A/N:Alright, first off I am extremely sorry for my disappearance off here for the last several months. I just moved from my home in Wisconsin to Mississippi back in March, was homeless and lived in a hotel for three weeks, moved into our new house, struggled to find a job thanks to this stupid virus going around, got into a car accident and had to buy a new car, then between editing a story for a friend and working practically every day of the week (co-workers at my new job don't like staying around too long), I've practically had no time for any writing and posting. I'm usually so tired when I come home from work that I eat dinner, take a shower, and head right to bed. But I've finally found some time recently to get back into writing, and I'm leaving this little comedy I've been working on for you guys to enjoy. As always, I'd love to read your comments and responses, and I'm happy to be back on here with my 'Hogan's Heroes' family. Enjoy, you guys! Hope you like my new little story.
Chapter 2:
Klink was immediately brought into a room in the emergency area, put on a morphine drip, and several tests were done by Dr. Richard Klaussner (also a highly trained agent with the underground) to determine the cause of ailment. While he ran the kommandant's blood and x-rays in the lab, Hogan paced back and forth in front of Klink's bed, while Kalina sat next to her father's legs, and Schultz frantically munched on a few chocolate bars to ease his growing anxiety.
"What is taking them so long? Colonel Hogan, I cannot stand the suspense anymore," the sergeant whined as he took another bite on a chocolate bar.
Hogan paused in his pacing and turned a glance at the man. "Schultz, it's only been twenty minutes," he said calmly. "Not exactly a 'get in and get out' sort of situation we're dealing with."
"Oh, but I hate waiting, and I hate hospitals. If the doctors make me wait, then I begin to grow anxious. And if I become anxious, I start to get hungry. And if I start to get hungry, I…"
"Schultz, breathe."
The sergeant sucked a deep breath of air in and slowly let it back out to ease his raging nerves. He nodded. "Okay, I am better now."
Hogan rolled his eyes, then made his gaze to Kalina, who was doing all she could to remain calm and brave for her father's sake. The constant wringing of her hands and slight shivering of her body gave her true feelings away, and she felt someone put their hand on her arm. She looked to her left and saw Klink giving her an encouraging smile despite how miserable he currently felt.
"I'm gonna be alright, Suße," he promised her, in a tired voice. "It's probably nothing more than a bad case of the stomach flu."
"Do you hurt any, Papa?" Kalina asked shakily. "Do you need another pillow or a glass of water or…" She paused as Klink placed his IV'd hand on her cheek and gently rubbed it with his thumb.
"I'm fine, baby. Just a little sleepy from the morphine is all."
Hogan cocked his head a bit to the side as he furrowed his eyebrows quizzically. "Kalina, you're a medic in training; do you have any idea what your father might have?" He asked her.
The little Klink shook her head. "It could be a numerous amount of things, Colonel Hogan," she told him. "Ulcers, gastritis, a hernia...appendicitis is what scares me most. If it perforates or explodes, it...it's bad, Colonel Hogan...Papa could...could…" She could not finish. Her throat began to tighten, and her vision started to blur. She hung her head and shook it as Klink took a gentle hold of her hand and rubbed his thumb back and forth on it, squeezing it slightly every now and then for comfort.
"What, what what what, what is a hernia?" Schultz asked, genuinely curious.
As Hogan opened his mouth to speak, the sound of approaching footsteps became louder and louder until Dr. Klaussner stepped inside flipping through papers on his clipboard, taking notes every now and then with his pen. "Well, good news is that we caught it just in time to stop it from getting worse," the medic said, briefly looking up at the group of four before turning his eyes back to the test results before him.
Klink, who rested his IV'd hand on his belly, raised a half-suspicious half-concerned eyebrow at his physician, an eerie chill beginning to run up and down his spine. "If that's the good news, then what's the bad news?"
"You need your gallbladder removed," Klaussner answered, still taking notes on something.
That caused everyone's eyes to widen in horror. "Gallbladder!" They exclaimed.
"Your x-rays and blood tests show extreme inflammation and some severe swelling," Klaussner continued, his attention now theirs fully. "I'm afraid I have to take you in for emergency surgery, Kommandant."
"Surgery?" Kalina croaked, her body locking in place from fear. The color from her face completely drained away, and her pupils were as wide as her blue irises.
"Gallbladder removal, that's an awful big operation, Doc," Hogan said, crossing his arms as the news slowly soaked through his brain. "How long is the recovery period from that?"
"A week here in the hospital, then another week of bedrest once discharged along with a few weeks more of taking it easy and slowly getting back into a normal routine. Eight weeks, at the most," Klaussner answered calmly.
Klink's face went completely blank for a long moment before he abruptly pushed his bed covers to the side a bit and miserably attempted to sit up.
"Herr Kommandant," Schultz said, surprised to see his commanding officer trying to get out of bed. "What are you doing?"
"Going back to Stalag 13. I don't have time for a major operation when General Burkhalter's coming for a camp inspection. I'll come back another day and have the surgery then." He grimaced as he felt the tenderness in his stomach re-emerge to the surface. He turned his gaze to Kalina, who stared at him with her jaw ajar. "Kalina baby, find your papa his uniform, won't you?"
"Colonel, you get back into that bed before I have you tied down to it," Klaussner ordered brusquely, while Kalina gently eased her father back into the bed and tucked him in gently. "You have a serious infection that requires immediate attention and could become detrimental to your health if you put it off even for a second more."
Klink was about to open his mouth, when he felt his daughter rub his shoulder and turned to meet her eyes. "Listen to Dr. Klaussner, Papa. If something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself for it," she told him heartfully.
"Kalina's right, Sir," Hogan said, stepping forward a bit to be closer to Kalina's side. "I remember when I had my appendix removed. I may have a nasty scar, and it may have taken quite a while to feel like myself again, but I'd much rather have gone through that lengthy process than still have that God awful pain inside my stomach."
"But General Burkhalter…"
"Kalina and I will handle Burkhalter. Besides, if you skip the surgery, and Burkhalter sees you in such a miserable condition, he might just send you to the Russian Front to toughen you back up. Then you can have your surgery there. During an autopsy."
The kommandant's face began to pale at the horrific images forming in his head, then humphed as he realized everyone was right. It was better to have the surgery now than later. Not only would the pain and infection progress, but it could land him in a very unwanted predicament...and in his grave, too. He lay his head back against his pillow and let out a sigh of surrender. "Alright," he moaned. "Just take the stupid thing out, and get this over with already."
Klaussner gave the man an encouraging smile as he walked out of the room to fetch the anesthesiologist and his team of doctors to prep Klink for surgery. "Colonel Klink, you will be feeling better before you know it," he said, then winked at him before disappearing into the hallways.
Once he was out of sight and hearing range, Klink folded his arms over his middle, looked off to his right, then grumbled, "Name one good thing about being cut up like a pumpkin."
Two hours went by since Klink had been put under anesthesia and brought into emergency surgery. Hogan, Schultz, and Kalina were taken to a private waiting room on the fourth floor to wait for Klaussner to finish the operation and come out to give his report. And while they anxiously waited for any news, Hogan either sat down and tapped his foot angrily or paced back and forth across the room. Schultz was drinking a bottle of beer to settle his nerves, God only knowing where he had managed to get one in a hospital; and Kalina sat silently either praying that her father would be alright or staring out the window at the nightlife in the streets of Hammelburg.
Hogan pursed his lips as he turned around from one wall to start heading back to the other. He lifted his chocolate brown eyes up at the clock to check the time. 8:45 p.m. Almost two hours and a half since Klink's surgery began. The American let out a heavy breath of air and resumed pacing, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and spotted Kalina shaking a bit. Her lip quivered as her eyes shone with unshed tears. She looked up at him and sniffled, hot tears beginning to burn down her face.
Hogan gave her a comforting smile, sat down beside her, then took Kalina into his arms and gently hushed her while rocking from side to side. "Don't cry, honey," he said. "Everything's gonna be alright. Your father's gonna be alright."
Kalina sniffled again. "I hate seeing Papa in so much pain," she cried. "And there's nothing I can do to make him feel better."
"Hey, that's not true. You know what's gonna make your father feel better the most? Some of your world famous hugs and kisses. That's the best medicine he could ever get."
Kalina made another sniffle, then gave a small smile through her tears. "Then he'll get nothing but," she said, with a bit of confidence.
Hogan beamed at her as he gently rubbed the back of her head, while Schultz shook his head. Not even the beer was easing his anxiety. At that point, he assumed that not even a hundred bottles of beer could settle him down. Klink may have yelled at him all the time and called him a dummkopf constantly, he may have made the sergeant walk a post several times for many hours, and the colonel may have drove him up a wall some days, but despite all that, the last thing he wanted was for something to happen to Klink. He loved having Klink as his commanding officer. He was the best commanding officer he had ever had. He realized just how much the colonel meant to him when he was under the command of Colonel Werner Koch's almost a year ago. When Klink had temporarily gone to the Russian Front thanks to a stunt pulled by Hogan and his team.
Colonel Koch had been the definition of evil. To call him 'corruptive' would have been the biggest understatement of the century. He had yelled and hollered at the guards and prisoners, threatened to have them beaten repeatedly until they begged to be shot, made guards sleep outside in areas likely to be bombed if they misbehaved, and he locked the prisoners in their barracks or took away all their food rationings completely if they were to do the same. Poor little Kalina had gotten the worse end of the stick. She had become a human punching bag to the colonel, being whipped on the back and neck daily for 'not following orders' to Koch's approval. Cleaning buildings with nothing but a toothbrush and a bucket of soapy water, bringing Koch his food and drink whenever he called for it, making her do labor work that was meant for muscular men instead of little teenage girls. If she injured herself while doing so or missed even the tiniest speck of dust anywhere, she was scolded, beaten, then forced to do it all over again with some of the tools that helped her complete the task taken away from her to make it ten times as difficult. Then the most horrific thing of all; Koch had threatened that if she were to ever tell someone of her mistreatment, especially Burkhalter and Hogan, she would be murdered in the most gruesome way Koch could think of: stabbing her repeatedly while dressed as her father.
It had been hell and high water to get Klink back to Stalag 13, the colonel even almost dying in Russia in an assassination attempt set up by Koch himself and enlisted men of the Mafia. Thankfully, Klink had survived his injuries and came home a couple weeks afterwards. Burkhalter had promised afterwards that if Klink were ever to be transferred to another unit for any reason again, which was unlikely, his replacement would go under the most intense physical and psychiatric background checks known to Nazi Germany. If he showed even the slightest bit of concern, he would be thrown into prison and deemed unsafe to the public of Germany. And to go through that hell again. To lose Klink forever and be permanently stuck with possibly another nutjob, it was too horrific for Schultz to think about. Underneath all of his pompousness and big ego, Klink was a kind and considerate man who always made sure everyone was safe and satisfied with what he could give them. His door was always open to the men under his command, and he protected his daughter like a mama bear did with her cubs.
"I just do not understand," Schultz finally said. "It has almost been three hours since they took the Kommandant in. What could possibly be taking so long for them to…" His blue eyes widened with apprehension and turned to look at Hogan and Kalina for reassurance. "You don't think Kommandant Klink…" He took his finger and ran it across his neck while making a clicking noise with his tongue.
Hogan cocked his head to the side and gave the sergeant an irritated glance as Kalina's jaw dropped in horror, her blue eyes glistening with incomprehensible fear. "Schultz," the colonel groaned. He was about to continue, when approaching footsteps became louder, and Klaussner came into the waiting area dressed in his surgical scrubs, a surgical mask hanging around his neck. His expression was a complete blank, making it mere impossible to figure out whether Klink's surgery had gone well or taken a turn for the worse.
The colonel and Kalina rose to their feet, quickly joining the medic's side as Schultz did the same. "Doc," Hogan began. "How's he doing?"
"Oh please, Herr Doktor, how is the Kommandant doing?" Schultz asked, with mercy.
"Is he okay?" Kalina croaked, Hogan's hands gently placed on her shoulders for comfort.
Klaussner raised his hands to calm them. "It's alright, it's alright. Colonel Klink is doing just fine. Surgery went well as can be. Sorry it took longer than expected, but I thought while he was in there I would check on the wounds he suffered back in Russia last year. See how they were doing and all."
"And?" Hogan remarked curiously.
"Some major scar tissue in the affected areas, but otherwise all is well and normal," Klaussner said, then let a wide grin come to his face. "I have no doubts that Colonel Klink will make a full recovery."
"Can I see him?" Kalina asked, almost sounding like a plea.
Klaussner chuckled softly. "I had a feeling you'd ask me that," he answered, then gestured with his hand to come with him. "Follow me. I'll take you to him."
Without a word, the trio walked with Klaussner to an elevator and rode up to the fifth floor, then was led down a few hallways until they stopped at a closed wooden door labeled 527. The medic took a hold of the knob and stepped aside as the door came open for Hogan and the others to enter inside.
They walked towards the single bed in the room to find Klink deep asleep. He wore a white nightgown with tiny navy blue diamonds on it and a light blue bathrobe on top of it. His right hand, resting on top of his swollen middle, was taped to an IV, and he was hooked up to an EKG machine. A red rubber tube hung out of the bed covers, diverting bacteria and excess fluid away from the surgical incision. He looked so ill, yet so peaceful at the same time. His skin color was still slightly pale, but the sweating from the fever had ceased.
Kalina sat down by her father's legs and gently shook Klink's left hand, which was placed over his hip. "Papa?" She asked. "Papa…" Fear began to grasp her, and it took all of her strength to keep herself together. "Papa?" She croaked.
"Easy there, little one," Klaussner said. "He's just under the effects of anesthesia still is all. Should start wearing off in a few more minutes. I'll be back then to check on everyone." He gave Hogan and Schultz a courteous nod, then walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Once alone, Klink slowly opened his eyes and just barely turned his head to the left to see Hogan and Schultz looking at him, wide smiles coming to their faces.
"Hey, Kommandant," Hogan said quietly. "How are you feeling, Sir?"
Klink swallowed to try and aid his dry throat, but it only did so much. "What...what happened?" He asked raspy.
"You had your gallbladder removed, remember? Dr. Klaussner you did well as could be. You'll be able to go back to camp in another week or so if all goes well."
"I feel...I feel like I just...got hit by ein Feuerwehrauto." (1)
That got both Hogan and Schultz to chuckle a bit.
"Papa," Kalina said softly. "How do you feel? Do you need me to get anything for you?"
Klink's pale and tired face brightened ever so slightly as he slowly reached out his hand and gently ran his thumb across his daughter's cheek, cupping her chin while doing so. He let out a labored breath of air before answering. "I feel...a lot better now that...that I'm looking at you."
Kalina felt a grin spread across her lips, her blue eyes twinkling with love and glee. How she wished she could give her papa a hug, but she was too weary of hurting him in his frail physical state. Her fond gaze would have to do justice for her until Klink got a bit stronger again. "Aw Papa," she said, her cheeks blushing. She grabbed a hold of her father's arm with her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.
The door to Klink's room again opened, and Klaussner stepped inside, smiling a bit as he saw his patient awake and somewhat conscious. He could only imagine how tired Klink must have felt at that moment. The fact he was able to keep his eyelids open a bit was baffling enough to him. "How's the illustrious Kommandant Klink doing?" He asked, stopping in between Hogan and Schultz.
Klink closed his eyes and swallowed. "I don't...I don't feel much...my stomach's...tight."
"It will be for a while, Colonel. You'll be a bit sore as well, when the anesthesia completely wears off, but I'll give you some pain medicine to keep it a bare minimum. You'll also be put on an all liquid diet for a few days, but you should be able to eat small portioned meals after we removed the tube in your stomach." Klaussner explained. "I will give Sergeant Schultz a complete list of instructions for your recovery when everyone leaves for the night." He then turned to Hogan, Schultz, and Kalina and frowned. "Which I'm afraid must be now. Colonel Klink needs all the rest he can get tonight."
"Dr. Klaussner, can't I stay with him for a few more minutes?" Kalina asked, disappointment clear in her voice.
"You may come back and see him tomorrow for a longer visit. For now, it's best that your father gets plenty of sleep and little stress."
Kalina hung her head, when she felt someone's hand be placed on her shoulder. She looked up and found Hogan smiling down at her. "We'll come back and see him again. I promise," he reassured her.
The little Klink nodded, then looked back at her father and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Get well soon, Papa. I love you."
The kommandant looked at Kalina through slits in his eyes, mouthed 'I love you' back, then closed his eyelids and drifted off to sleep.
Seeing that everything was alright with Klink, Hogan wrapped his arm around Kalina, and the two of them followed Schultz out of the room, closing the door behind them. They rode the elevator down to the parking garage next to the emergency room, then made their way back to Stalag 13.
(1) Feuerwehrauto - Fire engine