Chapter 49

Hogan stared at Kinch trying to maintain his command face despite the throbbing he felt in the still tender area. "What are you talking about, Sergeant? Wylie didn't injure me in any way. All he did was land on areas that were already sore from being shot."

Kinch knew the Colonel never addressed any of his men by their rank unless he was angry, but Kinch was standing firm on this. If Hogan was further injured from the Captain landing on an already injured area and with shackles which were heavy, he could have at least a cracked rib if not a broken one. "Sir, all I'm saying is that you should let Wilson check you out again just to be certain there's nothing wrong. That's all I'm saying."

Hogan let out a deep breath, and failed to hide the grimace on his face."Kinch, you are my best friend, but you're pushing it, and I don't like being pushed, and you of all people should know that."

"Colonel, maybe you don't know you've been injured," Kinch said hoping this was the case but somehow doubting it. "All I'm saying is just humor me by letting Wilson…"

"Sergeant, you're dismissed!" Hogan interrupted in his command voice indicating the discussion was over. But the radioman was willing to jeopardize the friendship they had as long as his commanding officer was all right. Hogan needed to be checked out, and Kinch knew he'd have to go about things a different way to make it happen.

"Fine," Kinch replied coolly. "But begging the Colonel's pardon, and I have to say this. I understand you have a serious concern that could lead to us having to shut down and evacuate. But if you have a broken rib, it could puncture a lung and you'd be in serious trouble. And if that's the case, where does that leave us?" He knew he was risking insubordination, but right now the radioman didn't care. He knew Hogan could be so stubborn when he himself was injured and often hide his injuries not wanting his men to be concerned or distracted.

"Sergeant, you are really trying my patience!" Hogan hissed trying to mask the pain he still felt when he took a breath. "How dare you indicate I'm being selfish. I suggest you return to your work in the tunnel before I forget we're friends."

Kinch shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Colonel," he said. "It's just that if we didn't care about you I wouldn't be pushing you to get checked out." He saw Hogan open his mouth to respond and held up a hand. "I'm going." Kinch left letting the door slam shut behind him. Alone, Hogan glanced at the closed door. He felt badly for raising his voice at his best friend, but he had no time to be confined to either the infirmary or his quarters. There was too much to do. He had an evacuation of over one thousand men to prepare for while worrying how long to wait before shutting down his operation. And finally, how long before the Gestapo arrived at camp to arrest him and his team. No, Hogan thought, there was no time for him to be incapacitated.

Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter found themselves staring when they heard the door of the Colonel's quarters slam shut. Kinch stood just outside the closed door shaking his head, and rubbed the back of his neck as he walked towards the others and sat down at the table. He gratefully accepted the coffee cup Newkirk handed him, took a drink savoring the hot beverage, trying to calm down, and then shook his head regretfully. He finally looked at the others who were eying him waiting.

"Carter, go get Wilson. Tell him the Colonel's been hurt. It's possible he may be hiding a rib injury from when Wylie jumped on him," Kinch said. He saw the others exchange concerned looks at first, then, without saying a word, Carter got to his feet and hurried out of the barracks to find the camp medic.

"What happened, mon ami, between you and the Colonel?" LeBeau asked worriedly. "We heard raised voices."

Kinch inhaled and exhaled through his mouth. "I lost my temper and shouldn't have. But sometimes Colonel Hogan can be so stubborn it's enough to drive someone crazy." He took another drink of coffee. "You didn't see his face. I think I might have driven a wedge between the two of us."

"Oui, we know how stubborn he can be," LeBeau said grimly. "But that is only because he doesn't want us to worry about him. Do not worry, mon ami, he will not stay angry with you for long. He knows you lost your temper only because you care about him as do we all."

"How do you know the Gov'nor has a rib injury?" asked Newkirk as he took out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, removed one, and stuck one between his lips. He then lit it.

Kinch sighed. "He and I were talking, and as I was leaving, he turned away, bumped into his desk, and hissed in pain grabbing the area. I saw him rub around the lower rib area. I got the feeling he's got a new injury from when he was hit by Wylie, but he vehemently denied it. Also, his breathing doesn't sound normal."

Newkirk and LeBeau exchanged concerned looks. "Here's hoping the Colonel didn't fracture a rib and it caused damage inside," said Newkirk.

"Oui. It would be just another insult from that batard," LeBeau growled.

The door of the barracks opened and Carter, out of breath, walked in followed by camp medic, Joe Wilson, who was carrying his medic's bag.

"Carter told me what happened at the rendezvous place last night." His eyes focused on the radioman. "Kinch, what makes you think the Colonel may have a new injury?" Carter and Wilson listened as Kinch reiterated the story he told Newkirk and LeBeau leaving out the part about the possible evacuation. He saw Wilson sigh.

"He could. But I can't be certain until after I examine him," Wilson said before heading in the direction of the smaller room.

Hogan was again sitting at his desk going over the map, planning an escape route in the event of an evacuation when he heard knocking on his door. Sighing with exasperation, he laid down his pen. "Come in," he ordered having an idea already who it would be. The door opened and Wilson walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Somehow I knew it would be you, Joe," Hogan said calmly.

"I won't even ask how you knew because I think I know," the medic replied laying his bag on Hogan's footlocker. "Colonel, I need to check you over just to make sure you're all right after last night."

"Look, I know the men are concerned and I appreciate the fact they're worried. But I'm fine. Really. Wylie just hit in an area where I already had bruises from being shot that's all. Besides, you've already seen my bruises."

"I'm talking about any new bruises you may have after Wylie jumped on your chest," Wilson said folding his arms across his chest. When he had to, the medic could match Hogan's authoritative look, especially when the Colonel's health was involved.

"Joe, I have things to do and don't have time to put up with this. So if you don't mind…"

Wilson stared at his commanding officer and held firm. "You will make time," he said in a tone even Hogan didn't recognize. "Colonel, when it comes to the health of the men in this camp, and it's commanding officer, I outrank even your eagles." He saw Hogan preparing to argue and held up a hand stopping him. "If you continue to argue with me, I'll have no choice but to go to Kommandant Klink and tell him his Senior POW officer his hiding a possible serious injury and is refusing treatment. I'm sure he'll have you confined to the infirmary and examined."

Hogan eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!" he snapped.

"Try me," Wilson told him. "Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's up to you, sir. And I don't care if it costs our friendship either."

Feeling he wasn't going to win this argument, an annoyed Hogan inhaled and exhaled through his nose as he slowly unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto the lower bunk, before he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. Wilson noticed the grimace on the Colonel's face as he did so. Hogan then sat down on the bunk under the stare of the medic.

Wilson held his breath at the mass of ugly blackish-purple bruises from where Hogan had been shot, but those weren't what caught his immediate attention. It was the two new discolorations; one where his lower ribs were, and the other where the middle ribs were. They already looked ugly, Wilson mused as he gently touched one of them. Hogan hissed and clenched his teeth in pain, and Wilson felt the Colonel stiffen when he touched both of them.

"Colonel, I don't believe you have broken ribs, but definitely two cracked ones." He rummaged through his medical bag. "I don't have to tell you how painful cracked ribs can be. He began to wrap Hogan's upper body to protect the ribs. Once finished, Wilson gave the Colonel an injection of a painkiller, then handed him a bottle of aspirin. "Take two of these in four hours, and then every four hours thereafter. I also recommend you place ice packs on the newly injured areas to help reduce the swelling. You'll also have to stay off your feet as much as possible until the ribs heal." Hogan opened his mouth and Wilson held up a hand. "But I suspect that's not going to happen because of whatever is going on, so, I just ask that you rest as much as you can and try to take it easy whenever you can. You have men who will follow you into hell and back. Take advantage of them and let them help instead of trying to do everything yourself." He helped Hogan put on his shirt, and then his jacket.

"Thanks, Joe," Hogan rested a hand against his chest. The pain was now a dull ache. He looked at Wilson as he replaced items in his bag as he prepared to leave.

"I'll check on you again later today, sir. If you need anything before then, have one of the men come and get me." He started towards the door.

"I will. Oh, one thing before you go. Could you have Kinch report to me?"

"Sure thing, sir."

It was nearly five minutes after Wilson left before the door opened and Kinch looked in.

"Wilson said you wanted to see me, Colonel."

Hogan exhaled as he stared at his second-in-command. "You can come in. I don't bite. I promise." He watched the radioman slowly enter and close the door. Kinch stood in front of the door at parade rest, hesitant of getting any closer.

Hogan shook his head sadly. "Kinch, I just wanted to apologize to you for going off like I did. It was inexcusable. I hope you'll forgive me."

Kinch's expression didn't change, and for a few moments, Hogan began to think Kinch wouldn't forgive his earlier outburst, and didn't know what he would do if that were to happen. Suddenly he saw the corners of Kinch's mouth curl upward slightly.

"Nothing to forgive, Colonel. Except for the cracked ribs, I just glad you're okay."

Hogan allowed a small grin to appear. "So we're all right?"

Kinch smiled. "Yes, sir. We're fine."

Captain Wylie, seated on a cot attached to a wall, glanced around the cell he had been locked in since his arrival last night. He studied the sink and the toilet on the opposite side of the cell, and the iron door with a sliding window. "It wasn't fair," Wylie told himself. "Hogan should be sitting a cell like this in Gestapo headquarters, or lying in a mass grave with the bodies of other traitors of the Third Reich.

With forearms on his thighs, he rubbed his hands together as he thought about that Colonel Sheppard and some Intelligence officer who's name he couldn't remember, who twice came into his cell to interrogate him. He refused to answer any of their questions, and forced them to leave empty-handed. He could still see the men's faces turning beet red with frustration and chuckled. He would tell these men nothing until he was able to make contact with an underground member; and then, he would pass on what information he had about the tunnels Hogan had under Stalag 13, as well as his connection with the local underground as soon-as-possible. Then he would relish imagining Hogan in front of a firing squad. But knowing who he could trust was the problem. All he knew from Aloisia when he was in England was a name, Colonel Erik Wagner, was working undercover in Allied headquarters, but she didn't know what name he was going by there. She had passed onto him that if he ever should find himself in Allied headquarters in England, he should make contact with Wagner who would get him out.

Aloisia. He wondered where and how she was. He couldn't wait to see her again. He was positive Hogan had been lying when he said she was not only married to a man named Schindler, but that she had been arrested as well; possibly even executed. He chuckled. Hogan was doing what he was always doing, and that was trying to get under his skin and rattle him. But Wylie knew he would have the last laugh. He would meet this Colonel Wagner and first pass on the information about Hogan, and make sure it was passed onto Hochstetter; and then, he would wait for Wagner to free him so he could be reunited with his lady love.

The sound of the small window being briefly slid open caught his attention. Wylie didn't get much of a look at who it was before the window slid shut again, and then there was the sound of the iron door opening. Curious, the Captain looked up from his place on his bunk to see a balding Colonel with a pencil-thin mustache enter; his name tag read 'Wembley.' Wylie immediately eyed the man with suspicion and mistrust.

"Close the door and leave us," the Colonel ordered the guard and exchanged a salute. "I'll signal you when I need you." With that, the door clanged shut leaving Wembley and Wylie alone. Wylie looked his visitor up and down. Then, returning the Captain's stare, Wembley approached the prisoner warily. The information he had received from Hogan indicated that Wylie was an intelligent man, but that Aloisia Schindler nee Braun, was his weak spot and that one should proceed carefully. "Aloisia schickte mir Sie raus," he said.

Wylie's eyes narrowed. "How do you know Aloisia?" he asked with a tilt of his head, eyes narrowed.

"Keep your voice down, Captain. I am Colonel Wagner, German underground. But I am known here as Colonel Wembley. I had to pull a lot of strings to be allowed in here as nobody is allowed in here but Colonel Sheppard. We can't take any chances." Turning towards the door, Wembley slid open the small window and glanced around; satisfied, he shut it and turned back to Wylie. "Aloisia's in hiding and I cannot disclose her location even to you right now. It's for her protection. The Allies are searching for her everywhere. All I can tell you right now is that she is safe and waiting for you."

Wylie continued staring at Wembley, uncertain. "I don't believe you," he finally said. "If you really know her, then bring me proof."

"What kind of proof?" Wembley asked maintaining a neutral face.

Wylie smirked. "She'll send something to let me know." He leaned back on the cot, crossed his legs, and folded his arms across his chest.

Wembley nodded. "I understand, Captain. Neither of us can afford to be careless, especially in here. So it may take me a day so try to be patient." Not waiting for an answer, Wembley went back to the door and rapped on it. The door opened and Wembley exited, with the door closing with a clang behind him.

After dismissing the guard, Wembley proceeded on his own to a room several doors away from the solitary cells, and went inside where he found Colonel Sheppard and the Intelligence officer seated at a table on which rested a tape recorder. The Intelligence officer shut it off. Both men looked up at Wembley waiting.

"He doesn't seem to be any more talkative with you than with us," the Intelligence officer said letting out a deep breath. "Are you sure this plan of General Butler's is going to work?"

"It'll work," Wembley assured the younger man. "And it's not the General's plan. It is Colonel Hogan's. He suggested that somebody separate from me should visit Wylie first, and have me approach the man later alone pretending to be a German underground operative named Ernst Wagner whom we arrested during that Freitag mess."

Sheppard chuckled. "I say, that was one ruddy mess if I do say so myself. I also think it's a brilliant idea of Hogan's to keep everybody away from this Wylie as a way of preventing any chance of a slip-up. But tell me, Colonel, what kind of proof are you going to present to Captain Wylie to convince him you're with the underground and to start talking?"

Reaching inside his jacket pocket, Wembley removed a folded envelope and unfolded it. He handed it to Sheppard who, after unfolding it, removed the single sheet of folded paper inside, and studied the handwriting and the signature.

"I say, old man, this is a copy of a letter written to this Wylie by Aloisia. Wherever did you get it?"

"I made a copy of one of the letters from her file. It was used along with others during her trial for treason." He inserted the letter back into the envelope and handed it back to Wembley.

"If memory serves," said the Intelligence agent. "Wasn't this Aloisia executed?"

"She was," Wembley replied. "About three months ago."

The Intelligence agent was confused. "Then I don't understand, old man. How is this letter going to get Wylie to start talking?"

"It's simple," said Wembley. "I know someone who an expert forger who occasionally does jobs for us. I will have him write a letter signed by Aloisia requesting that the good Captain cooperate with Ernst Wagner to save the members of other German underground operatives. I merely wanted a sample of the woman's handwriting for the forger. And these recordings you're making of Wylie's interviews will be used at his trial for treason and other charges."

Sheppard smirked. "As I said, brilliant idea. Just how is Hogan making out during all this anyway?"

Wembley exhaled deeply. "He's had a bit of a rough go, but came through it. An operative is handling the Gestapo end of things, and this is the only thing still a danger to Hogan's operation. If we fail, gentlemen, Hogan will have very little time to close down his operation and will be hard pressed to evacuate over one thousand men from Stalag 13." Wembley checked his watch. "I'd best get going and make contact with that forger so I can speak with Wylie again in the morning."

The next morning, Wembley returned to Wylie's cell and found this time the Captain wasn't as hostile towards him, but still remained wary.

Reaching inside his jacket pocket, the Colonel pulled out a sealed envelope and handed it to the Captain who, after taking it from him, stared at the familiar handwriting.

"I hope this is proof enough for you, Captain?" asked Wembley with a small smile.

Taking the envelope from the Colonel, Wylie hastily ripped it open, and removed a single sheet of folded paper. Unfolding it, he proceeded to read it carefully.

'My Dearest Leonard…

I am so sorry to be contacting you this way, but Ernst thought it safest for me since I am in hiding. The Allies are searching for me everywhere. I'm afraid if they find me, I will be shot on site. I am so afraid my darling. Ernst told me you are suspicious of him. Let me assure you he has my complete trust and you are to cooperate with him in every way possible.

I am also sad to say that the Colonel Hogan you told me of was responsible for breaking up our underground group, and I was extremely fortunate to escape with my life thanks to Ernst. That is why I am hiding. That same Colonel Hogan has probably told you I have either been arrested or may even be dead. But you must not believe him, my darling. I am impatiently waiting for the day I can again hold you in my arms. Your Colonel Hogan is also, I understand, trying to break up other underground groups and we cannot allow this. So please tell Ernst whatever he wishes to know. I am counting on you to help save our brothers and sisters from the likes of this Colonel Hogan and his kind.

I miss you so much. Ernst promises me he will do everything he can to free you. Until we meet again.

All My Love,

Aloisia.'

Wylie pressed the letter to his chest and exhaled deeply. Then, he refolded the letter in stuck it back in the envelope it came in. Then he exhaled deeply and looked up at Wembley. "Hogan lied to me. I knew it! I just knew he was a liar!"

"He told you Aloisia was dead, didn't he?" Wembley inquired.

"He did. He also told me my Aloisia was married to someone named Schindler." Wylie saw Wembley laugh.

"What's so funny, Colonel?" Wylie asked, annoyed.

"This Colonel Hogan. It's obvious he was playing you for a fool. Aloisia has never been married," Wembley lied. "But from what she tells me, she is looking forward to marrying you. He saw a relaxed look on Wylie's face and suspected the man was ready to start talking.

"Aloisia says I can trust you." Wylie said. "So, what do you want to know?" he asked the Colonel.

Wembley sat down beside the Captain and removed a small notebook from his inside jacket pocket along with a pen. "Well, since Aloisia mentioned this Hogan is trying to break up other German underground groups here in England, is there anybody else we need to get in touch with so we can warn them?" he asked feigning concern knowing it wouldn't take long to round everyone else up.