With an apologetic look, Schultz shooed Hogan into his cell and locked the door. Hogan let out a sigh of relief. The cell had an entrance to the tunnel. Finally something had gone right. Hogan was getting sick of bad luck and sick of having his plans go awry. Though, if he took a minute to look at the whole situation, it would probably do him good in the long run. He was too use to having things go exactly how he wanted. A little trouble now and then kept him from getting too cocky.
"Newkirk, you there?" Hogan called, not bothering to wait until Schultz had left.
"Of course he is there! Where else would he be?" Schultz demanded.
Hogan shrugged. "Maybe he went for a walk."
"Ha, jolly joker! I'll show you Newkirk is here!" Schultz lumbered over to Newkirk's cell and peeked inside. He stuttered in disbelief and Hogan had to hide a smile. "Newkirk?! Newkirk where are you?! Colonel Hogan! Newkirk is gone!"
"Eh? What's that you say Schultzie? I'm not gone. I've been 'ere the 'ole bleeding time!" Newkirk's voice came from a cell further down the hall.
"Bu-b-but, I thought I put you in this cell!"
"You've gone 'round the bend Schultzie! You put me in 'ere!"
Schultz paused and tried to figure it out in his head. He was sure he put Newkirk in the cell in front of him. But then, if he did, how did he end up in the cell down the hall? No. No! He wasn't going to think about it. He didn't want to know the answer. "I know nothing, I know nothing!" he finally said before he marched out of the cooler.
"Sorry 'bout that Colonel. I forgot which cell I was supposed to be in!"
"Just be thankful it was Schultz and not one of Hochstetter's men!"
"Thank 'eaven for small miracles guv'nor. 'Ey, wait a minute. What are you doing back in 'ere? I thought you were supposed to be in Berlin taking out that radio station."
Hogan grimaced. "We've hit a pot hole." He checked his watch. "All right Newkirk, let's get down in the tunnel and into the barracks."
"You got a back-up plan then?"
"Always." And with that, Hogan lowered himself into the tunnel. Newkirk appeared a moment later and the two of them made their way to the entrance of barracks two. After using their signals to make sure the coast was clear, the two Allies climbed up the ladder. Kinch, Carter and LeBeau met them at the top.
"We heard your conversation with Kunze, Colonel," Kinch said as a greeting. "Bad luck that."
"No good can come of a smart Kraut. Thanks for that diversion by the way."
"Well, when we heard your plan get shot down, we figured you'd want to update Anderson and you couldn't do that if he had two big Krauts guarding him."
"What is the plan mon colonel? How are we going to get to Berlin?"
Hogan wrapped his arms around himself and began to pace. He always did his best thinking when he paced. Suddenly, he stopped and snapped his fingers. "Olsen, Fuller, get over here." Sergeant Olsen and the English private Fuller came to his side. Hogan grabbed Newkirk's hat and shoved it into Fuller's hands. "Congratulations Fuller, you are now a corporal. Olsen-" he took off his own cap and bomber jacket and handed it to the sergeant- "you're now a colonel! But don't let the power go to your head. You'll be staying in the cooler for the majority of your promotion."
"What's this all about colonel?" Olsen asked as he put on the colonel's jacket. He briefly wondered why the man insisted on wearing it, even in the dead of summer.
"Klink has been kind enough to give me an excuse not to show up at roll call. Newkirk and I are going to go to Berlin with Anderson and his crew." If Anderson even went, he didn't add. "Olsen, Fuller, you'll make appearances in the cooler, just so the guards don't think we've flown the coop."
"Sir, what if, for some reason, they want to haul you out of the cooler?"
Hogan shot Olsen a dirty look. "Knock on wood and wash your mouth out with soap, Sergeant!" he barked. "Enough things have gone wrong already!" Just for good measures, he knocked on the table himself and was happy to note that most the other men did too. Good. They were covered.
Hopefully.
"Carter, fix me up with some explosives. Newkirk, we'll need uniforms."
"What are you cookin' up, Colonel?" Newkirk asked.
"We're going to go out with Anderson and his crew- we'll be the drivers."
"Are you crazy?!… sir? Drive that ruddy truck out of the gates, with Kunze and maybe the General or Hochstetter leading the way."
Hogan scowled. Things had not been going his way lately and he certainly didn't need Newkirk questioning him right now… but then again with the way things had been going, maybe he did. "It'll be all right," he decided finally. "The Krauts will only see what they expect to see. We'll just keep our heads down. Don't give me that look! We have to go! Anderson can't pull this off by himself! It'll be all right."
"If you say so, Colonel." The colonel always pulled through, eventually. Everything would work out in the end.
"LeBeau, monitor the conversations in Klink's office. When Kunze gets to the last man, tell me and Newkirk and I will sneak into the motor pool. Kinch, get down to the switchboard. Intercept Klink's orders for a truck."
"You've got it Colonel."
"All right, let's get going!" Hogan hit the bunk to open the tunnel entrance and climbed down, followed by Kinch, Carter and Newkirk. Fuller and Olsen appeared a moment later and scurried towards the cooler.
As his men went about their tasks Hogan paced. This was it. This would be the riskiest part of this mission so far and if his bad luck didn't let up, it could cost them the whole operation. Hogan wondered if this one mission was worth it.
Shaking his head quickly, Hogan banished the thought. Doubts led to mistakes and he couldn't afford any.
He had worn a nice trench in the floor when LeBeau hollered down the tunnel.
"He's interviewing Anderson now, mon colonel. So far, Kunze wants to send his men to Berlin to talk on the radio."
"Good work. All right Newkirk, let's get ready." Newkirk handed him an outfit and he quickly put it on. After checking himself in the mirror to make sure he looked properly German, he turned to Kinch, waiting impatiently for Klink's call. "Carter?" he called down the tunnel. A moment later Carter poked his head into the room.
"Yes Colonel?"
"Have you got those bombs ready?"
"Yeah, right here. There's only three of them- I gave the rest to Captain Anderson." Carter handed Hogan the small charges.
"Kinda small, you sure they'll work?" Hogan asked as he inspected the pen-like objects in his hand.
"You bet your boots they will boy! Uh, sir!" Carter felt a little insulted, but covered it with boundless enthusiasm. "They're probably some of my best. See, they're small enough to hide in your pocket, but they'll make a big boom!" He took one from the colonel and held it up. "To activate it, just twist the bottom here, see. Each notch represents about ten minutes-"
"About ten minutes?"
"More or less," Carter replied, unfazed by Hogan's arched eyebrow. "You can set it up to an hour."
"Thanks Carter."
"Uh, Colonel, is there any way I could go along maybe?" Carter asked hopefully. He was never one to turn down a good explosion.
"Sorry Carter. Besides, you already got to blow up a munitions factory. What more could you want?"
"I guess you're right," Carter sighed.
"Don't worry Andrew, one explosion is just the same as the next."
Carter's eyes grew wide. "How could you say that?!" he gasped. "Why, every explosion-"
"Save it Carter," Hogan interrupted. A second later, Kinch sprung to life and picked up his hand set.
"This is the call Colonel," he explained. "Ja, dis is da motor pool. Jawohl, right away. Ve vill have a truck with drivers standing by. Ja, ja, Heil Hitler." Kinch turned in his seat and looked up at the colonel. "It's all set. I'll phone the motor pool and tell them that Klink is sending two drivers to pick up a car." Hogan sighed with relief. He had half-expected Hochstetter to volunteer his Gestapo guards as drivers. That would've been keeping with his bad luck after all.
"Okay Newkirk, this is it. Kinch, hold down the fort." And with that, Hogan marched off towards the motor pool.
Getting topside was a little dodgy, especially since it was daylight. The tunnel entrance was in the dog pound, only a short jaunt from the motor pool.
Hogan carefully lifted the dog house that covered the entrance and peeked out. So far, so good. There wasn't a Kraut in sight. He had been tempted to plan another diversion, but eventually had decided it wasn't necessary. Besides, another diversion was risky considering how many they had used in the last day or so.
Heidi, one of the friendlier German shepherds in the camp, ambled up and started to sniff at the curiously raised house. Hogan scrunched his nose and shooed her away. Taking one last look, Hogan decided it was safe and hoisted himself up onto the ground. He huddled behind the dog house and waited for Newkirk to follow. When the corporal was up, the two practically flew out of the enclosure and hotfooted it to the motor pool.
"We're here to pick up the truck Kommandant Klink requested," Hogan explained in perfect German to one of the guards. The guard nodded and let them in. Hogan mentally sighed with relief, but kept his exterior appearance calm and relaxed- or at least, as calm and relaxed as a German soldier was allowed to be.
"So far, so good," Newkirk whispered as they hopped into the cab of a truck.
"Yeah, for now," Hogan muttered under his breath.
Anderson stepped out of the interrogation feeling somewhat triumphant. He had succeeded where the colonel had failed. He and his men would be on their way to Berlin to broadcast to the Allies on Berlin Betty's radio program.
As he and his men were led to a transport, Anderson cast a wary glance towards the cooler. As much as he liked having one over on the colonel, he felt himself wishing that Hogan was here right now. Not that the colonel's plans had gone well so far. But it would've still been nice to know that he wasn't the only fool crazy enough to go through with this mission. How had the colonel managed to survive all these years?
Anderson climbed into the back of the truck and threw Private Jenkins, who was shaking like a leaf, a reassuring look. He studiously avoided contact with Dawson. Though he knew, provided this whole thing with Berlin Betty was true, that Dawson wasn't totally to blame, he still felt a bitter sort of anger towards the corporal. After all, if it hadn't been for him, none of them would be in this mess.
Anderson slid a glance towards the guards that had joined them in the back of the truck. Trying to act nonchalant, he reached his hand into his coat pocket and thumbed the small, pen-sized explosives that Hogan's men had given him. The guard seemed to notice so, slowly, he pulled out a cigarette he also had tucked away in there. He searched for the lighter in his trouser pocket, at the same time, making sure his tools were securely fastened to his belt and lit his smoke.
Settling against the canvas of the truck, Anderson prepared himself for the long trek to Berlin.