I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become. - C.G. Jung

Part Three

That evening Klink poured them both a drink in his office. It had been a long day for both of them. The men had wanted to see Newkirk and had been confused by Hogan's agreement with Klink that he was to have no visitors. It wore on Hogan like an anchor around his neck. He downed two Sherrys in very short order.

Klink watched him in silence then licked his lips and took a seat, gesturing for Hogan to do the same. "Remember I told you this afternoon that all of this happened when they supposedly transferred you to Stalag 9 for a month."

"I remember." Hogan helped himself to another drink."Things did seem odd for a while when I got back but I chocked that up to you splitting the boys up and Newkirk having been in the cooler for so long."

Klink smiled, bitter and mirthless."There was a lot of misdirection that went on, first by VonSchloss and then later by Newkirk and myself." Klink took a sip of his own libation. "It all started the day you left. Major VonSchloss came here looking for you, Colonel Hogan. He got your name from a Gestapo file. He was an obsessive man, very unhappy you were gone. He thought you were perfect for his expiraments."

Hogan tried to not think about what would have happened to him had he not gone to Paris. He had seen Newkirk without his jumper and undershirt when Klink had bandaged him. Every inch of his skin that Hogan could see was covered with scars, white and silver, puckered and smooth. They had not been so plentiful several months ago, though one could always tell that Peter had lived a hard life.

Klink finished his glass, staring intently down at the desk. "Newkirk was in my office when he arrived. I understand that the Corporal 'drew the short straw'. I was upset one of the Sargents wasn't doing it." If he concentrate Klink could see it all clear as the day it happened. "But he is good at keeping quiet when necessary, far better than you I might add. The Major barely noticed him at all, when he stormed into the office. It probably would have just blown over, and VonSchloss would have just left but Carter had forgotten something for the list." Klink paused again, struggling to continue. The memories were like oil, they stuck to you, left you feeling unclean. He lit a cigar just to delay speaking.

"He came in and VonSchloss, angry at the interruption, hit at him with a riding crop. Newkirk came to Carter's rescue and took it away from him, so quickly it took VonSchloss a moment to realize what happened." Klink poured them both another round and the stared at the stream of smoke snaking from his cigar.

"There was confusion, shouting and all the sudden Carter was gone, Newkirk was shouting at him to run. Then Newkirk was on the floor with one of The Gestapo kicking him. VonSchloss took Newkirk and myself in for 'questioning', supposedly to Berlin. But they took us to Dunkler Wald instead. I think they took me because VonSchloss was embarrassed that I saw Newkirk disarm him." Klink swallowed hard,his lips curling over his teeth. But the best could not scare what was inside of him.

"I'm not sure of the time. It comes in flashes, Newkirk was put into the same cell as myself, though sometime later. It could have been hours or days after we arrived. They had been interrogating him about the sabotage cell in the area of Stalag 13, and when he wouldn't talk just for the sheer pleasure of it."

Hogan tried to pacify his flip flopping stomach with more alcohol. Guilt and horror battled for the right to make him vomit first. He could barely keep dinner in it's proper place. Part of him demanded, screamed, that he open his mouth and beg, please with Klink to stop talking. But he clamped his jaw tightly shut instead, teeth grinding together. He had to know. He had to understand.

"He was covered in blood, and something inside his chest sounded broken. VonSchloss came in and gave us both injections. The shot felt like knives." Klink stopped to compose himself again, biting into his bottom lip. "It's fairly obvious what those were for."

"Take a break Kommendant. I'll fill in the next bit." A voice spoke so close to Hogan's ear that the Colonel jumped out of his chair. Behind him, on the cabinet, sat Newkirk. The Englishman grinned at Hogan as he began the ritual of removing a cigarette from a pack that was clearly Hogan's and lightning it. "Figured you two would be in here, talking shop, dredging up unpleasant memories." He took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. "Granted the Kommendant does have the bad 'abit of glossing over the more, shall we call them unsavory, parts."

"He hardly needs the whole description Newkirk." Klink bit out, though obviously glad to have the narrative taken from him. "We went there, you died, you woke up, the other vampires killed everyone and we escaped. Why complicate it with..."

"All the bloody details?" Newkirk's eyes glowed in the ember of his cigarette. They were impossibly predatory as he watched the Kommendant for a long, very uncomfortable minute. Finally Klink looked away. "You're right of course. The basics will do. I died with the rising sun and awoke again with the moon. In a way Klink did as well, though more in a metaphysical sense. It hurt, a lot."

Newkirk seemed to drift for a second, staring at the far wall thoughtfully. But he began talking in a few moments."The really interesting matters, and less nightmare inducing, began when we got back to camp. Klink was in trouble with General Bulkhalter, though we fixed that quickly, and I couldn't stay consious from dawn to dusk. And the blood lust...don't even get me started. It was like burning from the inside."

Hogan inched closer to Klink, hoping the movement would go unnoticed. But Newkirk turned his piercing stare to him and Klink rolled his eyes, though neither of them said anything. Peter puffed thoughtfully from his cigarette, it was burning at an alarming rate. He continued. "Thankful we had an unexpected ally in Schultz...and I was beginning to make sense of some my linage blood memories. The scientists mixed two strains of HVV so I have two sets to sort through. We found the best mix between what could be covered up with paperwork and what I needed to behave like a 'uman being again."

Newkirk hopped off his perch and found another glass and a decanter of something stronger than sherry. Then poured himself a drink, a double. "One transfusion every two weeks. Stored long enough that the blood memories are few."

Hogan frowned, running numbers in his head. "Can't Schultz and Klink give you more blood than that? And by transfusion do you mean with a needle?"

"Were blood is like booze, cigarettes and candy. It's not food. Human blood is what is needed to keep the hunger at bay, for me to heal or do magic. I could drink poor Schultzy dry and get nothing but a lovely high followed by a nasty hangover. And yes, with a needle. Better to leave my fangs shealthed as much as possible."

"Magic?" Hogan tried to concentrate on the one part of what Peter had just said, and ignore as much of the rest of it as possible.

Newkirk knew what he was doing and sighed. This was a bitter truth but it would be necessary in the long run to give Hogan all the information. He continued. "You heard right me Colonel. Magic is very real. It's how I got into this room without you noticing, or how I got Alder to let go of Klink."

"Or how Gestapo agents looking right at us in Hammelburg don't see anything?" Hogan thought back to a luck break from a recent mission, and how distracted Newkirk had seemed at a crucial moment. He had given him the third degree over that. Peter had born it in silence.

Newkirk nodded, knowing what his CO was thinking about. He didn't relish the memory anymore than the guv'ner did."Wite ya 're. That was tricky to do right in front of you, without wiping your memory. Each of those is a different sort of spell. Walking in ere without you noticing is as easy as breathing. Giving Klink the command, like the other morning, is very tricky and can have some nasty side effects. What I did with our Gestapo friend is easy but takes a fair bit of concentration or it's easy to over do it. Even staying awake during the day takes magic. And all magic takes blood." Peter downed his drink and put out the stub of his cigarette. He immediately lit another.

It struck Hogan, suddenly, how incredibly nervous Newkirk was. He was smoking cigarettes like they were going out of style, and he kept shifting like he couldn't sit still. It was like he was the only human in a room full of monsters.

Newkirk caught the thought, it hit him like a blow to the gut. Hogan had no idea how much he projected. The man thought as loudly as he crowed. The British Corporal stiffened, feeling how tender his body still was, how tired he still felt in the middle of the night. It was a wearyness that reached to the marrow.

Klink growled, a sound no human vocal cord could reproduce. It was like thunder in his chest. Hogan jumped, this time away from Klink. It put him close enough to reach out and grab Newkirk by the sleeve when he realized the Corporal was headed for the floor.

Klink moved, far to quickly for a man his age, and grabbed his other arm. "Dumkoff. You shouldn't have gotten out of bed." He guided Peter into one of the chairs. "Maybe if you fed like a sane vampire."

"No such bloody thing. We are all crackers one way or another."

Klink gripped Newkirk's arm harder than necessary and he winced. Klink ignored it, though he loosened his grip. "What happened the other night?" He demanded. "You were already weak when you came for Alder."

Newkirk sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. "Vark." He all but whispered.

"Vark?" Klink's face screwed up with confusion. "What is Vark?"

This was one question that Hogan knew the answer to. His stomach leaped into his throat. Every kid ever forced into English class knew that what Vark was made of, and vampires did not mix. "Edible silver, in the champagne. The toast at the hoffbrau." He swore in English, German and a healthy variety of Russian.

"Colonel Hogan!" Klink admonished.

Newkirk just cuckled. "I didn't get much. Should have been right as rain in a day or two."

"You don't need much. You can be killed by a silver plated ink pen. What were you thinking drinking it?" Klink sighed, his face stern.

"I would 'ave blown my cover if I 'adn't. Too many people to charm all at once. It was worth the risk."

"Like either side would care if they knew what you were." Klink snapped and rolled his eyes. "I am going to confine you to the cooler for seven days. Hogan, you will have to pretend to fight me on it, but it's too dangerous to put him back in the barracks. Maybe we can get some more blood from one of the Bear's wives, several of them are human. I'll go ask Schultz to put out a word with the mail courier. Hogan stay with him for a few, but not within arm length." Klink strolled out of the office without waiting for acknowledgment.

Hogan watched him go and then looked at Newkirk."What did he mean by that?" He asked, afraid he already knew the answer. Subconsciously he took a step towards the door.

Newkirk couldn't blame him. It was natural for the Colonel to be nervous, even afraid. It was hardwired into humans to be afraid of the night and the night creatures, the darkness and what it contained. He didn't answer Hogan. He just turned his tired gaze to the floor.

They waited like that for several minutes. Then an unanswered question probed at Hogan's mind.

"Wait if you and Klink became..." Monsters, he left the word unspoken but saw Newkirk flinch anyways. The idea that vampires may be able to read minds sent a chill down his spine, and a stab of guilt through his heart."...what you are at this Castle. What about Schultz?"

Newkirk chuckled, his pinched face relaxing some. "Schultz was born a bear Colonel."

That's when the far wall of the office exploded.

End of Part Three

The pendulum of the mind oscillates between sense and nonsense, not between right and wrong. - C.G. Jung