Chapter 17---A Race Against Time
Kinch and Newkirk shifted their positions as they waited for the Colonel to return with Guthrie. But they both had a similar feeling of dread. Newkirk looked at his watch.
"I don't know about you, Kinch, but I'm getting concerned."
"You and me both. Where Guthrie's concerned, I worry. I think we should go after the Colonel."
Newkirk looked at his friend. "But suppose the Gov'nor's on his way back here with the Major?"
"He can court-martial us both after the war," Kinch said grabbing the Englander's jacket sleeve. "C'mon." Together they stepped out into the compound somehow managing to avoid the searchlight. They hadn't gotten very far when a voice made them freeze.
"Halt! Who goes there?" The voice was familiar.
Looking around they instantly recognized the rotund figure of Schultz who was pointing his rifle at them. Squinting in the dim moonlight, it took two or three seconds before Schultz recognized Kinch and Newkirk and lowered his rifle. "What are you two doing outside? You know the rules. No prisoner is allowed outside the barracks after dark!" He pointed in the direction of barracks two. "Now back to the barracks. Back, back, back, back!"
"Schultz, we need your help," Kinch explained. "It's Colonel Hogan."
The guard laughed. "My help? Why would Colonel Hogan need my help? He is up to some monkey business. I don't want to know nothing! Noth-ing!" Pointing his rifle at them again he motioned for them to get moving. "Now back to the barracks! Let's go!"
"Colonel Hogan went to see Major Guthrie and hasn't come back and we're worried about him. We have to find him," Newkirk said.
Schultz suddenly saw the looks of concern on their faces. "Was ist los?" He asked lowering his rifle. His eyes suddenly widened. "You said he went to see Major Guthrie?"
"Yes," Newkirk repeated. "You gotta help us!"
"Let's go!" said Schultz as he followed the two in the direction of Guthrie's guest quarters. As the guest quarters came into sight, Kinch and Newkirk froze seeing a figure lying on his side on the ground.
"COLONEL!" Newkirk and Kinch shouted simultaneously and bolted forward with Schultz bringing up the rear, panting. The two men knelt beside their fallen commander and gently rolled him onto his back. They immediately heard the wheezing although Hogan was unconscious.
"He can't breathe!" Kinch said anxiously. "Newkirk, take Schultz and get Wilson! Tell him the Colonel can't breathe! Go!"
"On me way!" the Englander replied getting to his feet just as a stunned Schultz arrived. He grabbed the guard's arm. "C'mon, Schultzie, we gotta get Wilson! Colonel Hogan's in trouble!"
"Ja, Jawohl," Schultz stammered looking over his shoulder as he followed Newkirk who was running ahead of him.
Remaining with Hogan, Kinch half-cradled, half-held the Colonel in his lap. Sweat was beginning to run down Hogan's face as his wheezing became worse. Pressing two fingers against the Colonel's throat, Kinch became more concerned. Hogan's pulse was erratic. "C'mon, Colonel, hang on," the radioman said softly trying to keep his voice steady and reassuring. "Stay with us. We've got you now and we're going to take care of you. Just hang on." Looking around for some indication someone was coming, Kinch became scared help wasn't going to arrive before it was too late. He carefully shifted the Colonel's head in his lap and suddenly felt a raised lump on the back of his head. Did he get that lump when he hit the ground? Or did somebody hit him? Wilson would know. Kinch gently wiped the perspiration from Hogan's face with a hand and it was quickly replaced with more. Then hearing shouts, he looked up to see Wilson racing toward him with Newkirk trailing behind and an out-of-breath Schultz trying to catch up.
Wilson dropped to his knees and rummaging through his medical bag, pulled out a syringe. "Newkirk told me what happened," was all he said as he pushed up the Colonel's jacket and shirtsleeves and inserting the needle into the Colonel's arm, injected its contents. "I just hope I got here in time with the epinephrine."(1)
"He's got a lump on the back of his head as well, Joe," Kinch explained.
"I'll check it out after we get him breathing easier." Within seconds, Hogan's breathing eased as the wheezing lessened. "Epinephrine works very quickly on anaphylactic shock," the medic said as Newkirk and a panting Schultz joined them. Wilson pressed two fingers against Hogan's throat. "His pulse isn't good. We have to get him to the infirmary so I can examine him thoroughly and check out anymore injuries. Kinch…." He looked up at the radioman.
"I'm on it," was Kinch's reply as he scooped Hogan up gently into his arms and cradled him. Newkirk picked up the Colonel's crush cap and then followed Wilson in the direction of the infirmary with Schultz following, unaware a pair of eyes were watching everything from deep in the shadows.
In the barracks, Carter and LeBeau sat at the table, both unable to sleep until their friends and commander were back safe. The lights were off in the barracks but the moonlight was coming through the unshuttered windows offering enough light into the barracks for the two to see each other at least. LeBeau poured them both half a cup of warm left-over coffee.
"I don't like Colonel Hogan going out to meet with that Major Guthrie after what he's done to the Colonel already," said Carter, concern heard in his voice.
"Neither do I," the little Frenchman agreed. He took a drink of coffee. "I just wish I didn't have this feeling something is wrong."
"I know what you mean," said Carter. "But if something is wrong, the Colonel, Newkirk and Kinch can handle it."
"Oui, I'm sure you are right, mon ami. There's probably nothing to worry about and it's just my imagination." He forced a grin on his face and took a drink of coffee.
Carter thought for a moment as he looked in his friend's eyes. "Then why do you still look as worried as I am?" he asked.
Entering the infirmary, Kinch carefully laid the still unconscious Hogan on a nearby bed; Newkirk and Schultz standing out of the way but nearby watching. Since the wheezing had returned en-route to the infirmary, as soon as they got Hogan settled, Wilson immediately gave the Colonel a second injection of epinephrine and seconds later the wheezing and breathing eased. As Wilson listened to Hogan's heart with his stethoscope, he sighed in relief. "His pulse is improving. Kinch, help me get him undressed. How has the Colonel been feeling lately? Has anybody noticed whether he's been ill or something were wrong with him?"
"The Colonel's been fine except for the injuries you've treated," Kinch said helping the medic undress the Colonel.
"The only thing I know Colonel Hogan is allergic to is a bee sting," Wilson explained. "But he wouldn't have this severe of an allergic reaction from a single bee sting. Plus, there are no bees this time of the year."
"What are you getting at, Joe?" asked Newkirk suspicious of what the medic was possibly alluding to.
"Look at this," Wilson said as he examined Hogan's right forearm. There were three puncture marks. "These two punctures are from the injections I just gave him. But where did this third one come from?" he asked pointing to the one below the side by side injection sites.
"I have a pretty good idea," Newkirk muttered his anger building.
Kinch looked at Wilson who could see anger in the radioman's eyes. "Joe, what are you saying?" his voice was tight.
"It could be any number of things, but if I were a betting man, I'd say somebody may have injected him with something which caused anaphylactic shock. If he hadn't been found as quickly as he was he would have died. Kinch, stay with the Colonel for a few minutes, I have to get an IV started. He's got to be kept hydrated." Wilson walked away while Kinch sat down on the edge of the bed looking at his unconscious commanding officer. He brushed a few loose strands of dark hair off Hogan's forehead. Newkirk moved closer and sat down on the bed opposite Kinch.
"That bloody Gestapo bastard!" He muttered loud enough for Kinch to hear. "He's gonna pay for this big time."
"He'll never get close to the Colonel again," Kinch said. "I wouldn't care if he had an entire battalion with him." They both looked up when Wilson returned with the IV bottle and its accessories.
"Newkirk, get a basin of cool water and a clean cloth and bathe the Colonel's face, would you?" asked Wilson.
"Right," said the Englander getting up. As soon as Newkirk was out of the way, Wilson stood beside the bed and hung the IV bottle from a nail in the wall above before inserting the needle into Hogan's arm. He then carefully slid his hand beneath Hogan's head and felt the raised lump. He sighed. "I don't think he got that lump from hitting the ground, Kinch. It feels like the kind of raised lump a person gets when he's been hit with something. I don't think there's any fracture."
Fighting to control his temper believing Hogan had not only been hit from behind, but then injected with bee venom deliberately, Kinch got up and moved out of the way to allow Newkirk space with the basin. He saw the look of equal anger on Newkirk's face as well. Sitting down on the bed, the Englander soaked the cloth in the cool water, wrung it out, and gently wiped the Colonel's face. As he did so, he looked up at Wilson. "Joe, why's the Gov'nor still unconscious? Shouldn't he be comin' around by now?"
"He will eventually providing there are no complications. He's unconscious from a combination of being hit and his throat constricting; but he should be all right." It was then the medic became aware that Schultz was still present. He noticed the obese guard had a worried expression on his face as he kept his eyes on Hogan like a father would a stricken child.
"Schultz, you all right?" Wilson asked.
Nodding slowly, Schultz took a few steps closer to the bed. "Sergeant Wilson, is Colonel Hogan really going to be all right?"
"He should be fine, Schultz. I promise. You can sit with him if you'd like."
The guard's face brightened. "Can I?" he asked with a smile.
"Sure you can. But only for a few minutes. He needs his rest."
Newkirk slowly got up. "Have a seat, Schultzie," he said moving out of the way to make room for the obese guard. He, Kinch, and Wilson watched as Schultz slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving Hogan's face. He leaned his rifle against the night table.
Schultz was deeply worried about Colonel Hogan's condition; had been since he was found unconscious lying in the compound. He worried about all of the men in barracks two. They were his boys; but more than that, they were, to him anyway, his friends despite the 'monkey business' he was aware they were doing. Reaching out a plump hand, the guard moved aside some stray dark hairs from Hogan's forehead. He looked up when he heard footsteps approaching and saw Wilson standing close by.
"Can't I stay a little while longer?" the guard asked sadly.
Wilson patted the guard's shoulder. "Sorry Schultz, but Colonel Hogan needs his rest." Just then, Hogan started wheezing again. Wilson hurried to his medicine cabinet and quickly prepared another injection. He squeezed past Schultz who stood beside the bed wide-eyed as if he thought he had done something wrong. He watched as Wilson gave the injection to Hogan. In a few seconds the Colonel's breathing again eased. The medic looked at Schultz. "You didn't do anything, Schultz, so don't look so worried. However, I suggest you inform Colonel Klink of Colonel Hogan's situation and that he'll be in the infirmary for a few days. I can't leave right now as the Colonel can't be left alone. I'll speak to Klink tomorrow when Sergeant Paul Anderson reports to the infirmary and relieves me."
Guthrie turned on the lamp in his bedroom after returning to the guest cottage. He was panicked right now. He hadn't expected Hogan to have the severe allergic reaction to the bee venom that he did. That wasn't how the others reacted to the injections when he gave them.
He had taken all day to think about, plan what he was going to do, and how to carry it out. After having been informed that Hogan was going to be coming to his guest quarters tonight to lure him outside, he assumed the American was possibly going to try to do away with him. So, using cushions to give the appearance he was in bed, then turning out the lights making it look like he was asleep, Guthrie left the guest cottage, and hid in the shadows near the building to wait for Hogan to show. He made sure he had the venom-filled syringe, a vial of epinephrine, and a spare syringe in his pocket. Then he saw Hogan heading his way, keeping to the shadows.
As Hogan got closer, Guthrie kept moving around never letting Hogan out of his sight. He saw Hogan look through the window and, thinking he was asleep inside, started back to barracks two. That was when he made his move by sneaking up quickly behind the American and hitting him with the butt end of his weapon.
As Hogan lay semi-conscious on the ground, Guthrie injected him with the bee venom. He had planned to remain with Hogan and get him to agree to help him with a promise of giving him the antidote of epinephrine to relieve his symptoms of pain, swelling, redness and itching which was all the others had suffered with. But he did not expect Hogan to go into anaphylactic shock as he did; and feared he would die. Guthrie reached into his pocket for the vial of epinephrine preparing to give him an injection when he heard voices and decided it would be better if he wasn't found with the Colonel so, he ran and hid in the shadows where he could watch and listen. He knew if Hogan died, he would be in trouble with Major Hochstetter and others. But all he could do right now was wait and see what happened and if Hogan would survive.
Newkirk opened the barracks door and stormed inside mumbling under his breath, slamming the door so loudly behind him that it rattled the walls and awakened most of the prisoners asleep in the barracks. Carter and LeBeau glanced at each other momentarily.
"Hey, who's making all the noise?" asked a sleepy Olsen rubbing his eyes.
"Go sod off!" Newkirk hissed to the Sergeant. The Englander sat down on Carter's bunk, wringing his cover in his hands, the anger on his face.
"What the hell's your problem?" Olsen asked.
LeBeau shushed Olsen and turned around on the bench looking at the Englander. "Pierre, where are Kinch and the Colonel?"
Newkirk looked up, eyes ablaze. "Kinch is with Schultz and Colonel Hogan's in the infirmary."
"WHAT?" LeBeau and Carter shouted simultaneously. The other prisoners stirred and Olsen jumped down from his upper bunk. They all gathered around Newkirk.
"What happened?" asked Carter.
"That lousy bastard hit the Gov'nor from behind, injected him with who knows what, and then left him lying in the compound unconscious. By the time we found 'im he could barely breathe. That's what happened, Andrew." There were grumblings among the other prisoners at the news.
"Mon Dieu!" LeBeau exclaimed angrily. "Colonel Hogan is only allergic to bee venom."
"I know," the Englander replied as he slowly got to his feet and sat down wearily on the bench at the table. "But Wilson's not certain that's what it was. Fortunately, Kinch and me ran into Schultz after we decided to go look for the Colonel. Louie, he was wheezing so bad I thought we were gonna lose him right there." There was a tremble to his voice as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He blinked away the tears. He refused to allow himself to cry; he was too angry anyway. He swallowed hard. "Anyway, Kinch stayed with 'im and me and Schultz went and fetched Wilson. He gave the Gov'nor a shot which seemed to relieve the wheezing and let 'im breathe easier."
"Will he be all right?" somebody asked.
"Wilson says he will, but he'll stay in the infirmary for a few days," Newkirk explained.
"You said Kinch is with Schultz?" Olsen asked, his face reddening with anger.
"Yeah. He and Schultzie went to report what happened to Klink. Wilson wasn't able to go so Kinch went instead." Newkirk ran a hand over his brown hair. "I'm tellin' you, LeBeau, that bloody bastard has got to go and I mean permanently."
There were murmurs and nods of agreements. Olsen immediately motioned for quiet.
"Wait a minute," he said and then looked at the Englander. "Are you talking about killing a Gestapo agent who may be an underground operative?"
Newkirk looked up. "I don't care what he is, mate. He tried to kill the Gov'nor this time. He's been after 'im since he got here. I say we get rid of 'im, the sooner the better."
"Pierre, you know how Colonel Hogan feels about cold-blooded murder. He has said it many times that we are not like the Krauts; we do not kill intentionally except in self-defense or to protect one another. Of course innocent people sometimes get caught up in what we do and that is unfortunate, but can't be helped. But Colonel Hogan would not approve of us wantonly going after someone with the intent to commit murder without his approval no matter what. You know that as do we all."
Newkirk rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, if anybody deserves killin' it's Guthrie."
"No argument there," LeBeau agreed folding his arms wearing a scowl on his face.
It was then Newkirk and LeBeau noticed the puzzled look on Carter's face.
"What's troubling you, Andrew?" asked Newkirk. "The Colonel's gonna be all right."
"That's not what's bothering me," the young Sergeant replied. "I mean, it worries me that Colonel Hogan got hurt and I know he'll be all right."
"Then what is it?" asked LeBeau.
"Well, Newkirk said Major Guthrie struck the Colonel from behind and then injected him with bee venom…"
"What's your bleedin' point, Andrew?" asked an exasperated Newkirk.
"My point is, how was Major Guthrie able to attack Colonel Hogan to begin with? I mean, we discussed getting him out of the guest quarters so you and Kinch could plant the bug outside after roll call. So how did Guthrie know that Colonel Hogan was coming to his quarters to begin with?"
Newkirk and LeBeau exchanged looks between themselves and then with the other prisoners. There was silence as the implications of what Carter said became evident.
"That means somebody alerted Guthrie that Colonel Hogan was coming and he set a trap for him," LeBeau said worriedly.
"It means more than that, LeBeau," Newkirk replied looking around the room. "We were the only ones outside after roll call in addition to other prisoners from this barracks. That means we may either have a traitor in our midst, or this place is bugged."
(1) Epinephrine, also called adrenaline, is the drug of choice for treating anaphylaxis. It was first synthesized in the laboratory by Friedrich Stolz and Henry Drysdale Dakin, independently, in 1904. Epinephrine narrows blood vessels and opens airways in the lungs, reversing the symptoms of an allergic reaction. It also raises the heart rate. Courtesy of Wikipedia.