Chapter 17 --- A Threat Removed

"NO!!!" Hogan cried as Von Strasser aimed his weapon. He squeezed his eyes shut the minute Von Strasser pulled the trigger. Even LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Newkirk turned their heads so they couldn't see. Afterwards, Hogan and the others forced themselves to look in Mitchell's direction.

Mitchell had squeezed his eyes shut when Von Strasser aimed his weapon at him, waiting for the agony he knew was forthcoming. He heard the sound of Von Strasser's gun being fired. But he never felt any pain. Opening his eyes, puzzled, he ran his hands over his entire body and was surprised to feel no bullet wounds nor see any blood. Not understanding, he looked at Von Strasser who started to laugh as he slid his pistol back into it's holster.

"The gun was loaded with blanks," Von Strasser smirked, still chuckling. He looked over at Hogan who by now was seething, his face darkening. "You see, Colonel. I do have a sense of humor on occasion."

Hogan, who by now had managed to straighten up, tried to lunge at the SS Major, but was held back by Kinch and Newkirk. Von Strasser slowly walked over to where Hogan stood as Carter retrieved the Colonel's crutches and handed them to Hogan.

Von Strasser stood close to the American and whispered in Hogan's ear. "When I put a bullet in your head, you can be assured it will not be a blank, but the real thing." Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk, who were still surrounding Hogan, all glared at the Major.

"Why don't you drop dead, you filthy Bosche!" spat LeBeau. "You are a sick, twisted individual! Filthy Kraut!"

Von Strasser's hand shot out and grabbed the little Frenchman around the throat and started to squeeze. LeBeau tried frantically to pry Von Strasser's fingers away from his throat. He was starting to suffocate.

"Let 'im go, Major," Hogan demanded angrily. "If you have a beef with me you deal with me. Not my men. Now let LeBeau go or else!"

Von Strasser smirked. "Or else what, Hogan? What will you do, eh? Are you prepared to die for your man here? If you are, I will release him."

Without hesitation, Hogan looked directly into the major's eyes. "You want to shoot me? Then go ahead and get it over with! Just leave my men alone!"

Smiling, Von Strasser released LeBeau who coughed repeatedly as he fought to get air back in his lungs again. Newkirk slapped LeBeau on his back gently. "You okay, LeBeau?" he asked, concerned.

With tears in his eyes, the feisty little Frenchman nodded. "I'm okay now, Newkirk. Thanks."

Hogan glanced at LeBeau, concerned. "Are you okay, LeBeau?" The Frenchman nodded. "Oui, Colonel." Hogan then turned back to the Major.

"You're damn lucky LeBeau's all right. If he had been harmed I would've killed you, you bastard!"

Von Strasser grinned as he glanced over his shoulder at Klink who stood rooted in fear in the same spot he was originnaly in. "You hear this , Klink? I'm being threatened by a crippled swine!"

"Y'know, Major...." Hogan began with a smirk on his face. Von Strasser turned towards him. "I'm sick of your name calling. I'm sick of your twisted games. But most of all, I'm sick of you. So why don't you crawl back under whatever rock you slithered out from under."

"Because, Colonel, I have not completed the reason I am here for. And after I have, I will, as you say, slither back under my rock." He then turned towards Schultz. "Sergeant Schultz, you will bring Sergeant Mitchell to the Kommandant's office for questioning. Colonel Hogan is not invited. If he tries to barge in, arrest him! Understood?!"

Schultz swallowed nervously. "Jawohl, Herr Major." He gently grabbed the still shaken Mitchell by the arm and started leading him in the direction of the Kommandantur. Suddenly, Mitchell broke free of Schultz and charged towards Von Strasser, yelling.

Von Strasser calmly removed his pistol from his holster, turned and fired a single shot.

Mitchell collasped in his tracks, mortally wounded as the live bullet tore into his body. Time seemed to stop for everyone from the prisoners, to Klink, and to Schultz. The Major calmly shoved the weapon back in it's holster.

Finally, recovering from his shock, Hogan's eyes went from Mitchell to Von Strasser. "You said you had blanks in your gun."

Von Strasser shrugged. "My mistake, Colonel. I only had one blank in the gun. The rest were live cartridges. Too bad for Sergeant Mitchell however." Then, Von Strasser stood extremely close to Hogan and, leaning forward, whispered something in his ear which caused Hogan's men see their commanding officer's body tense. Von Strasser, smiling, turned sharply and headed back to the Kommandantur.

Hogan's eyes looked at Mitchell's body and then shifted to Klink. The Kommandant could see the accusatory look in Hogan's eyes. "Why didn't you stop him, Kommandant?" he asked coldly. "Why'd you let him shoot Sergeant Mitchell?"

Klink didn't respond. What could he say to Hogan? To the other prisoners? There were sixteen pairs of accusatory eyes looking at him. Him, who the prisoners counted on to keep them safe from people like Von Strasser. Klink hung his head. He had failed the very men who depended on him for their safety. And he had failed himself. He let an SS Major come into his Stalag and murder one of his prisoners for no reason other than his own amusement. Hogan's right, Klink told himself. Hogan asked me to do something and I stood by and did nothing! And now a man is dead who shouldn't be! I'm a disgrace to my uniform! Klink sighed wearily, turned, and walked back to the Kommandantur with sixteen pairs of accusatory eyes staring at his back.

Schultz watched him walk away. Then, he slowly trudged over to where Hogan stood with the others. He looked at Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, are you and the cockroach all right?" he asked quietly.

"Filthy Bosche!" LeBeau spat again, staring in the direction Von Strasser had gone.

"We're both okay, Schultz. Thanks for asking. But if you don't mind, my men and I have to talk about something, and we'd like some privacy."

"Jawohl. I will tend to Sergeant Mitchell in the meanwhile." Schultz started to walk away, but then stopped. He looked again at the American officer. "I am sorry, Colonel Hogan."

"Thank you, Schultz," Hogan replied, knowing for the third time in two days he'd have to write another letter. He sighed as he watched Schultz walk away.

"Colonel, what did Von Strasser say to you?" asked Carter. "You looked like whatever he said had an effect on you."

"It did, Carter. He told me that Sergeant Mitchell was working with the SS and was the assassin hired to kill me."

"Do you believe him, Gov'nor?" asked Newkirk.

"At this point, I'm not sure. The evidence we had against Mitchell was all circumstancial."

"Well. If Mitchell was the assassin sent to kill you, then why did Von Strasser kill 'im? It doesn't make any sense to me."

"It's simple, Kinch," Hogan replied matter-of-factly. "If he's telling the truth about Mitchell being the assassin, he killed him for two reasons. One being Mitchell failed twice to carry out his assignment."

"And what's the other?" asked Kinch, suspicious.

"Von Strasser wants that pleasure for himself alone."

LeBeau uttered a string of French words which were, Hogan knew, not directed at Schultz, or even Klink for that matter, but at Von Strasser.

"Calm down, LeBeau," Hogan told him. "Name calling isn't going to help matters any. It's obvious we can't count on Klink to help. He's too afraid of Von Strasser. So, we're gonna have to take care of him ourselves."

"When you say take care of him, Colonel...." began Kinch.

"I mean we have to kill him, gentlemen."

Hogan's men, stunned, all looked at their commanding officer.

"Murder, mon Colonel?" asked LeBeau. "But you've always been against us commiting cold-blooded murder."

"Louie's right, sir," added Newkirk. "You always tell told us only the Gestapo does that sort of thing and that we're not like them."

"I know, I know. But in this case, gentlemen, it's either kill or be killed. And personally, I have an aversion to being murdered by a raving lunatic."

"So what's the plan, Colonel?" asked Carter.

"I don't have one yet, Carter. But I will. We'll have to make our move soon." He looked at each man individually. "As this involves deliberately killing someone, I can't order you to take part in it. Strictly volunteer basis. Anyone who wants to back out, just tell me now. I won't hold it against anyone who does. LeBeau?"

"Oui, Colonel. Count me in." said LeBeau without hesitation.

"Newkirk?"

"I'm with you all the way, sir."

"Carter?"

The young sergeant shrugged, mindful of the twinge in his injured shoulder. "Heck, I might as well. I got nothin' better to do anyway. Sure, why not."

"Kinch?"

The radioman, while not liking the idea of committing murder, knew his commanding officer well enough that he would not toss that decision out lightly. Sighing, he folded his arms. "Okay. Count me in, Colonel."

Hogan paused as Schultz appeared slowly. Hogan held out his hand, palm upward. Schultz dropped Mitchell's dogtags in his hand. Hogan squeezed his hand tightly around the tags. The pain evident in his brown eyes as he stared at the hand holding the dogtags. Traitor or not, Hogan knew Mitchell's next-of-kin still deserved a letter of condolence from him as the Senior POW officer. But how could he lie to Mitchell's next-of-kin? Hogan let out a deep breath. For the sake of the next-of-kin, Hogan knew he'd have to force himself and live with it.

He supposed this is what the General meant when he had said it didn't get any easier with each letter.