A/N: Yaaay! Three hundred reviews! That's a new high for me. I want to thank all those who read and reviewed this story. And a small side note; only four more chapters before the completion of this story.

Chapter 46

After leaving Stalag 13, the truck carrying the five prisoners continued along the road that would eventually take them in the direction of Stalag 16 had they actually been going there. Seated in the back were two armed guards in Luftwaffe uniforms, keeping their eyes and weapons trained on their prisoners who wore shackles on their wrists and ankles.

"What do you think Stalag 16 is like?" Private Gifford asked Sergeant Rowland, a hint of fear in his voice.

Rowland shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. Schultz would only tell me that the Kommandant there, a Colonel Hoffmeyer, is really tough, and that we had a good thing at Stalag 13 until we blew it by attacking the real Hogan." He smirked. "That fat slob still believed that guy with the black hair was the real Hogan. Sheesh."

Corporal Brisbane rubbed the back of his neck, the chains of his wrist shackles jingling from the motion. "I'm just glad we're not going to England," he said looking at the others.

"Why?" asked Private Hill, the youngest of the small group.

Brisbane shrugged. "Well, if we were going to England, we'd be facing charges of assaulting a superior officer. In other words, we'd be in deep shit then."

Corporal Stoddard snorted. "I think we're in deep shit now. I suspect Colonel Hogan is behind the reason we're being transferred and not sent to England."

"Which Hogan?" asked Hill with a small chuckle.

"I have no idea. Take your pick," said Gifford. "My money's on the one we believe is Hogan. But what I can't figure out is after we did what he wanted us to, why would he let us be transferred? I'd think he'd want to keep us. I mean, we could've helped him when he took over as Senior POW officer."

"Hey," Hill interrupted suddenly. "We're slowing down. We can't be at Stalag 16 already, can we?" He looked at the others, puzzled, with fear starting to set in. They felt the truck stop and exchanged looks. Their guards were also on alert. The prisoners began to wonder if they were going to be taken from the truck instead, and shot in the woods. They heard muffled voices outside and suddenly the canvas flap of the back of the truck was pulled back, and Colonel Robert Hogan climbed inside along with Carter and Olsen who then helped LeBeau. Glancing around, the three men stared at the five prisoners before the man who had caused all the trouble climbed into the truck next with assistance, followed by Newkirk and Kinch. The guards in the truck relaxed. Wylie shook his head when he saw the five men he had coerced into beating up Hogan in an attempt to kill him. Carter and LeBeau sat on either side of their commanding officer with Olsen next to LeBeau. Newkirk and Kinch sat on either side of Wylie. The truck then started up again and continued on it's way to it's destination.

For several minutes nobody said anything but continued to stare at each other; the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. The five prisoners stared hard at the two officers in confusion not understanding what was going on. Finally, it was Private Hill who broke the silence.

"I guess we're not really going to Stalag 16, are we?" he asked nervously looking at Hogan number one. The Colonel didn't respond but continued to glare at the prisoners.

"Filthy animals!" LeBeau hissed angrily. "You should all face a firing squad for what you did to the Colonel."

Hogan looked at the Frenchman. "Calm down, LeBeau," he said.

A sudden realization hit Private Hill. He swallowed hard. "You're really Colonel Hogan, aren't you?" he asked, now scared.

"You would have known that if any of you had bothered to find out," Hogan said coldly. "But where are my manners? Gentlemen, let me introduce Captain Wylie, otherwise known as the phony Colonel Hogan. Captain, I believe you know your partners-in-crime."

"Captain Wylie?" asked Brisbane, wide-eyed. "But…but…he said he was…"

"We know what he said," hissed Kinch glaring at the men. He still raged internally as memories of what his commanding officer endured at the hands of these men in the rec hall replayed in his mind. "He lied. He lied to get you to do his bidding which was to dispose of the Colonel."

"And you bloody bastards went along with 'im just as nice as you please," sneered Newkirk. "That's why you're all going to England to stand trial. Of course if me mates and I had our way, you'd never see England or anything else if you get me drift." Newkirk gently caressed his weapon as he stared hard at the five men. The Englander could sense the fear his words had instilled in them which is what he had intended. "You're just bloody lucky Kinch and I got to the rec hall when we did."

"How could you do that to the Colonel?" asked Carter. "I mean, what did he ever do to you except try to make things better for you?"

"You're sending us to England, Colonel?" asked Hill looking now as if he was about to cry. He now realized he and his friends had messed up big time.

"That's right, Private," Hogan explained. "Sending all of you to Stalag 16 was a ruse to get you out of camp. I'm sending you to England to face a court-martial for violation of Articles 64 and 93 of the Articles of War, while our friend here will face charges of treason."

"Treason?" echoed a stunned Rowland, staring at the gagged man who sat motionless between Kinch and Newkirk, shackles on his wrists and ankles.

"That's right," Hogan said with his command face in place. "But I'm curious about something." He tilted his head slightly. "Why did you do it? I'd really like to know."

"Because we were stupid, sir," Brisbane began. He was hoping they could appeal to the Colonel's duty to his men and somehow convince him to change his mind and let them back into Stalag 13. "And we believed him," he gestured to Wylie. "And some of us didn't know you very well or at all."

"Both of which could have been remedied if any of you had bothered to come and see me. Or if you didn't feel comfortable doing that, you could have spoken with any number of men who had been here for a while. But you didn't. So that excuse doesn't wash."

Brisbane turned and glanced at the other four then faced Hogan number one. "We were wrong and we're sorry, Colonel," he added. "Other than that, I don't know what else to say."

"Colonel, we always heard you are a very fair and forgiving man," Gifford began slowly. "What I mean, sir, is that we've heard you don't hold grudges."

"No, I don't hold grudges," said Hogan. "But somehow, Private, I don't feel very forgiving this time. Try again."

"Colonel Hogan, I…that is, we're sorry for what we did. Really we are," Hill said softly. "If you want us to beg then we will. Whatever you want us to do to atone for what we did to you we'll do. But I don't know what else to say. Just tell us what we can do."

"I never thought I would ever say this to any of my men, Private, but save it for your court-martial because I don't want to hear it from any of you. But to answer your question, there is nothing any of you can do. Nobody held a gun to your heads. Nobody threatened you, your friends, or your families. And if they had, you could have come to me and I would have found a way to help you. But you didn't. You chose instead to lure me into the rec hall where you then proceeded to attack me with the intention of killing me. You all did this on your own. So I have no sympathy for any of you, nor will I intercede on your behalf with the military. And just let me close with this. I hope all five of you think long and hard as to whether the attack on me was worth it to your careers."

As Hogan spoke, Captain Wylie's mind was working hard planning how to escape and not be sent to London. If he could only get Hogan's weapon away from him, he somehow could gain the upper hand perhaps, maybe even kill him before the others killed him. He really didn't care about them at this point. It was Hogan he wanted and it would be Hogan he would have, even if he died afterwards. He turned his head slightly and glared at the officer with disgust. He had tried lunging for the weapon with that Luftwaffe Captain and failed, but the advantage with Hogan was that he was injured and sore after being shot with blanks. So, if he could punch or strike at one of those injured areas, it would make Hogan loosen his grip on the gun allowing him to grab it and fire.

As if sensing what the man beside him was thinking, Newkirk leaned sideways and brought his mouth very close to Wylie's ear.

"Please try something so I can slit your ruddy throat," he whispered. He then straightened up and smirked when Wylie turned to stare at him with hatred.

"And what he says goes for me as well," added Kinch in a soft voice. "If you try anything, and we mean anything, against the Colonel before we get your sorry ass on that plane, you'll arrive in London in a box." Wylie turned to the radioman and snorted in disdain. Their threats didn't make him change his mind. He would make sure he didn't go to London and take Hogan out at the same time.

The rest of the ride was in silence until the vehicle slowed to a stop fifteen minutes later. Everybody heard the slow spinning of airplane propellers and knew that a plane was standing by. Hogan jumped down from the back of the truck followed by Carter, Olsen and LeBeau. Then the guards in the back jumped down with their weapons pointed, and as the five military prisoners got out, they were joined by the two men from the cab of the truck; one dressed as a Luftwaffe Captain, the other a driver. The Captain smiled at Hogan warmly and they shook hands.

"Good to see you again, Colonel," he said.

"Good to be seen, Karl," Hogan replied with an amused grin. "I thank you for your help. Can we give you and your men a lift anywhere before we return to camp?"

"Not necessary, my friend. I know somebody who lives nearby where my men and I can get a ride."

Hogan nodded. "Just be careful. LeBeau, you and Carter help Karl and his men get our quintet on-board. Make sure the guards on the plane understand I want these men secured to their seats and that we have one more prisoner for them."

"Oui, Colonel." LeBeau gestured to Carter and the two of them joined Karl and his men and ordered the five despondent prisoners to start walking towards the plane. That left Wylie, Kinch and Newkirk still in the truck all of whom had been moving forward with Kinch and Newkirk keeping Wylie covered the entire time.

What sounded like a noise from the direction of the plane distracted Hogan and Olsen and made them both look away, and Wylie saw his chance. He launched himself at Hogan who was knocked off his feet and landed on his back, wincing in pain from the additional weight landing on his bruised chest. He felt Wylie grab at his weapon and try to wrestle the gun away from him. But despite the pain, Hogan struggled to retain possession of the gun.

Newkirk and Kinch jumped down quickly, and with Olsen's help, grabbed Wylie by both arms and it took all their collective strengths to try and budge him. A shot was fired just before they managed to pull Wylie off of Hogan and away from him. Newkirk and Olsen firmly held onto the Captain while Kinch knelt beside Hogan who was still down and grimacing while pressing a hand to his chest.

"Colonel, are you all right? Were you hit?" Kinch asked worriedly. He relaxed a bit when Hogan slowly and with his help, started to sit up. "Easy, sir." Hogan was now sitting up rubbing his chest area and let out a deep breath.

"I'm all right, Kinch. The bullet didn't hit me, but I heard it whiz past my head. The bastard caught me right in my bruises. Help me up."

Kinch got the Colonel to his feet and held on when Hogan swayed just a bit. "You sure you're all right, sir?"

Hogan, looking at his second-in-command, could see the deep worry embedded in his eyes and on his face. "I will be," he assured him before letting out a deep breath through his mouth. He then glared at Wylie who, despite being firmly in the grasp of Newkirk and Olsen, was still struggling. "Get him out of my sight," Hogan ordered harshly. He allowed Kinch to assist him as they walked behind Newkirk and Olsen who were nearly dragging Wylie to the plane where Carter and LeBeau just now confronted them.

"Sacre bleu!" LeBeau exclaimed seeing Kinch aiding their commanding officer. "We heard a gunshot. What happened?"

"This ruddy bastard tried to take the Gov'nor's gun from him."

"Are you hurt at all, Colonel?" exclaimed Carter, clearly frightened. He didn't know how much more Hogan could take, but kept his feelings to himself.

"I'm fine," Hogan repeated as he got closer to the men. "Just a bit sore and had the wind knocked out of me is all. Nothing to worry about." He smiled at Carter and LeBeau, but his smile looked more like a grimace. "What about the other prisoners?"

"They are all secured, mon Colonel. They didn't give us any trouble."

"That's good." Hogan straightened up and sighed. God, he was so sore and exhausted, and couldn't wait to get back to camp. But he knew none of them wouldn't get any sleep then because they still had roll call, and then they'd all wait to hear from London as to whether the plane arrived or not. He suddenly noticed Newkirk look out from the open door of the plane and the Englander looked exasperated.

"Gov'nor, we got the bloody bastard secured in his seat, and unfortunately we had to remove his gag so he wouldn't suffocate when the plane takes off. But he says he wants to talk to us one final time."

Hogan exhaled and moved away from Kinch. He then gestured to Kinch, Carter and LeBeau to follow him. The four men proceeded up the steps of the small plane and went inside where they found Wylie seated separately from the others and secured with rope. There were three armed guards assigned to the plane who were glaring at him with distaste.

"Ah, Colonel Hogan. So glad you and the others have come to see me off," Wylie said sarcastically. "Tell me, you feeling all right after our little tussle outside?"

The guards looked around and noticed Hogan and his men. They promptly came to attention and saluted. Hogan returned the salute although a bit slowly; his bandaged hand noticeable as well as the faint but still visible bruises showing on his face. Also, his movements were stiff as if he was in discomfort.

Hogan crossed his arms and barely hid a grimace from the others. "What do you want, Wylie?"

"I just want you and your men to know that after I arrive in England, I intend to do two things. One, I intend to contact the German underground there and have them pass on the information I have on you to Major Hochstetter." He saw the ever so slight reaction on Hogan's face to his words and knew he had struck a nerve, and a smile appeared. "I'm sure the Major will want to see you right after that. And two, I'm going to file charges of assault against Sergeant Carter for his attack on me. I'm an officer."

"Not for bloody long," Newkirk whispered to Olsen with a tilt of his head. Olsen chuckled. A glance from Hogan silenced them.

"I will ruin that little wimp."

Hogan arched his eyebrows. "Assault? What assault?" He looked around at his men. "Did any of you guys see Carter commit any assault?" All the men denied seeing anything. Hogan then looked at Carter. "Carter, did you attack this man when I wasn't looking?"

"No, sir, Colonel," Carter admitted with an innocent expression. "I wouldn't do a thing like that. No way, no how."

Hogan nodded and looked back at Wylie. "You must've fell and hit your head when we restrained you. Carter never laid a hand on you." He saw Wylie's face turn a deep shade of red.

"I know what you're doing, Hogan. You think you're gonna be able to save this sad excuse for a soldier, but I promise you, heads will roll including yours." He smirked. "I can't wait to see you either in front of a Gestapo firing squad, or hung with wire. I understand that form of execution is Hitler's favorite. Is exceedingly painful as well I hear."

Sighing, Hogan checked his watch noticing he and the men had to get going if they were going to make it back to camp and change in time for night roll call. "I'd really like to shoot the breeze with you, Wylie, but I have to run." He reached inside his windbreaker and removed the manila envelope; handing it to one of the guards. "This envelope contains the depositions of everybody involved in this mess. Make sure General Butler receives these. It's urgent and he's expecting them."

"Yes, sir," one of the guards, a Sergeant, replied accepting the envelope. "Is there anything else we need to do, Colonel?"

"Yes. I want an armed guard watching this man at all times. He's dangerous and can't be trusted. But if you have trouble with him, you can always open the hatch over the ocean and toss 'im out. With those shackles I'm sure he'd sink quickly."

The Sergeant's jaw dropped and he looked scared. "But, Colonel. What would General Butler say if we did that?"

Hogan chuckled letting the young man think he was joking. But he and his men knew he was serious. "You can always say he tried to escape and jumped out to avoid returning to England. I'll back you up." The guards laughed as the tension eased considerably. Hogan then looked at his men. "Let's go, fellas. We have a roll call to get ready for."

The team exited the plane after bidding goodbye to the guards. But as Hogan stood in the opening preparing to leave, he heard his name called, and looked back.

"Colonel, just out of curiosity, what did this guy do?" It was the same Sergeant he had given the envelope to.

Hogan exhaled. "He's a traitor. That's all you need to know."

The Sergeant nodded. "And these other five, sir?"

"Assault on a superior officer with intent to commit murder. Now, any more questions?" Hogan's tone told the Sergeant he wasn't going to get any additional information from the officer.

"No sir." He saluted the Colonel who returned it, then turned and walked down the ramp.

Outside, Hogan and his men stood a safe distance away and watched the plane's propellers speed up and soon saw the plane lift and take off. Turning, they headed back to the truck with Hogan climbing in the front passenger seat and Carter behind the wheel; the others in the back.

"Keep to the back roads, Carter," Hogan instructed leaning his head back against the seat. "And step on it."