Chapter 4:
After roll call the following morning, Kinch got down into the tunnels and stood by the radio on standby. General Berkman had messaged him late last night saying he would have something for him sometime today. And while he manned the radio, the boys were outside playing a game of baseball, Hogan was walking around the compound with Schultz, who was complaining to him about recent trouble with his wife, and little Kalina danced around inside barracks two to one of her records.
As she continued to dance and occasionally sing along with the lyrics, she briefly failed to notice Carter wander inside. His ears perked up at the song currently playing and couldn't stop himself from bopping his head around to the melody. "Hey Kalina," he began. "What are you listening to there? Kinda catchy."
"My favorite singer: Peter Annen," Kalina answered, grinning from ear to ear.
"Mind if I join?" Carter asked.
Kalina smiled wider and gestured for her friend to come over. Soon the two were doing jazz squares, spinning around, and moving as if they were shaking maracas while singing along every now and then. They were halfway through the song when Newkirk and LeBeau entered inside and momentarily stood there with a stunned look plastered onto their faces.
"What are you doing?" Newkirk asked, slowly coming out of shock.
"Dancing, come join us," Carter answered, with a wave of his hand.
The two corporals turned to face one another, looked back at their friends, then shrugged their shoulders and joined the fun. Barracks two was immediately filled with music and four voices singing in German as they danced around, letting the reality of being at war temporarily slip away from their minds. No war existed at that moment. Just a bunch of friends enjoying a catchy tune and dancing like no tomorrow.
The group of four were reaching the end of the song when the fake bunk opened. Kinch crawled up from underneath the ground, closed the tunnel entrance, then approached the playing record and lifted the needle to abruptly end the song. He earned a bunch of groans and complaints about ruining their big finale, when he interrupted them with a distraught look drawn on his face. "You're not gonna wanna dance when I tell you this."
The sunny aura that had once filled the barracks immediately evaporated from the firm tone in Kinch's voice, and everyone soon felt a sharp chill run up and down their spines as they waited in apprehension.
"What?" Newkirk asked.
"Did General Berkman message you back?" Carter prodded.
"What did he say?"
Kinch let out a heavy breath of air to try and calm his rattled nerves. He regained composure and continued. "That call came from somewhere in this area."
"WHAT?!" Everyone exclaimed.
"Berkman was able to locate the radio's signal and discovered it was somewhere near this camp. Looked like it was in the middle of nowhere, but he couldn't get an exact location." Kinch explained.
"You mean this batty bloke could wander into this camp at any moment and pop off the Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked, his voice rising in volume as anxiety gripped onto him like a thick blanket.
"We don't even know what this guy looks like!" LeBeau cried.
"Yeah, he could just mosey on in here dressed as a Gestapo Kraut or something and murder the Colonel before we even get a chance to blink." Carter added.
"What do we do?" Kalina asked, her voice shaking with fear.
"What Berkman ordered us to do; make sure the Colonel doesn't leave this camp for even a minute alone. He is to not go out on any assignments outside the wire until further notice. He doesn't care if it even comes from Otto, he fears it could be some big trap set up by whoever's after Colonel Hogan," Kinch said, trying to bring everyone's adrenaline levels back down.
"And how the bloody hell are we supposed to do that without setting Colonel off? We try and stop him from going out on an assignment, and he'll really demand an explanation," Newkirk remarked.
"I've got one idea," Kinch said, crossing his arms. "But I'm not fond of it."
"What is it, mon ami?" LeBeau asked.
"We lie."
"Lie?" Kalina gasped. "You want us to lie to Colonel Hogan?"
"It's the only way to keep him out of this messy situation we're in." Kinch explained.
"But, but...I can't lie."
"Sure you can," Newkirk said. "Every teenager I've ever known is able to."
"I can't lie to Colonel Hogan. I love him too much." Kalina persisted, in a meek tone.
"Then we will not consider it lying. Consider it as confidentialité," LeBeau said, trying to ease the small teenager's nerves.
"Are you guys sure this is a good idea? We all know how much Colonel Hogan hates lying," Carter stated, his feelings of just wanting to spit everything out to Hogan returning at full force. He was in the same boat as Kalina was in, but for the little Klink it was ten times that amount. She had never gone behind Hogan's back since she screwed up her first assignment on his team, and it had become a crippling fear of hers ever since. Lying to Hogan would bring on as much guilt as it would if she were to kill someone on accident.
"We're not talking white lies anymore, Andrew; we're talking about Colonel's life," Newkirk said.
"Exactly," Kinch replied. "The less Colonel Hogan knows about this assassination order, the safer he is from this nut we're dealing with."
"That just leaves us with one question," LeBeau said. "How do we find out who Monsieur Fou is?" (1)
As Kinch opened his mouth to say something, the barracks door opened, and an ecstatic Olsen stuck his head inside. "Guys! You gotta come check this out. Sergeant Mackey can twist his arm backwards!" He cried.
"What?" Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau exclaimed in unison.
"Now this I gotta see," Newkirk said.
The trio followed Olsen out of barracks two, leaving Carter and Kalina to themselves. Both turned to one another with the same uncertain look in their eyes, though Kalina's held a touch of anxiety along with it. She swallowed a growing knot in her throat, while Carter awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort.
"I don't wanna lie to Colonel Hogan," Kalina said meekly.
"I don't wanna see Mackey twist his arm backwards." The young sergeant replied.
The little Klink briefly imagined the trick inside her mind and immediately shuddered in horror. It was at that moment she did not know which she feared more: lying to Colonel Hogan and hurting his feelings, or the fact that someone was actually capable of twisting a part of their body in the opposite direction.
Hogan wandered into Klink's office exhausted and worn. His bones ached, his feet hurt, and he felt like 78 instead of 38. He had just spent the last hour and a half listening to Schultz complain about how his wife never lets him do anything he wants. That ever since he got married he had never been able to do the things he planned or dreamed of. He could not even go to a bar without asking her for permission. This time it had been Schultz wanting a cat for a pet, and his wife had immediately turned down the idea. Even after many attempts of persuasion she still refused to let him get a cat. Now the fluffy sergeant wanted to protest by not going home for her birthday next month. With that on top with his men and Kalina keeping some huge secret from him, his brain was swimming, and he could feel a headache coming on at full force.
He plopped into the chair across from Klink's desk with a groan and let out a sigh of relief as he began to relax. He placed his hands on his belly and looked up at the kommandant, who was working on a gigantic pile of papers, with tired eyes. "Kommandant, I need a drink," Hogan finally said.
"That makes two of us," Klink answered, setting his pen down and rising to his feet. "General Burkhalter wants me to finish this stupid account ledger by the end of the week. I've added and subtracted for over three hours now, and I still keep coming up short." He walked over to the little wooden cupboard in the back of his office, pulled out two glasses, and filled them with brandy. Klink made his way back to Hogan and handed him a glass, getting a genuine 'thank you' in return. Hogan took a large gulp of his brandy as Klink continued. "I could give that man all the money in the world, and I still wouldn't be able to do anything right to him."
"Don't you start," Hogan answered. "I just spent the last hour and a half listening to the same thing from Schultz regarding his wife. My headache's growing just thinking about it."
"And the more I think about General Burkhalter, the more mine does," Klink said, as Hogan took another drink of his beverage. The kommandant followed suit, then gave a soft 'humph'. "That man's enough to make me crazy."
"I think Burkhalter's enough to make anybody crazy." Hogan replied. "So are my men." He took another drink, fell quiet for a moment, then turned to face his German counterpart. "Kommandant, have you noticed my men and Kalina acting any different lately?"
"Not any different then your men usually are, why?" An idea reached Klink's head, and a deep frown made its way to his face. "Hogan, your men better not be planning any escape attempt."
"If they are, they certainly haven't told me anything about it." Hogan tapped his glass with his fingers and continued. "The boys and Kalina are keeping some big secret from me. And I want to know what it is. Unfortunately, they're more lock-mouthed than an oyster is."
"Hogan, did you ever think that maybe what they're not telling you is none of your business?"
"Whatever it is, it revolves around me; it's completely my business."
"Well, if you're asking if Kalina's said anything to me regarding the matter, I haven't heard anything. The only thing she talks about these days is some handsome Italian-American corporal and how he doesn't even give her a simple glance in her direction."
The American could not keep himself from chuckling. He knew the exact boy Klink referred to. Corporal Anthony Toscano of the United States Army Air Force. Three years older than Kalina, a resident of barracks seven, and a girl's exact dream with his pearly white teeth and thick, wavy black hair he constantly had slicked back with hair gel. Try as she may, though, Kalina could not get the 18 year old to take one look at her with the constant delivery of mail he received from several girls back in the States. In fact, the young man got so many letters that he constantly smelled like fancy perfume and body sprays.
"Let me guess," Hogan said. "Corporal Toscano?"
Klink shook his head with disgust. "I don't know what she sees in him anyways. My perfect baby girl is far too good for some guy that spends his time combing his hair, reading fan mail, and acts like a complete böser Junge."
"Boo young who?" Hogan replied, feigning stupidity when it came to German.
"Böser Junge," Klink corrected. "You Americans say 'bad boy' I think it is."
"What can I say, Kommandant; little teenage girls like the bad boy type."
"But this is my little girl, my baby. My sweet, pure little Kalina who has the grace and elegance of her aristocratic ancestors. Beautiful, smart as a whip, a gifted pianist. She stands on a ten foot pedestal compared to Herr Welliges Haar." (2)
Hogan gave a friendly smile, downed the rest of his brandy, then handed his glass to Klink as he rose to his feet. "Kommandant, as much as I'd rather sit here and talk to you about things other than the war, I've gotta get back to my investigation." He gave his German counterpart a salute, got one in return, then headed for the door before turning around once more. "Colonel?"
Klink looked up from setting Hogan's glass on top of the cupboard and saw him with a genuine grin to his face.
"Don't worry too much. There's a lot worse guys your daughter could be fawning over. Like a swigger, for example." (3)
"A what?" Klink asked, dumbfounded.
"Never mind. Probably better if you didn't know." Hogan gave one last salute, then closed the door behind him, leaving Klink with nothing but his racing mind and worried thoughts.
"There's gotta be some way we can find this guy," Newkirk said, pacing back and forth with a cigarette in his mouth. Kinch leaned against one of the bunk bed poles with his arms crossed, and Carter, LeBeau, and Kalina sat at the table as Hogan's core unit continued to discuss their commander's lethal enemy. They had re-convened for another secret meeting after evening roll call and Hogan going to his quarters. At the moment, they were all struggling to find a way to catch this killer before he acted on his threats, and all they had to go off of was a phony order claiming to be from London and a hoaky radio frequency that had been located somewhere in the surrounding areas around Stalag 13.
"What if we tried luring him into a trap?" LeBeau asked.
"It's a good idea, but what if this guy is as clever as the Colonel is? He'd be able to sniff out a set up from a mile away," Kinch said.
"Kinch is right, mate," Newkirk added, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Colonel's got the nose of a ruddy bloodhound. If this guy's got anything near that, a trap would never work."
"But even Colonel can get fooled once and a while...right?" Carter asked, fidgeting with his fingers.
"If it's laid out very, very thoroughly. Then maybe...maybe," Kinch answered.
"Well...what if we…" Carter never got to finish his sentence, when the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and the colonel himself walked out into the living area.
"Alright, fellas. Honey. I'll be back in a couple of hours," Hogan said, making his way to the fake bunk.
Immediately alarmed, everyone got to their feet and quickly approached Hogan.
"Back?" Carter remarked, wide eyed.
"Back from where?" Newkirk asked, with suspicion.
"I've got an assignment to go to," Hogan said. "Meeting with someone named Brown Eyes. Says they got important information for me to give to London. Just came in not too long ago. S'why I'm going in uniform. I'll be back in an hour or two."
"NO!" Everyone screamed, causing the colonel to jump a bit in surprise.
"You can't!" LeBeau exclaimed.
When the shock finally wore off, Hogan smiled and softly chuckled. "Guys, I'm gonna be alright. I've been on many assignments solo before. This shouldn't be any different."
As Hogan turned to climb down the ladder, Kalina tore away from the group in a panic. "No," she wailed. She grabbed a tight hold of Hogan's arm and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Don't go, please don't go!"
Hogan stared at her baffled for the longest while before lifting his eyes to his boys, who stood there with growing tension and complete silence. The only thing that displayed their current emotions was the nervous expressions plastered to their faces. It was then Hogan frowned, and his expression darkened. "Alright," he said tersely. "I've had enough of this. What the hell is going on here? You five have been more jumpy than a kangaroo for the last 48 hours."
Newkirk opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a bunch of stuttering.
LeBeau chuckled bashfully. "Well, you see, Colonel...it's kind of a funny story actually, uh…" He began to trail off when he saw Hogan's flaming eyes. He was about to lose it, and they all knew it. And when Hogan lost his temper, nobody was happy in the end. The steamy breath that came out of his nose was a strong indicator that he was about to tip over.
"You see, Sir, it kind of started with...sort of like...what I'm trying to say is...Schultz told us a creepy ghost story?" Carter replied sheepishly, turning red as a fire hydrant.
Hogan stared at all of them for a long moment, his face hardening even more. His radar was ringing like crazy, and he could see it in all of their eyes. The one thing he hated more than prejudice and discrimination. And the fact that his team, his best friends, were doing it not only infuriated him, but it deeply hurt his feelings. "You're lying," he gnarled. "I can see it in your eyes."
"Colonel, we…" Newkirk never got to finish his sentence, when Hogan blew up.
"CORPORAL!" He barked, making everyone jump and shudder. "I'm done playing nice. Now quit lying and just tell me what everyone's so shook up over. And that's an order!"
"Colonel, would we ever lie to you?" LeBeau asked, praying that his last attempt would be enough to get Hogan off the topic.
"Apparently so," he answered harshly, then turned his hawk eyes to Kalina, who had remained quiet the entire dispute. Her eyes were facing downwards, only looking at Hogan through the corners of them. When he saw his gaze set on her, she slowly lifted her eyes and swallowed a large lump in her throat. "But I know someone who never lies." He continued. "Kalina?"
The little Klink began to shiver and gulped. She knew what Hogan was about to do, and she was not certain if she could keep her promise to the boys when it happened. Did she lie to the man she loved like another father and severely hurt his feelings, or did she betray her friends and throw everyone under the bus?
"Kalina?" Hogan pressed, his expression softening slightly. "What's going on?"
(1) Monsieur Fou - Mr. Madman
(2) Herr Welliges Haar - Mr. Wavy Hair
(3) Swigger - 1920s' slang for an alcoholic.