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5. Present fears are less than horrible imaginings

"Newkirk! Wake up," Kinch shook his shoulder. He disguised his look of concern with a quick smile. "Quite a bad dream, eh? Here, let me help you."

"No," Newkirk said. "I'm all right. Just give me a minute." He got up and steadied himself as fast as he could. He looked around for evidence of what he had just experienced but there was nothing left; only the pounding fear in his chest.

Kinch watched him attentively but did not touch him. He walked to the window. "I think we're ready."

"How is it going?"

"Three cars, over half a dozen people, mostly uniformed, big medals, a couple of skirts..." Kinch said. "Big success for the kommandant, eh?"

"Big success for the rest of the Stalags that didn't have to throw this ruddy party." Newkirk stretched. He had finally regained control of his voice and stopped shaking. "That Burckhalter likes LeBeau's French cuisine, I guess."

"Yeah, that must be it." Kinch turned. "You'd better go and get your things. We have to move."

Newkirk nodded and followed him out of the office. He would try to put everything behind and concentrate on the mission.

()o()o()

Hogan sat in one corner, studying the guests as they arrived. Klink was too busy trying to please General Burckhalter to pay attention to anything else. On the other hand, the guests were too busy with the food and the drinks to pay any attention to Klink.

The general disliked Klink, although Stalag XIII facilities were by far the best among the prison camps. He would not miss the opportunity to gather his friends here at Kommandant Klink's expenses.

"You're a success, LeBeau. The trays get emptied only seconds after I enter the room." Carter went back to the kitchen and sat down for a minute. "Just like Schultz here, but faster."

"Jolly joker. I only had a small drink in town, I'm starving." Schultz tasted the cake and cut one slice for himself. "Everybody was so weird and jumpy... They say that there are evil creatures on the lose tonight..." his voice took on a solemn note when he saw Carter and LeBeau enraptured in his story. "I saw one in the middle of the road on my way back here... Johann, the shoemaker's son... He asked me for a ride, I almost stopped. When I got closer, I realized that he was..."

"Dead!" Hogan's voice preceded him into the kitchen. Carter, LeBeau and Schultz jumped. "This party is completely dead." He sat and took an ordure.

"At least, you can be out there." LeBeau went back to the stove. "I haven't moved from here since we came."

"I'm off. Schultz take me back to the barrack." Hogan put on his coat and led the way. "You, guys don't stay up too long."

Carter had to run after Schultz to give him his rifle and take the bottle of wine off his hand. "You come back for it later," he smiled.

Hogan and Schultz crossed the yard with several guards staring at them. There was one that got the sergeant's attention immediately. He stopped on the spot as he thought the guard's eyes glowed in the dark.

"What is it, Schultz? Did you see a ghost?"

"Very close," said he in a whisper. He resumed his walk. "I saw that man at the Hofbräuhaus this afternoon. He left with Annie and no one has seen her since then."

"Who's Annie?" Hogan squinted. The young officer stared at them for a few minutes. "And what's so strange about that? He looks like a regular guy to me," Hogan said.

"He was not in uniform back then. He didn't look like a soldier at all. I think I heard him speak English."

"He could've been on his afternoon off." The colonel entered the barrack and peered through the window until Schultz was far enough. "Are you ready?" he asked Kinch and Newkirk behind him. "Walk in the shadows, and be careful with the guards. Pay special attention to the one by Burckhalter's car. He looks suspicious."

()o()o()

Spike strolled around, watching the guests' arrival to the party. He would salute once in a while, just to justify the Gestapo lieutenant's uniform he was wearing. The night was dark and windy, perfect for an outing with his girlfriend. He cursed Captain Grunwald for imprisoning her and cursed himself for not being able to get her out. He did not care much about what Grunwald did with the relic; as long as he could take Drusilla out of the road of destruction.

One of the barracks opened and two men sneaked outside. Kinch turned once in a while to watch Newkirk, who walked behind him. They crossed the yard without problems. Newkirk only stumbled once but he managed to stay on his feet. The two-step stair to Klink's office should not represent a challenge but Kinch did not count on so much luck. The corporal miscalculated the last step and fell over Kinch.

"Sorry," he whispered as he helped the sergeant to his feet.

"Shh!" Kinch turned to see if any of the guards had paid attention to the noise. Everybody seemed more interested on what was going on at Klink's house. "Come on, open the door."

At that moment, the wind began to blow violently. The trees around the camp creaked and groaned while the leaves whirled in the air. Kinch adjusted the collar of his jacket as he wondered where the storm had come from. Spike did the same and squinted to have a better look at what was going on at the office porch.

Newkirk crouched and took out his lock picks. He turned them in his fingers for a couple of seconds and he heard a crack. He felt on his butt as the inconceivable had just happened. "It broke."

Kinch crouched next to him. "What?" Yelling in whispers was hard, but he had some experience with that.

Newkirk's eyes were wide open with surprise and anger. "The bloody thing just broke. Right in me fingers!"

Kinch looked around, keeping the lookout. "Can you fix it? Can you open the door at all?"

"Sure, but it br-"

"Newkirk! I heard you. Just open the damn door." Kinch hated pulling his rank on his friends. They were usually excellent soldiers but Newkirk's attitude was starting to get on his nerves.

Newkirk sat up and nodded. "Give me two seconds."

"Just do it!"

Newkirk took another pick, handling it as though it were made of glass. It took him twice his usual time but the lock finally gave in.

Kinch pulled Newkirk off the floor and did not let him go. "Don't touch anything." He pushed him inside.

()o()o()

Spike got tired of playing the guard and decided to have a snack. He walked to the gates where the lights did not hit. The dogs began to bark as soon as he passed by their houses. So much noise did not bother him at all. He sat on the barb wire on top of the gates and waited for the two guards on the perimeter to arrive at that corner. The attack was clean and fast, just before they turned and walked away. The barking suffocated the little noise he made.

He dragged the bodies away and went back to the yard. The wind blew with the strength of a hurricane and Spike felt that he was not the only unearthly creature around. He would stay close for a little longer just to make sure he was not missing anything important.

()o()o()

Kinch exhaled with relief when the door to Klink's office opened without opposing much resistance. Newkirk looked quite surprised too.

The sergeant stayed by the door and watched the window while Newkirk got ready with his tools. Nothing seemed to go wrong until he put the stethoscope in his ears and touched the safe box dial with his right hand.

His fingers perceived immediately an increase n the temperature. With all the odd things he had been experiencing, Newkirk tried to ignore this one yet. However, as the seconds went by, the heat became more and more intense to the point when his skin began to break.

Newkirk jumped backwards, holding his hand against his chest and clenching his teeth to suppress a scream. Kinch came quickly to his side.

"What happened?"

Newkirk shook his head and showed him his right hand. "That ruddy thing is on fire, mate!"

Kinch examined Newkirk's hand with his flashlight. There were blisters in his palm and the tip of his fingers had lost part of the skin. "This looks bad," he said. He turned the light to the safe, wondering what strange mechanism could be triggering such a security system. It was not plugged to anything. He came closer and licked two fingers before touching the box.

"Watch out!" Newkirk whispered.

Kinch tested the box but it was normal; cooler than room temperature as it was supposed to be. "There's nothing wrong with this thing. It's fine." He put his open hand on the dial and shrugged. "Newkirk, you're scaring me."

"Tell me about it. I'm the one stuck with meself," he crawled back to the safe. He reached the handle with his good hand and it sizzled. He drew back just before he got burned again. "Blimey! Can't touch it!"

Kinch could see panic surfacing in the Englishman's eyes. He grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Newkirk! Listen to me. It's just in your head, man. There's got to be an explanation. There's nothing here to hurt you but yourself!"

"The lock pick broke before I could put it in the lock. I keep dropping everything about, I see people that aren't there and now that bloody box burned me hand!" Newkirk could not take his eyes off the safe. "Kinch... I'm hexed!"

"No, no. Stop saying that word. It's all you, Newkirk, please. You've got to snap out of it!"

"L-let's go back to the barracks, Kinch. Please!" He shuddered.

"We have a job to do, Corporal." Kinch raised his tone a little. "We've come this far and we're not going back empty handed." He waited until Newkirk's attention was on him. "You can't use your hand but can use your ears. Do you remember the combination?" At this point, he was not surprised when the Englishman shook his head. "Never mind. I'll turn the dial and you'll listen. We'll open this thing together, okay?"

This time, Newkirk nodded. He was not quite convinced but he would do as Kinch said.

()o()o()

"I understand your position, General but I need to know why this is happening and why now." Hogan tried to keep his voice in a neutral tone through the speaker. Although the entire situation was just getting on his nerves.

"There is a formal complaint against your team. We can't take these things lightly especially because there are budgets to conform to and other bureaucratic details to complete. The normal procedure is to open an inquiry and get to the bottom of the situation. You know that."

"What is exactly the nature of the complaint, sir?"

"Basically, unnecessary use of force, intimidation, attempted murder... It is directed against Sergeant Andrew Carter and Corporal Peter Newkirk... with particular emphasis on Corporal Newkirk." The general cleared his throat, anticipating some reaction after the next question. "What can you tell me about the corporal's mental state, Colonel?"

Hogan raised his eyebrows with indignation. He looked around to make sure none of his men was near to hear him swear. "With all due respect, sir. What the freaking hell are you talking about? My men work night and day literally breaking their backs to make this war less dangerous for our troops. No one's got the right to judge their mental state!"

"Rob, please, I'm sorry for asking this, but the complaint is very specific about that and we need to make sure that this man is not in a position of-"

"General, I understand. I really do but it doesn't make it easier. Just tell me what measures you're taking and I'll see if I can comply."

"We need to see first hand how your team is working. If everything is as usual, I'll dismiss the case. We'll be sending an agent to stay with you for a few days and.."

"Do I have a say in this, General. Because we don't have the facilities-"

"Rob, I'm not going to discuss this further with you. There are some serious accusations that must be addressed at once. This is the easiest way to calm the rumors. Please, be a good sport and let's be done with this."

Hogan was mad and frustrated but he had to agree and end the conversation with a laconic Over and out.

()o()o()

The wind hit Spike from behind and almost pushed him to the ground. He grinned.

"Well, well, well," he said. "What we have here? Dark Midnight? Lurking about? You haven't happened to see any gentle old lady around here, have you?"

The wind struck him a second time and sent him against the fence. Spike sat up on the ground and chuckled. "All right, maybe not."

()o()o()

"Turn left," Newkirk whispered. He kept his eyes closed, listening attentively to the slightest click. "Right!"

Kinch followed his instructions, turning the dial softly and slowly. He did not even dare to breathe deeply and disturb Newkirk's concentration. After three movements one way and the other, the numbers became familiar. The Englishman stopped Kinch's hand.

"It's all right. I remember the rest of it." He dictated the last five numbers and smiled to see the door finally open.

"Hey, old man. You made it," Kinch tapped him on the shoulder. "I told you you could do it."

"The numbers just came back to me all of a sudden," Newkirk breathed with relief. "For a moment I thought I was going crackers."

Newkirk sat on the floor. Maybe Kinch was right, it had to be all in his head. The mind was a powerful weapon and it could be very dangerous too. But he would not let his fears take over. He had opened the safe despite everything else.

He was about to get up when he heard something. "What was that?"

"Don't start again, Newkirk. There's no one here." Kinch continued checking the papers in the box.

"There it is again," Newkirk said. "It's like someone scratching the walls." He got up and turned around. "Just like the other night."

"Newkirk, I warn you. Stop this-" Kinch was going to scold him when the scratching became stronger.

"You hear it! You bloody hear it!" Newkirk did not know if he should be glad or scared. "It's coming from this side."

They put their ears against the wall. The noise moved from inside the walls up to the ceiling and down again.

"What do you think it could be?" Newkirk tried to look calm.

"Water, wind... rats?" Kinch was not convinced of any of his explanations. The noise did not sound familiar or natural at all. When it increased in intensity, so did his apprehension. "Let's take the pictures of the book and go back to the barracks."

"Do you have the book?" Newkirk took a pile and checked the names and addresses. He was shaking and his heart pounded. He tried to ignore the noise as much as he could but then, the chair at Klink's desk creaked.

Newkirk turned and saw someone sitting there. The air in the room chilled all of a sudden. Newkirk felt his breathing getting painfully shallow. He could not stop shaking.

"Kinch?" he whispered.

"What?," Kinch said.

"D-don't you see it?" Newkirk could barely talk.

"Stop it, Newkirk! It's too dark and you're imaging things. Give me the book to take the pictures and get out of here." The calm in his own voice surprised him. "Newkirk, the book!" The corporal found it under the day's mail and passed it to Kinch along with the camera. "The flashlight, Newkirk." Kinch could not remember another mission more suffocating than this one.

The sergeant took pictures the best he could under the trembling light of Newkirk's flashlight. The corporal kept his eyes on the desk, where the shadow stayed still. He turned his head just for a second to see how the task was progressing and the shadow was gone.

"Kinch! It moved!" He turned around with his flashlight. "Got to turn on the lights!"

"No!" Kinch grabbed him before he touched the switch. "Are you crazy? We're not supposed to be here."

"Oh, yeah," Newkirk gasped. "That thing neither, but it is!"

Another cracking sound coming from behind the furniture made their hearts beat fast. Newkirk did not turn to see where the shadow was now. Kinch made sure of putting all the papers back in the safe. He helped Newkirk to start moving and dragged him out the office.

The distance between Klink's office and Barrack 2 was not that long but to Kinch it seemed endless. Newkirk did not mind being pulled by the hand. After what had happened inside the building, he did not trust his own legs to carry him all the way back.

It was a moonless night and the yard was dark. Curiously, the sentry tower seemed to have forgotten that spot of the camp in particular.

Spike was still dusting the sleeves of his uniform when Kinch and Newkirk passed running in front of him. He stared at them and tilted his head. He was not familiarized with the POW camps' regulations but he was almost sure that prisoners running across the yard at midnight was not contemplated as normal procedure. If he were a real guard, he would probably blow his whistle or something. Instead, he turned the other side and watched for the guests leaving already. None of the women matched Drusilla's description of a gentle old lady. He could not believe how much time he had lost in that place. At least, the two guards at the gate had made it not a total loss.

tbc

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