Author's Note: I don't own Hogan's Heroes. This is a fictional story any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.
LeBeau and Kinch parted ways as soon as they were underground. Kinch turned right in the direction of the barracks that were closest to the north end of camp. While LeBeau went left, back the way he had come. He stopped briefly, when he reached the armory room, and quickly replaced the pistol and it's extra magazine.
After checking his watch, he resumed his journey to the spot where he'd left Jocelyn. Then he cautiously checked the area to make sure there was no one around before he called to her.
She picked her way out of the thicket and brushed leaves off of her clothes. "Where are we going?" she asked, for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.
"I need you to be completely quiet, cheri." he urged her, as he guided them toward the fence. They ducked down when the spotlight swept over them. LeBeau stared at his watch and began counting down the seconds. "Get ready to run." he whispered.
There was a loud ruckus, causing the spotlights to swing inward and the guards rushed forward, leaving their end of the camp unguarded. "Now!" he pulled her to her feet and ran to the fence. She stumbled after him and couldn't help thinking he had lost his mind. She let out a squeak of surprise as LeBeau lifted the fence… the actual fence, about a foot and a half into the air.
He grinned at her reaction and motioned for her to crawl under, then he followed her and replaced the fence. Taking her hand, he pulled her to the left, ducking behind buildings until they reached a light-colored building that was set aside from the others.
LeBeau peeked around the corner of the building. The guards were all caught up in the scrum of prisoners, so now was his chance. He darted forward, opened the door and shoved Jocelyn into the room. He followed behind her, closing the door. He leaned against the door, panting slightly.
Sergeant Joe Wilson stared, his eyes wide, at the attractive, young woman standing in front of him. Joe was the camp's medic and, all though he was used to the antics the heroes pulled, he was not used to being pulled into them for non-medical reasons.
"What is she doing here?" he asked, his voice quiet, but rather anxious. "Shouldn't she be in the tunnel… I mean the sun's gone down, but it isn't completely dark, yet."
"Please, monsieur," Jocelyn whispered, her french accent becoming slightly stronger with emotion, "let me stay here, instead."
LeBeau moved her over to a corner out of sight of the windows, "We have to keep her here, Joe." then he went to the stove, swiveling it out to reveal a tunnel, "Keep an eye on her and keep her out of sight. The colonel will be back soon and we can get her out of Germany." he disappeared into the tunnel.
"Sure..." Joe hissed into the tunnel, "You're not the one they'll shoot for harboring a spy."
LeBeau rolled his eyes as he caught Joe's parting sentence. If we get caught we'll all be up against the wall. He couldn't think about it any more, for he had to get back to the cooler before anyone noticed he was gone. He traveled the dim tunnels with surprising ease and a few moments later, he was being helped up into the cooler cell.
"Did it work?" Olsen asked, as he unlocked his cell, moved down the hall, and opened the other cell door. Kinch handed Olsen the small dummy in the French uniform.
LeBeau nodded, "Oui, Jocelyn is safe with Joe. I think I saw Colonel Hogan, he was getting out of Hochstetter's truck. When Hochstetter's done questioning him, we can make a plan to get her out of Germany entirely." he had a smile a mile wide. Kinch couldn't help but smile back.
Olsen locked their cell door and took the dummy into his cell and over to the tunnel. He dropped the thing down the tunnel. Turning around, he locked his own cell door and moved over to the listening hole as Kinch asked about Carter, "How is he? Where is he?"
LeBeau sighed and his good mood dampened, "I don't know. Everyone was in the farmhouse." he shrugged, turning his palms upward, "The colonel was so insistent that I not get to close. Pierre went to get a good look, but he didn't tell me anything before he went to play decoy." LeBeau clenched his hand and unclenched it a couple of times, "The fool fired into the house to keep the krauts' attention off Jocelyn. When Jocelyn came out, we ran and didn't look back."
Olsen growled in frustration, "Great! What makes you think Hochstetter isn't going to want to talk to him...then we'll all be sunk."
LeBeau's eyes narrowed, "That isn't my fault, mon ami."
"This isn't your fault?!" Olsen snapped, "Why, you didn't give two hoots about how dangerous it was for any of us to start that fight. You didn't care about Carter or Newkirk...all you cared about was your precious French dame."
"Now wait a minute," LeBeau exclaimed in defense, "Don't blame any of this on me. Newkirk is the one who screwed up the mission and if Carter had simply gotten captured like he was told..."
"If Andrew 'adn't been there, your bird woulda been cut ta ribbons." Newkirk's thick cockney accent, cut into the argument and filled the two cells, "Now, shut it, the both of you."
"You're back." Kinch said, in relief. He couldn't see him, but just hearing his voice was reassuring. Everyone was back, except Carter, and this nightmare would end soon. "How was Carter?"
"I'm not sure." the Englishman's voice was strained, "The colonel got a better look at 'im, but from what I did see, 'e was in worse shape than me."
"Joe should look at that leg." Olsen told Newkirk, solemnly. He had turned when the Englishman had first spoken. Newkirk was breathing heavily and had a hand to the side of his bloodied thigh. Olsen had helped him over to the cot and had been inspecting the wound while Newkirk filled Kinch in on Carter.
"It'll be okay." Newkirk gritted his teeth and undid the button of his pants, "Just get me a bandage and a clean pair of trousers."
Olsen complied, while LeBeau and Kinch peppered their friend with questions. Newkirk ignored them and finished taking off his pants. He was using the leg to stop the flow of blood, when they all heard Schultz outside talking to Langensheidt.
"Get 'is attention." Newkirk hissed, as Olsen handed him the bandage and placed clean pair of pants beside him on the cot.
Olsen quickly covered the tunnel entrance as Kinch hollered over to Schultz, "Hey, how's Carter?"
"And where's the colonel?" LeBeau added, plastering himself against their cell door.
Schultz hobbled down the hallway, "Oh, boy, did you guys miss the action."
"What happened?" Olsen asked, using his body to block Schultz's view of Newkirk, while the latter finished securing the bandage across his wound. "I mean how hard could it be to find Andrew?"
"Oh, we found Carter, but he was taken by General Lutzen." Schultz told him, as he stood in front of Kinch and LeBeau's cell. "He is in terrible shape. The kommandant took him into Hammelburg for treatment, but I don't know if it will be enough." Schultz moved over to Olsen and Newkirk's cell.
"Think good thoughts and say your prayers, Schultzie." Newkirk said, walking, stiffly over to the door of the cell and putting his hand on the hefty guard's shoulder, "Andrew's 'arty, made from strong Midwest stuff, or so 'e tells me. 'E'll be just fine."
Olsen saw Newkirk slip a small metal object into the pocket of Schultz's coat. Olsen, unconsciously, put a hand on his pocket where the key had been. Peter, you're too good at that, He thought, with a small shake of his head and asked, "So, what are you doing here?"
"General Burkhalter wants to question you in the kommandant's office." Schultz dug around for his keys, "If I can find the key." he grumbled. He had just turned to ask Langenschiedt for the key, when he finally found it in his coat pocket. He stared at it for a couple moments.
"Something wrong, Schultz?" Kinch asked, innocently, hoping the German would leave it be. The guard looked unsure… as if there was something he couldn't remember, but should remember.
"I never put this key in this pocket."
"You better hurry up and open the door." Kinch said, to distract him, "Burkhalter's liable to be angry if you take to long."
"Ja..." he replied, shaking his head and unlocking the cell doors, "We'd better hurry."
1*****************************1
Klink paced along the hallway in the hospital. It was a tiny hospital, more like a clinic than a proper hospital, but it would have to do. The doctors had taken Carter back immediately, while a nurse attended to young Wilburt.
It had been almost two hours since they'd left the farmhouse and Klink was getting impatient. He'd been having a mental argument with himself during those two hours. One side argued that there was absolutely nothing that would justify Luzen's actions. It was cruel and senseless… but, the other side pushed back. Carter had gotten what was coming to him. If he hadn't of escaped then none of this would've happened. However, even if that were true, did his punishment fit the crime?
Klink's inner turmoil went unnoticed by the stalag guards, who had brought back supper plates from the Hoffbrau. They were eating their late supper and joking with each other. No one noticed when the doctor came out of the back room. He stopped briefly at the nurse's desk, exchanged a few words with her, and then continued on to the group of soldiers.
"Kommandant Klink?" he inquired. Klink stepped closer and nodded, his lips tight with anxiety.
"I'm Doctor Pheiffer." he smiled tiredly, "You're young man will be perfectly fine, as long as he gets some rest. I was concerned about the vomiting, but he appears to be doing better." He paused and emphasized his next words, "He can go home, but absolutely no duty until he is fully recovered."
"Of course, of course." Klink nodded, impatiently, "But what about my prisoner, how is he doing?"
"The American?" Doctor Pheiffer rubbed the back of his neck, "He..." the doctor shrugged, "I just don't know. He has not regained consciousness nor has he shown any signs of improvement."
"So you will have to keep him." Klink concluded, "I will make sure to have a guard here at all times."
The doctor frowned deeply, "He won't be staying here. We don't have the space for him." Then he chuckled, "Besides, he's just an American."
"That's what I said." one of the guards muttered, causing Klink to glower at him. The guard flinched and poured all of his attention into his plate. Klink shifted his glare to the doctor and spoke slowly in a low, gravely tone, "Are you suggesting that he not receive treatment?"
Doctor Pheiffer stiffened, "Of course not, but the fact remains that I do not have room for him and he is a lower priority than OUR wounded returning from the front."
"He is my prisoner and, in accordance with the Geneva Convention, he will be placed in this hospital to receive medical care." Klink stated, firmly. "Anything less, is completely unacceptable."
"I am the head of this hospital and I will decided who is or is not admitted." Doctor Pheiffer, turned his back on Klink and stalked down the hall and into an office.
Klink sputtered and started to follow when the nurse at her desk called out to him, "Kommandant?"
"Yes?" he snapped. She smiled timidly and motioned for him to come closer. As he did, she wrote something down on a slip of paper. She handed him the slip and whispered,
"Doctor Pheiffer is not a bad man, but he has a lot on his mind. You and your stalag have worked with Doctor Voll before, yes?"
Klink nodded, "A few months ago, why?"
"Doctor Voll and his wife will accept any patient into their home. His address is on the paper." she said, reassuringly. "They will give him good care."
Klink read the address and then asked where Carter and Wilburt were. The nurse told him and then him gave brief directions. Klink ordered his guards to get Carter and while he went to get Wilburt. Less than an hour later, they had Carter settled at Doctor Voll's house with a guard posted on the door to his room.
Klink and his other men were on their way back to the stalag with Wilburt. As Klink sat in the back of the truck, he spoke with the young S.S. corporal. Wilburt buried his face in shame as he explained everything that he had done...everything he'd seen Lutzen do. Klink put a comforting hand on his shoulder and told him to recount all of this to General Burkhalter and that he would do everything he could to help.
Wilburt looked at the sincerity in the kommandant's face and relaxed a bit. Just a few more miles and he would be able to end this, once and for all.
1***********************1
Hogan stepped into the kommandanteur and an uneasiness swept over him. Everything rested on their ability to convince Burkhalter, but Hogan wasn't the only one trying to convince him, he had to out talk Lutzen...
Helga was standing by her desk and laid a concerned hand on his arm as he passed her. He met her gaze, but his usual grin wasn't there and he shrugged off her hand, continuing into the office. For the first time since his arrival at Stalag Thirteen, Helga felt her confidence in him waver.
Hochstetter was growling accusations at Lutzen, in his usual brusque manner. Lutzen rolled his eyes in disdain and hurled his own belittling remarks toward the major.
Burkhalter made his way to the desk and settled his girth into the chair behind it. Hogan chose to stand by the door, which he had closed.
"Ahem," Burkhalter cleared his throat to get Hochstetter and Lutzen's attention, "We are here to discuss a very serious matter, Dietrich. Major Hochstetter believes you to be guilty of murdering Sergeant Ernst Weis and stealing a prisoner."
"Actually, if you'll forgive the intrusion," Hogan said, projecting as much intrepidity as he could, "He murdered a subordinate, allowed a prisoner to escape, and violated the Geneva convention."
Lutzen glared at the American and immediately protested, "I did nothing of the sort."
Hochsetter jumped in, "Ernst is dead, the girl is gone, and I blame you!"
Burkhalter slammed his fist onto the desk, "I will run this inquiry. Hochstetter, please keep your outbursts limited to facts." he waited for Hochstetter to mumble his apologies, and continued, "And as for you, Hogan, you will keep your mouth shut until you are spoken to."
Lutzen smirked, "I'm glad you don't believe all of their lies, Albert." seeing Burkhalter's sober expression, Lutzen sat up straighter, "We've known each other since we were children, surely you don't think that I am capable of what they accuse?"
Burkhalter smiled, "Why don't you tell me." he motioned to Hochstetter, "Major Hochstetter has been sending petitions to the highest levels of the S.S. and the Gestapo. He doesn't like your methods and has claimed that you are unstable."
Lutzen sent Hochstetter a hateful glare and said, bitterly, "Hochstetter is the poorest example of the Gestapo. He has questioned my authority from the beginning and if we want to talk about instability, I think that fits him to a T."
Burkhalter nodded, "I see, and the sergeant? What happened to him?"
Lutzen sighed, "As I tried to tell Hochsetter, he was an underground operative. He refused to turn the prisoner over to me, even though I had every right to her and I, by far, out ranked him."
Hochstetter started to protest when Hogan interjected, "At worst that makes him insubordinate, not a traitor. How did you come to the conclusion that he works for our side?"
Lutzen stood and faced him, "I will not be questioned by vermin like you."
They stood exchanging cold glares until Hochstetter stepped in between them and Burkhalter asked Lutzen to retake his seat. "Colonel Hogan, though out-of-order, makes an interesting point. What is your proof that Weis was a traitor?"
"I..." Lutzen shifted uncomfortably, "I don't have any solid proof, but Albert, had you been there, you would have done the same thing."
Burkhalter gave him a disgusted look, "I doubt that, Dietrich; however, even if I had I wouldn't have run away like a man guilty of murder."
Lutzen scowled, "I did not run away. I took my prisoner and questioned her as to the whereabouts of the missing microfilm."
"Why didn't you question her in the interrogation rooms in Hammelburg?" Hochstetter sneered, "Why did she need removed from a secure facility to a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere? And why did you send your men away, except for the poor corporal, who you almost killed?"
Lutzen started to breathe heavily, "I do not answer to either of you. I do not have to explain myself...to justify my actions." he pointed directly to Hochstetter, "I will have you demoted until you are nothing but a janitor. And Albert, why don't you just stay out of my business and go back to running your pitiful stalags. Stalags that are the base of major espionage rings."
Hogan stiffened, and started to argue when their was a knock on the door. Burkhalter granted admission and one-by-one Olsen, Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk filed in with Schultz bringing up the rear. He snapped to attention, "The prisoners from the cooler, as requested, Herr General."
"Shut the door." Burkhalter motioned for the POWs to line up beside Hogan, "Dietrich, whether you like it or not, Berlin has put me in charge. The Fuhrer has left you fate in my hands, he will follow my recommendations to the letter." Burkhalter stood and moved to the front of the desk. Perching on the corner, he asked, "Which of these prisoners do you suspect as being a part of the spy ring?"
Lutzen turned in his chair to face them and he recognized the first one as the major who was with the American sergeant. The second in line was unfamiliar, but the third was the little Frenchman that had been with the girl. The fourth… He stood, his eyes wide, "The Englander!" he stepped close to Newkirk. "I have you now and I will see you dead."
P.S. So, I know I said not to expect the next chapter for another week, but surprisingly, this one practically wrote itself. I really expected to fight with it, but that was obviously not the case. :D
I'm trying to figure out how I want to end this one and whether or not to write a third one. My readership for these two stories have been wonderful, but I don't want to milk it for more than it's worth...such a dilemma. Well, I hope everyone had a good summer and I'll get the next chapter up when it's done. Much love! :D
