Hogan's Other Nemesis
by 80sarcades

Welcome back! I was stunned by the amount of reviews to the (short) first chapter; apparently, there are quite a few cat lovers out there! Hopefully, the second part to this story will live up to your expectations! Thank you!

Disclaimer: I have two indoor (and spoiled rotten) cats.

Enjoy, and have a great day!

The next thing I remember was waking up on something warm. A soft pillow, perhaps. Much preferable to my previous circumstances. Though still somewhat blind, my sensitive nose could smell milk nearby. My legs, unfortunately, were a bit weak for searching it out. What to do?

I didn't have long to wait. A hand - the same one belonging to my rescuer, I quickly realized - scooped me up and held me in a gentle cradle before spoon-feeding me some of the good stuff. My new human did that for a long while before he gently lowered me to a waiting bowl. To my surprise, the shallow container was filled with more warm milk. Needless to say, I gratefully lapped it up and went to sleep.

The next few weeks were ones of wonder and joy for me. Naturally, I grieved for my lost brothers and sisters. Feline-wise, I was alone. Still, as I said before, no kitten knows the true workings of fate. And life, even with its downsides, does have its compensations. As I soon discovered, the house belonging to my human was filled with all sorts of fun areas to explore. My human may have growled a lot, but I quickly realized that his bark was worse than his bite. Not that dogs have anything to do with how wonderful my human is.

And the work he did! Major Hochstetter, as I soon learned, was a very important human in the town we lived in. I never lacked for milk, food, or treats. Though he worked late, he was never too busy to pet me. Or to have me cuddle up in his warm lap. His gentle hands stroked my fur in smooth, rhythmic movements. Sometimes it would seem that he would stroke my coat for hours and talk.

My human would tell me stories about the place we lived in. Our land - a country, I soon learned - was at war with a evil group of humans known as the Allies. We were known as Germans; therefore, I was a German cat. I was superior to others, he said. After that, I walked tall. Then again, I'm a cat: I always walk tall.

Some time later I had the opportunity to sense the truth for myself. That summer the weather was frightfully hot. My human, fortunately, kept several windows open during the day so I could stay cool. One day, I decided to go past my familiar walls and explore the town beyond. Truth be told, I never expected it to be so much fun!

I soon became well acquainted with the world outside my house. The streets of Hammelburg were mine to prowl as I pleased. No dog - small or large - stood in my way as I examined its secrets. The canine population soon came to fear my name whenever I was about. My secret cat name, of course.

Humans, being humans, have a odd tendency to name their 'pets'. My human named me for the leader of the SS: Heinrich. I had no problems with the name as it was much more preferable than being named Fluffy. Or (shiver) Kitty. Then again, I prefer to be known by my other title: Death Claw, Destroyer of Dogs. Not that I've actually destroyed a dog, mind you. My claws, on the other hand...

One day, as I was on my way home, I came across an odd group of humans working on a street in the town square. My eyesight, unfortunately, is not as good in daylight as it is at night, but my other senses told me that this group was a strange one. I could make out a blue uniform that looked different from the ones I was used to. The others, save for an odd smattering of colors, were similarly unrecognizable. Even their scents were different. Compared to the ones I knew, they were almost alien to my sensitive senses.

One of the strangers smelled like chemicals. Another gave off the scent of food; the third and fourth 'tasted' bland to my nose. It was the fifth one that was interesting: the human in question smelled of leather and cologne. With a start, I finally realized that these humans were not Germans but the evil Allies! I hissed once, then growled as I backed up to a nearby alley, ready to run. The human in the blue uniform laughed and said something - in English, I later learned - to a comrade, who also laughed. Suddenly, the human in leather straightened up and walked slowly in my direction. He said a few words, though I had no idea what they were; a hand hesitantly reached out towards my head.

I knew I had nothing to fear. German humans in uniform watched the Allies closely. And yet, I ran.

I was a coward. I had run from the face of the enemy.

That night I was unable to face my human. He called and called, but I refused to come out from my hiding spot beneath the bed. Eventually, he gave up and went to sleep.

All I could think about was how I, a cat, was unable to face off a group of puny humans. Yes, they were bigger than me. Yes, they had hands while I had paws. But I am a cat: as I said, I am superior to humans. There should be no doubt at all about that.

Regardless, I vowed, I would do better next time. I would ignore my fear and strike out against my human's enemies when and where I had the chance. I would give my human something to respect while instilling fear in my foes. And soon, I would take my revenge.

In the meantime, I felt awful about abandoning my Major in his time of need. And besides, I missed my daily petting session. I am royalty, you know.

Thankfully, the next morning brought no new surprises. Nor the next. Life settled back down to normal; my human shrugged off my errant behavior while he continued to talk about this and that. One night, the Major came in with the most terrible temper I had ever seen him in. He didn't say much at all to me at first. Instead he made dinner for the both of us before collapsing into his recliner. I, as always, jumped up in his lap and curled up comfortably before he started to talk.

He told me about how one of the Allied humans - a male by the name of Colonel Robert Hogan; humans have such funny names for themselves! - was committing crimes against Germany. At first I didn't understand the odd word he used - sabotage - but I soon figured out that this evil human was destroying German things. Involuntarily, I hissed.

My human merely smiled at my reaction even as he continued to pet me. The Major had just come from a camp where these Allies were being held. Apparently, this Hogan had the nine lives of a cat when it came to evading my human's justice. I pushed down my anger and instead nuzzled the side of my head against the Major's warm hand. It didn't take long before my human fell asleep. Hopefully, I was able to comfort him in some small way.

As I stood up and stretched, I took a quick sniff of his jacket before jumping down from my perch. The coat was filled with the different kinds of smells and tantalizing scents that it had collected during the day. My talented nose quickly picked out the most recent odors on the jacket. One of them, oddly, was a strong scent of fear. Another was of chocolate. The third caused my blood to race: it was the scent of a human male, strong in leather and cologne. The smell of the one who tormented my human so.

The smell of Hogan.

I quickly locked the scent into memory and purred happily. Oh, revenge would be so sweet!

The days passed by quietly. Every so often, the Major would 'talk' to me about this Colonel Hogan. I failed to understand why these other German humans - his superiors - couldn't see the truth that lay before them. Perhaps they were dog owners, I reasoned. After all, it was a well-known fact that humans who took care of cats were smarter than the rest of the population.

In any case, the mere mention of the Colonel's name caused my blood to boil. No one had the right to torment MY human. Except for me, of course.

I took to hissing whenever I heard the name of that Allied human. The Major would always smile whenever that happened; in some ways, I believe it made him happy. And I always kept a lookout for my enemy.

Occasionally I would run into a work party that contained his scent. This time, however, I was prepared. I would jump onto a nearby ledge or high surface and watch my prey in action. Most of the time he would stand there and observe the other Allied humans as they worked. Every so often, he would talk with his human guards. Once I even saw him escort a older human female across the street. Despite it all, I knew he was up to something. I just wasn't able to prove it.

At times, the night air would bring his unmistakable scent to my house. Despite my nocturnal prowling I was unable to find the ultimate source of the smell. It always disappeared in the same direction - south, towards the woods - and I was highly reluctant to leave the safety of my town for the darkness of the trees. My common sense notwithstanding, I felt ashamed that my enemy had slipped away from my grasp once again. The only comfort I was able to take came from the old human truism: if it happened once, it would happen again.

Or so I hoped.

The nights grew cooler as summer dragged on to its inevitable end. The owner of the scent continued to vanish from my questing nose; I despaired at being able to find my enemy before I was shut in from the cold. My nightly petting sessions failed to comfort me as they should have. And then, it happened.

As usual, I picked up the familiar scent towards the center of town. This time, however, I was able to track the aroma to a building with sharp smells. I suspected that my quarry was somewhere within that place; all I had to do was wait. And I was right.

As I watched, four humans came through the front doorway. My superior night vision told me that the humans looked like Germans, but I wasn't fooled for a minute. My nose smelled the familiar scent of cooking, followed by chemicals, coming from two of the men. The third smell always brought the color of blue to my mind. All of these were important but they paled in comparison to the last scent. I smiled, then restrained a vicious hiss.

My prey was nearby.

I stalked the group of humans as they walked down the street. With some effort, I was able to keep ahead of the Allied pack. Voices in English reached my ears, further confirming my suspicions as I dashed onward. My synchronized paws, ever so silent, positioned my body on the stone ledge of a nearby building. There, out of sight, I waited.

They had to come this way, I knew. Humans thought they were smart, but they usually did things in patterns. And...

My heart raced as the one called Hogan, followed by the other humans, came into view. All that remained was the moment to strike; my heart raced as the leather-scented human drew closer...

And then, with a roar of rage, I leaped.

I landed solidly on the head of my target and dug my claws and teeth into skin. The coppery scent of fresh blood bit into my nostrils, further inflaming my red anger. Before the other humans could react I finished my work and leaped off into the dark night.

My now-red mouth smiled in triumph. I had avenged my honor and my human. And though he didn't know it, the one called Hogan would taste my claws again. It was only a matter of time.

My only regret, strangely, was a minor one. I would have loved to present my human with the sight of Hogan dangling from my sharp teeth. Alas, he was too big...

"Looks like he got you good, Guv'nor," Newkirk announced as he tipped the Colonel's head back. The dim glow of a nearby light revealed the angry claw marks that ran down the length of Hogan's face. "At least he didn't get your eyes," the Englishman remarked. "Bit of good news, that."

"Some news," Hogan groused, then grimaced as he tried to smile. "Too bad you didn't get the license plate off the cat," he painfully joked.

"Boche," LeBeau muttered darkly before uttering a few curse words in French. "Even le chats are dangerous. You can't trust anything in this country!"

Hogan shook his head. "We'd better get back to camp," the Colonel said as he glanced around at the deserted street. "Wilson can patch me up there." The other men nodded in agreement. Within a minute, the team headed for the edge of town and the nearby woods.

"What about Klink, Colonel?" Carter wondered aloud. "He's going to wonder about the scratches. What'll we tell him?"

"No problem, Carter," Hogan said, repressing a chuckle. "I'll tell him that his cat 'guards' roughed me up tonight." He shook his head once before continuing. "It's either that or tell him I got a little fresh with my underground contact."

"You could always tell him you fell down in the barracks," LeBeau offered helpfully. Newkirk shook his head as he looked towards the French corporal.

"You'd have better luck telling him that Schultz got antsy when the Colonel withheld his chocolate bar, Louie," he said flatly before he changed the subject. "Does anyone else think it strange that a cat was waiting for us? Almost like it knew we were coming?"

LeBeau snorted derisively. "What do you expect from a German cat?" he said. "Niceness? We were just unlucky. That's all."

The Englishman glanced towards his friend . "You didn't see its eyes," he finally said. "I'd swear that cat knew what it was doing. Mad, it was. And the way it came after the Colonel..."

"Who knows? It probably liked my cologne," Hogan said, trying hard not to smile.

"Hey, here's a good one!" Carter happily interrupted. "What if the cat was Major Hochstetter's and he trained it to come after you? Why, right now it could be stalking us-"

"CARTER!" the other men chorused, shaking their heads. No one could picture the Gestapo Major owning a cat. Or, for that matter, having one that somehow detested Colonel Hogan. It was a ridiculous, silly idea.

Or was it?

[fin/ende]