"Colonel Robert Hogan…we've been over this, yah?"
He'd been given a chair to sit in. The hardwood was a nice reprieve from the stiff canvas he'd spent a few hours sleeping on. He hadn't been tied down or hooked to anything sinister looking yet, but he was certain something was coming. The only thing that worried Hogan was that this was the first time Hochstetter actually had a leg to stand on, and knew it.
Hogan was tired, his ribs and shoulder aching, but not nearly as bad as before. The food had done wonders but he was supposed to be starving and still in pain, so he acted the part, slumping in the chair.
"We've been over it…" He agreed, licking his lips to punctuate a non-existent desperate thirst. In point of fact he more desperately needed to use the restroom.
"Yes, but the name "Papa Bear" seems not to impress you. Nor…Tiger, Mama Bear, or Goldilocks."
"Starting an amusement park?" The American asked.
A contemplative smile spread under Hochstetter's moustache and the short man put his hands behind his back and paced a step or two to the side, beginning a slow circle around the chair.
"Hogan, I have long considered you one of the most dangerous enemies to the Third Reich. Far too much sabotage has happened in this area, with no reasonable explanations, and always you...smirking in the middle of it. And now suddenly I find you fifty miles from where you are supposed to be imprisoned, caught in a trap set by the Gestapo to catch the leader of the underground …and out of uniform."
Without warning a heavily gloved hand slapped down on his bruised shoulder, and it took everything in Hogan to cut off the scream and not lose the battle with his full bladder. The pain was unexpected and intense, and Hochstetter was clearly delighted at catching him off guard.
"You are probably aware, Colonel, that this puts you in violation of the Geneva Convention, and therefore no longer under its protection." As he ground out the last few words, Hochstetter slid his hand away from Hogan's arm and finished the circle, stopping to eye his prisoner.
"Still, I can hardly expect answers from a man dying of starvation or thirst. Guard!"
A pale and concerned Schultz answered the call, stepping into view and casting a cautious glance toward the Colonel. "Yawohl, Herr Major."
"Bread and water for the prisoner and…get him some medical attention. Enough to ensure that he does not die within the next few days."
Schultz stared with regret and dismay at the major before giving a half-hearted salute and muttering, "Yawohl, Herr Major."
"I will stay with the prisoner until you return." Hochstetter stated, returned the salute, then spun efficiently on his heel to face Hogan.
"Ya know, I've always liked you, Major." Hogan said, through gritted teeth, letting a weak smile come to his lips. This one he didn't need to fake. "You're a clever adversary, remarkably loyal for a cold blooded maniac."
The insult brushed by the major like a summer's breeze carrying a whiff of manure, his only reaction an amused snort.
"You don't flounder under scrutiny like Klink, and you can see through flattery. It's…it's just a shame…"
"A shame?"
"You have two main faults, Major, that could get you killed like the proverbial cat. You're far too curious…"
A toothy grin came to the major's face and he chuckled, until the grin looked more like a grimace. "And the other?"
"Paranoia. It can be a killer." Hogan let all the humor drain from his voice, his eyes sharpening.
"Yah…it is also a requirement for joining the Gestapo, Colonel, and to follow your metaphor about the cats. My curiosity and paranoia have caught me a giant mouse. I need only find its nest."
"Best of luck." Hogan said, gathering himself and pushing out of the chair. It took more effort than he liked, and he swayed involuntarily once he reached his feet. But he stayed upright, and clung to the back of the chair with his good arm supporting him, before turning to face the major again. "You can count me out."
Hochstetter smiled, but said nothing, retreating in silence when Schultz returned with the bread and water. As the big man opened the cell door he explained that the doctor was on his way.
"You will stay with the prisoner at all times until I return Sergeant, is that understood?"
"Yah. I..I mean, Yawohl, Herr Major."
Hochstetter tipped his peaked hat in farewell, then left the cooler, his jackboots echoing in the sudden silence of the cement building.
The look that Hans Schultz gave Hogan, nearly broke the American's heart. Looking like he was about to burst into tears, the lovable Kraut set the thin metal tray of food on one end of the cot, then offered his support to the prisoner, guiding him to the waiting canvas.
Once Hogan was safely seated, Schultz checked the hall with one quick glance then pulled the now empty chair closer to the cot and sat.
"Colonel Hogan…are there…" After a moment of hesitation Schultz turned his palm over so that it was parallel to the floor and wiggled his fingers while making a ticking noise.
Hogan couldn't help but smirk and asked, "Bugs? No, Schultz. No bugs."
With a sigh the big man leaned back, "Zer gudt! That major…Er ist ein teufel!"
"Hmm?"
"A devil, Colonel Hogan. I would not even bet that he is human."
"Oh, he's human, Schultz." Hogan said, leaning back slowly until the pressure was off his ribs, before he looked with distaste at the plate of brown, hard bread and stagnate water. Compared to what his own men had provided, this would be like eating sand. Hogan wondered if it was worth it to continue faking starvation just to avoid eating sawdust. "At least his body is human."
The vicious German guard seated before him gave a good-natured chuckle before the sound died. "Eh…there have been rumors, Colonel. And..I overheard what the major was saying to you." Hans sighed and shook his head, sincere pity filling his eyes. "You are…in very big trouble this time."
With a wince Hogan resituated his aching shoulder, pulling his arm closer to his torso before he closed his eyes. "Schultz, we've gotten to know each other over the past few years, right?"
Schultz nodded, his eyes drifting.
"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"
With the look of a man prepared to grant a dying prisoner his final wish, Schultz slapped his thighs with heavy palms and looked expectantly at the Colonel.
"How old were you when you joined the Wehrmacht?"
The question brought a moment of blank faced thought, then a roguish chuckle from the big man. He threw his head back, and his mouth open reliving a hundred memories. "I was…twenty years old. A very young and…handsome boy." He said, bouncing bushy, white eyebrows. "Oh when I first put on that uniform…how the ladies went wild!"
Hogan couldn't help but smirk a little, genuinely fond of the older man. "Yeah, had two or three of them on the side did'ya?"
Some of the rogue slipped away, and Schultz's smile matured. "No…not really. I was just married then, trying to get a good start, expecting to be a papa. Now this was….before the first war…" Schultz rambled on, just as Hogan had hoped he would, and the drone of white noise eventually distracted him from the fear, pain and worry that had been keeping him from focusing solely on the problem at hand.
Who had it been?
Who in the underground had betrayed them to the Gestapo? Which spy had he missed somehow? Or was it a communique, or a slip up on a mission? How far up the chain had Major Hochstetter infiltrated to have slipped in the order to bomb the convent…and why would someone as admittedly loyal as Major Hochstetter risk bombing German citizens, teenaged nuns just to catch Papa Bear?
The move seemed unnecessarily cruel. What was the major's game?
Or…had the explosion been something or someone else? If Hochstetter's plan had been to capture Papa Bear all along he wouldn't have risked blowing the leader of the underground to smithereens. Besides, presuming it was the Gestapo that sent the message, why would they do the underground's dirty work.
No, the explosion hadn't been the major, and Hogan knew it wasn't an accident on Carter's part either.
Both Kinch and a delirious Andrew had insisted that the bomb was still intact and buried under rubble.
Who, then, had attacked the convent? And why?
"Colonel Hogan?"
Who else could have possibly known when and where they were going to be? Had it been an attempted assassination? Could it have been only an accident? A gas pipe blowing at the exact wrong moment?
"Colonel Hogan!?"
It didn't take long to run through the list of people that had been bad luck for Hogan and his men over the years. Most of them, while jinxes to the core, had good intentions-
A hand shook him and Hogan opened his eyes surprised to find that he had closed them. He was even more surprised to realize that he was lying down on the cot again and that the camp physician and Major Hochstetter stood over him.
"The head injury, how did it come about?" The doctor asked, without preamble or introduction.
Hogan squinted up at the man, shifted his gaze to the major, then admitted, "I don't really know."
The doctor nodded, ill-effected by the answer and turned to Hochstetter. "Concussion, a dislocated shoulder that he has since relocated and three cracked ribs. If you want him to live he must have food, real food, and rest. Someplace…" The doctor looked around the room then said, "…warm."
"So we are to pamper this criminal?" Hochstetter asked testily.
"You asked me to tell you his condition, and to do what I can to keep him alive." The doctor shot back, unimpressed with the Gestapo man's bluster.
The major punched his hips with gloved fists and pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly not liking the arrangement at all, but realizing that he didn't have much of a choice.
"Klink!" The major called and Hogan realized that the tall, skinny Kommandant had been in the room all along as well, slinking in the shadows. "You have guest quarters where this man can be kept?"
Wilhelm Klink jutted his chin out as a parade of emotions slid across his face. Fear, mild concern, discomfort and most of all wounded pride. But he chose the wise course and straightened his back. "Of course, Herr Major. My guest quarters are always available for the use of the Gestap-"
"Very good, move the prisoner and station six guards around the building. No exceptions. If this man escapes it will be your head." Hochstetter delivered this death sentence with little compunction then turned to Hogan and offered a sickly smile. "You will have forty-eight hours to recuperate, Colonel, and say goodbye to this….home away from home. Then I will return, and take you to Berlin. There, after some interrogations you will be given a unique honor, Papa Bear."
The name jerked a reaction out of Kommandant Klink, but he was ignored.
"Yeah, what's that?"
"You will be the first prisoner of the Gestapo to have an audience with the Fuehrer, just before your execution! Get him out of here, Klink!"
The Kommandant barely managed a salute that the Major ignored. And mumbled orders to the two guards with him, following the group out of the cooler.
From Barracks 2 the parade of prisoner and Krauts alarmed Louie into calling a halt to the factory work in the tunnel below. The men grew quiet and Newkirk climbed halfway up the ladder until he could see the little Frenchman.
"What is it, LeBeau?"
"They are moving the colonel. To Klink's guest quarters."
"Is he alright?"
LeBeau studied the group as they marched across the compound, just barely catching the brief thumbs up that Colonel Hogan flashed toward the barracks. Louie favored Newkirk with a brilliant smile and let out the breath he had been holding. "Oui. All clear. We can get back to work."