Hi, my dear reads,

Once again I've to apologize for the delayed update, but I finally finished my business for the summer holidays, and now I face two long weeks of rest. The monthly settlement is also done, now I've two weeks of free time – what a nice thought.

Thank you so much for the many reviews for the last chapter. Yes, I know, we're nearing the last showdown, and I can promise you that it will be full of action, drama and even angst. I think, you already assume to where this part will lead…

Therefore no more long words,

Enjoy the new chapter

Yours Starflight

Chapter 97 – A desperate call

Beneath the camp, Hogan stared at the wall lost in thought. From one moment to the next they had not one, not two, but three problems all at once. Number one: Burkhalter. Number two: What to do with him. And number three: How to prevent the Nazis from 'evacuating' Stalag 13.

Dammit, why couldn't something be easy for once? It was Easter, for Heaven's sake; shouldn't there be some peace left for them?

Pursing his lips, he finally looked down at Burkhalter again. "When is the evacuation for our camp planned?"

"There was no exact date – only that the whole project will be started within the next five or six days."

"In other words, we have four days left to stop this murderous insanity," Robert murmured.

"Or to take our heels," Newkirk grumbled. "If you ask me, Gov'nor, this is the only way out."

"We wouldn't make it more than a few miles until the SS comes and shoots us down," Kinch answered.

"And our cavalier would come too late – like always," Carter sighed. "It already happened during the wild west. Whenever an attack of gangsters or furious Indians took place, the cavalier came when the whole thing was over and…"

"Carter," Peter sighed, "we're not in the wild west, and the US Army doesn't ride on horses anymore or wear blue – despite for the Navy, but that's beside the…"

"What did you two just say?" Hogan interrupted them, eyes widening.

"That the cavalier always comes too late?" Andrew remarked.

"And that today your Army doesn't ride on horses anymore?" Newkirk repeated with a big question mark shimmering on his forehead.

Robert slowly began to grin, his brown eyes sparkling. "Boys, sometimes I could kiss you." He turned around to Kinchloe. "Kinch, get me General Butler on the line – no matter where they have to get him to answer this call. Make it a priority one with a red alert – red enough to turn it lilac, so to say."

Klink cocked his head. "What's your plan?"

"I call the cavalier; simple as that," Hogan answered, smirking.

"You what?" Will was certain that he hadn't understood his beloved correctly.

"I call the cavalier," the American colonel repeated, chuckling as he saw the flabbergasted expressions around him. "I tell Alex what I just learned from our dear general here, and he and his boys have to come and get us out. It's only a little detour to Munich and…"

"You want to tell your superior what you learned from me?" Burkhalter interrupted him. "In other words, you're going to reveal my presence and the reason why I gave you that information first hand."

Hogan sighed as he saw the resignation and hue of fear on the Austrian's round face. "General, even if I would get roped into helping you to reach Switzerland, I'd be unable to fulfill the task. The ways we used to smuggle people out of Germany is closed. There's no chance to get someone on the other side of Germany's border now – the reason why we even hid other escapees among us." He watched how Burkhalter's little eyes became wide. "Yes, we hide escapees here – just like we're going to do with you."

"You want to let him go, mon Colonel?" LeBeau gasped.

"I think he is in far greater danger from his own people than from us," Robert answered, his gaze firmly locked on Burkhalter's face. "To let him go would mean certain death for him. What he can expect from us is fair treatment – now and afterwards."

Albert took a deep breath. "You're going to deliver me to London," he assumed.

"No, you're going to surrender and support us. I admit that it'll be too late to get you off the hook completely, but you were – indeed – always determined to stick to the Geneva Conventions, and you did protect us from the Nazis' despotism. And when you help us to hinder Himmler and his goonies to send us all on a death walk and abuse us officers as living shields, I'm sure it'll lead to attenuating circumstances at a trial." He straightened his shoulders. "I'll speak on your behalf – and my men, too." He looked at his friends. "Right, fellas?"

Newkirk pushed his free hand into the trousers pockets, LeBeau crossed his arms in front of his chest, Carter rubbed his neck, and Kinch shoved his cap back into his neck. He was the first who groaned, "Okay." Then he rose and went to the radio.

"Under protest, but…oui," Louis grumbled.

Hogan looked at Peter. "Newkirk?"

"I have a belly ache just thinking of it, but…yeah, somehow we owe him something." He grimaced. "I'll put in a good word for him."

Hogan smiled before he glanced at Carter. "Andrew?"

"Well…he busted about the 'glory of the Third Reich', brought rockets, air fighters, tanks, heavy water, and God knows what else to our camp, but…he isn't so bad. And he came to your aid, Colonel, as Klink tried to get you away from Hochstetter. So, yeah; I'll do it, too."

"A simple 'okay' would have been enough, you know." Newkirk shot him a dark glare.

"How do you know about the heavy water?" Albert asked, shocked.

"We have good ears, you know. They're so good, we can hear everything you say in Klink's office," Kinch said wryly.

Burkhalter's eyes were about to bulge out of his head before he glanced at Klink. "There are bucks in your office?"

"How do you think Hogan was always able to burst into the office at the right time?" Wilhelm replied nonchalantly, smiling innocently.

"Since when do you support him? From the beginning?" The general pointed at Hogan.

The Kommandant grinned. "I began to realize that something was off with this clever fox that was locked into my cage a few weeks after he arrived. I got the last proof last summer – and continued to support him inactively. The latter changed in January – after Hochstetter kidnapped and tortured him. No one lays hands on him without getting into trouble with me first."

Burkhalter leaned back on the chair that creaked a little bit. "I remember you turning your back on your older friends often enough as soon as they were suspected by the Gestapo. But when Hogan's welfare is at stake, you grow a backbone. Don't tell me that Hochstetter was right about you two, too."

Will frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, confused.

Albert made a face and dropped the topic. Glancing back at Hogan, he said, "You offer me your assistance after the war when I'm going to have court martial. You and your men. Did I understand you correctly?"

"Yes," Robert nodded. "Believe me, this will spare you a lot."

"And you have my support, too," Connor cut in and met the older man's eyes. "I haven't forgotten that it was you who sent the train to pick up my men and I. It saved dozens of lives. And that you even transferred us from the Heer into your responsibility spared lives, too. We will come down for you, too."

Burkhalter sighed and lowered his head. This was less than he hoped for, but more he could have hoped for. "Thank you," he said, looking up again and straight at Hogan. "I only have one request."

"The negotiation is over," Newkirk growled.

The general ignored him. "I ask you to help my driver. The boy never did anything wrong, but stood true to me after he learned that I fell from grace. He risked his life to bring me here, and he is as good as dead should he get caught by the SS. He is…a good man."

Hogan shrugged. "I have no problem with that. When this camp is liberated, he'll be questioned; that's all."

"Colonel," Kinch interrupted them, looking up from the radio. "I have London on the line. They asked what happened that you're trying to make a priority one to General Butler."

"Tell them that a firestorm is coming – and he's the firefighter."

"They're going to be so happy," James grumbled, and radioed London again.

"Colonel," Connor rose to speak. "If we want to hide the general here, then he has to leave again to be brought back afterwards. The guards saw him coming and strolling over the compound. If the SS should arrive and ask questions, everyone can say truthfully that General Burkhalter was here, but left during the later morning. Then they'll search for him everywhere, but here."

"Why should they assume him here at all?" Newkirk frowned.

"You've got a point there, Connor." Hogan nodded before he looked at Peter to answer his question. "General Burkhalter was at home in Hammelburg for years. If you were on the flight, wanted to leave the country, and your former home is en route, you would travel via it, because you know it best. The Austrian border is not too far away. There's no chance for him to leave Germany east or west, because there are the battles. Our boys are about to conquer the north, too, so only the south remains open to roam – southeast, to say it clearly. Logical choice; the general tries his luck there. The Gestapo isn't stupid. They're going to search for him here first."

"Then we should make certain that everyone believes that he isn't any longer in the camp," Klink suggested, and Robert made an affirming gesture.

"True, and I already have an idea on what to do." Hogan glanced at his friends. "Newkirk, LeBeau, take cleaning things, and go to Klink's office. Wait there for the general and our Kommandant." He looked at Burkhalter. "You slept there. Are there a few cushions we could use?"

"Yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

"Because, let's face it; your uniform is far too large for Newkirk. When the guards watch him enter your car masked as you, his figure has to resemble you." He glanced at Peter. "You and the general's driver…what's his name?"

"Friedhelm Buchholz," Burkhalter answered.

"Okay, you, Newkirk, and Buchholz drive down the main road towards the south. Take spare clothes with you and leave the general's coat and the drivers cap in the car, then burn it. Make it look like it was an accident. Like this, we hopefully can fool the Gestapo into believing the general is dead. Then return to camp via the tree stump." He glanced at a flabbergasted Burkhalter. "Sorry. This won't be comfortable for you, but you'll have to hide here 'til the camp is liberated, and…"

"Liberated?" Albert was certain that he was in the wrong movie. Hogan wanted to fake his death, hide him here in the tunnels, and wanted the camp to be liberated – and this all in a few days?"

"Colonel, I have General Butler on the line. It's a safe frequency," Kinch interrupted them and pressed the headset closer to his ears. "Yes, General, I understand. I'm passing you to Colonel Hogan, sir. One moment, please." He offered Hogan the listening device and made room for him.

Robert shook his head, placed the headset on the table, and activated the tiny speaker. "Alex?"

"Robert," It sounded with some static through the room. "What's happened? I hope this priority one is not made on the behalf of another kid – as cute as the boy is."

Burkhalter frowned. Kid? Boy? A priority one on the child's behalf?

"Negative. This time it's on the behalf of us." Hogan took a deep breath. "There are new orders from the insane mass murderer in Berlin, and if you don't haul your ass over…I mean your butt, then we're done for. Not only my men, Connor's men, and I, but also a lot more POWs."

For a moment, there was a pause followed by a stern, "What's the order?"

In the next two minutes, Hogan explained the new situation to his mentor and superior, and Butler cursed anything but gentlemanlike, ending with a hearty, "Dammit!" Then they all heard the American general taking a deep breath. "When will this take place?"

"At different times, but Stalag 13 will be one of the first camps to be 'evacuated' in Germany's original borders. Everything will start during the next few days."

"From whom did you get this information? Is the source trustworthy?"

Hogan's gaze wandered to the Austrian in their middle. "Yeah, it's firsthand information. It comes from General Albert Burkhalter in person."

"Did you eavesdrop, or…"

"No, Alex. General Burkhalter told me – us."

Silence. For a moment, there was silence, then Butler asked baffled, "He TOLD you? What the devil…"

"Alex, that's the next problem. General Burkhalter got into a big argument with Himmler concerning his plan of 'evacuating' the camps. He fell from grace afterwards and is on the run now. He came to camp and told me about this insanity that will cost hundreds of lives if we don't do anything."

"And you believe him?" Alex sounded confused. "What if this is a trap?"

Robert's gaze was still fixed on the German staff officer. "No, it's not a trap. I believe him. If the SS or Gestapo finds him, he's dead. At first, he wanted to strike a deal with me – his freedom against his knowledge – but after he learned what really happened in Auschwitz, Dachau, and several other concentration camps, he supported us without demanding anything in return."

Butler groaned, and Hogan imagined him sitting in front of a field table and rubbing his forehead, headset on. "Robert, there are approximately 150 km between us and Stalag 13. If this whole insanity starts within the next few days, I cannot promise that we'll make it in time. We only made small progress until now that finally speeded up after we crossed the Rhine River, but…I fear that Washington and London are going to deny my request to send a whole troop to your rescue. Most forces are ordered to reach Bavaria and Berchtesgaden to get Hitler – and Berchtesgaden is in the southeast of Bavaria, so…"

"Hitler isn't in Berchtesgaden. He's in Berlin," Burkhalter cut in, voice a little bit louder so that his voice could be caught by the microphone.

"Robert, who's speaking there?" Alex asked warily.

Hogan shot Albert a glare. "That was General Burkhalter. He's down here in the tunnels he found half an hour ago by accident. So…"

"He's in the tunnels?" Butler sounded a bit more alarmed now.

"Yes, he is. He came here in the hopes that I'm indeed Papa Bear, stumbled over one of the entrances, and here we are – negotiating with him and you, as it seems."

Alex murmured something no one could understand before he ordered, "I want to speak with him."

Hogan grimaced, but waved Burkhalter over, who stepped beside him and bent over the radio's microphone. "Albert Burkhalter, former General of the Heer, at your service, General." He introduced himself to his American counterpart.

"General Alexander Butler, US Army," the other man answered. "General Burkhalter, from officer to officer, do you swear that this information you gave Colonel Hogan is true?"

Albert made a sour face that the American doubted his word, but he could understand him. If he would be in his place, he would demand the same. "Yes, I swear. Everything I told Hogan about the new order is true." He bent down and braced his hands on the table surface. "And concerning the Führer: He's in Berlin; not in Berchtesgaden."

"That's…more than interesting. We thought him to be in Berchtesgaden at his 'home' Berghof on the mountain Obersalzberg. We learned that his 'house' is like a castle and safer than Berlin."

Butler didn't exaggerate. The 'Berghof' was comparable with a fortress with its secret tunnels, escape routes, and defense weaponry, even if it looked like a large, traditional Bavarian cottage with many terraces, lounges, sleeping rooms, and salles. Hitler would be safer there than in the capital that was technically under bombardment day by day. That he had decided not to search shelter in his 'fortress' was something that would change the Allies' whole plan. And would give Butler the reason to come to Hogan's rescue.

"This is…valuable intelligence knowledge you just gave me, General." His voice sounded slowly through the speaker, and Burkhalter grimaced.

"Don't get me wrong, General Butler. I was always loyal to Germany, and this all here is anything but easy for me. But…regarding what my government has ordered and done within the last few weeks, and after everything I learned from Colonel Hogan concerning those…concentration camps, I can't stay true to the Führer anymore. I certainly have done things you and your colleagues will justify, but I kept some humanity – at least I hope I did – and if this increasing insanity won't be stopped, then Satan has won. And this would be a guilt I don't want to carry on my shoulders."

It was plain to see how much it costed Burkhalter to say those words. His whole world had been shaken before, now it was utterly shattered. He had followed a phantom path, had believed in a truth that didn't exist, and had fought not for a better world someday, but for Hell taking roots on Earth. Hogan knew that he was good in reading people, and when he looked at Burkhalter now, he saw a devasted, but determined man who tried to turn the wheel even when the ship was already sinking – trying to save what was left to save.

For another moment, there was a short silence on the radio, then Alex answered, "I believe you. And this changes a lot."

Hogan took the microphone in his hand. "What are you going to do, Alex?" he asked, tensed.

"I'll contact London and Washington and try to use the new information to get some troops summoned as the cavalry for you. I can't promise anything, but I'll contact you as soon as I get my plan to work."

"You know that we're running out of time soon?"

"Yes, I know, son – and that scares the hell out of me." He sighed, and his voice got more private. "Robert, this all can be a close-call to you and the others. As much as I want to take the next tank and head to Hammelburg, I cannot do this on my own. We need to make a big strike towards the northeast, detouring into your direction. I'm ready to take this on my head, but we have only one attempt to get you and your boys out, and therefore the plan has to be safe.

"I understand," Hogan answered softly. "Just…hurry up, okay?"

"You can bet your last shirt on it, Robert. Try to stay safe, will you?" Real concern sounded in his voice, and the younger man had to smile.

"The same goes for you," he replied gently. "Over and out." He closed the frequency and rubbed his neck. He felt Burkhalter's eyes resting on him, and he turned his head to look at the Austrian.

"You and General Butler – you're close," Albert observed. "Are you related?"

"Not by blood. He and my dad are close friends – and Alex…Well, let me put it like this. I was a rather wild teenager. Alex prevented me from drifting away, offered me a place in the Army, he became my mentor and…Well, here I am." He shrugged as he saw the mixture of bafflement and amusement in Burkhalter's gaze.

"Just like I stated before, Hogan; don't talk in the past tense about you when you're speaking of yourself being 'wild' during your youth. You still are perfectly masked as an oversized boy with a hell of a clever mind." He shook his head. "No wonder that we never caught you."

Hogan grinned. "You and Hochstetter were this close a few times." His index finger and thumb of his right hand were an inch apart.

"Close enough, yes; but we never got you," Albert sighed.

"Rob, what now?" Klink asked from behind and stepped towards his beloved and his (former) superior.

Hogan grimaced again. "Now we prepare everything for General Burkhalter's 'death' – and then we wait what Alex will manage to do."

*** HH *** HH ***

Schmidt got the reports from the outposts, which had risen road blocks. Nowhere the staff car had been seen – to Horst's relief. Yet his instincts told him that Burkhalter hadn't run off to the north and already crossed the border to Denmark or tried to reach Baden Württemberg and there the Bodensee, where he could flee to Switzerland. The US troops were too close to this area. No, Schmidt was certain that the general had chosen another escape route – that he tried to reach Austria, and from there he could drive to Switzerland.

Schmidt took a very deep breath, feeling irritated and helpless at the thought that the man he owed his life to was now being hunted down. Whatever Burkhalter had done to piss off Himmler, he had done it formatively.

And Schmidt felt the insane wish to help the general. Not only because Burkhalter saved his life not long ago, but because he had come to respect and like him. Burkhalter wasn't the born fighter – not in the common sense of the word. He rather avoided a battle, but if he was forced into combat, he could become a lion. He had proven that a few times now.

And what was even more important for Horst, the general had kept his humanity. Schmidt had seen how much Burkhalter worried after Klink was almost fatally wounded. The general had sent a train to pick up Connor and the others, saving a dozen lives and more. He defended the Geneva Conventions, and even his everlasting disagreements with Hogan were mostly done in a certain form of respect.

Hogan…An idea rose in Schmidt. An idea where Burkhalter could have fled to. 'All the accusations against Hogan Hochstetter voiced again and again, all the inexplicable incidents which happened in and around Stalag 13…They certainly gave Burkhalter second thoughts within the last few months. What if he is desperate enough to stake everything on one card and seek out Hogan to get help from him, hoping that the colonel is indeed Papa Bear?' He turned towards the window. 'How big is his chance to reach Germany's border without getting caught? Very small, despite the fact not all street posts are informed he is a wanted man. As soon as they learn about it and he already passed by, they can tell the Gestapo where he went. He's as good as dead if he stays in the open.'

He looked out into the street. Even if Burkhalter didn't dare to confront Hogan, the possibility that he was nonetheless here was high. He wouldn't be able to make such a long trip without a break, even if the regime's bloodhounds were breathing down his neck. He needed a place to stay for a night or two, and there was only one place he could go to. A place where someone he trusted was despite the never-ending grousing about said man: Oberst Klink in Stalag 13.

Schmidt pursed his lips. If Burkhalter really was at Stalag 13, then he was also in danger the moment he left camp. He would be caught within a short range of time, and then the questioning would begin, which would lead the Gestapo to Stalag 13 and to Klink.

You could turn the whole situation from the left to the right and back again. If Burkhalter was here, then everyone was in danger with him. There would be only one way to prevent a catastrophe: To convince the general to stay where he was and hide.

Determined, Horst went to the dresser to get his coat and cap. Slipping into his clothes, he took the little package with chocolate he got for an unholy sum in a shop that shouldn't exist, but he wanted to give Hilda a little present for Easter – black market be dammed.

Ordering his ordonnance to keep him updated via car radio, he left the building a minute later, knowing well that he would become a full traitor should he indeed find Burkhalter in Stalag 13 and not arrest him. But it would keep them all safe.

*** HH *** HH ***

Friedhelm Buchholz was relieved, yes, but also flabbergasted as he parked the car in front of the Kommandantur and waited for the 'general' to appear. Burkhalter had spoken with him before he went inside of the building and told him in a hushed voice what happened and of what he, Friedhelm, was ought to do.

So, the American colonel was indeed this super spy and saboteur half of Germany's forces were after. In a certain way, the man was ready to help Burkhalter. Buchholz didn't like the idea that the general would surrender to the Allies when they came; on the other hand, he would be far safer in an American prison than on the run square through Germany and Austria. Yet Friedhelm had voiced his concern about the general's future fate, which had brought a real smile on the staff officer's face before he explained that Hogan and his men, including the major colonel, would put in a good word for him. And that Hogan was a kind of 'chosen son' of one of the most important generals of the US was a little bonus none of them had expected.

Buchholz came out of his thoughts as the door to the Kommandantur opened, and the bulky figure of Burkhalter came down the stairs, Klink behind him babbling and smiling goofily.

"I just have to repeat myself how nice it was of you to stop by for some Easter greetings, my dear general. I always knew that we were friends."

The general only nodded, pulled his cap deeper into his face, and waited for Klink to open the door to the back seat, on which he slipped. "I expect your report when I'm back in Berlin – and thank you for the provisions." He spoke in plain German and even his voice sounded a little bit like Burkhalter's. Friedhelm was impressed. He knew that it was in truth this English friend of the American colonel. He really gave a good show, no doubt here.

"Of course, my dear general. We can't let you starve, now could we? After all, this fat belly has to be fed. I…I mean, of course you need more food with all the big thinking you have to do," Klink laughed nervously and closed the door. "Have a nice trip back to Berlin – and greetings to the Führer." He gave the official salute with the outstretched, lifted right arm and clicked his heels together.

Newkirk did his best to imitate Burkhalter's voice as he returned the official greeting, then Buchholz started the car and steered it towards the gates. Without any problems, they passed through it and drove the small street up to the main road.

"Where to now?" Friedhelm asked, in broken English, and he caught the man's smile in the driving mirror. It was strange – almost a shock – to see the familiar uniform and the large figure, but with the wrong face.

"To the right. Let's get some distance to the camp before the fireworks start," Newkirk answered. "The Gestapo'll think that Burkhalter was heading to the south." He pushed the cap back into his neck. "The spare clothes and dynamite are in the trunk?"

Buchholz nodded, gulping. "Yes, they are. And to tell you the truth, I don't like having eight sticks of dynamite in the car."

Newkirk grinned broadly. "You get used to it – at least when one of your friends is a firebug." He leaned back in the seat.

Like this, they drove two or three kilometers until they saw a hindrance on the road in the distance. Buchholz instantly stopped the car and drove backwards, hoping that the black clad man hadn't spotted them. "A road barricade – and the SS," he said softly.

Newkirk nodded grimly, then he pursed his lips as an idea struck him. "Buchholz, how quick can you be in slipping out of your coat?"

"Very quick, why?" Friedhelm asked, confused.

"Because those guys over there will be the unmistakable witnesses for 'General Burkhalter's' demise." He slipped out of the car. "Trust me!"

*** HH ***

Untergruppenführer (corporal) Eichmann was checking the reports he had written within the last two hours. Five cars had passed, but none of them was the searched one. Yet, he had taken notes about the car's ID, the passengers' names, and the time they drove down the road. He sighed. In person, he didn't think that the wanted general would come this way of all others, but…

"Sir, a car is nearing – a staff car of the Wehrmacht," one of the other men called, and he turned around. First frowning, then with rising brows he watched the car pulling nearer until it stopped in front of the risen barricade. The driver winded down the car's window and looked out.

"Is something the matter, Untergruppenführer?" he addressed Eichmann politely.

The SS-man stopped beside him. "Sorry for interrupting your journey, but we're on the search for an escaped prisoner," he lied, looking beneath his lashes towards the person in the back seat. A fat man in the uniform of a Heer general. Should he, Eichmann, really be this lucky to catch the traitor? Then the next step up the career ladder was a certain thing for him.

The driver scowled at him. "And why do you stop us then? Do you think General Burkhalter has the prisoner hidden beneath his seat, or what?"

Eichmann stared at him, but before he could reply something, the figure in the backseat screamed, "Fahr los, Mann, schnell!" (Get a move on, hurry!)

Buchholz kicked the gas pedal, and the car shot forwards – hurling the wooden barricade away from the street. The SS-men hopped aside to avoid the vehicle, cursing and shouting orders to each other.

Newkirk looked back through the window and lay down on the back seat as he heard the first shots ringing out. "Speed up, Buchholz, or we're history!" he shouted.

The car raced down the road. It was essential that they got a head start of half a minute or more to go through with their plan. The SS-men would need some time to mount their bikes and get their car to follow them, and this period of grace was all they had.

As they passed a small path to the right, Friedhelm steered the car into it and brought it to a halt ten meters away. He and Newkirk all but shot out of it, already stripping out of their coats and caps. Throwing them into the car, Friedhelm got the bundle with clothes that had been placed into the footwell of the passenger seat, while Newkirk got the dynamite ready by setting one of the fuses aflame.

From afar, they heard the motors roaring of the bikes and the car. Not hesitating a second, they began to push the car towards a tree trunk, ignoring their screaming muscles and protesting legs as they had to move the heavy vehicle. Newkirk threw the lit dynamite stick through the open window of the passenger seat and ran to the bushes, Buchholz on his heels. Branches ripped at them as they all but dived into the undergrowth and tried to get as much distance between them and the car as fast as possible.

Behind them they heard the bikes coming to a stop, shouts rang out, and then the explosion shook through the air, followed by a second and a third one that was the biggest of them. The two unusual allies felt the shock wave in their backs, and Newkirk pushed the younger man to the ground, seeking shelter beside him, too. His ears rang, and his heart seemed to gallop ten miles per hour as he waited for what would come next.

For more than a minute, nothing happened, then he listened closely to the curses and confused voices. Then another shout was heard, followed by a mix of curses and words of satisfaction.

"The whole car is burning, and one of them found a part of the general's coat that was blown away," Buchholz whispered beside Newkirk. "They think he's dead."

Peter turned his head towards the young German and began to grin. "Mission fulfilled."

*** HH *** HH ***

Schmidt reached Stalag 13 five minutes prior to Newkirk's change of plan, entered the camp without problems, and stopped his car in front of the Kommandantur. Leaving the vehicle, he thought to see Klink's lean figure at the office's window, but the shadow vanished quickly.

Climbing up the three wooden steps, Horst entered the building and headed to the open office door, where he heard some noises. Knocking on the door frame, he saw Hogan bending over a chess board and obviously picking up some of the pawns from the floor, while Klink leaned against a commode and filled a cup with tea.

"Schmidt?!" The Oberst exclaimed as he turned towards the man, before he added, "This is a nice surprise. Stopping by to bring us some Easter eggs?"

Schmidt chuckled as he looked at the two faces and stepped into the office. "Good day, gentlemen. Sorry, no Easter eggs. It was hard enough to get some chocolate for Hilda."

Hogan smiled and completed the chess board. "Sparing no efforts and money to woe her, don't you?" He pulled the younger man's leg good naturedly and accepted the offered tea from Klink.

"I think you know best how it is to be in love," Schmidt replied wryly, giving the two lovebirds a smirk. Then he turned serious again. "I'm sorry, but this is no social visit."

"Of course," Will sighed. "When the SS shows up, there is always something in the bush."

Robert frowned. "In the bush?" he repeated confused.

"Yes, something is up and lurks somewhere – in the bush," Klink explained.

"Ah, you mean something's cooking," Hogan translated the saying correctly, and Wilhelm shrugged.

"Whatever."

Schmidt smiled as he heard the typical, friendly bantering, then he took one of the visitor chairs Klink offered him. "I'm here because of something unpleasant – and it concerns you indirectly, too," he said to the Kommandant, who began to frown.

"What have I done?" he asked warily, while Robert crossed his arms in front of his chest. He had a certain assumption for the reason of Schmidt's visit – a reason that had all but run to the backroom the moment Will had seen the SS-staff car arriving. He should be right.

"You've done nothing – except for the fact that you had a superior until now, who fell from grace."

Klink stared at him like an owl, while Hogan pursed his lips. Yes, Schmidt was on their side. The only question was would he stand by to Burkhalter, too? Would he cover for the general, or would he deliver him to Berlin? Okay, Robert couldn't imagine that the Oberleutnant would do something like that – after all, he owed Burkhalter his life – but at the given times, you could never be certain.

"General Burkhalter…fell from grace?" Klink gasped, acting surprised.

"Yes, I got a telegram from Berlin this morning – obviously a kind of circular note that was sent with the same text to all Gestapo Headquarters. General Burkhalter fell from grace and is wanted dead or alive. The latter is preferred, but if there is no chance to arrest him, the order is to shoot him."

Klink and Hogan exchanged a glance with each other, and it was the colonel who rose to speak first. "You're in a shitty position – seeing the fact that you owe the general your life."

Horst threw his hands up. "I know. Believe me, I feel like I'm being pushed towards an abyss. I was forced to give orders for raising road barricades, but the truth is I hope that he somehow escapes – that he reaches Germany's border and escapes. I don't want to arrest him – not after all he did for me."

"You know that this makes you…"

Klink didn't need to finish the sentence, as Schmidt groaned, "I know that this makes me a traitor – among the fact that I know about you, Hogan, and your alliance with the Herr Oberst and do nothing against it." He rose and began to pace. "I became a traitor the moment I didn't reveal you to the authorities, and that I made some calls to warn you here and there belongs to the whole package, too." He stopped. "Concerning the general, I…I hoped that he made it to the camp – and that you can smuggle him away, Colonel." He took a deep breath. "I know that he's wanted by London, but…he's not a bad man. He kept his heart in a certain way, and…and I've come to like him. He helped you too, you know." He spread his arms. "If he somehow reaches Stalag 13 – and I think he will try this, because he has nowhere else to go – then we have to find a way to help him. I don't want him to get killed or delivered to these madca…" He stopped in the middle of the word and his eyes almost popped out of his head, while his jaw went towards the floor.

Of course the two older men knew exactly what happened, and with a grimace, Hogan turned around to an astonished General Burkhalter, who stood on the threshold to the next room, clad in not so well fitting civil clothes.

"Don't…don't tell me that you know about this crazy guy being Papa Bear," Albert managed to say, big eyes fixed on Schmidt, index finger pointing at Hogan.

"You…you know it, too?" Horst gasped.

"I assumed it and got it proven an hour ago after I stumbled over one of the secret entrances – in Klink's quarters, no less." Burkhalter clasped his hands on his back while making a face. "So, you belong to this crazy bunch of spies, too."

Schmidt shrugged helplessly, feeling red-handed. "Well…in a certain way, yes, but…" He took a deep breath. "How shall I explain it? I got proof that one or two of the colonel's men had used the seized radio transmitter during the failed test of the mobile rocket launchers, and…confronted the colonel. This was after Oberst Klink got injured and the whole mess afterwards. The colonel was so devasted and…and after all the craziness that increased in Germany day by day – especially concerning our executive forces and the civilians – I realized that Hitler has to be stopped to save our people. And Colonel Hogan did a good job so far, so…"

He stopped, rubbing the back of his head. Burkhalter grimaced and glared at the American officer, who smiled innocently at him. "Stop trying to look like an angel, Hogan. The horns and the tail with the pointy end are plainly imaginable, together with the devil's hooves."

"And this says the man I just saved," Robert sighed dramatically. "The world is unfair."

"Tell me something new," Albert grumbled.

Then everyone became quiet as heavy steps entered the building, and Burkhalter was about to flee back into the backroom, as Schultz entered. "Herr Oberleutnant," he addressed Schmidt. "A good day to you."

"The same for you, Sergeant," Schmidt answered. "How can I help you?"

"Well, the radio in your car has been blaring for quite some time now. As it seems, your HQ is trying to reach you and…"

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Horst said, and hurried outside, Schultz following him after an amused gaze at Burkhalter. The general looked so foreign in civilian clothes.

The two men had barely left as Albert turned towards Klink. "Pray to tell me who else is involved in his gang?" Again, he pointed nonchalantly at Hogan.

Wilhelm gave him an almost sunny smile. "You would be surprised, General," he replied wryly.

"Yes, I would think so." Burkhalter nodded. For a long moment, they all were silent, then Schmidt returned. His eyes found Hogan's.

"Colonel, can you explain to me how it is possible that a patrol of my men just found the wanted general, chased him down the road towards the south, when he and his driver had an accident and the car burst into flames?" He glanced at Burkhalter. "Do you have a twin?"

"No, but Newkirk always wanted to play a German general, so I granted him his wish," Robert joked, before being serious. "You said the car exploded in front of your men's eyes?"

"Untersturmbandführer Eichmann said they followed the general's staff car that left the main road. As they reached it, it exploded. They found a part of the general's coat half turned into ashes."

Klink looked at his lover. "Do you fear something happened to Newkirk?"

"I hope he's okay, and…"

The telephone at Klink's desk rang, and picking up the receiver, the Kommandant replied, "Oberst Klink here…Newkirk!" He lifted a triumphal thumb towards a relieved Hogan, listened, and said finally, "Well done, Corporal. You and Herr Buchholz should grant yourself some rest – and some of the wine Colonel Hogan stocked in the tunnels." He gave his protesting beloved a wicked grin, before he answered with, "Of course Colonel Hogan agrees. It's Easter, after all. And if you could bring two more bottles to my quarters, we would all highly appreciate it." He placed the receiver back on the phone and chuckled as he saw Robert's sour face.

"You're ruining me, Will," Hogan complained.

"Just like you ruined me, darling," he replied very unctuously. And he had to laugh, as Hogan flipped him a bird, and Burkhalter began to cough.

TBC…

Well, another short mission was won – and Burkhalter has now a real chance to get out of all intact, even if he will be arrested by the Allies.

I'm sure, you all know now to where this story part will lead: To the camp's liberation. I know that in real history there was first an attempt to liberate Stalag 13, a mission that was called "Task Force Baum" and was ordered by General Patten, because his son-in-law was held captive in the camp for a few weeks. The attempt failed, the young man was injured and the camp was more or less evacuated except for ill and injured prisoners – one day before the next try was successful, at the 6th April.

For once I don't stick too much to the history and ignore the first, failed attempt.

General Butler is coming to Hogan's rescue, but I'm going to use the real dates and the whole real background 'til the 'cavalry' reaches the camp. Hammelburg was conquered during the same mission and the whole true events are already crazy enough, so I'm going to stick to this part of German history, too (with a few additions, you know – 'grin').

The next chapters will be about this all, so I don't give any more details.

I hope, you liked the new chapter, and – like always – I'm curious what you think of it.

Have a nice rest of the week,

Love

Yours Starflight