Chapter 8 – Somebody to Die for

I've got nothing left to live for, Got no reason yet to die

But when I'm standing in the gallows, I'll be staring at the sky

Because no matter where they take me, Death I will survive

And I will never be forgotten, With you by my side

With his leg fixed, and a hot mug of the little coffee they could spare, Rudolph sat in the main hub of the underground centre. He moaned aloud as he took his first sip and Kinch imagined that if it were possible, the young man may have turned into a puddle.

"Das ist sehr gut, danke," the young officer said, his voice much calmer now, and the tremors he had been experiencing dampened, as they had moved to the slightly warmer central tunnel,

"We have a few questions, as you might imagine," Kinch said, taking a seat next to Rudolph, as the others followed him and took their own seats surrounding the radio table where Rudolph had sat,

"Ja, I thought so. You may proceed," Rudolph answered with a smile and Kinch thought he could get used to this young man's earnest nature,

"You said that Kessel had chosen you specially, do you have any idea why?" LeBeau asked, turning the officer's gaze his way. There was a moment where a shadow passed across the young man's face, before he seemed to steel himself,

"My father, he was in the Gestapo, well before this war started," Rudolph shifted slightly before going on, "He and Kessel were close, and I know they were involved in some mission many years ago that made them even closer. But I also know that my father made him swear that he would never recruit me. My father traded his life in the end, for this war," Rudolph broke eye contact, taking a moment to gather himself, "and my mother and I, we thought that would be the end of our grieving. I was 16 when Papa died. Kessel got to me on my seventeenth birthday, two years ago, against Mama's wishes. I was all she had left, you see. But Kessel wouldn't hear it and told me he could make me a great officer once day." Rudolph paused to take another drink, well aware of the pity in the gazes of the allied soldiers in front of him, "I started my training but got diverted to the Russian divisions last year,"

"But you were only eighteen!" Carter intervened, dismay clear on his face. LeBeau frowned,

"That does not matter here, Carter," the Frenchman said quietly and Rudolph nodded,

"No it doesn't. And so whatever plans Kessel had for me were ruined. But there was little I could do. As I came to the end of my rotation, I was contacted by the underground, saying they had use for me when I returned to Germany. I had seen the war in Russia. And I know…I know I am young. But I know enough to see that this war had to be stopped. So I was recruited, and from there I thought I would go to Berlin and join the SS division as the underground arranged. That was when I got the letter from Kessel saying he had transferred me and I was to report to him. This was vor einem Monat, er, how you say,"

"A month ago, we got you," Kinch said and Rudolph nodded gratefully,

"I truly do not know why he wanted me, but the underground was happy enough to let me go because he is in a position of power here in this area," Rudolph took another sip as the men around him nodded in understanding,

"So why did you break cover? How were you injured?" LeBeau asked,

"I saw the Colonel brought in and simply had to act. Understand, I have seen what has happened to others that are brought into the HQ and I knew I had to try and save him, as I have heard about you here at Stalag 13 and I know how vital this escape centre is. I also heard the transmissions in the underground network, saying that the Colonel was missing, so I knew him to be the real Papa Bear,"

"How do you know so much about us?" Carter asked, for once not as trusting as he normally was, and Kinch had to agree. A lot of the underground cells were completely in the dark about their real identity, and it was only their most immediate contacts that knew the true identity of Papa Bear. The sergeant was therefore very surprised when a light blush spread across the young officer's face,

"Ah well…" he faded off,

"Rudolph?" Kinch prompted, his curiosity piqued,

"Well, I…I heard about it though Tiger, and on her description of your activities I must say I was...curious and I've been following your activity ever since. You're all just so brave and…I always wanted to be like you" he finished in a rush, the flush turning his cheeks an endearing shade of red as he shyly ducked his head. LeBeau and Kinch exchanged looks, fighting the urge to chuckle. It was good to know despite the horror of his life, the nineteen-year-old was still, at heart, a boy,

"Ah well, that's alright then. But we're really not all that brave," Kinch said, "we just don't see any other choice,"

Rudolph nodded thoughtfully, "yes I suppose. But to us locals you are brave. This is not your war in many ways and yet here you are. It was why I decided I had to get back and tell you about the Colonel. I was rostered for leave anyway, so I applied and got it yesterday,"

"Oh, so you left HQ with no problems?" Carter asked,

"Ja, kein problem," Rudolph winced then, as he recalled how he was injured, "I was on my way here, just through this surrounding forest, when a farmer spotted me creeping and thought I must be an escaped prisoner, or a commando, as it was very dark. He shot before asking any questions and ran off to find the guard. In a hurry, though I had initially intended to come to you through your known underground contacts, I managed to get myself to your tree stump, as Tiger described it, and climbed in. And so we are here,"

"And so we are here," Kinch repeated, nodding his understanding, "But what about the Colonel?" he asked, getting to the question that had weighed on them since the moment they ascertained who Rudolph was,

"Yes," the young officer said, his voice taking on a sombre note, as he gripped Hogan's dog tags around his neck and took them off, "I brought these with me, so that you knew I was telling the truth. They take them off the prisoner's in case they die so they can bury them anonymously." He placed the tags reverently on the table, before looking up to their expectant gazes, "I have come to tell you that you must get the Colonel out within the next couple of days or he will die."

A shocked silence followed his words, only the wind moving through the caverns discernible, despite the four men present.

"What do you mean he will die?" LeBeau asked, fear gripping his heart even as he asked the question, "are they putting him to death? An execution?"

"I wish it was a nice a death as that," if possible, the men in the cavern looked even more stressed as Rudolph continued, "Dr. Strauss is one of the greatest psychiatrists in Germany," Rudolph grimaced, "but he turned his use of medicine to torture and it is rumoured he has created something so potent that the prisoner's own mind turns against them. I know he is the one who is working on Colonel Hogan, because I escorted the Colonel to his room, when he and the Englander were split up, and I know that it will end badly for the Colonel if we do not get him out of there in the next day or two,"

Rudolph looked up to see the horror etched into each of the three faces in front of him,

"But…" Carter trailed off,

"No." LeBeau said, simply refusing to believe it, "No. The Colonel would not succumb. He is-"

"Human!" Rudolph said, desperation to make these men understand how urgent this was spurring him on to raise his voice and cut off the corporal, "He is human! And he will break. Every man has a breaking point and the Colonel will reach his if we do not get him out of Gestapo's hands,"

"How?" Kinch asked, his voice sounding hollow to his ears, momentarily too stunned to do anything but sit, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. After all their planning, after all their hope…

"You must have a plan!" Rudolph exclaimed, a pleading note in his voice, as he looked from one shocked face to another, and was surprised when a dry and dull laugh was torn from Kinch's lips,

"Oh we have a plan alright but it was based on a timescale of a week," the sergeant covered his eyes with his hands, leaning forward in his chair, as a haunting silence fell in the cavern, and Rudolph slumped back into his seat, wanting to reach out and comfort the sergeant but unsure whether it would be accepted.

Carter felt an ache in his belly as he considered, truly considered what it would be like, when that office was emptied of the Colonel's belongings. When they took his clothes and folded it neatly to be sent back to his family in the states. When they took down his posters, and packed away his stationary, the soldier on his desk, the dried rose Tiger gave him a while ago, his favourite cigars. When the laughter, the reassurance and leadership they had come to rely on was gone, and the sergeant felt nauseous, his stomach roiling with his emotions.

"We have to get him now then," Carter said aloud, unable to control himself, and LeBeau almost growled when he stood up so fast his chair was flipped over,

"How Carter?!" he demanded, his own endurance for bad news at its very end, "Mon Colonel is in the Bosche hands and we are here in this stinking camp, sitting on our hands! How are we going to help?" he had moved forward with each wild gesture of his hands, so that for once he was towering over Carter, but that changed as Carter leapt up too,

"We find a way!" He yelled back, shoving LeBeau so that the Frenchman stumbled backwards and nearly tripped over his own chair, his calves stinging as he collided with the wood. Carter's face was red and his voice had cracked with the stress of the last few days and this new news that threw all their plans into disarray, "We HAVE TO!" the sergeant shouted, less at LeBeau and more at the world at large, the words as much an order as much as they were a plea and it was that that prompted LeBeau to reign in his anger, glaring at the young sergeant, who stood hugging himself now, trying to control his breathing, "he's our brother," Carter finished,

"Carter…" LeBeau began in a softer tone, looking over to Kinch for some support, but then felt as if he had received another blow, this time somewhere in his chest, when he saw the blank expression on the sergeant's face. Kinch had held up so well until now, leading them onwards with purpose and determination. Now, he looked empty as he stared at the floor, his normally expressive eyes shuttered, locking the world out.

"He has to come back," Carter mumbled, his voice thick, his eyes suspiciously bright, forcing LeBeau's eyes back onto the him and then LeBeau had already crossed the floor to where his friend was, and drawn him into a hug, speaking into the collar of the sergeant's jumpsuit as he did,

"We'll get him back, Carter. We will,"

Hogan brought the mail into the house and threw it on the little side table along with his keys, as he shrugged off his coat and shut the front door behind him, trailing a little of the early snow that had fallen soft and gentle across the city. Their house was the same one he had woken up in all those months ago, but he had been wrong about its settings, as they weren't in the middle of nowhere, they were actually near to a city, back home in the States, on some well-deserved leave. He had told Peter of his disorientation, but the man had simply frowned sympathetically and told him that's what the psychiatrist had said would be normal. He had shell-shock and though it wasn't severe, there would be times when there were lapses in his memory.

It had been a very long time since he'd had any lapses though, Hogan thought with satisfaction. He knew very well that their house was set up on a hill, with large land that he and Newkirk had bought when they moved back to the states after the war, and it was beautiful. Such a nice contrast to the POW camp they had endured, with no tall fences anywhere, and no one else around, just as he liked it after the years of close quarter living.

"Peter, you home?" Hogan called, his voice infused with warmth and satisfaction as he made his way over the luxuriously soft brown carpet the living room was covered with.

His life was perfect. He was a general now, currently on loan to a private security company as they planned defences on the north east coast and wanted Hogan as a consultant. He had been happy to oblige so long as he could keep Newkirk as his aide. The general staff had been almost too happy to transfer Newkirk across from the RAF to the US Air Force, and as soon as the papers were signed the corporal, now lieutenant, was to be with him for the rest of his career, if he so chose. And he damn well better choose to, I just stood in line for an hour to get him this bloody brand of tea.

"Peter?" Hogan called again, as he shrugged off his shoes and collapsed onto the leather couch, tired but happy to see that the fire was lit, as winter had come early and temperatures were dropping faster than he remembered. He rubbed his head tiredly. Everything would be one hundred per cent perfect if it weren't for the nightmares he had. And he could only imagine they were a product of the shell shocked thing the psychiatrist told him about, because nothing else would make sense. They occurred infrequently, and they were short and replaced soon enough with other dreams, but he couldn't help but wonder why it was always the same. His eyes drifted upwards to the crystal chandelier that Peter loved so much as his mind wandered, the crystal facets throwing gentle warm light over the living room. It was always the same waves of loneliness, the same pain, the same voice in those nightmares. He couldn't remember what the voice said anymore. He only knew that it promised his release if he cooperated and he always did. Afterwards he always awoke every morning with a very pliant and utterly gorgeous aide in his arms, so who was he to complain over a little discomfort? After all, he had endured worse at Stalag 13.

Hogan was brought back to the present as Peter entered the front door, kicking it open with a foot, "Rob, love, give us a hand," he said, his hands full of what appeared to be groceries. Hogan sprang to his feet, chuckling as Newkirk nearly tripped over the welcome mat as he was wont to do, taking the bags to reveal his partner's handsome face, sprinkled with snowflakes, "blimey, the traffic out there," he muttered, shutting the door as Hogan took the groceries to the kitchen, putting the brown bags on the counter and peering inside to see what his partner had brought home.

He was in the process of taking the groceries out of the bag when lean arms wrapped around his waist, and suffused his being as Peter nuzzled his neck,

"Don't I get a hello?" Peter's voice asked, low and sultry, and Hogan felt the involuntary smile spread across his face, as he turned in the man's embrace to place a gentle kiss on his lips, then his nose, then his forehead. Peter's arms moved to wrap around his neck, leaning fully into Hogan's warmth, "Hello," the colonel said, humouring the shorter man but meaning the welcome he wove into the word,

"Mmm, you're nice to come home to," Peter mumbled and Hogan chuckled, his arms going around Peter's waist, placing another feather-light kiss on his jaw,

"You bet," he said, cocky as ever, "I got your favourite tea, the line was two blocks long and I've now got hypothermia" he said into Peter's hair and he could feel more than see the smile,

"I don't deserve you," Peter replied and Hogan chuckled,

"I believe that's my line," he said, as Newkirk pulled back and they shared a long look, Hogan admiring the shade of blue that had fast become his favourite colour because it was always accompanied by such affection, and that too from someone who knew him for what he was, not just who he was and what he had done.

Yes, Hogan lived a charmed life.

"Well, that's five agents' names in two days, Herr Doctor Strauss," Major Kessel said, looking at the preening doctor who stood practically glowing in front of the fire. "Better work than most of our people could do in months,"

"Thank you, Major," the doctor said, "Hogan is pliant, and, I am surprised to say, stabilising," the doctor smiled, "He has very much calmed down and the pain he feels is greatly reduced, especially as I am now visiting at the same times every day. Whatever situation his mind has created seems to be working to keep Hogan fully in our grasp,"

Kessel leaned back against his desk and nodded, smiling, "I am sorry I ever doubted you Doctor," he added, crossing his legs at the ankle, the jackboots he had just polished shining in the brightly lit office, the mahogany of the desk and the black contrasting each other starkly, "I will see to it you are paid accordingly. I will send the reports on to Berlin,"

"Thank you, Herr Major," the Doctor snapped his heels together and walked briskly out of the room, closing the intricately detailed wooden doors behind him gently. Kessel smiled to himself. This whole project was going marvelously. The prisoner had calmed down; the dosage of the drug had finally been perfected. Kessel got up and poured himself a shot of brandy, allowing the hot burn of the whiskey to burn away the edge that he had been feeling for days.

As well as everything was going he just wasn't ready to simply accept it as the Doctor had, putting it all down to good luck. Hogan was surrounded by mystery for a reason. Nothing ever went to plan around him, and Kessel would be damned if he would join the ranks of the many officers, sent to the front because of mistakes they had foolishly made. He would see this through to the end. Whether that was his own or Hogan's was yet to be seen.

For the first time since the war had began, LeBeau found himself truly considering deserting. It had been bad enough when he had been captured and tortured then dumped into Stalag 13. Then colonel Hogan came along and changed all that. And now that there was a large chance their Colonel was gone for good…LeBeau sighed, resting on the desk with their coffee pot radio, watching the gentle rise and fall of Newkirk's sleeping form absentmindedly, as his fingers fiddled with the little toy soldier Hogan kept on the desk, a present from his nephew back home.

Earlier, after the horrible news, Kinch had pulled himself out of his shock, and quickly ordered Carter and LeBeau to see to it that Rudolph was clothed and fed appropriately, then given a bed for the night, as the young man had started to doze in his chair. He had protested that he wished to stay with them to plan their new tactics but Kinch had shook his head and gently guided the young man to a bunk in the next room over, telling him that they would need him at full alertness tomorrow and that that wasn't going to be the case if he was falling asleep. When Kinch had returned, and Carter and LeBeau had seen to Rudolph, they met back in the cavern and watched as Kinch drew from his last reserves to create a new plan. "I'll meet you upstairs when I figure it out," he said and they had nodded, sensing that he needed some time, as they all did, to try and cope, and perhaps even prepare themselves for the worst – that they might be too late to save the man who was, really, only in this situation because he had saved them.

LeBeau sighed. As much as he wanted to believe that yes, this time they would come up with the correct plan, his faith was battered and bruised. First it began with Newkirk's return and sickness, both physical, and though he didn't want to admit it, mental. Now the knowledge that the Colonel was being tortured and abused, pumped for all that precious information that he held in that intelligent mind of his, drained LeBeau of what little energy he had, leaving him with a bone-deep weariness.

Pulling him out of his dreary musings, Carter walked through the door, shutting it behind him with a quiet click and leaning against the wardrobe, crossing his arms across his chest, "How's Peter doing?" he asked, looking at the corporal and LeBeau dredged up a smile from somewhere to reply,

"He'll sleep through the night and I hope to bribe Schultz to let him sleep through roll call,"

"Well good, he needs it," Carter replied, and a silence fell between the two of them. Just as LeBeau was about to ask Carter what he thought about Rudolph, Kinch opened the door and motioned for the two of them to follow him, his eyes heavy with grief hidden behind the sharper light of determination.

They did as bid and followed him silently, the sleeping men of Barracks 2 undisturbed by their passage, used to their nightly activities, as they descended into the tunnels.

LeBeau and Carter took a seat around Kinch's desk looking expectantly at the sergeant,

"Well?" Carter asked, the unmistakeable note of hope so strong in his voice, LeBeau nearly winced for his own, more cynical view of the world,

"I have an idea," Kinch said, 'it's wild and its risky and frankly, Colonel Hogan would never approve,"

LeBeau snorted despite himself, "That's exactly the sort of plan he would approve," he said, pleased to draw a chuckle out of the sergeant's mouth,

"Yes well, here it is. We're going to Gestapo HQ,"

LeBeau and Carter weren't even remotely surprised, "I expected nothing less," LeBeau said, his usual humour somewhat subdued by the pall of worry that had fallen over their group, "How are we doing it?"

Kinch pointed at the table, at the map that was overlaid by a set of roughly drawn blueprints, "These," Kinch said, picking up the blueprints and handing them over to LeBeau and Carter for closer inspection, "were drawn for us by Rudolph because he refused to go to sleep and insisted he try and help. He said the best point of entry would be this back wall, as the window to Colonel Hogan's room is on the third floor here," he pointed to the rear end of the map,

"So, what, we just climb up, open the window, get the Colonel out and we're home?" Carter asked, somewhat, rather understandably, surprised. Kinch chuckled,

"No, the Germans don't make anything that easy. Rudolph also handed me a list of things to be wary of at HQ in case that was where we wanted to go, and we're lucky he did. The window is loaded with C4, the controller on the inside to the right side under the window, and if we open it and don't diffuse in 30 seconds, the whole room goes up," Carter and LeBeau seemed to freeze.

"Mon Dieu, Kinch this is the worst plan I've ever heard!" LeBeau finally exclaimed as he found his voice, Carter nodded fervently next to him,

"No it ain't," Kinch said, his gaze hardening as it turned to Carter, "Andrew you're the best demo man this side of the channel," he started,

"Yeah, I blow things up!" the sergeant interrupted, taking a step away from the table and dropping the blueprints as if they had burnt him, "I don't-"

Kinch's very carefully constructed emotional shields broke as a wave of frustration, irritation and guilt washed over him, "You do as you're damn well ordered!" he barked, his voice echoing in the cavern, and Carter looked like he had just been kicked.

More guilt flooded Kinch as he realised what he had done and he sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes, "I'm…sorry, Carter, I didn't mean to yell," he muttered,

"No it's okay, you're right," Carter replied, his eyes downcast, voice subdued and his shoulders tight with apprehension, "I shouldn't have questioned you,"

"No," Kinch looked up and met Carter's gaze, looking up at him from under his lashes, "It's been a rough day, forgive me?" he asked, his voice sincere and Carter nodded,

"Sure, Kinch. I mean, I know it's been hard without the Colonel," there was a moment of silence then, "but, I've never done this before," he added, the note of vulnerability underlying that admission making Kinch feel like the monster mother's warn their children away from,

"I was going to suggest you practice here with a few C4 timers," Kinch said, lowering his voice and talking more quietly, offering an olive branch.

"I…I can try, Kinch," Carter didn't sound sure but he didn't want the senior sergeant angry at him,

"You can do it," LeBeau said, forcing the optimism into his tone, "this is nothing for someone as good as you!" he added and was pleased to see Carter relax slightly,

Kinch wanted to quit right there, tell LeBeau that he would be a much better leader, a nicer, calmer leader, but then he realised that he was just running away from his problems, and never in the history of the world had that ever worked. And you have no right to take the frustration out on your comrades Kinch rebuked himself, before drawing his attention back to the conversation at hand,

"Andrew, you can do it, if I didn't believe so I would not have asked it of you,' Kinch said aloud and turned to LeBeau, "in addition, they have a listening device in the room, so I want you to go grab Daniels from Barracks 3 and whip us up some disrupting devices, do you think you can manage?" Kinch asked and the French corporal nodded,

"Yes, no problem, Kinch"

"Good. Once Newkirk is awake I'll talk him through what we're going to do, then I'll get to checking our climbing gear to make sure everything is in order,"

"Great!" LeBeau said, nodding, brutally stamping down the rising hope he felt in him. He would do his very best in this mission, but he would not allow himself to believe unless the Colonel was standing in front of them, whole and alive. His heart could take only so much heartbreak,

"Will you tell Peter tomorrow, Kinch?" Carter asked and the sergeant nodded,

"Yeah, I will. Then I'll probably spend the rest of the day telling him he definitely cannot accompany us on this mission,"

"Good luck on that," Le Beau said, before pausing and saying, "what about the guards outside the room?"

"We'll have to be very quiet but…if they do hear us, we kill them," Kinch finished with a grimace, and the other men, credit to them, simply nodded. It wasn't their style, but these were not normal times, "we cannot risk them alerting other guards,"

"And then how do we get the Colonel out if he's unconscious?" Carter asked, also trying to think of possible problems they might have,

"I was planning on building a harness for him," Kinch said, "so we can lower him down, out the window. There is no buildings on that side, it just faces the fields outside the town and it will be very dark, tomorrow is new moon. We shouldn't raise any suspicions."

"What's the design?" LeBeau asked,

"I was going to leave that to Newkirk, he's better than I could ever be and this way he feels less left out," Kinch managed a wry smile, "and will hopefully be so distracted he'll forget to punch me,"

"What about our old plan?" Carter suddenly piped up, remembering the elaborate task they had set themselves and the 20 officers who were coming to Stalag 13 in three days,

"We have to go ahead with it," Kinch said, "even if we get Hogan back, he can't come back into camp without risking Kessel coming back and taking him away from us,"

"So we still discredit Kessel?" LeBeau said,

"Yeah. Then we can reintroduce the Colonel, maybe as an escapee from Gestapo, or even use the underground to 'transfer' him back," Kinch shrugged, 'that's a problem for later though, we need to get this done first, yeah?" the sergeant looked up to the other two and they nodded, while he took a deep breath to steady himself.

LeBeau took a moment to look at Kinch, taking in how tired he looked, his slumped figure, his shoulders tight with tension and his normally focused gaze a little vague even as he looked at them, lacking his usual sharpness. His hat was askew and his jacket was more rumpled than it usually looked. Leadership seemed to weight heavy on him, but LeBeau still couldn't help but smile because under all that tension, there was concern for his team. He was a man driven by his morals and stuck to a strict code of honour, and that was one of his greatest redeeming traits, "You're a good leader," he said quietly, wishing he could take that tension away from the man but not sure how to do it, "don't feel like you're anything less, mon frère"

For a moment the two of them just exchanged a look, a warmth spreading through Kinch as a pleasant counterpoint to the cold fear that had gripped him nearly from the moment he took command. Before he could reply to LeBeau Carter cut in,

"We should get started, yeah?" he prompted from the side, having completely missed the moment between his colleagues, and Kinch broke his gaze to look at the sergeant,

"No, that's all for now, get to bed," Kinch ordered, "get some rest and we'll get started first thing tomorrow," he dropped into his seat at the radio command station,

"You're…not coming?' LeBeau asked,

"I am," Kinch said, "But I sent a message to the underground that we were going to need transport waiting for us near the hammelburg bridge, they said they'll call back,"

"Okay," LeBeau and Carter chorused,

"Don't stay up too late," LeBeau added as he and the sergeant turned away towards the ladder, and Kinch nodded, feeling the pall of anxiety fall over him again, though he was insincere in his agreement.

As if I could sleep now anyway.

Hope that makes up for the long as gap! Thanks so much to everyone who is following this story and all commenters/people who have given kudos. I write for you guys!

3 Aza