"It's not that I don't believe you, mate, it's just that I don't believe you," Newkirk said as he, Carter and LeBeau filed out of the Colonel's office and into the common room.
"I am telling you the truth!" LeBeau insisted. "He was eight feet tall and at least five hundred pounds!"
"And did he say fee-fi-fo-fum too?" Newkirk asked.
"Better be careful, Newkirk, a giant like that can smell the blood of an Englishman!" Carter said with a little laugh.
"What's going on?" Goldman asked from his bunk.
Newkirk jerked his thumb towards LeBeau. "LeBeau here thinks the new guard is an ogre."
From his place at the table where he was playing cards, Olsen cocked his head to the side. "Is that what you were looking at outside?" LeBeau nodded. "I don't know Newkirk- LeBeau was pretty shook up."
Newkirk snorted. "Well, I'm not about to lose any sleep over it. If he is a beast, the Colonel will have him out on his ear and off to the Russian Front within in a week."
"And if not," Carter added, "he's only going to be here temporarily anyway."
"A lot can happen between then and now," LeBeau grumbled.
"What? He's going to grind our bones to make his bread?" Newkirk asked, somewhat amused. Honestly, LeBeau was making a big deal out of nothing.
"Can't be any worse than the sawdust we use to make ours," Olsen said with a lopsided grin. Newkirk matched his grin with one of his own and sat across from him. "Poker?" Olsen asked as he scooped up his cards and began shuffling them.
"All right. Andrew, you in?"
Carter looked between Newkirk and Olsen and quickly shook his head. Then he grinned mischievously. "How about gin?"
Newkirk and Olsen exchanged a look. For some reason that Newkirk couldn't quite wrap his head around, Carter was an absolute shark when it came to gin. Any other game and he was a ruddy, hopeless git.
"You're not scared, are you?" Carter teased good-naturedly.
Olsen scoffed. "Sit down!"
Carter obediently sat next to Newkirk who eyed him warily but finally nodded. "Right, but be warned- I've got myself a new strategy this time. I'll beat you for sure."
Carter just grinned. "So does that mean you'll place a bet?"
"Not on your life, mate!" Newkirk exclaimed.
As Olsen dealt, Newkirk cast a glance at LeBeau, who was lying in his bunk, arms folded across his chest, fuming. Well, he could stew all he wanted- Newkirk wasn't about to buy into his description of the new guard until he saw for himself.
The truth was Newkirk wasn't ready for another crisis. He had been enjoying the bit of downtime they had had over the last few days. Running an intelligence and sabotage operation right under Jerry's nose was a dangerous occupation. Newkirk had lost count of how many close calls he had had. Death had come a-knocking more than once, and they had only been at it full-time about four months. Thankfully they had managed to avoid serious injury, but their luck had to run out eventually.
With all that being said, he wasn't about to panic over something as simple as a new guard- no matter how big he was. The colonel would fix him. It wouldn't be the first time. Newkirk remembered when the colonel had first arrived. There had been more than one nasty guard. But within a month, they had disappeared- sent off to London, another prison camp, or more often, the Russian Front. Besides, the doctors in Klink's office had already said that Weiss' stay would be temporary. How much trouble could he cause before he left?
"All right, Carter," Newkirk said after he scooped up his cards and began arranging them, "I'll try to go easy on you."
"Sure, Newkirk," he said as he tossed a card. Newkirk frowned. Not at all the card he needed. "Maybe you and Olsen can team up. Make it a fair fight."
"You know, I always thought you were such a nice guy, Carter," Olsen accused.
Carter looked shocked. "Well, gosh, I am. But that doesn't mean I have to let you win at cards, does it?"
"Would be a nice start," Newkirk groused.
"Eh, don't listen to them, Carter. They're just poor sports," Goldman called from his perch above them.
They were on to their second game- the first had ended too quickly with Olsen and Newkirk as the unsurprising losers- when the colonel finally came back into the barracks.
Shutting the door behind him, Hogan fell back against the door jamb. Taking off his cap, he ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. From the table, Carter looked up from his hand, and absently threw down a card. "Everything all right, Colonel?"
From the corner of his eye, Newkirk saw LeBeau watching them intensely, as if waiting for the Colonel to redeem him. "LeBeau was right," Hogan said, earning a satisfied nod from LeBeau. "The man is a tank!"
"Cor, is he that bad?" He would have to be for the Colonel to look so rattled. Hogan motioned for them to join him. Newkirk threw his cards down- a bad hand anyway- and went with the others to the door. Hogan slowly opened it and the men crowded around.
"He should be coming out soon enough," the colonel said.
And he did. Newkirk's eye grew wide as he saw the great behemoth step out of the kommandantur and onto the steps. It was a wonder they didn't snap like kindling under him. "Blimey!" Newkirk exclaimed. "That's him?" LeBeau had exaggerated, but not by much. If that goon really did say fee-fi-fo-fum, Newkirk was going to get his Englishman hide right out of there.
"What the hell?" Olsen gaped. "There's no way this guy is real!"
"Looks like he's full of steroids," Carter mused. The others looked over to him, confused.
"What's that mate?" Newkirk asked.
"Steroids. Maybe… oh what's it called?" Carter screwed up his face as he tried to remember. "Testosterone? Read about it a while back, before the war. Some Kraut was offered the Nobel Prize in chemistry for it, but Hitler made him turn it down. Supposed to help increase body weight. Can add a lot of muscle real fast with exercise. Pretty new. The Nazis must be experimenting with it."
"That pharmacy book is really paying off, Carter," Hogan said as they watched Weiss who was looking about the compound. Finally the giant left the step, but didn't seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere though he did seem to be heading towards to guards' quarters. Tucked under his arm was a big stack of files. If he had to guess, Newkirk would say they were their personnel files.
"Boy, if he's not careful, he's going to fall right through into one of the tunnels," Carter said.
Suddenly, Weiss stopped dead in his tracks and looked right at them. Newkirk's heart leapt into his throat. Had Weiss heard Carter? But that was impossible. He was too far away to hear them- even Carter. But there was no doubt that the big guard was looking at them intently. Maybe it was because the door was open, and they were supposed to be inside.
Hogan, of course, met Weiss' look with one of his own, as if daring him to come closer. Newkirk couldn't help but think that that was a dumb thing to do.
"Do you… think he heard me?" Carter practically squeaked.
Suddenly, the trap door to the tunnel opened with a clatter and Kinch climbed out over the side of his bunk. The group of men looked over in alarm, then back to Weiss who, impossibly, seemed to have heard the noise as well and was heading over.
Kinch paused, and quirked an eyebrow before quickly realizing something was wrong. He closed the tunnel entrance and slipped onto the bench at the table, grabbing the deck of cards and looking for all the world like he was innocent.
A moment later, Weiss was at the barracks. With his mighty arm, he swept all the men gathered at the entrance to the side. The men fell into each other and nearly toppled to the floor. Weiss didn't notice or care, and stepped in, looking around with keen eyes.
"Nice to see you again, Corporal Weiss," Colonel Hogan said as he brushed himself off and untangled himself from the others. "What can we do for you?"
Weiss stomped his foot, then moved further into the barracks and stomped again.
"Looking for a dance partner?" Hogan quipped. Weiss turned a dangerous eye to him, and Newkirk felt a shiver run up his spine. But there was a reason Hogan was their leader- the colonel showed no signs of backing down.
"This is your hut, Colonel Hogan?" Weiss asked curtly.
"Sure is," Hogan replied, rocking slightly on his heels. "Not exactly the Ritz, but it keeps the rain off my head."
Weiss ignored the smart remark. "And you share it with," he motioned to Kinch, "this?"
Newkirk's hackles went up, and he balled a fist. He didn't care if this goon could stomp him into the ground, he was going to show him exactly what he thought of him.
But, again, there was a reason Hogan was a colonel and he wasn't. Though he tensed, the colonel kept relatively cool. "Is there a problem, Corporal?"
Weiss just sniffed and headed back for the door. "I will see you again, Colonel Hogan. Soon." He left, slamming the door closed behind him.
"Well he's a bloody-"
Hogan held up his hand, cutting Newkirk off. Carefully, he cracked the door open and watched for a few minutes. Then, he let out a sigh.
"I think it's safe to say I don't like that guy," Colonel Hogan whispered. "Carter, can that steroid stuff give someone super hearing?"
"I don't think so, Colonel."
"You do not think he actually heard Carter, do you, Colonel?" LeBeau asked, also in a whisper.
Hogan frowned. "I don't know. Maybe he just saw us in the door." He sounded uneasy and unsure.
"Does someone want to explain to me what's going on," Kinch asked, a slight edge to his lowered voice.
"That was our new guard," Hogan replied.
"Charming," Newkirk said sourly. "How are we going to get rid of him?"
"I'm not sure we want to yet," Hogan said thoughtfully.
"What do you mean, Colonel?" Kinch asked.
"I mean, if he is some sort of Nazi guinea pig, we're going to want to find out what we can about him. Then we can get rid of him."
Perfect. That meant the ogre would be sticking around for a while. Maybe a bit of panic wasn't uncalled for after all.