A/N: I am using the OC of Sergeant Paul Anderson with the permission of his creator, Jennaya. A belated Happy New Year to everybody.

Chapter 27

Sergeant Joe Wilson was not surprised when, hearing the door of the infirmary open, turned and saw Hogan number two entering. He had expected him, and didn't bother hiding his disdain for the man who was not only making Colonel Hogan's life miserable, but endangering it, plus had nearly killed Newkirk. He stood with arms folded across his chest and stared hard at the man. "Can I help you with something, sir?" he asked sarcastically.

Hogan number two ignored the sarcasm from somebody he considered not worth his time or trouble. Looking around he didn't see anybody other than Wilson. "Yes, Wilson. Sergeant Carter said he came here not feeling well and was treated by Sergeant Anderson. I'd like to speak with him just to make sure everything's all right with Carter. Is he here?"

Having heard about this man's plans for Kinch and Baker, Wilson could only imagine what this man would have to say when he met Paul Anderson. "He's in the back room. Wait a minute and I'll get him for you." Wilson then turned without giving the phony a chance to reply and disappeared in the back. A few seconds later, a black man, followed by Wilson, emerged from the back room. Wilson saw the stunned look on the phony's face when his eyes fell on Anderson.

"Colonel, this is Sergeant Paul Anderson. He treated Sergeant Carter," Wilson said. "Paul, this is the other Colonel Hogan you've heard about."

Anderson, having been forewarned about the phony and his apparent dislike of blacks, kept his face impassive not wanting to give the man the satisfaction. "How can I help you, Colonel?" he asked coolly. Having dealt with people like this all his life, he was used to this man's attitude and could handle himself.

Still thrown for a loop by the realization that not only had a black man treated Carter, but that Carter had allowed it with no problems, it took a few seconds for Hogan number two to compose himself. And when he finally spoke, he didn't bother to conceal his dislike for the assistant medic. "I just wanted to know about Sergeant Carter? Is he all right?"

Anderson nodded maintaining eye contact. "He's fine. He came here complaining of an upset stomach so I gave him something for it, and suggested he lay down for awhile. He slept for several hours, and since he felt better when he awoke, I let him return to the barracks advising him to relax and take it easy. He was too stressed out and tense. If he follows my instructions, he'll be fine."

"Why couldn't Sergeant Wilson take care of him?" the phony asked.

"Because Sergeant Wilson wasn't here. So it was either let Carter suffer, or try and help him. Would you have preferred I let him suffer, Colonel?"

"No, of course not. I was just asking is all."

"Believe me when I say, sir," Wilson stated. "Sergeant Anderson is quite capable and an extremely qualified medic. He knows what he's doing."

Hogan number two nodded and without so much as a 'thank you,' abruptly turned and exited the infirmary. He told himself he would add Sergeant Anderson to the list of people to get rid of once he took over the camp as Senior POW. Once outside the infirmary, a crooked grin appeared on his face as instead of heading back to the barracks, he made a detour and headed in the direction of the Kommandantur to see Hilda and arrange his date for tonight. The crooked grin, he told himself, was that if tonight went the way he hoped, he could add her as another notch on his belt.

Carter had been grinning when he entered the barracks and nodded to Hogan as he sat down at the table. Hogan, who had been drinking a cup of coffee, had one foot on the bench, resting both arms on his thigh. He glanced briefly over his shoulder. "Olsen, watch the door," he ordered. He turned back to Carter, LeBeau and Kinch seconds after Olsen left his bunk and stood at the cracked open barracks door keeping watch.

"Well?" Hogan asked looking at his young Sergeant intently. "How'd it go?"

Carter smiled excitedly. "I was worried for a minute that he might not buy the story you told me to tell him. Y'know how sometimes you're really not sure about whether or not a person is gonna believe what you tell 'im? I remember once when I…."

"Carter," Hogan interrupted the rambling. "Did he believe you?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, Colonel. He bought the whole story. He's probably at the infirmary now checking it out."

"Good," Hogan stated. "Okay, what do we have as of right now. We know our friend has undergone plastic surgery to conceal his true identity which means it has to be either someone we know, or someone I know and regardless he doesn't want to be recognized."

"I'm leaning toward somebody you know, Colonel," Kinch answered. "Only because he seems to know a lot about you. Things only you would know."

"He also knows how to play Klink, mon Colonel," added LeBeau. "Nobody who just got here would know how to do that. And he already knew how to do that the day he arrived. So how would he know how unless he'd seen you do it before?"

"And…" Kinch said, "He has a golden tongue and can apparently talk a person into things. Look how he's convinced some of the newbies to attack you? He's also got Klink and Hilda under his spell. So he's apparently familiar with you in that aspect as well."

"And thanks to getting a look at Gower's file, we now know our friend and Gower are working together. I believe our friend passes info or requests on to Gower who then passes them on to van Kueren," Hogan said, scratching his chin. "Gentlemen, I suspect our Corporal Gower is really a Gestapo agent planted here to help the phony. But it doesn't mean that the phony is a Gestapo spy as well."

"What makes you suspect Gower might be Gestapo, Colonel?" Carter asked. "I mean, he could really be Luftwaffe."

"Think about it, Carter," Kinch said seriously. "The different branches of the German military don't like or trust each other. That being said, can you really see somebody from the Luftwaffe working willingly with the Gestapo?"

Carter thought about what Kinch said and shrugged. "Guess not. That's probably why they lost the first war."

"Andre, I hate to ask this, but what has the different branches of the German military not liking or trusting each other got to do with the Krauts losing the first war?"

Carter looked at the Frenchman surprised that he didn't know the obvious answer. "Well golly, what other military do you know where nobody works with or trusts each other? They lost the first war because they couldn't work together and share information." He saw LeBeau and Kinch staring at him in amazement. LeBeau then rolled his eyes towards the heavens before focusing on Hogan who had no reaction to Carter's hypothesis.

"I bet he is a filthy Gestapo Bosche as well, Colonel," LeBeau sneered, anger in his eyes.

"We don't know that yet for sure," Hogan reminded him. "He could be somebody we sent to London who's escaped and come back seeking revenge. He could also be one of our boys gone bad. And without the radio, we have no way to find out if somebody's escaped. Hopefully we'll be able to get the radio working tonight and can contact London and put an end to this once and for all."

"Heads up, Colonel!" Olsen suddenly announced closing the barracks door. "The phony's coming this way from Klink's office." He hurried back to his own bunk.

Standing up straight now, Hogan looked at Carter. "Carter, scram back to your bunk." He watched the young Sergeant move to his bunk and sit on it with a dejected look on his face and twiddling his fingers, hoping he looked bored. Seconds later, the door opened and Hogan number two walked in. He looked around the barracks before his eyes fell on Carter who pretended not to have seen or heard him come in.

"You all right, Carter?" Hogan number two asked. He got no answer. "Carter!"

"Huh?" Carter asked turning his head and looking up at the man addressing him. "I'm sorry. Did you say something, sir?" Carter's eyes shifted to take in Hogan number one who was seen bristling at one of his men calling Hogan number two 'sir,' and LeBeau and Kinch who were staring at him with disdain. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. Hogan number two looked around and saw the others staring at Carter and then him. Ignoring them, he turned back to Carter.

"Forget about them," Hogan number two sneered jerking his head in the direction of the others. "I asked you if you were all right?"

"Yes, sir, I'm fine. Just bored."

Hogan number two just nodded. He then looked at Hogan number one with a devious smirk on his face. "Hilda is so looking forward to our date tonight. I would invite you to watch, but I'm sure you wouldn't want to see Hilda and I steam up the windows of the car." He chuckled seeing Hogan number one's face turn dark with a dangerous look in his eyes. "Of course if you think you need to pick up a few pointers on how to handle a woman, well, I'd be willing to share her with you so you can practice." He smirked again seeing Hogan grinding his lower jaw and his face turn a deep, deep crimson; his eyes blazing with pent-up rage. Hogan number one started forward, but stopped when a hand gripped his shoulder. Looking around, Hogan number one saw Kinch standing behind him, his eyes looking into his commanding officer's.

"Ignore him, Colonel," Kinch answered keeping his voice under control. "He's just trying to goad you into doing something you'll regret, and then where will that leave us?"

With a final glare at the phony, Hogan number one looked back at his second-in-command, inhaled, then exhaled deeply and nodded. He then turned away from the phony, refilled his coffee cup, and sat down at the table along with Kinch. He took a drink of the still hot coffee. He knew Kinch was right and that the phony was taunting him, trying to goad him into doing something stupid that in the end, would not serve him or the men any good. Also, Klink, as nervous as he currently was, would likely toss him into the cooler and that would impede with his plans. But the way the phony talked about Hilda enraged him. Not only was it disrespectful, but Hogan was more positive than ever that the phony only saw Hilda as a play toy to be used, abused, and then tossed aside after being damaged or broken. In fact, Hogan wondered if he should rethink his order to Olsen not to kill the bastard if he tried forcing himself on her during their so-called 'date.' He took another drink of coffee. But even without looking, he could feel the phony's eyes boring a hole into the back of his head.

Next thing he knew, he felt the phony's hot breath as the man brought his head close to Hogan's ear and spoke in a very low and taunting voice. "Don't feel bad, Colonel. I mean, if you can't, shall we say, get the equipment to work, I'll be sure to let you know if she's any good when I get back." He stood up and started to turn but suddenly found his arm painfully and roughly held by Hogan number one who slowly got to his feet. Hogan number one's eyes were as cold as ice, and his face impassive, but the men could tell he was fighting to control his rage which was threatening to boil over. Hogan number one brought his face close to the phony's.

"I'm only going to say this once so you'd better listen good," he said. He tightened his grip when the man tried to yank his arm away. "You lay one inappropriate hand on Hilda, and I will bury you so deep in the ground, you won't be found until the next war's over if then. Am I making myself clear?" The phony didn't respond as he and Hogan number one continued their staring match. Then, Hogan number one roughly shoved the phony's arm away as if it burned his hand. "Now get out of my sight." He then sat back down and took a drink of coffee. The phony massaged his arm before turning around and walking towards the smaller room. He roughly pushed open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Animal," LeBeau muttered under his breath.

Kinch grinned as he looked at Hogan. "You surprised me, Colonel," he remarked. "If it had been me, I probably would've decked him right here."

Hogan smirked. "Don't think I wasn't tempted." But we will have the last laugh before this is over and he and Gower are both gone, he thought to himself.

Newkirk was still asleep when the cement block slid out from its space, and LeBeau crawled through the opening into the cell. He then quietly walked to the bars and looking through them, smiled when he saw Schultz seated in a chair across from the cell but slightly to the side, sound asleep, his rifle leaning against the wall beside him. LeBeau shook his head because the guard was snoring so loudly he was surprised Schultz didn't wake himself up. Satisfied, he returned to the bunk and kneeling beside it, covered Newkirk's mouth which caused the Englander's eyes to pop open, and a muffled shout to be heard before his eyes fell on the little Frenchman. LeBeau patted Newkirk's shoulder.

"It is time, Pierre," he whispered removing his hand.

Newkirk slowly struggled into a sitting position and put both feet on the floor. He yawned and then rubbed the back of his neck. "Blimey, what are you tryin' to do? Scare the bleedin' daylights outta me?" Newkirk said in a low voice.

"Sorry, mon ami," LeBeau apologized, grinning. "But keep your voice down. Schultz is sleeping outside the cell."

"No problem, mate. A bleedin' air raid wouldn't wake up the ole barrage balloon." Newkirk started getting to his feet and immediately felt a bit dizzy; he swayed but the Frenchman was quickly at his side and grabbed his arm steadying him.

"You are in no condition to do anything, Pierre. You stay here and rest. I will tell the Colonel to have somebody else check out the antenna from below."

Newkirk shook his head. "I promised the Gov'nor I would do it, and I'm not gonna let 'im down. He's countin' on me. I just got up a bit too fast is all."

LeBeau suspected the Englander was far from fully recovered, but he knew better than to argue with his friend. He would just stay close to him until he was back in the cell.

"Did you bring Clyde with you?" Newkirk asked quietly.

LeBeau smiled. "Certainement. I will get him and then we can leave." The little Frenchman hurried over to the opening, reached inside, and pulled out an inflated dummy wearing an RAF uniform. He quickly arranged the dummy on the cot facing the wall, then covered it with the thin blanket. Satisfied, he then crawled through the opening followed by Newkirk. The cement block was then moved back into place.

"Ummm," Hilda moaned against the lips of Hogan number two that were pressed firmly against hers as the man was not only kissing her passionately, but was in fact, plundering her mouth. Needing to come up for air, Hilda pulled away and fanned herself with one hand as she smiled at the man. Despite the windows in the back seat being slightly opened, she felt hot.

"I've missed you," Hogan number two said with a smile. "And I'm sorry if it appears I was avoiding you the last few days because I really wasn't."

"I'm glad," Hilda purred with a slight smile as she studied the man's face. "I was beginning to feel neglected, and that you were just toying with me. Just like somebody else did who shall remain nameless," she pouted sticking out her lower lip.

Cupping her cheek with one hand, Hogan number two kissed her passionately again before pulling away. "You're so cute when you stick out your lower lip like that." He ran a finger down the side of her face before placing it under her chin and elevating her face so he could look into her eyes. "I couldn't even if I wanted to. It's just that I've had a lot going on that I've had to deal with. But I promise not to neglect you again." He smiled charmingly as he kissed her cheeks, and forehead before again her voluptuous lips. But as they were kissing, Hilda at first didn't feel the hand on her knee that slowly and suddenly made it's way under her skirt; not until she felt the hand squeeze her thigh. She suddenly pulled her face away from his, and looked down at the hand under her skirt massaging her thigh. Even though she had to admit she had had thoughts of giving herself to this man, something was holding her back. Something she couldn't understand.

"Stop," she announced to Hogan number two, removing his hand from under her skirt. The man smirked, moved closer to Hilda, and put his hand back under her skirt grabbing her thigh this time. He pressed himself against her so much she was struggling to remain seated in an upright position.

Olsen, who had been crouching behind a nearby car close enough to see the two people inside but not much else, but could hear them because of the cracked open windows, had rolled his eyes at the phony's lines and couldn't believe that Hilda could possibly fall for such crap. Shaking his head, he was about to change his position and become more comfortable when he saw the phony leaning forward as if trying to push Hilda down on the seat. It was then that he heard her say 'stop.' He started to move closer, readying himself to yank open the back door, drag the phony out, and beat him to a pulp, when what Hilda did next caused him to pause.

"I said stop!" Hilda shouted roughly pushing the man away from her. She stared at him with hard eyes. Hogan number two held up both hands in defeat, feigning surprise at her reaction. "I am not that kind of girl," she added.

"I…I'm sorry," he said in his best apologetic voice. He figured he'd best hold off, knowing that if he upset her, Klink would lock him up so fast, and that would not go over well with the Gestapo when he had an assignment to fulfill. Nor would even an idiot such as Klink any longer have doubts about him, because he would never believe that Colonel Hogan would force himself on any woman. "Please forgive me," he begged Hilda who continued staring at him, a hurt look in her eyes which were bright with unshed tears.

"I have to leave," she announced suddenly as she opened the door and placed one leg outside, but felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hilda, wait…." Hogan number two said. But the woman jerked her shoulder away and bolted from the car, running as fast as she could leaving Hogan number two in the back seat alone. As Olsen watched, jaw grinding with anger at what he had witnessed, he saw the man pound the back of the front seat with a fist in apparent anger.

Satisfied that Hilda was no longer in danger, Olsen quietly sneaked away from his hiding place and headed back to the barracks to report to Colonel Hogan.