Disclaimer: I do not own 'Hogan's Heroes' or 'Twelve O'clock High', the only thing I own is the plot. All rights belong to their respective owners and creators.

This work is complete fiction and any resemblance to actual people or missions (unless specifically stated) is coincidental.

"I'm going to find my commanding officer," Komansky stated, trying to push his way past the medic, who remained firm.

"You can't do that," Wilson insisted. He noticed a glint in the younger man's eye, not that much different than the look Newkirk got when you stood between him and something he wanted to do. "Just think about it," he said, trying to reason with the younger man. "Your commander has likely been caught… probably by the Gestapo. The only way to get him out is with an established operation, which we have."

Wilson didn't miss Komansky's hesitation and capitalized on it, "Once my colonel's done upstairs, he can poke around and find out where your commander is. I promise, but until then your services are needed else where… namely by giving me another set of hands with your captain."

"He'll look for the Colonel?" Komansky asked. Wilson held up three fingers in the boy scout salute. "Okay, what can I do?" He gave in and allowed Wilson to pull him over to O'Brien.

ACT IV

Harvey had been fidgeting ever since General Britt had shut himself away in Joe's office. His thoughts mainly swirled around the mission and Komansky's words this morning... I get the feeling that there's something more to this mission. Something I'm not gonna like.

Oh, how right he had been! There was something more to this mission and Harvey was so close to storming into the office and demanding the details. The only thing that kept him in check was his suspicion that Britt knew as little as he did.

When he'd delivered the General's supper, he'd overheard him arguing on the phone. He was demanding access to General Pritchard or else he'd speak with General Mitchell.

General Stewart Mitchell was Pritchard's direct superior and for Britt to threaten to bring him in meant that Pritchard had to be stonewalling him.

But why? Harvey wondered, why is everything being kept from us? He sat, elbows resting on his desk, and marveled at how such a simple, average day had turned into such a mess.

The phone rang and he snatched it up, "Hello… speaking… how many came back?" He closed his eyes and leaned against his desk. "Okay, send the lead pilot over to Colonel Gallagher's office, right away."

He hung up, stood and crossed the room to Gallagher's door. After a quick rap on the door, he stepped in, "They're back, sir."

Britt looked up and covered his phone receiver, "How many?"

"Six, sir," Harvey said, barely keeping his emotions in check. "Six out of eighteen."

"Gallagher?"

Harvey swallowed the lump in his throat, "The Piccadilly Lily was not one of the six that returned. I had the lead pilot ordered to come here as soon as he lands. I thought you'd want to debrief him yourself."

Britt nodded and motioned for him to sit down. Harvey took the seat closest to the stove.
"They just got back," Britt said into the phone. "Yes, I'll bring the report back with me. Yes, sir. Good-bye." He hung up the phone and reached for his mug of coffee. He took a swallow and grimaced as he swallowed the cold, bitter brew. They sat in silence as they waited for the pilot to arrive. Both thinking about how odd everything was, in regards to this mission.

About fifteen minutes later, the door to Gallagher's office opened and a lean, young man entered. His face was grim and eyes were tired, but he snapped to a perfect salute. "Major Anthony Plasket, reporting as directed, sir."

"At ease, Major." Britt looked him over before motioning the seat beside Harvey, "What happened?"

Plasket sank into the chair. "What happened?" he scoffed, "it all went to pot, that's what happened!"

Britt cocked an eyebrow at the younger man's lack of respect. Plasket dropped his gaze as he shifted in his seat, "Sorry, sir… may I smoke?"

When Britt nodded, Plasket dug an almost empty pack out of his breast pocket. "Everything went like a dream, from the time we took off until about ten minutes from the IP." He slid the cigarette between his lips and lit it with his worn Zippo. He took a deep drag and sighed, "The Colonel led us down and… it was like they came out of nowhere… Well over a dozen fighters, probably closer to two or maybe even three dozen."

Harvey leaned forward. A frown deepened the lines of his face. "Group Captain Sherburne's report didn't say anything about encountering such heavy fighter activity on previous missions."

Plasket's hand shook slightly as he flicked the ash into a tray on the desk, "Wasn't in the briefing either."

"Then what happened?" Britt pushed him to continue.

Plasket stared passed Britt's shoulder through the window pane. "They knocked one plane down before we even started to turn, but Colonel Gallagher kept going. He reached the IP did his turn… that's when most of the fighters left the rest of the formation.
They pummeled the first group. It was all Gallagher could do to get them through it. My group ran in second followed by Colonel Dane's group." He paused, meeting Britt's gaze "We all managed to drop our loads. I don't think we hit the target, though."

"You didn't hit it?" Britt slammed his hand on the top of the desk, "all of those losses and you missed?"

Plasket shrugged, "You'd have to check the film to be sure, but there was no massive explosion like you'd expect with a refinery bombing."

"What happened to Colonel Gallagher?" Harvey asked, dreading the answer.

"His plane was in rough shape coming out of the target," Plasket answered slowly. "He handed control of the group to Colonel Dane and then he went off air. I can't swear that he made it out, but one of his squadron reported that they saw chutes. After the third group made it through, we continued, as best we could, to the rally point."

"But only six made it," Britt finished, anger bleeding into his voice. This whole mission was a waste and it wasn't even supposed to happen.

Plasket scoffed again, "Twelve made it to the rally point… eight made it to our fighter escort, but only six made it to Archbury. The krauts didn't leave 'til our fighter friends started giving them some losses."

Britt stood and turned his back on the two majors. There were no fighters when the English had it… now there are, he silently put the pieces together as he stared out the window. The only reason to increase protection that heavily and in such a short span of time would be if theywere expecting us…

"Excuse me, General," Plasket interrupted his musings. "May I go? My co-pilot took some shrapnel in the shoulder. He's in with Doc Kaiser and I'd like to check on him."

Britt nodded without looking his way. Harvey walked the young man to the door and quietly reminded him to get some rest after he'd visited his co-pilot. Plasket nodded and hurried out. Harvey turned back to the General, who hadn't moved. Deciding against disturbing his thoughts, Harvey went to the stove and set about making a new pot of coffee.

"Forget the coffee, Stovall." Britt said, finally. He reached for his over coat. He hated the conclusions he'd come up with and decided the only person with the answers he needed was Pritchard. He reached for his cane and limped over to the door. "I want everyone restricted to base until I send further orders."

TOH~HH

"Hogan, this is the most outrageous stunt your men have ever pulled!" Kommandant Wilhelm Klink fumed. His riding crop was tucked under his arm and his monocle glinted every time a spotlight swung back over them. "My men risked their lives to put out a fire that could've spread to the prisoner's barracks. But how do you thank us… by trying to escape. You should have known we would be patrolling. Foolishness… pure foolishness."

Hogan gritted his teeth and took the verbal assault as calmly as he could. "It wasn't a sanctioned escape, Kommandant," he tried to say.

"That's worse!" Klink yelped, "I have warned you, Hogan. If you cannot control your men then I will have to crack down." One of the younger guards, Corporal Langensheidt, rushed up and whispered into Klink's ear. He glared at Hogan before ordering all the prisoners confined to their barracks and that all the barracks be searched.

"Now, wait a second," Hogan said, frowning. He wasn't worried that they'd find the tunnels; better men than Klink's had searched without discovering them, but he had put up some sort of protest.

"I admit that Newkirk was wrong to escape like he did, but that's no reason to rip up our homes. The Geneva Convention..."

"The Convention does not forbid a kommandant from searching his camp for a missing prisoner," Klink interrupted. "If you don't want my men to search your barracks then tell me where Sergeant Wilson is."

"Wilson?" Hogan played dumb. "Have you looked in the infirmary? He is the medic, after all…"

Klink stamped his foot like a petulant child, "Hooogan!"

Hogan fought the twitch at the corners of his mouth. No matter how silly Klink looked, laughing at him would not serve Hogan's purposes, "Look, he probably saw the airmen… I mean, we all did… maybe he's trying to help with wounded."

"Hogan, get back to your barracks or you will be in the cooler with the Englander," Klink nodded to his guards, who began to push the complaining prisoners toward their barracks. Hogan protested the rough treatment, but Klink wasn't listening as he went back to the kommandantur.

The prisoners of barracks two heckled the two guards who were more interested in causing destruction than they were in an actual search. Hogan watched them carefully, all while maintaining the casual appearance of disinterest. He couldn't help feeling a bit nervous when they began tossing LeBeau and Baker's bunk, but as usual they didn't find anything. He put a stop to the search when they began ripping up the pillows. A few comments about complaints to the Red Cross and the guards abandoned, not just their search, but the barracks as well.

"Olsen, keep an eye on the door," Hogan commanded before he and the rest of the heroes went back underground.

He threw his crush cap onto the radio table and sat, leaning against the edge. Baker, LeBeau, and Carter crowded around him in a circle. "Okay, fellas," he began, "this is a bigger group than we normally handle. We'll need to keep organized if we're to have any hope of pulling this off."

"We'll need Pierre out of the cooler for the IDs," LeBeau stated the obvious. "But Andre and I can get their clothes ready." Carter pulled a face, but agreed when LeBeau elbowed him in the side.

"And I can start taking names and numbers," Barker offered. "I'll check them with London's files."

"You can also ask our English friends for a parachute drop," Wilson said, joining the group. He handed a slip of paper to the radio man. "I need these supplies."

"No way," Hogan shook his head. "We can't do that, Doc."

"We don't have much of a choice. Captain O'Brien is hurt badly and I don't like his chances without blood plasma," Wilson said.

Hogan thought for a moment, "Perhaps one of us could have an 'accident' and let Klink get the plasma for us..."

Wilson shook his head, "No good, the Nazis don't use blood plasma. Any transfusions they do are direct from one man to another."

"Can't you just do that?" Carter asked, "We have everyone's blood types listed on their tags."

"We don't have the equipment and besides," Wilson looked down and shifted his feet, "I'm just a medic… if anything went wrong..."

Hogan sighed, "Okay, Joe, I'll ask London… no promises, though. They might not want to put anyone else through that meat grinder for just one man." Wilson looked away, but nodded his understanding. "In the meantime," Hogan continued, "You need to go get caught. I'll get you and Newkirk out tomorrow morning."

Wilson mumbled something about checking on his patients before he 'got caught' and left them. LeBeau patted Carter's arm and motioned for the American to follow him. Hogan scratched his cheek, "Baker, get London on the radio and I'll talk to them… remember to ask for Big Bad Wolf."

Baker sat down at the radio and began tapping while Hogan looked over the men they'd collected. Twenty men and over half of them were wounded. He couldn't get them out immediately. They'd need time for Newkirk to make their papers. Besides, the woods were too hot and would remain that way for several days. So, he'd have to find extra rations to keep them long term.

That's not even taking into account the leak in London, Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose. We could be uncovered at any moment… He smirked to himself, so, just another day at the office.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm Sergeant Komansky."

Hogan looked up and met the hopeful gaze of one of his guests. Komansky shuffled his feet awkwardly, "Sergeant Wilson said that you could help me find my colonel."

"Colonel?" Hogan sat upright, "there was a colonel on this mission?"

"Yes, sir," he confirmed, "Colonel Gallagher of the Nine-Eighteenth. He jumped after Captain O'Brien and I jumped."

"Are you sure he got out?" Hogan asked. "I mean, did you actually see him bail out?"

"No, sir, I didn't, but I'm sure he got out," Komansky insisted. "I've looked through the men here, but I haven't found him."

"If he got out safely," Hogan exhaled slowly, "then he's probably already been captured, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir," Komansky nodded. "that's what I figured, but Sergeant Wilson said that your outfit could ask around… found out where the krauts took him."

Hogan made a mental note to chew out the medic. He should know better than to talk about the operation so carelessly. "Look, we might be able to do something, but not right now."

Komansky was silent for a moment, but if Hogan thought he was going to sit back and do nothing … he had another think coming. "If you won't help me, sir then I'll find him myself." he turned and started to march away, when Hogan grabbed his arm.

"Now wait one minute," Hogan snapped. "Those woods are crawling with krauts. You won't be going above ground until we're ready to send you home."

Komansky glared at him, "You might be willing to abandon Colonel Gallagher, but I won't."

"Take it easy, Sandy," Westly said, soothingly. He'd spotted Komansky approaching the Colonel. Knowing his friend as he did, he'd eased up behind Komansky and put a restraining hand on his shoulder, "Colonel Hogan's right, we can't risk getting caught. Blowing their operation won't help anybody."

Komansky visibly calmed, but his voice still held some temper, "And sitting around here twiddling my thumbs will?"

"We have twenty men to get back to England," Hogan said, hoping the young man would listen to reason. "That's twenty men that I have to feed and provide with clothes and papers. I will find Colonel Gallagher, but not at the risk of these men or the men of this camp. You will stay put until you are told to move. Is that clear, Sergeant Komansky?"

Komansky lowered his gaze. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, before walking back to O'Brien's bedside and sitting in a chair beside him.

Westly gave a shaky chuckle, "Sandy's okay, really… he's just worried, that's all… we're all just plain worried."

Hogan dismissed him with a nod, watching as the other sergeant shuffled over beside Komansky. Colonel Gallagher… London's likely to have us rescue him, He thought irritably. Just add that to our ever growing to-do list. He went back to Baker, "Did you get London, yet?"

"Yes, sir," Baker stood and offered the chair to his commander. "We're on stand-by while they get Big Bad Wolf." He watched Komansky from across the room, "you didn't make a friend out of him. He's also got a bit of a temper… could be a problem."

Hogan took the seat and put the headset on, "Keep an eye on him, Baker. If he tries to do something stupid, I want to know about it first."

Author's Note:

Sorry, it took so long to edit and update. It's been quite an eventful July and start of August, for me... but things should settle back down through the end of August - start of September.
I hope you all are well and that you enjoyed this newest update. I value your feedback, so if you have any comments or criticisms, please leave a review. I read them and alway do my best to learn from them; taking them into account every time I open my Libre Office. Anyway, thanks again... Cheers!