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Roll call was a quiet affair that morning, with little of the usual griping of having to get up early and stand in the cold. Those who made an attempt at normalcy were halfhearted at best. The guards seemed to notice something was off with the prisoners and were all on edge, looking around with a suspicious eye as they kept their rifles close.
"Ein, zwei, drei..."
Most of the men were groggy as well, having spent most of the night either trying to get a few hours of sleep, or had not even bothered at all. Hogan himself had laid down for about twenty minutes before roll call, although his mind was too anxious to feel too tired at the moment. Sleepless nights only came with the territory anyway, and he barely gave the matter a second thought.
"Zehn, elf, zwolf, dreiz..."
Schulz paused in mid count, a puzzled expression crossing over his face before it quickly morphed into panic. He shot an anxious look towards Klink's office, who had yet to come out. "Colonel Hogan... I counted twelve men, Colonel Hogan." He glanced back at the line up as he silently counted them out again, just to be safe. "Why am I not counting fifteen, there are supposed to be fifteen men here for roll call!"
Hogan kept his face straight as he tried not to think that the most Schultz was going to count after today would be fourteen. "Sounds like there's been an escape, Schultz."
"A-An escape?" His eyes went wide as he stuttered, shifting between the roll call list and Hogan. "Colonel Hogan pl-eeease, you know I don't like that word!"
"I'm afraid it's true. Carter, Newkirk, and Lebeau took off last night."
"You promised me no monkey business last night," Schultz continued, looking desperately between the Colonel and the barracks door as if the three missing prisoners were going to come through at the last minute. "I let you stay up after lights out, and now there are prisoners missing when they should not be missing! Where-"
"REPOOORT!"
Schultz made a strangled noise at the sound of Klink's bellow, giving Hogan one last silent plea before turning around and meeting Klink with a shaky salute.
"H-Herr Kommandant, I beg to report that last night three prisoners escaped," Schultz said.
"An escape? That's impossible!" Klink said. "No one can escape out of my camp, count them again Schultz, you must have the wrong number."
Schultz winced, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else at the moment as he handed him the roll call list. "I-It's true, I counted them myself, and then counted again just to be sure. Corporals Lebeau and Newkirk, and Sergeant Carter are missing."
When the Sergeant's expression only grew more restless under his stare, Klink turned around and started to shout and point towards the other guards. "Prisoners have escaped! Sound the alarms! Release the dogs! Schultz, I want all of these men back inside until further notice. No more escapes, you understand me?"
Chaos broke out at Klink's orders as several guards broke out of formation, shouting commands as they readied to leave camp. The sound of barking dogs followed shortly after from the excitement as they were leashed and let out of their cage.
"Everybody back to the barracks! Raus, raus!" This time the men protested, which made Schultz yell even louder to be heard over them. "Kommandant's orders! You are restricted to the barracks until further notice! Now raus, everybody back to the barracks!"
When he saw Klink heading his way, Hogan quickly pulled aside the men who had yet to go back inside. "Foster, Olsen, I want you to keep an eye on the place, look out for anyone coming into camp or anything unusual. And tell the rest of the men to be on their best behavior. Baker, take over the radio for Kinch while he rests," he said, giving his second in command a knowing look that meant his words were an order. "Monitor any calls from Klink's office, I want to know everything that's come and gone when I get back."
As soon as he ushered them into the barracks, Klink was in his face and unhappy. "Colonel Hogan what is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Three escapes in one night? I thought I told you to shut down that escape committee!"
"Sir you have my word the escape committee is gone," Hogan said. "Listen Kommandant, I believe I know where to look, so if you let me go with Sergeant Schultz, I might be able to bring them back."
"And let you outside of camp? So you can escape too? This sounds like one of your tricks."
"Well sir, you've always been a favorite amongst my men, and if you had to explain how three men escaped-" Hogan let out a whistle- "Well that could put you up for the Russian Front, and we don't want to see you leave. It's bad for morale." Klink's face turned thoughtful as he played into his words.
"Now, I would have never believed it at the time, but I think I overheard them last night planning where they were going to escape..."
Lebeau pulled his thin sweater around himself tighter as he crossed his arms over his chest, shifting so his back was mostly to the wind. In his haste to make it out of the tunnel before roll call, he had forgotten to grab his scarf and hat. During the day the temperature wasn't too bad as the weather clung to the last bit of summer, but the cold seeped in quickly once the sun set, and took forever to warm back up. At least he didn't have much longer to go, it was already well past roll call and the Colonel rarely kept them waiting any longer than he had to.
The last several hours had passed by like a blur; they almost felt like a dream. His own assignment escorting the French agents, getting the new's about Carter's death, and then rushing out to sit outside in the cold until Hogan picked him up... The events of the night all twisted into one horrible nightmare that he wished he could simply wake up from.
A cloud covered the rays of the already meager sunlight, causing Lebeau to shiver again. He would give anything to be back at camp. It was too quiet out here by himself, and after being a POW for so long, he had long grown accustomed to the hustle and bustle and noise that came with it (and in an odd way it almost reminded him of home). Especially having to deal with losing Carter, Lebeau found he didn't want to have to deal with that alone, but amongst the company of close friends.
At least the Colonel would be there soon. Lebeau just hoped he picked him up first.
Carter's head was pounding even worse when he woke up the second time, the bright overhead lamp burning and left him feeling dizzy as he opened his eyes. The pain in the rest of his body hit him almost immediately along with the previous night's (day? How long had he been out for?) memories, his muscles stiff from his injuries and the hard backed chair he was now sitting in.
His outer jacket was gone, which left a chill that made him shiver. Through the tears in his remaining clothing, Carter noticed with a churning stomach, he could see several burns, bruises, and cuts, including a particularly large and deep one on his right arm. So that's where the blood had come from. It was hard to tell from his current angle, but he hoped it at least stopped bleeding.
His wrists were tied together to a bar on the back of the chair with wire wrapped several times around, and his ankles were tied to each leg in a similar fashion. Carefully testing his bindings, he noted with dismay there wasn't enough give to be able to work them off, and they bit even painfully tighter into his skin the more he moved.
And he had thought he was in a bad spot before. Boy, now this is just the icing with the cake. At least they didn't string him up by his thumbs, although as he thought about it, that might've been easier to get out of.
When he finally looked up after his eyes adjusted to the light, Carter was greeted with an impatient looking man dressed in a neatly pressed suit, with a trench coat and matching hat to complete the outfit; he knew the all too familiar sight terribly well: undercover Gestapo. He pushed down the slowly rising panic.
"Good, I was hoping you would wake up soon," the man spoke in German. Carter's hearing was still muffled, but was at least better than before. "You and I are going to have a nice talk today. Let's start with your name?"
Carter racked his brain, debating what he should do. The Colonel had always said only give name, rank, and serial number if any of them were ever questioned, but... Then he would look suspicious being a prisoner of war carrying fake papers. And if they traced his actual name back to Stalag 13 after suspecting even the slightest involvement in the Underground, he could put his friends in danger and in front of a firing squad. It could mean a dangerous end to the whole operation.
Pressing his lips together, Carter stayed silent.
"I will assume you want me to think you were taking a walk in the woods. At night, in the middle of a forest fire," the man continued. Carter decided to call him Fritz.
"Silence does not prove your innocence, it only shows you are guilty. As does this. You should know it's illegal for civilians to carry firearms." He pulled out the pistol that Carter had been carrying and dangling it in front of him. "And... Firecrackers? So where did you get this?"
Fritz continued to speak, but Carter instead tuned him out to focus on his surroundings. He had to figure out a way out of this, and fast. The man had taken his gun and firecrackers, and he assumed his knife was gone as well, which limited him on weapons he could use. The room was simple and bare, with little in it other than Fritz and himself. There were no windows, so he could only guess as to the time of day-
Carter saw the flash of movement out of the corner of his eye before he felt the sudden punch to his face. Blood spurted from his nose that coincided with a sharp crack, and he couldn't help but let out a hiss as it immediately flared in pain.
"If you don't want to listen to my words, perhaps that is easier to understand, yes?" There were very few things Carter truly hated, and this man was quickly growing to the top of that list. "You look like you've already have a long night, so let's make this quick and easy for you."
Keep your mouth shut Andrew, don't talk and don't give out anything about the operation. The Colonel and the guys back at camp are counting on me. What was Kinch always telling me? Right... Observe, assess, and find the solution... I just hope you guys are okay back at camp.
"Last night our intelligence operation took down the reported location of a dangerous guerrilla rebellion group that recently moved into the area." So it was already morning, and it sounded like he was still in Hammelburg at least, not that he trusted a Kraut by their word. "We also suspect that group had ties to an underground network responsible for dozens of acts of sabotage in the area."
Carter felt blood start to trickle down his throat, tasting the copper at the back of his mouth, and resisted the urge to throw up. His eyes followed Fritz as he slowly walked around him, looking down on him almost like he was sizing him up. He wants answers but he ain't gonna get 'em, he told himself as he tried to push back the growing fear.
Fritz stopped when he was in front of Carter. "Intelligence said there were twelve people involved in that group, and we counted twelve bodies at the site." Guess that made him the unlucky thirteen then. "So just who the hell are you? Why were you there, why were you carrying illegal weapons?"
When he still did not get an answer, Fritz punched Carter twice more, once again to the face and then to his stomach with enough force to have him gasping for air. The sudden blow pulled at his already strained muscles and caused him to almost choke on the blood that was still running down his throat as he instinctively inhaled.
"It's early yet," Fritz said once Carter managed to still his coughing. The German gave him a look that reeked of contempt. "I have orders to interrogate you until you talk. Sooner or later we'll get the information we want, it's up to you how we'll do it."
Despite Hogan's order to get some rest, Kinch had spent most of the morning tossing and turning in his bunk. The little bit of sleep he did manage to get was plagued with images of bombs, fire, and Carter, which woke him up as quickly as he had drifted off. It didn't help, either, that the men were still confined to the barracks for most of the time and kept him up with their morning routine mixed with complaining.
When Langenscheidt finally came in to announce that the barracks restriction was lifted, Kinch gave up on trying to sleep. He was starting to get restless and needed fresh air anyway; Colonel Hogan had been gone for several hours at that point, and should have been back by now. Images from his earlier nightmares started to return, before he pushed them out of his head. The Colonel, Newkirk, and Lebeau were fine.
After checking with Baker down in the radio room and sending a message to London, he was just about to head outside when he ran into Olsen coming in through the door. "Truck coming through the gates, Kinch," he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
Pushing past Olsen, Kinch watched with a wary eye as the truck pulled in front of Klink's office, relaxing when he saw Hogan jump out of the back followed by Newkirk and Lebeau. All three of them looked weary, the latter two stumbling a bit as they caught their footing, and were silent as Schultz ushered them into the office with a bellow that echoed across the quiet compound.
Olsen let out a low whistle as they watched the scene. "Haven't seen Schultz this mad in a while."
"Probably because he has to tell Klink he only came back with two."
His thoughts continuously drifted back to the safety of their operation while he waited for them to finish, watching a game of football to pass time, although the attempt was halfhearted at best. He knew the Colonel had a handle on it and could probably even talk Klink into joining the US Army, but with having one prisoner (permanently, unbeknownst to the Germans) unaccounted for, it was still cutting it close.
It was nearly an hour later that Hogan finally came out of Klink's office. Looking around to make sure the area was clear of guards, Hogan came up and leaned against their barracks wall next to Kinch. "Anything happen while I was gone?"
"Not that I've heard, it's been quiet all morning. They lifted barracks restrictions right before you came back," Kinch said.
"At least we have one thing going for us," Hogan said. "I also managed to talk Klink out of a cooler sentence. Lebeau told him thirty days in the cooler meant no work detail and was hardly a punishment. Now they're on daily work detail instead."
"I'm sure they were happy about that. At least they won't be cooped up in a cell for a month, although I think we'll hear them complain about too much work by the end of the week," Kinch said. He had seen Lebeau not too long ago when he passed by with a quiet greeting, but he had yet to see Newkirk after he left the office. "Did they say anything about not being able to find Carter?"
"Schultz is still upset, but he's not talking about the Russian Front anymore at least. There's still a few guards out looking." Hogan paused for a moment before continuing, a shadow passing over his face as his voice somber. "We passed near where they bombed last night. Couldn't get an up close look, but the whole area was leveled almost to the ground. I tried to pry Schultz to get the dope about what might've happened, but he didn't know anything about it."
"Sounds like they're being pretty quiet about it then," Kinch suggested. "When I spoke to London, they said they don't have any leads yet either."
Hogan turned to face him, his brow furrowed in annoyance and concern. "Spoke to London? I thought I said to get some rest? Baker was supposed to be on radio," he said, crossing his arms.
"I tried, sir," Kinch said, holding up his hands in defense. "But between barracks restriction, and everything that happened last night with losing Carter, well I was better off just staying up."
"No, I can't say I blame you for that," Hogan said, dropping the subject as he diverted his gaze with a faraway look, not unlike the one from the night before. Whatever was on the Colonel's mind, he didn't divulge, and Kinch didn't ask.
When Hogan didn't continue after a moment, Kinch finally broke the silence. "You know, I probably should've told it to him before, but Carter was one Hell of a good guy. I know we ragged on him a lot, but... It won't be the same without him."
Hogan pressed his lips together as he looked down and wiped a hand over his eyes, Kinch's words no doubt cutting deep. And with an ever subtle nod of his head after a pause, Hogan agreed.