"Jenkins?" Anderson cried in shock as the private aimed the gun at him. "What the hell is this?"

"What's it look like?" Jenkins smirked. "I'll take Doctor Kunze off your hands, if you please."

"Wait a minute? You're a Kraut?" Dawson hollered, angry at the betrayal. He wasn't the only one. Anderson was positively seething. Jenkins? Little Hank Jenkins who hardly said a word, always willing to follow orders- a Kraut? This wasn't happening; it was impossible. What was he thinking? This whole situation was impossible. Unless he wanted to go insane, he'd might as well just accept it was going to get crazier. But still- Jenkins?

"I'm not a Kraut."

"Then why?" Anderson demanded, feeling like he was caught in some crazy melodrama starring Byron Buckles.

"It just hit me one day after a mission. We weren't really accomplishing anything, like they say we are. We're not stopping any great German offensive or anything. We're just wrecking cities," Jenkins explained. "I've been working for the Germans for a few months now."

"That's just Kunze's messages getting to you. You don't really feel that way," Anderson reasoned.

Jenkins shook his head. "No. It didn't take any messages or propaganda to make me see the light." Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Hogan going for his gun. "I see you, Colonel. Don't move- I'm a pretty good shot. I could probably get you right between the eyes without so much as grazing Miss Berger's hair."

Hogan stopped and glared at him. "Now what? There's less than five minutes before this place blows sky high," Hogan growled.

"Just let Doctor Kunze go and you can leave," Jenkins said simply.

"Right. And then we'd go home to a bunch of waiting Gestapo men."

"I could shoot you now," Jenkins suggested. "Captain?"

Anderson looked back at Hogan, who glared at Jenkins. Suddenly, Kunze jabbed his captor in the stomach and freed himself, running to Jenkins side. Hogan grabbed his gun and let off a shot, hitting Kunze in the shoulder. Jenkins returned the shot. With a cry of surprise, Anderson grabbed his side and fell to the floor. In the confusion, Jenkins grabbed hold of Kunze and let off a few more shots before running down the hall.

Hogan shoved Berlin Betty to one of Anderson's men and rushed up to the captain. "You okay, Anderson?"

"Yeah, just peachy thanks," Anderson muttered through gritted teeth. "Knew that kid was a horrible shot. Bet he was aiming for you."

"Don't flatter yourself. Did you know Jenkins was with the Krauts?"

Anderson looked up at the colonel as if he was insane. "Oh sure. Of course I did. That's why I let him be on my crew- can't have too many enemies flying with you."

"All right, all right. Hold tight." He motioned for two of the men to come over. "Take him. One of my guys is outside waiting in the truck." He checked his watch. "I'm going after Jenkins and Kunze. If I'm not out in three minutes, get the hell on out of here. And that's an order." The men nodded and helped Anderson up.

Anderson grunted in pain as they led him out. Hogan waited for a moment before turning to take off after Jenkins. "Hey, Hogan!" He looked back and caught Anderson's eye. "Be careful huh?" He struggled for a second before continuing. "He's not one of our guys anymore."

"Right. Get going." And with that, Hogan gave chase. As he rounded the corner, another shot filled the air. Hogan cursed and ducked back behind the wall. How many bullets did this guy have left?

Carefully, he peeked around the corner again, but the coast was clear and he took off. He checked his watch. Two minutes. More or less. That's what Carter had said. He prayed it was more.

As he reached another corner, Hogan pressed himself against the wall and held his gun up, ready to fire. He peeked around the corner just in time to see Kunze and Jenkins opening a door on the other end. He let off a shot and was rewarded with Kunze stumbling through the door, knocking over Jenkins in the process. Hogan left the safety of his cover and ran after them. He stopped outside the door and licked his lips.

"All right, put down your gun Jenkins. You can't get away." He was met with silence. Taking a deep breath, Hogan carefully slid closer and looked into the room. Despite the door being the only exit, there was no one there. Cursing silently to himself, Hogan stepped into the room. A flash of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned just in time for Jenkins to hit him on the side of the face with his gun. Hogan stumbled back but quickly regained his senses.

Something had finally gone right- Jenkins was obviously out of bullets. Of course, his own gun still had bullets. Which was probably why Jenkins leapt at him and grabbed onto his wrist, fighting to get the gun away. The two Americans struggled against each other, each trying to take possession of the weapon. Hogan twisted and turned and slammed his elbow back into Jenkins nose. Jenkins immediately let go with a yelp of pain. Turning, Hogan punched him once as hard as he could and then again for good measures, sending the private to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Hogan caught his breath and levelled his gun at Jenkins, just in case the man regained consciousness. Scanning the room, he quickly found Kunze propped up in a corner. "Well that was a lot of hassle for nothing."

Kunze gave him a wry smile. "There's less than a minute before those bombs go off. If nothing else, at least you will die too. And when you don't return to Stalag 13, General Burkhalter will tear the place apart. After all, how could you escape from the cooler?"

Hogan checked his watch. Kunze was right. Less than a minute. He'd have to fly like the wind to get out. "We're getting out."

Kunze laughed bitterly. "You can't carry both of us. We will all die, thanks to you and your bombs. Sad really. All I wanted to do was stop the killing. I just wanted you Allies to realize that you were dropping bombs on people like yourselves. Look at Jenkins! He was one of Anderson's men. The bomber crew must've laughed with him, cried with him. Does his working for us change all that? And now my work, perhaps the only chance for peace, will be destroyed and no one else will be able to finish it."

"You're full of it Kunze," Hogan said, shaking his head. "We're not the only ones who bomb cities. Last time I checked, London was getting bombed too." He wasn't about to spend his last seconds on the earth listening to Kunze. Holstering his gun, he bent down and grabbed Jenkins and slung him over his shoulder.

"What are you doing? You can't make it with both of us."

"Who says I'm taking both of you?" Hogan grunted. He checked his watch. His ten minutes were up. But luck was finally shining on him. Carter was off. Not wanting to push his returning luck any further, Hogan nodded to Kunze and turned to run out the door.

"Wait! Hogan! You can't leave me here!"

Hogan ignored him and ran out of the room. He couldn't let himself listen to Kunze, because the man was right. He didn't want to leave Kunze there, but unless he wanted to go up in flames, he had to get out of the building right now. Kunze was right- he couldn't take two prisoners with him.

Despite the extra weight, Hogan had never run so fast in his life. Along the way, he grabbed his own explosives from his pocket and twisted the timers with his teeth. As he reached the exit, he rolled them into a nearby room as gently as he could and bolted out the main doors and into the night air outside. Parked right in front of him was the truck. Newkirk waved to him. Hogan pushed Jenkins in and jumped in after him. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Righto guv'nor," Newkirk said with a little salute before gunning the gas and taking off. They were barely a block away when the sound of an explosion ripped through the air, followed by another and another. Hogan looked back to see the building shudder. He grimaced slightly. Hopefully, when the other explosives went off in more or less than ten minutes, the whole building would collapse on itself.

But they couldn't stick around to find out. Settling back into the seat he shot Newkirk a dirty look.

"Everything go well, Colonel?" Newkirk asked, oblivious to the Colonel's pointed gaze.

"I thought I told you to leave in three minutes," Hogan said, trying to sound angry.

Newkirk just grinned slyly. "Well, I know you guv'. You always run a little late when there's a crunch on. All you needed was another minute or two."

"I don't always run late," Hogan said with a pout that quickly turned into a grin. "Anyway, thanks. Now, let's get back home before this whole thing catches up to us."

"Right. Hey, what happened with Hochstetter then? I saw a bunch of goons rush out carrying him right after our chaps got into the truck."

Hogan looked at him in surprise. "He got out?" He paused, mulling that over. For some dumb reason that he could quite explain to himself, he felt relieved. But it was the last thing he would admit. "Then we've really gotta get home quick. If I know Hochstetter, he'll bounce right back and head to Stalag 13 looking for answers. Which he won't find of course."

"Course," Newkirk echoed with a cheeky smile. "After all, we've been in the cooler the whole time."

Beside him, Jenkins began stirring. "Pull over here Newkirk," Hogan ordered. Newkirk brought the truck to the curb.

"Hey, wait a minute. That's not Kunze," Newkirk said, just realizing who the other passenger was. "What happened to him?"

Hogan shook his head. "It's a long story. The short version is Jenkins here is a traitor. I had to choose between him and Kunze and I chose him."

"Blimey Colonel," Newkirk breathed in disbelief, "one of the ruddy reasons we came here was to get Kunze. And you just left him?"

"I had my reasons," Hogan countered. "Here, let's get him into the back." Hogan and Newkirk jumped out and dragged Jenkins to the back of the truck, throwing him in. "All right Newkirk, get going. I'll stay back here."

"Right," Newkirk nodded and jogged back to the front of the truck. A moment later, the truck lurched forward and they were on their way.

Hogan motioned for two of Anderson's men to come over. "Watch him," he ordered, pointing to Jenkins. They both nodded, looking at their former friend with disgust. "Let me know when he comes to." Leaving them, he made his way over to Dawson, who had Anderson's head resting in his lap. He looked at the corporal, who just shrugged uneasily. "Hey, Anderson," Hogan greeted.

"So you got out, huh?" Anderson said, his speech a little slurred. "Or am I dead too?"

"No, we're both in the land of the living," Hogan told him.

"That's good… Good, good, good. You get Kunze?"

"No, I left him behind. I got Jenkins though."

Anderson scrunched his nose. "He shot me you know. That kid couldn't hit the broad side of a barn." Anderson laughed. "You know, when this whole thing started, I figured he'd be the only one to come out on my good side."

"Yeah, I've noticed you're not a very good judge of character," Hogan pouted. Anderson just rolled his eyes. "Here, let me take a look at your stomach." Hogan pried Anderson's hands away and pulled at his shirt to get a better look.

"Gee Hogan, I never knew you cared," Anderson managed as Hogan prodded at his wound.

"Anderson?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up will ya."