Chapter 2

Recap: Hogan's eyebrows knitted. "Look, this isn't a game. I can't help you if you don't talk to me. Can we at least start with your name. It's a simple question."

The man smirked. "Hogan, Robert E., Colonel, serial number 0876707."

Hogan chuckled. "That's very funny. Look, pal, I only have a few minutes before I have to leave. So stop wasting my time and tell me who you are."

"I told you. My name is Hogan, Robert E., Colonel, serial number 0876707."

Hogan found himself unable to respond. He could only stand there with his jaw hanging open and eyes widened in shock.

"Excuse me?" Hogan stated with his eyes still wide as saucers; he couldn't have heard correctly. Could he? "I must have misunderstood what I just heard. But could you repeat what you just said?"

The man shrugged. "I said my name is Hogan, Robert E., Colonel, serial number 0876707."

Hogan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's what I thought you said. This can't be. It has to be some kind of mistake or joke. You can't be Colonel Robert E. Hogan, serial number 0876707."

"And why not may I ask?" the prisoner asked calmly already suspecting the answer he was about to receive.

"Because that's who I am. And you can't be me."

"They didn't tell me there was another American officer in this camp; least of all one with a name identical to mine."

Hogan turned his head slightly to the side. "Who didn't tell you?"

"The Allies of course. I was sent by them."

"Wait a minute," Hogan's head was spinning. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning."

"It's quite simple, Colonel. I was sent by the Allies to start an operation here behind enemy lines, sabotage the German war effort, and pass on intelligence information."

Hogan rubbed the back of his neck as he began pacing around the cell. Something was very, very wrong here. But what? He had many questions he still needed the answers to. But before he could open his mouth, a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Colonel Hogan, time is up. I must ask you to leave," Schultz announced holding open the cell door.

Sighing, Hogan turned and walked out of the cell hearing it clang shut behind him. He didn't wait to hear if Schultz had anything to say as he needed answers and he needed them quickly. Unfortunately, he couldn't contact London for the next week. But maybe the Underground could help.

Kinch, Carter and LeBeau were seated at the table in the main barracks drinking coffee while Newkirk was standing at the potbelly stove.

"It's weird if you ask me," Newkirk said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Bloody weird."

"It's definitely strange, all right," Kinch said. "I mean, where did this guy come from in the first place? The Underground sent no information regarding any downed pilots or any prisoners being brought here for us to get back to London. There's been no Allied planes shot down with flyers bailing out in the area. So again, where did he come from and who is he?"

"I love a good mystery," Newkirk announced. "But not when it involves us." He paused a moment. "I sure hope the Colonel was able to get something outta him in the cooler." He sat down at the table and took a sip of hot coffee.

Just then, the barracks door swung open and Hogan strode in, slamming the door behind him. Not saying a word to anybody, he snatched an empty coffee cup from the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. After sitting the coffee pot back on the stove, he turned and rested one foot on a bench and leaned over, his opposite arm resting on his thigh while he took a drink of his coffee. He looked lost in thought.

His team exchanged troubled looks among themselves before turning their faces back to their commander.

"Colonel, everything all right?" asked Kinch.

Hogan exhaled deeply. "No, Kinch, everything is not all right," he said not looking at his radioman. "In fact, it's far from it." He took another drink.

"Mon Colonel, did you get anything out of the new prisoner?" asked LeBeau.

"Oh yeah," Hogan said, again not looking at the speaker. "I got something from him all right."

Again the men exchanged looks among themselves.

"Did he say where he was from, Gov'nor?" asked a worried Newkirk. "What I mean to say, sir, is did he tell you how he got here?"

Hogan raised his cup to his lips. "You could say that."

"What did he say, Colonel?" asked Carter innocently. "Is he on our side or isn't he? Do we give him the same treatment we give all new prisoners or not?"

Hogan wrapped the fingers of his other hand around his coffee cup as he looked at his men wondering how they would take this piece of news. He exhaled through his nose before he spoke.

"Kinch, seeing as London is on radio silence for the next few days, contact the Underground and see if they've rescued any downed flyers or escaped prisoners in the area lately and just couldn't contact us. Then I want you to contact Bluebird and find out if the Gestapo is up to anything of late involving Stalag 13. Wait for their responses, and let me know the minute you get an answer, I don't care what the hour."

"Sure, Colonel. Whatever you say. When do you want me to do this?" asked Kinch.

"Now would be a good time."

"Okay. I'll get right on it." Kinch got to his feet and headed to the double bunk in the corner. He slapped the hidden mechanism and watched as the lower bunk rose and the ladder dropped. He then stepped over the lower bed frame onto the ladder and climbed down.

Hogan motioned with his head to the barracks door. "Carter, watch the door."

The young Sergeant got to his feet, cracked open the door and kept watch.

LeBeau and Newkirk then exchanged worried looks. Something told them that things were very wrong and it had something to do with the new prisoner.

"Colonel, you're actin' awful strange even for a Yank. Now what did this bloke tell you that's got you so uptight?" asked Newkirk worriedly.

Hogan made a sound with his mouth. "Well, when I asked him who he was, he said his name was Colonel Robert E. Hogan, serial number 0876707."

Both Newkirk and LeBeau could only look at Hogan with wide eyes and dropped jaws.

"How could he do that?" Carter replied with narrowed eyes looking over his shoulder. "I mean, that's your name and serial number."

"Tell me about it," Hogan replied taking another drink of coffee.

"Are you sure you heard 'im right, sir?" asked Newkirk. "I mean, maybe you heard 'im wrong?"

"No, I heard him correctly. I asked him twice."

"Sacre Chats!" exclaimed the Frenchman looking from Hogan to Newkirk. "I bet he is a filthy Bosche planted here to spy on us!"

"Did he say who sent him, Colonel?" asked Carter, instead of keeping watch.

"He did. He told me he was sent by the Allies to begin an operation here behind enemy lines, sabotage the German war effort, and pass on enemy intelligence," Hogan replied looking back at Carter. "Sound familiar?" His eyes narrowed. "Carter, watch the door."

Carter, instead of keeping watch, approached the table with an bewildered expression. "Well I agree with LeBeau. He can't be Colonel Hogan because you're Colonel Hogan and we know you're Colonel Hogan because there's only one Colonel Hogan and you're him."

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Carter, stop your natterin' and go watch the door like the Colonel asked." The Englander then raised his eyes to look up at his commander. "So what do we do, sir? Give 'im the usual treatment?"

"We might not have time seeing as the Gestapo is coming in twenty-four hours to question him," said Hogan. "Until then, our friend remains in solitary. And he's in a cell with no tunnel access which is good." He took another drink of coffee.

"And those Bosche play rough," LeBeau commented. He shrugged. "If we are lucky, we won't have to do anything about him. Perhaps the Gestapo will simply take him away and that will be the end of it."

"LeBeau's right, sir," Newkirk. "The Gestapo will take care of the ruddy problem for us."

Hogan shook his head. "Not really. Sure they can take him away and they'll probably kill him. But what worries me is that by claiming he's me, the Gestapo might also take me along with them until they can figure out which one of us is the real Hogan. Also, there have been no air raids, no escapes that we know of, and no missions from London prior to radio silence on their end, so I ask you, where did this person come from?"

Nobody answered immediately as the truth of what Hogan said registered with them.

"But until we figure this out," Hogan continued. "….he is not to know anything about the operation and we run the usual check on him or as much of one as we can without London's help. I want to know everything there is about our friend."

"Too bad we can't contact London and ask them," grumbled LeBeau, resting the side of his face against the palm of his hand, elbow on the table.

"Not for a week we can't, mate," Newkirk reminded him gloomily. He looked up at Hogan again. "Sir, is it possible you know this bloke or maybe he knows you, and something happened to him and yours is the only name he remembers for some reason?"

Hogan shrugged as he drained his coffee cup. "Anything's possible, I suppose," he said. "But he doesn't look familiar to me at all and he wasn't a member of my bomber crew with the 504th. I knew each of those guys by heart."

Just then, Kinch's head appeared as he climbed up from below. Stepping over the bed frame, he walked over to the Colonel and handed him a message. "I heard from the Underground, sir. You said you wanted to know immediately. I have Baker monitoring the radio waiting to hear back from Bluebird. He'll let me know the minute he hears anything." He stood by and waited while Hogan read the message.

"That's what I was afraid of," Hogan said with a sigh. He looked up at the others. "The Underground says there has been no activity regarding escaped prisoners or downed flyers in the last few days." He folded the paper and tapped it against the palm of his other hand as he stood up and began to pace.

"Any reply, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"No," Hogan mumbled as his eyes narrowed.

Kinch's eyes narrowed as he watched his commander's actions before he looked at LeBeau and Newkirk.

"What's going on?" he asked them. In as few words as possible, the duo repeated the story Hogan had told them. They noticed the radio man's eyes widen in surprise.

"This guy says he's Colonel Robert Hogan?" he said. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Wish we were," Newkirk grumbled as he lit a cigarette and took a long drag on it to calm his nerves. "We've got two Colonel Hogans in camp."

"Well this guy's got to be a phony," Kinch echoed the Frenchman's earlier words. "That's all there is to it."

Hogan continued pacing. "I just wish I knew what his game is," he said to them. "I suspected something was wrong when he wouldn't tell Klink his name, rank, and serial number, although now I know why." He glanced at the trio with a smirk as he stopped pacing. "Can you imagine Klink's reaction to hearing there were two Colonel Hogans in Stalag 13? He would've had Schultz lock up both of us. He may yet once he finds out." He resumed pacing nervously.

It was at this moment Baker's head popped up from the tunnel. "Kinch, I just heard from Bluebird. He said as far as he knows there is nothing going on in the Gestapo. He did say to let Papa Bear know he's acting for Major Hochstetter for the next two weeks as he's on leave. Other than that, all's quiet."

"Thanks, Richard," Kinch replied.

"Wait a minute," said Hogan. He saw Baker pause and look at the Colonel.

"Sir?"

"Did Bluebird say anything about Hochstetter definitely being on vacation or is he on some kind of special assignment?"

"I asked him that," Baker replied leaning his arms on the bed frame. "He said it's definitely a vacation of sorts. Seems Hochstetter accumulated a lot of time and needed to take some of it because he was recovering from a bad case of the flu." He paused seeing Hogan's face. "You want me to radio him back, sir?"

"No thanks. It's not necessary. Just keep monitoring the radio in case we get any calls."

"Yes, sir." The young man stared worriedly at his commander. "Colonel, is everything all right? You seem kind of on edge."

"Believe me, you don't wanna know," Newkirk replied sarcastically taking another drag on his cigarette.

Sensing he wasn't about to get any more information, Baker promptly disappeared back down the ladder. Once he was gone, Hogan looked at his team.

"Okay, until further notice, I don't want anybody mentioning anything about another Colonel Hogan in this camp to the other prisoners unless it becomes absolutely necessary. I don't need the men to start questioning my credibility as to who is the real Hogan. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Kinch and Carter replied simultaneously.

Right, Gov'nor."

"Oui, mon Colonel."

Kinch stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pea green jacket. "Colonel, what do we do if this guy ends up released from solitary into the population here? What do we do then?"

Hogan shook his head. "I don't know yet. But I'll tell you one thing. If Klink releases him into the camp population, he may just assign him to barracks two, and if he is a spy, he'll be searching this entire barracks for proof of our operation. I'll have to come up with an explanation for Klink as to why he has the same name as me. I can't afford to have Klink start doubting me and have me locked up while my namesake is allowed to roam free in camp."

"That's for bloody sure," grumbled Newkirk puffing on his cigarette.

Hogan rested one foot on the bench and balanced on his other leg. He rested both forearms on his thigh with hands dangling over the sides. He suddenly felt very weary. "But if we can keep him on ice until London ends their radio silence, we can contact them and perhaps they can clear up this mystery for us."

"That's if they can clear it up, Colonel," Carter reminded him.

Sighing, Hogan looked at the young Sergeant with a shake of his head. "Carter, why must you always put a damper on things that are already bleak to begin with?"

"Sorry, Colonel," Carter replied trying to hide his head.

Hogan sighed and tilted his head just a bit. "Then again, nothing's ever simple where we're concerned. So why should this be any different?"