it wouldn't come to this. Maybe a few investigations and a call to General Burkhalter would be enough to keep his beloved in Hammelburg.

"I'll take the letter with me," he said, while slipping into his coat. "I'm sure I can find out the truth behind this bad joke." He looked down at the young woman, who smiled bravely up at him.

"I knew I could count on you," she said softly, while wiping away a hair from the black material on his shoulder. Her eyes shone in the dim light of the petrol lamp that was the only illumination in the large hallway after the power supply was shut down for the nightly blackout by now.

"Always," he whispered, lifted a hand, and let his fingertips glide gently over her cheek. "I will not allow that you're sent to the front. Never."

Hilda felt her heart beat quickening up as she saw the determination, but also hidden love in his blue eyes. Sweet Lord, she only had known him for not even two months now, and she felt drawn to him like a moth to flames. He wore the wrong uniform, but he was an honorable and decent man she could imagine having at her side forever. And it was sweet how fierce he wanted to protect her. It was him who would need help when the war was over, and the Allies took over. Yes, Robert had promised her that he would support Schmidt, and she would take him up on it, yet maybe her own influence would be necessary to spare Horst the worst. No one, not even Hogan, knew about her true task and her connection to London. She would demand that Horst remained free. A small payment for everything she and the others had done within the last two years.

But this was something Horst – and also Robert – would only learn about after the war. Until then, she had to remain the 'vulnerable' woman who needed protection. And, to say the truth, a man ensnared in such a sweet and loveable way like Horst did it, touched her more than everything else.

Lifting herself up on the tips of her toes, she pressed a peck on his cheek, only to feel his arms slipping around her and holding her close to him. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then their eyes locked, lost in each other.

Schmidt felt like the whole world had come to halt as he bent down slowly and captured those soft, full lips with his mouth, warm fire streaming through his veins as Hilda snuggled closer to him, returning the kiss gently.

Someone cleared his throat, and as Horst quickly looked up, he saw Herr Schneider standing in the threshold of the kitchen. Schmidt was 28 years old, and he had seen and survived more than a young man of his age should. But right now he blushed like a school boy, while Hilda began to giggle and buried her face into his shoulder.

"Young man, I hope you're serious concerning my daughter," Herr Schneider said firmly, but not unkind.

Hilda groaned. Her father really was from the old schooling and looked over her shoulder while Schmidt answered, "I am, Herr Schneider. Be sure of it."

"Then maybe you two should begin with having a nice dinner somewhere," the older man grumbled.

"I'm already working on it. You have no clue how complicated it is to find a restaurant that is still open." Schmidt sighed and tightened his arms around the slender body in his arms as Hilda chuckled even more. God, how much he loved that sound.

Herr Schneider wasn't against the increasing relationship between his daughter and the Oberleutnant. The young man was at least decent, but how quickly the 'young people from today' were with kissing was something he had to get used to.

"Then I suggest you find one and take her out for a date before you…"

"Let them be." Frau Schneider appeared beside her husband and smiled at her daughter and Schmidt. "There is not much room left to find some light within those dark times, and if two young people develop feelings for each other, I'm happy for them. Especially when it concerns my daughter." She nodded kindly at Schmidt and pulled her husband with her back into the kitchen.

Hilda looked up at Horst. "Sorry, but my father…"

"Is an honorable gentlemen of the old school. Nothing wrong with it." He kissed her forehead. "But he doesn't have to fear that I'm only playing. I AM serious about you."

The young woman's heart leaped. Jesus, he really had caught her good. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I'll try to come over after duty. As soon as I know more about this absurd letter, I'll call you. Maybe you should inform Oberst Klink about this mess. I'm sure he could help, too. Maybe by contacting General Burkhalter. The general is a good friend of Himmler, and the Reichsführer has the last word within the SS."

Hilda sighed. "To say the truth, I don't want to depend on the Reichsführer, but…" She shrugged.

Giving her a last kiss, he let go of her and went to the front door. "I'll try to save the situation without the general and his connections." He glanced back over his shoulder. "Goodnight, sweetheart. And don't worry; I'll get you out of this one way or another." He winked at her and left.

A minute later, he was on his way back to Hammelburg. For a moment, the thought about making a detour to Stalag 13 came to his mind. But assuring himself that everything was okay, he dismissed the idea. Klink was capable enough to keep his camp and himself safe. No doubt about it.

He couldn't know how wrong he was and what happened in the POW camp four hours ago. He steered his car through the wintery darkness, unaware of the mess that awaited for him at Headquarters.

*** HH *** HH ***

"Herr Leutnant, I have Stalag 13 on the line for you, priority one. They say there was an assault they have to report." The young man from the telephone exchange sounded concerned as he called his superior who was still in his office, waiting for this exact phone call.

"An assault? From whom?" von Neuhaus faked not knowing, inwardly triumphing. That the camp called the Gestapo because of the assault could only mean one thing: Hochstetter had been successful.

"I have no clue, Herr Leutnant. I have a Corporal Langenscheidt on the phone who demands to speak to the officer on duty. They need help in the camp."

"Put him through," the Leutnant ordered, smiling inwardly. Of course, they would need help. With Klink dead, and the damn American certainly, too, pure chaos had to have erupted within the camp. And the fool Schultz and naïve Langenscheidt wouldn't be able to handle the situation. At least they followed protocol to alert the Gestapo after such an incident.

It was a good thing that Schmidt hadn't returned until now and was still with his sweetheart. Like this he, von Neuhaus, would make certain that the damn whelp was partly to blame for what happened in Stalag 13, and he forgot his duty in many ways. When Schmidt returned, he would get a nasty surprise. And he would manage everything in the meantime to Burkhalter's full satisfaction. He knew that the general would soon be involved, too. After all, Stalag 13 was a Luftwaffe POW camp.

The line clicked before he heard the vaguely familiar voice of the corporal. "Oberleutnant Schmidt, is that you?"

"No, Corporal, it's me: Leutnant von Neuhaus. I regret, but Oberleutnant Schmidt isn't in HQ at the moment. I was informed that there was an assault at the camp? What happened? Were people hurt?" His voice sounded perfectly urgent, but also calm.

"Yes, Herr Leutnant. Something terrible happened." The corporal sounded distraught. "Somehow the former Major Hochstetter escaped his working camp and intruded Stalag 13. He tried to kill Oberst Klink, who luckily was only grazed with the bullet, yet the Kommandant is in the infirmary and getting medical treatment. Our guards secured the former major, and he's in the cooler now. He wants to give some statements how he escaped and how he was able to intrude our camp in exchange for a lesser punishment. With Oberst Klink in the infirmary and no other officer here, we…well, this is all definitely not Sergeant Schultz's or my league. He ordered me to call you and asked you to send someone over to interview Hochstetter and start the investigation."

Von Neuhaus couldn't trust his ears. Hochstetter had failed? And was about to blow the whistle? No, he couldn't imagine this.

Taking a deep breath to calm his rising nerves, the Leutnant asked, "Hochstetter intruded the camp, and Oberst Klink was injured? How is the Kommandant? And what about the former major's statement?"

"Hochstetter agreed to make declarations if he doesn't have to face the death penalty. He got help from someone…or more people in Hammelburg. He hinted something like that."

Von Neuhaus felt his mouth going dry and balled his free hand into a fist, but stayed silent while Langenscheidt continued.

"Like I said, he is locked up in the cooler now. But I have to admit Sergeant Schultz and I don't know how to proceed. The Kommandant lost consciousness after he was brought into the infirmary, and we can't reach General Burkhalter. He is still in Nürnberg and unavailable in a meeting with the Reichsführer and the Reichsmarschall, as well as several other generals." The corporal sounded forlorn. "Could you please send someone over to us so that…"

Von Neuhaus' mouth had gone dry, while his belly clenched. Yet he was trained enough to play along. "Of course, Corporal, don't worry. This is a very serious issue. I'm on my way. It will last half an hour or more. First, I have to reach Oberleutnant Schmidt. He has to learn of the happenings, too. Secure the cooler and take care of your superior. Everything else, leave it to me. What about the POWs? Any problems with them?"

"No, they were all in their Barracks as the horrible assault happened, and they are all restricted to their huts now."

So, Hochstetter also didn't manage to kill Hogan. Otherwise the corporal would have said something about it now.

"Very good, Corporal. Just remain calm, and I'll be there as soon as possible." He placed the receiver back on the phone and needed a moment to collect himself. Everything went wrong – a failure along the line. And Hochstetter was ready to give him, von Neuhaus, away in exchange for his own life. So much for sacrificing himself for a higher purpose. The damn coward. A traitor!

Von Neuhaus knew what this meant: his own downfall. He had helped a wanted man to kill a Luftwaffe officer, and this was about to be revealed. Even if said Luftwaffe officer survived, from now on, he was on the run. There was no excuse for what he did. He had staked everything on one card and had lost. Lost because of a man he had thought to be his friend.

Cursing, he rose, slipped into his coat, holstered his pistol, looked one last time around in his office, and left. He went to his dorm and packed a few private belongings he had. Especially civilian clothing. He would need them soon to disappear. But for now, he needed his uniform to pass some of the road blocks the Gestapo and SS had risen all over the larger country roads and highways.

A few minutes later, he left the HQ with a small luggage in his right hand. "I'm on my way to Stalag 13," he said to one of the guards in front of the building, which secured it. "There was a serious accident. When Schmidt returns, tell him it will late when I return."

The man saluted. "Jawohl, Herr Leutnant."

Nodding at the man, von Neuhaus walked with long steps to the motor pool, put the luggage on the backseat, and slipped behind the wheel of his staff car. Only a few hours ago he had picked up Hochstetter and smuggled him into the POW camp within this car. And was the former major's 'thank you' for it: he betrayed him.

'My friend, Stephan – my ass. I should have known it better. There is no comrade and friendship within the SS. It's my own fault that I was this naïve!'

For another moment, he had to collect himself again. All his hopes and plans for the future had burst like a bubble. He would never be in charge of this HQ here, he wouldn't win Hilda, and he wouldn't get the honor he deserved for serving the Fatherland like he did. All because of Hochstetter's betrayal and failure. If the arrogant fool Klink were dead – or the nuisance Hogan, then at least something would have been gained by the whole mess. But now…

He started the motor and steered the car out of the parking lot. The nearest border was the Austrian one. The Allies hadn't made so much progress in conquering Germany to reach South Bavaria and therefore the Austrian border until now. He would try to reach Austria, then from there to Switzerland.

Driving down the street, he stopped at the next cross road. For a second, he looked to the left, to the south, where he would drive should he had really wanted to go to Stalag 13. He turned the wheel to the right to drive north and catch the highway that was a few kilometers away, unaware of the many hidden eyes watching him.

*** HH ***

"Herr General, Corporal Langenscheidt reported that he made the call to Gestapo HQ. He had Leutnant von Neuhaus on the line. Oberleutnant Schmidt isn't in Headquarters at the moment." Schultz had cowered down beside General Burkhalter, who had taken up position in the front yard of a house near HQ, hidden by a snowy hedge. The house' occupants had been ordered to stay inside and away from the windows. An icy wind blew from the near-by river Fränkische Saale.

"How was the Leutnant's reaction?"

"Langenscheidt told me that the Leutnant sounded tensed, but promised to come over to the camp himself. He asked for the Kommandant's condition, if the POWs were in control, and he wanted to have further details about Hochstetter's alleged willingness to make some declarations."

A grim smile appeared on Burkhalter's face. "Hogan was right. I bet that von Neuhaus won't drive towards Stalag 13." He glanced at the sergeant. "Have all men taken their positions?"

"Ja, Herr General. On each main street, four of our guards are deployed, two are watching the Gestapo motor pool, and the rest are here for your disposition."

Burkhalter nodded slowly before they waited a few minutes, kneeling in the snow in the middle of the dark both freezing and furious. Then Schultz's handie-talkie sprang alive. "Schultz here," he whispered.

"Sergeant, Leutnant von Neuhaus just left the building and is going to the motor pool," another voice murmured. "I can't see much because of the switched off street lamps, but in the light of the HQ, I can see that he's carrying a small suitcase… He put it on the backseat and manned the car. He's sitting down… Now he's starting the motor."

"Very good, Hansen. Remain where you are until you're contacted. Sergeant Schultz out." He glanced at Burkhalter, who gestured that he had understood everything. They watched in the dim light of HQ that was mirrored by the snow how the SS staff car bypassed their hideout on the street. As quickly as both corpulent men were able, they left their spying spot, walked to the garden door, and peeked around the hedge. They saw how the car retarded at the next crossroad, and Burkhalter took a deep breath.

"Now we'll see if he really is Hochstetter's helper or if..." He stopped as the car turned to the north. Not to the south where the camp was located.

"Damn bastard!" Burkhalter spat, and looked at Schultz, who lifted the handie-talkie, while both men began to run.

"Vossmann. Greindl. He's coming your way. Stop him at any cost!"

Never before Burkhalter had heard the usually far too kind Bavarian speaking with so much fierce anger, while he hastened beside him towards his own staff car that was parked in the side street a few meters away.

"Guards, with me!" The general shouted, while Schultz spoke again into the wireless vision of a telephone.

"All guards to the northwest main road. The suspect is there."

From the other side of the street, the two SS guards in front of Gestapo Headquarters became aware of a few men in Luftwaffe uniform running down the street – including a man which they recognized as General Burkhalter.

"Herr General, what's the matter?"

"Are you in need for support?"

Both men called in unit.

Burkhalter had no time for them. Slipping into the back seat of his staff car, his driver started the motor the same moment Schultz took the passenger seat, rifle ready to use.

"Schnell, back on the road, and take the next turn to the right," Burkhalter ordered, and his driver kicked the gas pedal. As they entered the street where the Gestapo HQ was located, they already saw the camp's truck racing ahead of them, while from two sides more Luftwaffe guards were coming, all ready with guns and determination on their faces as they ran into the direction von Neuhaus drove off.

Yes, those who had served for longer in the camp had their problems with Klink. And those who were from the Volkssturm didn't know the Kommandant well. But Klink was their commanding officer, and he had been cowardly assaulted and gravely injured. This was something none of them could tolerate. They all had experienced how bad it could be in the camp if Klink wasn't in charge, but a true Nazi. They all wanted to avenge their CO, who treated them at least politely and with something close to understanding.

"There he is!" Schultz snarled, as they bent into the road that led to the highway and saw the SS staff car standing square on the street, driver door open. And in front of it was von Neuhaus struggling with some Luftwaffe members.

*** HH ***

Von Neuhaus breathed deeply as he speeded up his car along the road that would take him out of Hammelburg. He would reach the highway within ten minutes and then…

He sharply stepped on the brake, as out from no where, two soldiers with steel helmets appeared on the street. He managed to stop the car despite the icy road with some effort and cursed wildly, thinking the men to be drunk. Then he saw that they aimed their guns at him.

His eyes were about to bulge out of his head, then he became aware of movements to his left and right. Two further guards closed up on his car, rifles aiming at him.

"Leutnant von Neuhaus, this is Corporal Greindl. Put your hands on the wheel, and don't move!" one of the Luftwaffe members barked. A man he had once seen in Stalag 13. The famous scales slipped from his eyes. He had been tricked and fallen into a trap. They had lured him away from HQ and waited for him to…

Becoming icily calm, he laid the hands on the wheel like told and waited until one of the guards opened the driver door.

"Corporal, I don't know what you're up to, but I'm on my way to your camp. I was called and told that an assault happened, and…"

"You chose the wrong direction, Herr Leutnant. Stalag 13 lays in the south." The man snapped, bent down, and roughly pulled him out. "Hands up, and don't move any further! I would love to shoot you for your betrayal that almost costed our Kommandant's life!"

"I don't know of what you're talking," von Neuhaus began, as he heard motor noises coming nearer. Looking down the street, he saw the truck from Stalag 13 heading towards him and the others. And behind it was another staff car rounding the corner…a grey one with a double axe…General Burkhalter.

The general hadn't been 'unavailable', but already here in Hammelburg. The assault must have happened hours ago, and the staff of the POW camp had enough time to lay out a trap. And he, von Neuhaus, had sat in HQ like a lame duck, convinced that he would be the big winner of tonight. Instead of it, he was the one who was about to lose everything.

Seeing that the guards were shortly distracted by the arrival of the others, he pulled out his pistol, but the Luftwaffe private was on alert. The next moment his weapon hand was gripped. While he wrestled with the man, the others came to their comrade's aid. Within seconds, the Leutnant was secured in steel like grips between them, robbed of any chance to escape.

Burkhalter left the staff car while other guards jumped down from the load bed of the truck, guns ready. Four of them flanked the general and a second large figure in which von Neuhaus recognized Schultz. For once, the sergeant didn't look like a kind-hearted fool, but a military soldier with determined wrath. Maybe a few details about Hochstetter's assault weren't faked, and Klink had been eliminated. The fury on everyone's face spoke its own language.

"Leutnant von Neuhaus," General Burkhalter said, while heading towards the captured Gestapo- and SS-officer. "It's really late to be away from HQ and your dorm."

Von Neuhaus took a deep breath, staking anything on one card again. Maybe he could turn the table by playing the misunderstood one. "General Burkhalter, I was called by Corporal Langenscheidt who told me about an assault in Stalag 13. I was on my way to the camp to…"

"Then you definitely took the wrong direction. Stalag 13 lays that way," the staff officer sneered, flicking a thumb backwards over his shoulder.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but given the bad condition of the street and the similar condition of my tires, I wanted to use another main road to…"

"NONSENSE!" Burkhalter thundered, eyes narrowed to small slits. "You tried to escape after you learned Hochstetter's shameful attempt of murder failed and he would give you away as his supporter, who…"

He stopped, as all of sudden, many guards whirled around and rose their rifles, aiming at a car that stopped behind the general's vehicle. Turning around, Albert recognized another SS staff car.

"Guards, lower your weapons," Burkhalter ordered strongly, as he saw who left the car. "Oberleutnant Schmidt, you came just in time."

Schmidt had entered the street in which the Gestapo-HQ (that had been the court-building before war) was located and saw a familiar staff car with a double axe leaving the road ahead of him, while several Luftwaffe soldiers stormed down the pavements to follow the vehicle, guns ready to use. And at the same moment, a hand full of black clad guards were leaving Headquarters and also hurrying down the street, following the Luftwaffe members.

Knowing instantly that something had to be terribly wrong, Horst bypassed them and followed Burkhalter's car and Stalag 13's truck into the next street. It was clear that the Luftwaffe members were after someone, and the SS was coming to their aid. He stepped on the brake as he saw the pile up of Burkhalter's car, the truck, and another car only a few meters ahead of him. Confused, he watched the general's massive figure stand in front of a man Schmidt recognized as von Neuhaus, who was held by two soldiers, while others trained their guns at him – fury written all over their faces.

Assuming the worst, Horst parked his car behind Burkhalter's and left it. That the Luftwaffe guards instantly aimed at him didn't wonder him. His and Burkhalter's eyes met, and a few seconds later, the general ordered his guards to lower their weapons.

Schmidt's attention was shortly driven towards Schultz, and he frowned as he saw the hard and angry expression on the usually so kind, round face. What on earth…Schultz was here with Burkhalter. With them were guards from the Luftwaffe. The only members of this unit within this area were in Stalag 13 and…and a very bad assumption awoke in the young man.

Saluting properly, he said quietly, "Good evening, Herr General. What happened?"

"This is a question I want an answer for, too," von Neuhaus spoke up. "I'm suspected of…"

To everyone's surprise, Schultz whirled around towards him and shouted, "Shut up, you damn bastard, or I will show you how in Bavaria we handle such a rotten object like you!"

Burkhalter couldn't help himself. Internally, he applauded Schultz, yet his attention stayed fixed on Schmidt. "Herr Oberleutnant," he greeted shortly, while the SS-guards entered the street, jogging towards them. "An assault took place in Stalag 13 tonight. Colonel Klink is badly injured and…"

"Hochstetter? Was it him...He's already here?" Schmidt almost shouted in shock.

Albert cocked his head. "Yes, he is. I heard that you got a warning from Munich concerning his escape?"

"Yes, I got an official warning earlier tonight of his escape from a camp near Munich," Horst explained, his mind ran a thousand miles per hour as he began to guess what happened in the POW camp. "I called Oberst Klink to warn him should Hochstetter use his regained freedom not to flee, but to search revenge. After his reactions at the trial, I feared he would choose the latter, and Oberst Klink saw it likewise. But we both didn't think that he would make it to Hammelburg this quickly, and…"

The SS-guards reached them, and one of them called for Schmidt, asking if he needed support. The Oberleutnant lifted a hand and shouted, "Stop everyone! Stay back, but be ready for further orders!" Only then he turned back to Burkhalter, shaken with what he just heard. "So, the assault was done by Hochstetter?" He looked from the general to Schultz, who only nodded slowly with a half furious, half sad face.

Burkhalter took a deep breath. Of course, the young man had taken his duty serious and called Klink, even if it had been for naught. It was simply Schmidt's way to consider every possibility and acting on it. "Yes, it was Hochstetter who attacked Klink."

Schmidt paled dramatically. "And…Oberst Klink is hurt?" He asked hoarsely in deep worry. He liked the older man, and the mere thought that the officer being wounded because of this madman awoke dread in him.

"A stomach shot from a short distance. The doctors had to perform an emergency surgery on him in the camp, and they still don't know if he'll survive," Burkhalter revealed, and watched how Schmidt closed his eyes in gentle anguish. As it seemed, Klink had found a true friend in the Oberleutnant. "Hochstetter attacked him in his quarters," the general continued. "The former major was able to move through the camp because he wore a Luftwaffe uniform he exchanged against the SS uniform he stole from a sergeant in the camp he was sentenced to – killing the man for it. We still don't know how he managed to close the distance between the camp and Hammelburg within this short range of time, but we do know who helped him get into Stalag 13." He turned slowly around to von Neuhaus, whose expression was blank. "You smuggled him into camp."

The Leutnant stared at him, his face showing faced bafflement. "I did what? I don't know how you came up with this idea, Herr General, but…"

"You visited Stalag 13 only half an hour before Hochstetter tried to kill first Klink and then Colonel Hogan. You used a false pretense for it by presenting Klink the damaged radio transmitter your men seized last Sunday. In the meantime…"

"You stole secured evidence of the Gestapo?" Schmidt asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

"I investigated in this case, Herr Oberleutnant, and…" Von Neuhaus was interrupted by his direct superior.

"The investigation is led by me, and you had no right to intrude our property chamber and purloin one of the seized evidences which maybe still useable. Investigations within another military facility has to be legitimated by the leading CO of the responsible Gestapo Headquarters, and I can't remember that you spoke with me about this task or that I gave you any permission to make your own investigations on this case. You overstepped your authority!"

"At least I tried to solve the whole riddle, while you had nothing better to do than visit your sweet…" Von Neuhaus was interrupted by one of the guards.

"Herr General, have a look at this!" The man had opened the trunk of von Neuhaus' staff car and made room for Burkhalter, as he together with Schmidt and Schultz stepped beside him. There lay a rifle, and as the guard bent down to get it, the general quickly stopped him. "Don't touch it. I'm certain that it holds Hochstetter's fingerprints and those of the poor bastard he killed at M1." He glanced at Schmidt. "The killed sergeant had a rifle, but Klink was attacked with a Walther PPK pistol that I have with me. I'm sure when we compare the gun numbers of the rifle and the pistol, you'll find out that the hand gun is from your weapon chamber, while this rifle was used by the dead sergeant in M1."

Schmidt glanced horrified at him. "This would mean that von Neuhaus…"

"… gave Hochstetter the pistol and used his visit in Stalag 13 to smuggle the former major into the camp. Colonel Hogan suspected this and brought me on the right track." He directed his attention at Schultz. "The guards, which watched the Gestapo HQ, said von Neuhaus had a luggage with him. Check it."

Schultz nodded, opened the door of the backseat, and saw the small suitcase. Bending inside, he opened it, pressed his lips into a thin line, and cursed before he straightened his shape, ignoring the murderous glances of the Leutnant.

"Civil clothes and bath utensils, Herr General."

Schmidt closed the small distance to him and also looked into the luggage. "I know these clothes. They belong to the Leutnant."

General Burkhalter gave von Neuhaus a heated, furious glare. "After you received the faked call from Stalag 13 and bought the story that Hochstetter wants to reveal the identity of his partner-in-crime in exchange for his life, you knew that the game you played was over and wanted to abscond. Therefore, your private belongings in the suitcase you took with you and took a street that leads into the opposite direction of the camp's location. I'm sure we will find more proof within Headquarters and when this rifle is identified."

Von Neuhaus only stared at him, hate in his eyes.

Schmidt felt strong disgust and deep anger awakening in him. "You made common cause with Hochstetter, even if you knew that he wanted to kill Oberst Klink and certainly Colonel Hogan, too? I don't know why, but one thing is for sure: your dirty game is over." He straightened his shape. "Leutnant von Neuhaus, you are under arrest for murder of a SS-sergeant, conspiring with a wanted criminal, complicity in attempted murder of a Luftwaffe-officer, and tampering of Gestapo property and seized evidence." He raised his voice. "Guards, take Leutnant von Neuhaus with you back to Gestapo Headquarters. Handcuff him, and bring him into my office. Every further investigation will be done there." He turned back to Burkhalter. "Please accompany us, Herr General. You too, Sergeant Schultz. You are indirectly involved and…"

"I beg your pardon, young friend, but Sergeant Schultz was directly involved," Burkhalter corrected the facts. "He was present as von Neuhaus visited Klink, and it was him who gained access in the very last moment to Klink's quarters and prevented Hochstetter from murdering Colonel Hogan, witnessing the former major's reactions afterwards first hand. I'm sure he can give you and everyone else more information about earlier tonight."

Usually, Schultz didn't feel well to be in the focus of interest – especially in such a case. But not this time. He had loathed the Leutnant from the beginning, and he had despised Hochstetter. The latter had shot down his superior and friend, and von Neuhaus had formed the basis for it. If he could make certain that both bastards would get what they deserved, he would do it.

Schmidt glanced at him and nodded. "That would be great. A crime like this has to be elucidated and punished." He watched how two of his guards handcuffed von Neuhaus and felt a hue of satisfaction rising in him before he addressed the general and Schultz again. "Please come with me. And maybe you can provide me with some more details of Oberst Klink's condition."

*** HH *** HH ***

It was almost eerily silent in the infirmary of Stalag 13. Knowing that his friends would be in trouble if they remained out of their Barracks for any longer, Hogan had ordered them to return to their shared hut to find some sleep; asking Kinchloe to contact London and to tell what happened here – that they needed penicillin and painkillers yesterday. Yes, it wasn't clear if Klink made it, but Robert didn't give up on faith. Will would need the medicine soon, of this he was convinced.

While the others left reluctantly, Hogan remained in the infirmary – with Wilhelm.

"Burkhalter will give you an ear full if you don't obey his direct order," Kinch had warned him, but Hogan had waved it off.

"I'll let Dr. Birkhorn check me through and afterwards…" he shrugged, knowing that the minor bruises he got could be a little alibi for his stay in the sickbay.

After the others had gone, Robert sat down beside Klink's bed again. He was still and silent like a statue. Now, almost an hour later, Dr. Birkhorn returned from the short break he took, sent the last of the men that had donated blood off, and saw the stiff posture of the American as he stepped back behind the folding screen.

"Are you hurt?" he asked quietly, while checking Klink's vital signs.

"Nothing bad," Hogan murmured. "My back aches where Hochstetter hit me with the damn table leg, but that's all."

The surgeon frowned and directed his attention to him. "He hit you with… Strip off your jacket and shirt, please."

Hogan rolled his eyes, but obeyed. After all, the little examination could spare him trouble with Burkhalter later.

Dr. Birkhorn took a sharp breath and stepped towards the colonel. Square over the barely healed scars were two long, deep red and purple turning stripes that certainly would bloom into all colors of the rainbow within the next few days. Thank the Lord the skin hadn't been split open, yet this all had to hurt like hell. Carefully, he propped up Hogan's back, who swore softly beneath his breath before the surgeon turned him around gently to face him.

"This will give you trouble within the next one or two weeks, but there is nothing I could do to help you. Try not lay on your back, and cool the bruises. There is no other treatment for it."

Hogan nodded slowly while he put on his shirt again. "Okay," he murmured, while his gaze wandered back to Klink. "How is he?"

"Still unconscious, but I don't know if he's still sedated or in coma. His pulse his low, but steady. A good sign, but otherwise…" He shook his head and glanced back at Hogan, whose face betrayed deep anguish. Looking around the folding screen, he saw that the last of the men had left the infirmary, and another glance proved that the door to the next room, where his colleague and the two nurses rested, was closed. Only then he asked softly, "You two have become good friends, haven't you?"

Robert nodded hesitantly. "Yes, we have." His glance wandered down to his secret lover. Will was so pale, so silent, so… vulnerable. "It… it hurts to see him like this," he whispered.

Dr. Birkhorn took another deep breath. He had seen the way Klink reacted as he learned of Hogan being arrested and in the clutches of a sadist. He had witnessed how strong the traumatized colonel had reacted to Klink's presence in the first day after his rescue, and he had become aware of the Oberst's strong sense of protection concerning his senior POW officer. He had realized that despite official enmity, demanded behavior, and this damn war, fate hadn't been able to stop these two men from becoming friends. And only a few hours ago he had seen the sheer despair on Hogan's face shortly before the surgery took place and the deep fear afterwards. Even now, the man radiated with dread and fear for his German counterpart.

If he didn't know about Hogan's reputation of being a Casanova, and the same went for Klink, then he would assume those two of being more than simply friends. Hogan's whole behavior spoke of strong feelings he held for the older man, and the same had gone for Klink as he left the hospital with the power of an avenging angle despite his injuries and flu.

Dr. Birkhorn wasn't naïve. He knew that relationships between men not only existed, but often were based on true feelings. He was also aware of the fact that those forbidden affairs grew in the dark times of war. That men, who were cut off from their families, their home, and their usual lives, developed emotions for comrades and friends. In the eyes of most governments, this was abnormal, and the Church often dammed it as a sin. Birkhorn was a more realistic human, who regarded it as wrong to condemn someone as a 'sick criminal' because he (or she) felt love for another of the same gender.

Yet, to say the truth, he couldn't imagine it concerning Hogan and Klink, yet many little things spoke it.

He sighed inwardly. As if there weren't already enough problems. Now one of the most important master spies, Papa Bear, was certainly unable to function properly in the moment because a madman wounded someone he regarded as a close friend… and more. Fear could paralyze you. Not only fear for the own life, but mainly fear for another one you love.

"I cannot promise you that he's going to make it," he said quietly, while he watched how Hogan slipped into his jacket again. "But I can promise I will do everything within my power to save him."

Robert nodded. "More I can't ask of you," he murmured before sitting down on the chair beside Klink's bed. His stomach felt like one big, knotted stone. Like it had since the moment LeBeau alerted him of Hochstetter's presence in the camp. He felt cold, numb, and nauseous. And now, as the adrenaline was wearing off, exhaustion spread through him, yet he didn't dare leave Will's side to lay down on one of the neighboring beds.

Burkhalter had said that there were rumors that an unconscious person could sense the presence of close ones. Friends, family, and lovers. Hogan heard the same saying. And if it was true, then he had to stay here with Will. He could feel the icy presence of the Grim Reaper in the shadows, lurking and waiting. He wouldn't allow Death to come out of his hideout and take Will from him. Somehow he knew that only his presence prevented Death from getting to the man he loved. He would shield Wilhelm. Even if it meant for days.

Bending forwards on the chair, he took Will's cold hand in his and cupped it. "Don't give up, Willie," he said softly, while he heard Birkhorn returning to the next room. "I'm here. I won't allow Death to take you." He pressed a kiss on the cool, dry fingers in his hands. "Stay with me, Will…please. Come back to me. We'll face the future together, you and me. In the States, or here in Germany. Nobody will separate us, I promise."

Knowing that he and Klink were alone, he rose, sat down on the bed's edge, bent down, and brushed his mouth tenderly over the older man's cool lips. His eyes shone with unshed tears as he took in the so familiar, dear features. "We'll walk the path of life together, Will. I swear." He combed the fingers of one hand through the tousled ring of hair. For just a moment, he thought to hear how Klink's breath hitched for a second.

"Fight… Come back to me," he whispered, while he continued to stroke over the cold cheeks, knowing that this would be the longest night of his life.

TBC…

Yes, fights have many faces and can be done in the most different ways. And while Klink fights with the Grim Reaper – and Robert is dammed to stay aside without he could do to help his lover.

In the next chapter, von Neuhaus tries to wind himself out of the deep water he is in. He has prepared a lot to make it look as if Schmidt is to blame for Hochstetter stealing the Walther PKK and to invade Stalag 13. And a few evidences don't look well for the Oberleutnant. So, the case isn't closed, so to say.

I hope, you liked the new chapter, and like always I would LOVE to get some reviews / comments.

I wish everyone a nice 1. Advent-Sunday,

Enjoy the beginning Christmas-time,

Love

Yours Starflight