Chapter 9

Prust had just finished checking Hogan's vitals when the nurse named Emerald walked in. "How is he?" she asked.

"The same," Prust replied. "His vitals are good; and there's no sign of an infection so far. We should know in another twenty-four to forty-eight hours if he'll live. Right now it's still touch and go. But I'm hopeful." He looked at Emerald. "Are those Gestapo guards still outside?"

"Yes, sir. Sergeant Kinchloe made sure they will remain here until Colonel Hogan is released from the hospital. They will rotate with other underground posing as Gestapo until then."

Prust smiled. He knew from the Gestapo officer who came with the three guards that Kinch had arranged round-the-clock protection for the Colonel. Knowing Hogan and his men for awhile now, he knew better than to ask questions so he didn't. All Kinch had told him was that there was a good possibility that the person who shot the Colonel was still a danger to him and they were taking no chances.

Prust made several notations on Hogan's chart. Once he had finished doing that he hung the chart back on the hook on the railing hanging from the bottom of the bed. "He's had another injection of penicillin as well as a pain med, and the IV bottle has been replaced so he's good for now. Please keep an eye on him, Judith."

"I will, doctor," she replied with a smile.

Dietrich saw the prisoners of barracks two disappear inside and close the door as he approached. He smirked and pushed open the door and entered, slamming the door shut behind him. He stood there glaring around the room at the prisoners before his eyes fell on Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau seated at the table.

"I see there is a prisoner missing," he said coldly. A minute later the door opened and Kinch hurried inside, breathing heavily from having run all the way once he heard Dietrich was heading to his barracks. He and Dietrich stared hard at each other. Kinch slowly made his way to the table where the others sat. But before he reached it, the Sergeant roughly grabbed Kinch by the arm and yanked it behind his back and held it there and gave it a violent jerk causing Kinch to cry out in agony and try to fall to his knees but the Sergeant, refusing to release his arm, kept the pressure on.

LeBeau, Newkirk and Carter immediately jumped to their feet and charged the Sergeant trying to get him to release Kinch. But with a swipe of his arm, he knocked them all off their feet while continuing to apply pressure on Kinch's shoulder. Kinch, gritting his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut as he heard a popping sound and sudden intense agony shot through his shoulder and arm. He knew his shoulder was now dislocated. Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter again, getting to their feet, charged the German Sergeant, trying desperately to get him to release Kinch.

"Take your hands off me or I'll snap his arm in two!" Dietrich demanded. To emphasize his point, he applied more pressure to Kinch's injured shoulder causing a reaction from the negro Sergeant. The men saw the agony etched in their friend's face and the beads of sweat on his forehead. They stepped back. As they did so, Dietrich released Kinch and violently shoved him forward. The radioman dropped to his knees holding his right arm against his body. Standing over Kinch, Dietrich smirked. "Let that be a lesson to you, swine!" he directed his words at Kinch. "Next time you talk back to me I'll not only break you arm, but I'll rip it out of it's socket." He glared around the barracks at the men; some of whom showed their fear. "And let that be a lesson to the rest of you bastards. When I order you pigs to jump, you will ask how high and then jump."

"You wait until Colonel Hogan is back," spat LeBeau angrily. "He will fix you but good!"

Dietrich turned his hard eyes onto the little Frenchman and walked up to him. LeBeau, realizing he'd made a mistake, tried to move out of the way but wasn't fast enough. Dietrich roughly seized him by the front of his red sweater and jerked him to his feet. He brought his face close to LeBeau's and chuckled. "You mean if your Colonel gets back, you little French pig! I wouldn't count on him coming back at all! Things happen when one is as badly injured as he is. And if you mouth off to me again, I will cut your tongue out. Verstehen?" To prove his threat, Dietrich gripped the wooden handle of the item from the inside pocket of his outer coat with his other hand, and removed it from it's hidden sheath. It was a Fliegerdolch which belonged to his late brother who had been a Luftwaffe Captain.(1) He placed the blade against LeBeau's cheek. He saw the Frenchman eyes widen with fear at the coolness of the blade against his flesh. He also noticed the fear and apprehension on the faces of Newkirk, Carter and the others including Kinch who managed to look over despite everything. Dietrich chuckled.

LeBeau's eyes shifted to Kinch who was still on his knees groaning from pain. He then looked at Dietrich. "Verstehen," he repeated quietly.

With another smirk, Dietrich roughly shoved LeBeau causing him to fall backward on the bench. Then, the Sergeant, slipping the dress dagger back into it's sheath, abruptly turned and stormed out the barracks door, slamming it behind him. The minute the door closed, the men, including LeBeau, gathered around Kinch.

"I think my shoulder's dislocated," Kinch whispered to Newkirk who was the first to reach him. The Englander looked around. "Olsen, go to barracks twelve and get Wilson. Tell 'im Kinch has been hurt and come right away!"

"On my way!" the dark-haired Sergeant replied as he hurried out the barracks door.

Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau helped Kinch to his feet and carefully guided him to the bench where he sat down, still holding his arm against him.

"You're gonna be okay, mate," Newkirk said in a soothing voice as he knelt down in front of Kinch. "Wilson will have you patched up in no time at all."

LeBeau let loose a string of French obscenities as he and Carter sat close to their Acting Senior POW.

Everybody looked up as the barracks door opened and Olsen, followed by Wilson, clutching his medical bag, entered. The camp medic hurried forward to where Kinch sat, putting his bag on the table.

"Olsen told me what happened," Wilson said with anger in his voice. He examined Kinch gently and after awhile sighed. "Your shoulder's dislocated all right. I'll have to pop it back into place and it's gonna hurt like hell. You want something to bite on before I go ahead?"

"No, that's all right, Joe. Just do it."

Taking a deep breath, Wilson placed his hands on Kinch. "Okay, Kinch. Take a deep breath and don't move." He saw the radioman nod. Wilson began to manipulate the shoulder.

Kinch bit his lower lip so hard it began to bleed to keep from screaming from the agony that Wilson's manipulations was causing. Finally, Kinch hear another pop and knew the shoulder had been manipulated back into place. But that didn't stop the white hot pain he felt. Tears began to form in his eyes and roll down his cheeks. He wiped them away with his good hand. Having finished popping the shoulder back in place, Wilson undid Kinch's pea green jacket and proceeded to look at the shoulder and could see swelling beginning to start around the joint along with bruising.

"I'll have to imobilize your arm for awhile to give the shoulder a chance to heal. But the worst is over." Rummaging through his bag, he pulled out a cloth and proceeded to make a make-shift sling for Kinch's injured arm. Once that was finished, the medic then gave Kinch an injection of pain med and an antibiotic. Fishing out a small bottle of aspirin, he handed it to the radioman. "Take two of these whenever you need to for pain. I'll be back to check on you later." He closed his bag. "Oh, and Kinch. No climbing up and down into the tunnel until that shoulder heals completely. Understand?"

"Gotcha, Joe," Kinch replied, the pain starting to ease a bit even though it was from the morphine injection. "And thanks."

"You're welcome," Wilson said with a smile as he grabbed his medical bag and headed out of the barracks. After he had left there was silence in the barracks for some time. Finally, Kinch looked over at LeBeau who just now seemed to be suffering from the after-effects of having a knife pressed against his face.

"Louie, you okay?" Kinch asked, concerned.

LeBeau let out a deep breath. "Oui, I think so. But mon ami, never mind me. He did not injure me. How are you? I was never so scared in my entire life."

"I know what you mean," Kinch replied exhaling. He looked at the Englander and then waved Sergeant Richard Baker over to join them. "Newkirk, I need you to go below and want you to monitor the switchboard. We have to intercept Klink's phone call to Burkhalter. Hopefully he hasn't already made it. If he makes the call while you're on the switchboard, I need you to pretend Burkhalter's unavailable for a few days and cannot be reached, but that you'll pass the message onto him when he calls. That should buy us some time. Then, I need you to contact Prust and have him select who he wants to help care for the Colonel with the understanding that nobody, and I mean nobody, is to enter that room but those he's handpicked and himself, and to get back to you with the names of those he has chosen so we'll know. Also, there are to be no visitors allowed to Colonel Hogan's room other than Prust, those he's chosen and us. Now go!" Kinch looked at LeBeau. "Louie, watch the door."

"Oui. At once." LeBeau jumped up and reaching the door, cracked it open to keep watch.

As Newkirk disappeared below, Kinch, starting to feel lightheaded, looked at Baker. "Richard, I need you to get on the radio and contact the underground after you contact London. Tell them what's happened to the Colonel and since then. Have London give you everything they have on this Sergeant Karl Dietrich, and I mean everything no matter how trivial. Then contact the underground, speak with Otto and set up a meeting for 2200 hours tonight at the usual rendezvous spot. Tell him also to bring the underground operative who's impersonating the Gestapo officer with him. We need to have a sit down. Go!"

"You got it, Kinch," Baker replied hurrying towards the open tunnel entrance.

Once that was done and orders given, Kinch pinched the bridge of his nose. He was suddenly very tired. Not to mention still in pain although the morphine made the pain somewhat more bearable right now. He suddenly became aware of a cup of hot coffee being placed in front of him and looked up to see Carter quietly standing over him, a look of deep concern on his face. He smiled weakly and took a sip of the hot brew. "Thanks, Andrew," he uttered. "I needed this."

"You're welcome," Carter replied sitting back down. He watched the radioman closely. He was worried about Kinch. He had never been so frightened as he was when Dietrich attacked him dislocating his shoulder in the process. And then to see the German Sergeant threaten LeBeau with that dagger and knowing he had probably shot and nearly killed Colonel Hogan. For the first time in his life since he had joined Hogan's team, Carter had felt absolute uncontrollable terror. Oh sure, he had been afraid during their missions and things, but he controlled his feelings then. But this was something completely different. They would have to handle this themselves without the Colonel. Not that Carter lacked faith in Kinch. He knew Kinch could handle things just as well as the Colonel could. There was no doubt about that. But there was something about Hogan's presence that calmed Carter more. He sighed and looked at his hands.

"Andrew."

Carter, hearing his name, looked up at Kinch who smiled at him. "I'm not the Colonel, Carter. But I promise you we'll survive this and get rid of Dietrich somehow."

Carter raised his eyebrows. How did Kinch know what he was thinking. "I never thought you couldn't handle things, Kinch. I don't want you to think I was thinking that at all. Because I wasn't. I mean, I know you can handle things."

Kinch held up a hand. "I know what you're saying, Carter. And I know you have confidence in me. I just want you to know that I understand what you're thinking. I'd feel better if Colonel Hogan was here as well. But as he isn't, we have to handle things ourselves and keep him safe as well."

Carter smiled. "Thanks, Kinch. Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Yeah. Matter of fact there is. I want you to go to the guards quarters and bring Schultz back here with you. And make sure Klink and Dietrich don't see you. I'm not worried about the other guards; just those two. Can you do that?"

Carter allowed a lopsided grin to appear. "Sure thing," he replied getting up and heading to the door.

After Carter left, Kinch let out a deep breath. They would have to tread extremely carefully. More carefully than they ever had before. Dietrich was not somebody to be trusted, and he had already discovered even after Hogan's shooting that the German guard wasn't beyond killing somebody if need be. Besides protecting the Colonel, Kinch had to protect over one thousand prisoners and Schultz. Also, Kinch didn't completely trust Sergeant Derrick not to cause problems so he'd have to keep an eye on him as well. Kinch pinched the bridge of his nose again. He marveled at how the Colonel could watch over one thousand prisoners, keep order, and carry out his duties as Senior POW officer as well.

Colonel, you can have this job back when you return, Kinch thought to took another drink of coffee. He wanted more than anything right now to lie down on his bunk and get some sleep. But knew he couldn't right now. Information had to be gathered, plans had to be made and put into action. Kinch was suddenly brought out of his reverie when he saw Newkirk reappear from below.

(1) A Fliegerdolch is a dress dagger made in Solingen, Germany in March 1935. It's grip had a wooden core with a dark-blue Morroco leather covering. It was a Luftwaffe Officers dagger. It's wearing was discontinued December of 1944.