Hi, my dear readers,
I hope, you all had beautiful Christmas days and that you found some rest after all the stress and much work. We're nearing New Year's Eve and therefore I thought it's about time to publish the next chapter.
Thank you so much for the feedback I got within the last months, despite that the story runs so long. I hope, you're going to enjoy the next chapter.
Have fun,
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 71 – An unexpected visitor
Schmidt got Schultz's signature a quarter hour later after he returned from town, bringing a boiling hen and some beef bones. No one knew how he managed it, but he did – for his CO he had learned to regard as a friend.
LeBeau did little wonders with the scrawny bird in the cantina's kitchen. The soup would be enough for two days and smelled formidable. Dr. Glockner and Hogan fed Klink some of the chicken soup in late midday and watched how the Oberst fell into deep sleep afterwards. The glasser arrived at Stalag 13, measured out the window in Klink's quarters, and promised to repair it within the next two or three days. The kitchen door had to be kept close until then to prevent the quarters from cooling down completely.
The rest of the day went by uneventful. While Schmidt returned to the HQ, content with the outcome of everything, Hogan stayed again with Klink and watched the older man sleep until the late afternoon before he returned to Barracks 2. In the evening, shortly after roll call, Klink woke up again. Hogan had stopped by before curfew to check one last time on him, only to find him lying there with his eyes opened – and utterly confused.
"Hey," Robert greeted and took his lover's hands into his. They weren't that hot anymore, showing that the penicillin was doing its magic.
"Rob," Will whispered, disoriented and bewildered. During the short time he had been awake before, he had barely recognized the younger man, and even now everything was in a haze, but he heard the familiar voice, saw the beloved face hovering above him, and felt those strong fingers around his own. So, everything was good, wasn't it?
Hogan sighed in relief as he got a decent reply and sat down on the bed's edge. "Just have a look; Sleeping Beauty woke up," he teased, reached out, and gently stroked one of the still very warm cheeks. "How do you feel?"
"Tired," came the mumbled reply.
"No wonder. His body is challenged like during a marathon," Wilson's voice sounded from behind Hogan, and as the colonel turned his head, he saw the sergeant stepping beside him, injection in hand. "Glockner is next door?" Joe wanted to know, and as his superior nodded, he took Klink's arm, used a disinfection pad to clean his skin, and quickly gave the shot of penicillin. "It's already helping," Wilson murmured, caught Klink's asking gaze, and smiled. "Ask your conjoined twin."
"My what?" Usually Wilhelm's mind caught equivocal idioms easily, but not now.
"Your conjoined twin," Wilson answered with a chuckle. "You and the colonel are attached at the hip."
Robert shot him a glance. "I hope you mean that as an idiom."
"Of course, Colonel," the medic grinned broadly. "It's still too early in the evening to speak of the more lower body places where you two are usually joined." He saw his superior flushing and, for once, at a loss of words, quickly closed his jacket, and raced out of the infirmary, hearing Hogan call for him as the shutting door cut the rest off. Laughing, he began to walk towards his Barracks, knowing that he would be in deep water if Hogan had been another kind of man and officer.
Inside of the sickbay, Robert shook his head, grumbling and swearing beneath his breath. Dammit. Of course Wilson knew about him and Will, but this joke had been…well, funny. Okay, he admitted it.
He glanced down at Wilhelm, who frowned, obviously not understanding what was going on. Squeezing his beloved's fingers, he said softly, "Don't try to think too hard, Will. You've been through a lot. Just take it easy and sleep a little bit."
"Hm-hm, tired," Klink murmured, before his gaze roamed to the ceiling and back to Robert. "Not my quarters," he whispered.
Rob shook his head. "No, you're in the infirmary." He bent down and quickly brushed his lips over Will's. "Just sleep, my phoenix. Tomorrow you'll feel better."
"Hope so," came the mumbled reply, then Klink closed his eyes and was asleep within a minute, his fingers intertwined with Rob's.
Hogan smiled as he listened to the steady breathing. Klink looked better. Still pale despite his reddened cheeks, still ashen grey, but this waxy appearance had vanished. And his sleep was much more peaceful.
He heard another noise and looked up as Dr. Glockner entered the room. "Was he awake?"
"Shortly – and he answered my questions rather clearly. But he's still awfully tired," Robert reported.
The doctor nodded. "Very good. The tiredness is normal, but that he woke up a few times is a good sign." He glanced at the American officer. "I'm sure he'll make it," he said. As he saw the broad smile and utter relief on the other man's face, he felt a bit touched. He himself had first been a follower of the new regime's regards and doctrines, but today he saw several things in a different light than two or three years ago. And to watch two official opponent officers taking care of each other – and seeing the true worry of the American concerning his German counterpart – told him once more that understanding, respect, and tolerance were the solution for so many problems which had risen more and more during the war. He only hoped that the colonel's comrades had a little bit of the same streaks in them when they conquered more and more of Germany.
*** HH ***
The night was peaceful – especially for the two colonels. Klink slept through the late hours, and therefore Hogan, too. Still, morning came far too early for the exhausted colonel, and suppressing a yawn, he lined up with his men for the morning roll call. As he saw a clearly freezing Burkhalter, Hogan was tempted to tell him that a later morning roll call, like it had been done within the last few weeks, gave an advantage for everyone. But he skipped from speaking his mind, knowing it would give Will trouble later if the general learned of the rather lazy way Klink had followed protocol within the last two months.
The iciness of the air gave everyone trouble. The same went for a man who stepped down from the train in Schweinfurt an hour later. The wind howled on the station platform, and he turned up the collar of his coat made of furs. A black hat protected his head while he walked down the platform, supporting himself on a walking stick with his right hand, little suitcase in his left.
A few SS-guards frowned as they realized that the man was a civilian. Trains were forbidden for civilians, and so the guards stopped the man who seemed to be in his middle fifties. With an arrogant gesture, he showed them his special pass letter, and the men quickly saluted with respect. Like this he also had no problem in finding an SS-officer, who took care that he was driven to his destiny: Stalag 13 in Hammelburg.
*** HH *** HH ***
Hogan was engrossed in a book he had gotten from the camp's library while he sat beside Klink's bed in the infirmary. Burkhalter had visited shortly after breakfast, had exchanged a few words with Dr. Glockner, taunted Hogan a little bit because of him being glued to the place, then left again. Robert didn't care. Let the 'fat Sacher cake' say whatever he wanted. He would remain there until Will was doing better. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do. London had become unusually quiet for days now, the Resistance and the German Underground seemed uncertain of what to do with the United Army coming closer and closer to Germany's borders in the west, and there was nothing to do for the Unsung Heroes. Hell, Newkirk was already complaining that he began to feel like a real POW – a grousing he often used when they had no missions.
Someone knocked softly at the door frame, and Baker stepped into the infirmary. "All clear?" he asked quietly, while nodding at the closed door of the backroom.
Hogan threw a glance over his shoulder and nodded. "Yes, he is out to get some fresh air. I guess the walls are closing up on him by now." He lay his book aside. "Any news?"
"London radioed us a quarter hour ago. They want to inform you that the only air raid that happened three days ago was in East Munich – over Mühldorf. The little town is well-known by our boys because it holds a large transshipment station they already attacked two times, but the Krauts are like ants: damage their den, and hundreds come running to rebuild everything."
"Hm. Will said something of a camp in the south Hochstetter was sent to, but he had no closer information. In the east of Munich? That fits."
Richard made an affirming gesture. "Yes. There are two camps – one in the woods, and one that was changed from a Luftwaffe depot into a prisoner camp. A Luftwaffe base was nearby but mostly destroyed a year ago. The reason why the Nazis use the depot now to lock up POWs and political prisoners."
Hogan pursed his lips. "In other words, there, where the two camps are, there must also be the secret facility Hochstetter spoke of. The captives are forced to build it."
Baker sighed. "Yes, and that's the whole point. If our boys attack whatever there is in the woods, they would kill hundreds, if not thousands, of prisoners."
Robert cursed beneath his breath. "It's the same like in Thuringia. The damn Krauts use prisoners and labor workers not only to construct their projects, but also as living shields." He shook his head. "No chance to wipe out the facility from above. The whole thing has to be conquered and liberated just like the facility in Thuringia." He grimaced. "Great. And in the meantime, the damn Nazis are building their new bird that'll certainly give us new trouble sooner or later."
"I agree," Baker said. "London sees it likewise, but just like you said; the price would be too high. Those poor bastards are counting on the Allies to get them out alive. That brings me to the next topic. I contacted Hans Wagner after my talk with London and told him about the whole mess. There is an active Underground cell in Landshut. It's not too far away from Mühldorf. He's contacting them so that they maybe can give our pilot who was shot down and the escapees from the camp a helping hand. Wagner will inform us as soon as he has something."
"At least one good message," Hogan sighed. "How is our team doing?"
The sergeant began to chuckle. "You know them; if they don't have anything to do, they get antsy. LeBeau at least has things to cook, but the others…" He shook his head and shrugged.
"They should be grateful that it's quiet at the moment. Given how edgy Burkhalter and the others are, it would be a dance on the high wire to fulfill a mission right now," Robert sighed.
"At least we have the leading SS and Gestapo officer on our side for once," Baker smiled. Hogan had already told them about the talk with Schmidt, and the Heroes were relieved that there was no need to take action against the young man, who had helped their superior and was Fräulein Hilda's loved one. To know that Schmidt would look away here and there was a calming thought, too.
Baker and Hogan exchanged a few words more, then the sergeant left, while Robert continued to read. To say the truth, he was grateful for a little time-out.
*** HH ***
Albert Burkhalter read through the long list of expenses, which were surprisingly low given the high number of POWs and the added guards. He didn't know how Klink made it, but somehow the Oberst had developed the Midas touch when it came to the camp budget within the last few months. A few expenses were out of the norm, especially for coal and nourishment, but that wasn't Klink's fault. The prices on the regular market were unpayable, the ration vouchers didn't last for the camp's occupants' basic needs, and everything you could get through seedy tricks was more than expensive.
So, given the circumstances, Klink had managed to do little wonders over and over again – seeing that the guards and POWs still had enough to eat and warm dorms and Barracks. Sure where coal wasn't enough, prisoners had collected fire wood, but at least the temperature in the huts was bearable. When he thought about the conditions in other camps, though…
There was a knock on the door, and Hilda came in. "Herr General, the guards are reporting the arrival of a civilian at the gates. He is accompanied by an SS-sergeant and wants to speak with you."
Burkhalter frowned. "A civilian – here? Do you know who it is?"
"No, Herr General, but he has a pass letter from Reichsminister Goebbels himself."
That was certainly a door opener. "Tell the guards to let him in, and prepare some tea, please. Given the weather outside, I'm sure the gentleman will be grateful to get something warm to drink."
Hilda nodded and vanished. Burkhalter pursed his lips. A civilian with a personal pass letter from Goebbels? It was certainly some civilian from the industry who would demand workers from the camp for another 'great project', getting special treatment because he was a 'friend' of the PR minister. Burkhalter was really beginning to loath these 'special favors' so-called 'friends' of the Reichs government were granted over and over again. Usually those favors were only useful for the guys' own wallets and brought nothing else than trouble.
Another knock on the door came, and Schultz entered the office, a stranger accompanying him. "Herr General, Herr Friedrich Klink from Berlin is here," he stated, clearly as confused as Burkhalter became as he rose from the desk chair.
His gaze hung at the man who had to be in his middle fifties, was tall and slender, wore a dark winter coat made of furs, and a black hat. The typical dark blue Klink-eyes looked at him from behind gold framed spectacles, and he supported himself on a walking stick, but there was no limping in his steps. Another look at the stick proved that it was more for decoration than anything else, made of polished black wood with a silver lion head on its peak.
"General Burkhalter, please excuse my unannounced visit here in the camp, but I got information that my younger brother Wilhelm was seriously wounded during an assault within these wires." His voice was a cool tenor, but lacked of any dialect. Obviously the oldest Klink brother cultivated his pronunciation, which certainly brought him more acceptance in the higher society he consorted with.
Burkhalter, still a little bit thunderstruck with whom the icy winter wind had blown into the camp's Kommandantur, offered the man his hand, who accepted it instantly.
"Welcome to Stalag 13, Herr Klink. I have to admit that I'm a little bit…surprised of your visit." He pointed at one of the visitor chairs. "Please have a seat."
The man thanked him and sat down while Hilda appeared with a cup of tea. She watched the strange man for a moment. Yes, he resembled his brother, but where Wilhelm Klink's eyes were far too human, those of his brother shone with coolness and calculation. He held his head a little bit higher than necessary, and there was an arrogant streak around his mouth the camp's Kommandant only showed when he tried to cover some uncertainty. On Friedrich's face, it seemed to be natural and betrayed his character.
Hilda knew the decorations on her boss' desk in and out, and she was aware that he had photos of his parents and two of his siblings placed on it, but none of his older brother. No wonder. Even without any details the young woman simply knew that the two brothers didn't get along well. They were too different. Even on the first sight.
"Thank you, Fräulein," Friedrich nodded at the young woman. Watching her go, he turned his attention back to Burkhalter, polite mask firmly in place. "Herr General, just like I said I apologize to steal some of your time. My mother called me the day before yesterday after you informed her about Wilhelm getting severely injured and practically begged me to travel from Berlin to Hammelburg to see how he's doing." Friedrich poured some sugar into his tea, held the saucer in one hand, and stirred the little spoon in the cup, while he crossed elegantly his legs.
"Well, until yesterday it looked very bad for him," Albert said, folding his hands on the desktop. "But I'm glad to tell you that your brother woke up a few times since then. Yet he still isn't out of the woods. The doctors are positive that he will make a full recovery if his condition proceeds, but it will be a longer way for him if he survives the next few days." He lowered his glance. "The men he works with are glad that he woke up, but I've seen too many injured men not to know that this all could be nothing more than a last rising up before the end comes. Of course I hope that your brother will make it. He's a fine man, and he won a few real friends here who are worried sick for him…but to be realistic: A true all-clear can't be given until now."
"Was he responsive when he woke up?" Friedrich asked, drinking a sip of the warm tea.
"Sort of," Burkhalter nodded, but somehow he wasn't convinced that the other man was indeed concerned for his brother. His voice sounded too flat for it. Nonetheless, he continued. "But he's running a fever, which was expected considering the massive injuries he's suffered. If it lowers within the next two or three days, his chance of survival grows."
The oldest Klink put his cup back on the desktop and fixed the general with a firm stare. "How did it come to this…mess here? Mother spoke of an assault that took place, but not done by some rebellious POWs…but a mad SS-man who sought vengeance for whatever reason. How is something like this even possible? Isn't this camp secured enough?"
Burkhalter took a deep breath. This was exactly what he needed: Answering to some civilian who only pretended to be worried for a hurt family member. Exercising himself in restraint, the general replied, "Yes, regrettably your brother was wounded by one of our own lines, so to say, but said man had turned insane. I spoke with him afterwards, and I have to agree that he completely lost his mind. Something I should have seen come. He overrode the camp's security because he was smuggled into it by a supporter, who hoped to gain advantage for himself by assisting the assailant." He began to tell of what happened, and Friedrich listened closely. After Burkhalter was finished, he took a deep breath and shook his head. For once there seemed to be some genuine sympathy.
"Wilhelm, something like this could only happen to you." He sighed. "My brother has a tendency to get into deep water…innocently, mind you. He is no troublemaker, to put it carefully, but somehow always finds himself cornered."
The general grimaced inwardly. Yes, that sounds completely like Wilhelm Klink. Nipping shortly at his own tea, he answered, "I'm sorry that my call worried your mother so much that she felt the need to send you on this journey. But I thought Kli…Wilhelm's family had a right to learn what misfortune had befallen on him."
"Your consideration is very appreciated, Herr General, be sure of it. Yes, my mother is still worried, and she was desperate to call me despite the effort to get a direct line to Berlin after the last air raid on Monday. Of course I obeyed my mother's wish, though. After all, despite everything in the past, Wilhelm is by brother."
Burkhalter nodded, realizing that there seemed to be some rip between the two brothers' relationship. "Such a travel is not an easy task, given the condition of our whole traffic network. Yet seeing that an SS-sergeant drove you to Hammelburg, it…"
"Sorry to correct you, Herr General, but I came by train. It would have cost me too much time to travel by car – given the many detours the destroyed roads would have forced me to make."
Albert lifted both brows. "Ah, therefore the pass letter of Minister Goebbels."
Friedrich shrugged nonchalantly. "A little favor from him for providing his whole staff with new uniforms despite the problems to get material for it – and for a few nice suits for his little boys." He took the cup again and emptied the tea. "Herr General, I don't want to be impolite, but could I see my brother now?"
Burkhalter rose. The sooner he was rid of the man, the better. "Of course, Herr Klink." He went to the cloak hanger to get his coat. "I will show you the way." The two men left the office. "Fräulein Hilda, we're in the infirmary," Albert informed the young woman, who nodded at him. On one of the visitor chairs sat the SS-sergeant and was drinking some tea; obviously grateful for it.
The two men stepped out of the Kommandantur and headed towards the next building to their left as a running figure woke the general's attention. Corporal Langenscheidt jogged towards him and saluted. "Herr General, I'm sorry to disturb you and the gentleman, but do you have a second? We have new problems with the generator."
"Yes, Corporal," Albert answered, glad for the distraction, and turned towards Friedrich. "The infirmary is over there," he said, pointing at the wooden building between the Kommandantur, the cantina, and dorms of the guards. "Just go inside. Your brother is the only patient there at the moment."
The oldest Klink brother nodded. "Thank you, Herr General." He walked with quick steps towards the wooden house, walking stick in one hand. Burkhalter watched him go and sighed. Wilhelm Klink could be vain and sometimes a little bit too proud, but his older brother was living arrogance on two legs. Far more self-loving than the Oberst.
Turning around to Langenscheidt, he asked, "A new problem with the generator?"
"Yes, Herr General. We made a test run of it, and it broke down again. A few spare parts have to be changed, but…I think it will be a problem to get them."
"What is not a problem to get by now?" the general groaned before he watched the visitor disappearing into the infirmary.
"Who is that?" Langenscheidt asked, nodding into the direction of the vanishing figure.
"Friedrich Klink – Oberst Klink's older brother. I called Klink's mother the day prior to yesterday, and the woman was startled enough to contact her eldest son, begging him to get some information about the Oberst first hand." He grimaced. "He really is a…"
Crashes, shouts, and other noises cut off the general's words. They came from the infirmary. For a moment, the two Wehrmacht members stood there like a pillar of salt, then began to run towards the sickbay. Langenscheidt was far quicker than the stout general and reached the infirmary first. Drawing his pistol, he entered the building, ready to intervene.
But what he saw made him stop within his movements. He looked at the scene in front of him, while beside him a breathless Burkhalter stopped dead in his tracks, too – beginning to sputter as he saw what was happening.
*** HH ***
After Baker had left the infirmary, Hogan had begun to read again. Then, after a quarter hour or so, he heard a car entering the camp. The motor sounded different from Klink's staff car and curious, the colonel went to one of the small windows and looked out. He saw a black SS- car and a black clad man leaving the driver seat, while another man, tall and clad in civil clothing, left the passenger seat. He vanished into the Kommandantur guided by Schultz.
"What now?" Hogan murmured. "Can't there be one day of routine anymore?" A low moan from the sickbed woke his attention.
"Will?" Robert asked hopefully. He returned to Klink, placed the book on the neighboring bed, and bent over his German counterpart. "Will, can you hear me?" He asked softly; gently cupping Wilhelm's shoulders with his hands.
Again the Oberst moaned quietly, then his eyes began to flutter. Rob couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. "Hey, sleepyhead. Finally done with your beauty sleep?" he teased tenderly; brown eyes full of love.
Wilhelm Klink blinked a few times, confused, tired and feeling somehow odd. This here wasn't his quarters, but a larger room as his mind slowly began to grasp again. And Rob was here. This was a good sign, wasn't it?
"Robert?" he murmured.
"Yes, it's me," the American answered, threw a short glance to the door, bent down, and gave his beloved a soft kiss. "How are you feeling?" he whispered, one hand lovingly stroking through the older man's crown of hair.
"Like a truck ran me over," Klink answered quietly. "Or like I attended a far too wild party." He moistened his lips, feeling like he was wrapped up in cotton wool with a lot of fog in his head. "What happened?" he asked dizzily.
Hogan was happy as he got a more sane reply for once, and sat down on the bed's edge. "What do you remember?"
Will tried to think, but everything was so scrambled and confusing. "I…I don't…" he began. "There were noises…and shouts…and shots." He frowned before he looked up questioningly at the younger man. "This is…the infirmary. I was…wounded, right?"
Robert nodded slowly, glad that Will's mind worked more properly now. "Yes. Hochstetter escaped the camp he was sentenced to, invaded Stalag 13, crept into your quarters, and shot you. Then I came. We fought and…"
"He shot at you, too." Will gasped, as a few of his memories rose in his mind. His eyes widened in alert, while his gaze quickly roamed over Hogan's chest, shoulders, and face.
"No, he didn't. What you heard was Schultz, who broke down the door just in time and sent a bullet into Hochstetter's arm…saving me and also you in the end," Hogan explained and cupped Wilhelm's cheek with one hand again. He saw how startled his secret lover was and continued softly. "I'm not hurt, Will. So don't fear."
Klink frowned again, glancing at the purple bruise on his beloved's face. "He got you here," he whispered, lifting a hand that seemed to weigh tons.
"It's nothing," Robert assured him. "Believe me, I got it worse in my wild youth." He winked with a grin at him, then he became serious again. "But he got you bad. You got shot in the stomach at close range." He saw how Klink blinked in bemusement.
"He… got me?" Will tried to look down on himself, but his head was too heavy to lift it.
Hogan saw the beginning movement and strengthened his fingers, which still cupped his lover's cheek. "Don't, Will. The doctors say every hasty movement can tear up what they sewed close in hours long work."
"How bad…is it?" Klink asked. As numb as he felt, he knew what fatal consequences such an injury could have.
"Thank the Lord the bullet didn't hit any vital organs or nerves. Remember how Dr. Glockner tested your legs the evening before yesterday?" As he received a tiny, negative gesture, he continued. "As you woke up for the first time, one of the surgeons tested your legs. You were able to move them, which means that no nerves in your back were damaged. An issue none of them could exclude before. But you were able to move your toes, then even your legs. So you'll be able to walk again." He smiled at Klink, who seemed to understand more and more by now, returning the smile. Then his numb mind realized something else.
"And…why am I here and not in the hospital?"
"It was an emergency surgery. Here, in the camp's infirmary," Robert answered. "You lost a lot of blood, and the doctors thought it was too dangerous to transport you to Hammelburg. Dr. Birkhorn and a whole team came and operated on you with Wilson and young Hauser. The first day afterwards was the worst…but after you woke up, the doctor said your chances to heal were good."
This was information Klink had to stomach first…maybe it was a little mercy that he didn't grasp everything completely yet. "How long was I out?" he asked hoarsely, feeling despite his confusion and tiredness some tension rising in him. "What about the camp? Is everything okay? What about Hochstetter and…"
"Will," Rob interrupted him softly, placing a finger on the older man's lips. "Take it easy. You went through a lot and have to slacken yourself off. Don't worry. Hochstetter's dead. He faced a firing squad the day before yesterday. He'll never try to harm you or I again." He saw the relief that washed over Klink's face and continued. "You were out for a whole day and then over and over again. But the camp's in order. Burkhalter's here and is taking over command for now."
The Oberst suppressed a yawn. He felt cold and hot in one, but odd enough, there was not much pain, so his mind worked a bit more properly than before. "Burkhalter – has taken over? Not good. What if he finds out about you?"
Robert decided to tell Will later about Schmidt revealing him as Papa Bear. And Burkhalter was miles away from finding out the truth. "How so? London has no tasks for us at the moment. Everything is eerie quiet, and Burkhalter has a lot to do in your office." He smirked. "Let him be on the front once again, so to say, and maybe he'll appreciate your daily work more in the future." He cocked his head. "By the way, he was worried for you. He likes you, even if he doesn't admit it."
Klink felt a soft tugging at his mouth, while he closed his eyes for a moment. The light hurt his head. "If you think so," he whispered, hearing the alluring voice of sleep calling for him.
"I do," Hogan answered gently. "He has a soft spot for you. He just hides it very well." He watched how Will moistened his lips again. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked attentively.
"Ja," Wilhelm nodded, Hogan got some water, and returned to the bed. Bending over Will, he softly supported the older man's head while placing the glass against the pale lips. "Drink slowly," he said quietly. "Don't get sick."
He heard someone entering the infirmary, and thinking it to be Dr. Glockner, Hogan didn't look up. His attention was fixed on his secret lover. "So it's good. Drink slowly," he instructed gently – and heard a gasp behind him.
"Gehen Sie sofort weg von ihm! (Get away from him immediately)" A strange voice shouted, followed by a clattering, then Hogan saw a shadow at the edge of his sight. The next moment, fingers were wrapped around the wrist of his hand that held the glass and pulled it roughly away, while another hand gripped for his shoulder.
Hogan reacted on pure instinct. Letting the glass fall, he whirled around, tore his wrist free, and shoved his attacker against the next bed. He saw a tall figure clad in a dark winter coat. A man who caught himself and turned around, furious with him and losing his hat in the process. Robert saw a middle aged face that was somehow almost familiar, crowned by grey hair, then the man tried to punch him; raging, "LASS IHN IN RUHE, VERDAMMTER MISTKERL! (Leave him alone, damn bastard)"
The colonel caught his fist in mid-air, ducked under it, and twisted the stranger's arm on his back, causing him to yell in pain. Using the motion, Hogan pushed the attacker forwards against the wall, immobilizing him there by pressing himself against the man's backside and holding the stranger's arm in a painful angle between them.
"GUARDS!" he shouted.
"WACHEN!" screamed the other man.
Steps drew nearer and stopped, while surprised gasps were to hear. Hogan, filled with adrenaline and in battle-mode, looked over his shoulder straight at a very thunderstruck Langenscheidt and flabbergasted Burkhalter, who came to a halt beside the corporal. "Get some guards; this guy attacked us!" he snapped.
"Tell this wretch to let go off me, or I'll take care that he gets shot!" the stranger snarled, switching to English to drive his point home.
Burkhalter took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he realized what happened. 'Just stay calm, Albert. Such chaos is nothing unusual in this camp. Just breath, count to three, and stay calm.' Then he opened his eyes again and said with his most commanding voice, "Hogan, let the gentleman go!"
Friedrich Klink tried to rear up. "Arrest him, Herr General. He tried to poison my…"
"This guy attacked me from behind without any warning and…" Hogan began, but was interrupted by the staff officer once again, this time even more forcefully than before.
"Hogan, let go of the man, and that's an order!"
Unwillingly, Robert obeyed, glaring daggers at the civilian, while beside him Will stared with big eyes at the newcomer, not trusting what he saw.
"How dare you!" Friedrich snarled, putting his clothes back into order and rubbing his shoulder. "I'll make certain that you're severely punished for…"
"You attacked me from behind, so don't complain if I defended myself!" the colonel snapped, anger coloring his face.
Schultz and a few guards came bursting into the infirmary, Dr. Glockner on their heels. "What's going on here? No one moves or…" the Sergeant of the Guards shouted, rifle ready. Then he saw a nerved Burkhalter, a confused Langenscheidt, an enraged Friedrich Klink, a likewise irritated Hogan, and a very thunderstruck Oberst Klink, who looked up with an open mouth at his older brother.
"Oh…Hm…sorry," Schultz said lamely, letting his weapon sink while he gestured at the guards to do the same.
While Langenscheidt also holstered his pistol again, Burkhalter crossed his hands on his back and took a deep breath. "Everything is okay, Schultz. Please leave. The same goes for you, Corporal. I'll take care of the generator issue later," he said, before he addressed Friedrich with forced politeness. "Herr Klink, even if you're not in the Wehrmacht or SS, you should know that it is very foolish to attack a soldier from behind."
"Klink?" Hogan asked baffled, before he glanced at his secret lover, who gaped at the 'stranger'.
"This damn Ami tried to poison my brother!" Friedrich hissed, pointing an accusing finger at Hogan.
"Ha, rather the Donau flows backwards," Schultz commented, caught Burkhalter's threatening glance, and hurried up to leave, shooing the guards in front of him out of the building, who almost collided with Hogan's men. "And what are you doing here?" the Bavarian's voice was cut off as the door closed.
"This 'damn Ami' is the American officer I told you about a few minutes ago," the general continued firmly, his eyes straightly directed at the older Klink. "He risked his neck for your brother, so you can be assured that he would do anything but poisoning him. The two are like an old pair of shoes, so to say."
"Brother?" Hogan burst out, utterly bewildered.
"Fritz?" Wilhelm spoke up for the first time, voice weak, but it betrayed his disbelief. "What…what are you doing here?"
"Is this really your brother, Will?" Robert asked, gesturing at the civilian.
"How dare you! That's 'Oberst Klink' for you, prisoner," Friedrich spat.
Hogan shot him a glare accompanied by a mockingly smile. "We're already a step further," he deadpanned.
"MAY I introduce the gentlemen?" Burkhalter interrupted them sharply, before the whole mess would get out of control again. Closing the distance to the sickbed and stepping over the walking stick the older Klink had let fall as he rushed towards his brother, he added sternly, "Hogan, this is Friedrich Klink, Oberst Klink's older brother. Herr Klink, this is Colonel Hogan, senior POW officer of Stalag 13 – and your brother's savior."
Both men stared hostilely at each other. Robert's gaze roamed over the face in front of him. Yes, there was a certain resemblance, but as the man straightened his slender shape and lifted his chin, he was reminded of Will in his worst behavior he displayed almost three years ago. And, above all, the man's eyes lacked the warmth Wilhelm's held.
"So, you are Will's older brother?" Hogan asked wryly. "It really needed him being almost killed that you get into contact with him again?" He shook his head. "A fine brother you are."
"I don't know how any of this is your concern," Friedrich answered coldly.
He glanced the American officer in front of him up and down. He was a little bit smaller than himself, had broad shoulders, wore a weathered bomber jacket made of leather, a worn out uniform, and a black lock fell into his high forehead. Dark eyes glanced fiercely at him, but he became aware of another thing: The man was handsome in a very manly, yet boyish way despite the fact that he had to be in his later thirties. He was exactly the type of male his brother got weak knees for.
"Fritz?" Wilhelm's voice sounded, still very quiet, but also amazed. "What…what are you doing here?" he asked again.
Friedrich gave the colonel one last piercing glare and showed him the cold shoulder, while he finally turned his attention towards his younger brother. "Mother called me the day prior to yesterday and told me of you almost being murdered by an insane former SS-member. She is beside herself with worry, and because Wolfgang is of no use for anything anymore – not even to drive a car – and she has no driving license, she asked me to look after you." He stepped beside the sickbed. "Really, brother dear, how does it come that you always end up in such situations?" There was something like concern in his voice.
"People get hurt and killed during a war," Wilhelm answered. "It's a fate you eluded."
Friedrich snorted. "Far from it. After all, half of my company lays in ruins, and I lost more than half of my workers, including secretaries. I escaped the last air raid by a hair's width," he answered, pushed Hogan with one hand aside without even looking at him, and sat down on the bed's edge.
"Take your fingers away from me," the colonel said with an icy voice.
"I'll wash them afterwards," the older Klink sneered, before he glanced back at Wilhelm, who frowned deeply.
"Fritz, Colonel Hogan saved my life – not only three days ago, but also in several events prior. He became my friend…and if you offend him…you offend me."
Friedrich lifted both of his brows. "Is that so?" He looked up at the American, who stood far too close beside him, arms still crossed, jaw set into a firm tilt of his head. "I'm sure you had your reasons. How many favors did you gain for you 'noble deeds'?"
Robert felt his blood pressure rising. "None," he said flatly. "But of course you assume something like that. Men like you only do something for others if there's some advantage in it for themselves."
The older Klink narrowed his eyes. "You are a POW, and my brother is your jailer. You are enemies. Don't tell me you would move only one finger for him if there isn't an advantage for you in the end."
"Fritz," Klink said with surprisingly strong voice. "Hogan is my friend. Leave him alone." Then he glanced at Hogan. "Rob, I know you want to shield me, but I have to speak with Fritz."
Hogan looked down at him. "You're sure?"
"Yes, I am."
"The patient has to stay calm. Putting him into a flurry can be dangerous for the Oberst," Dr. Glockner rose to speak. "I heard from the talks that there seems to be some…differences between you, Herr Klink, and you, Herr Oberst." He glanced at Friedrich. "As your brother's surgeon, I ask you not to stir him up."
"Of course not, Doctor," Friedrich answered. "I took responsibility for him since I was thirteen, and I will continue to do so."
"Don't," the younger Klink warned him. "I'm capable of handling myself for more than thirty years now."
"And look to where it brought you," his brother answered more softly now, laying one hand on his sibling's fingers.
"Hogan, come with me," Burkhalter ordered, as he saw how the American officer tensed. "Give the two brothers a chance to speak."
Robert hesitated and glanced one time more back at Will. "You'll be okay?"
The hint of a smile tugged at Wilhelm's mouth. "Yes, Rob…don't worry."
"Tell Earth to stop spinning," he murmured, gave the older man a gentle smile, and turned to leave. But not without pointing a finger at Friedrich. "You heard the surgeon. Don't irritate him. If he gets worse again because of your talk, you have to answer to me."
For a moment, the older Klink gaped at him, then he snarled. "How dare you threaten me."
"He likes to utter threats," Burkhalter whispered under his breath in a rare fit of humor.
"I have the streak to stand up for my friends…and I don't care against whom," Hogan snapped and was about to head towards the door as the Friedrich called, "Colonel?"
Robert stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "What?"
Friedrich pointed to the floor. "There still lays the glass you let drop."
Hogan gave him a dangerous smile. "'The glass you forced me to let drop', you mean. I suggest you pick it up – before someone steps on it and gets hurt."
The older Klink stared thunderstruck at him and only found his ability to speak again as Hogan and Burkhalter left. "Who does he think he is?"
"My friend," Will answered, feeling absolutely tired, but knew that he had to speak with his brother. "So Mother called you?" he changed the topic.
"Yes," Friedrich began, realized that the surgeon was still in the room, and addressed him. "Doctor, could I talk with my brother in private, please?"
Sighing, Dr. Glockner nodded and went to the backroom, closing the door.
Finally, the two brothers were alone.
TBC…
Yeah, two completely different worlds collided. Of course Hogan and Friedrich Klink won't get along, both are the utterly contrast of each other. And this will continue within the next chapter, yet 'Fritz' is going to show some streaks neither Hogan and even less Wilhelm could assume.
I hope you liked the way the two men met each other (misunderstandings are always such a nice chance to write a little chaos scene, *grin*), but also how protective Robert is about his 'phoenix'. Sometimes you really can feel some pity for Burkhalter; it's anything but easy with two troublemakers, but now with a third on the scene…
In the next chapter, you'll learn more about 'Fritz', the two brothers have a serious talk, Hogan becomes an even bigger mother hen than he already is, he and Friedrich exchange a lot of 'cordialities' and Burkhalter things to be in the wrong movie. So expect some fun.
Hopefully you liked the new chapter and like always I'd be happy to get some comments.
I wish you all now a lot of fun with New Year's Eve tomorrow and have nice parties.
Love, and thank you for the last year,
Yours Starflight
