7.Nothing is but what is not

"An inspector? What do we need an inspector for?" Carter asked.

"Don't mind him. He woke up asking questions this morning," LeBeau said.

Hogan stared at his men sitting around the table. They were all trying to concentrate on what he was saying although their minds were behind his office door. Hogan had made Wilson come to examine Newkirk the moment he entered escorted by Carter and LeBeau. By a wonderful coincidence, roll call had been canceled for the day.

"I know we're concerned about Newkirk but we have to solve more immediate problems." Hogan put one foot on the chair to lean forward on his knee. "It's just a routine inspection. Nothing you have to worry about. But I need the best behavior on your part as long as that man stays here."

"We need to be at our best until he leaves." Kinch nodded.

"That means to keep that man far away from Newkirk. We won't get points for a corporal sleeping on the roof, all right?" Hogan looked at Carter and smiled. "It's okay, Carter, we'll get out of this situation with flying colors."

"I know, sir. We'll do our best and I'm pretty sure everything will turn out okay." Carter tried to smile. "It's just that, I don't know... I'd feel better if we knew what's wrong with Newkirk."

"Yeah, I know." Hogan sat down and stared at his office door. "Me too."

Newkirk watched all the medical equipment spread on the desk. He grimaced and rubbed his neck. "D'you want me to open me mouth and say 'Ahh'?"

Wilson snorted. "It won't be necessary. I know there's nothing physically wrong with you; besides the burns in your hand... and maybe those punctures in your neck." He grabbed Newkirk's chin and made him gently turn his head to have a better look. "It's the second time in less than a week. Do you have any idea of how it happened?"

"No, I just noticed them when they began to hurt."

"There's blood in your nightshirt collar." Wilson frowned. "At least they're not infected."

"May I put on me shirt now? It's kinda chill in here."

"Sure." Wilson picked up his things and put the doctor kit aside. He watched Newkirk's slow movements with the corner of his eyes. "Are you in any pain?"

Newkirk shook his head. "No, just tired. Well, me hands hurt a little."

"Keep the gloves on for one more day and you'll be okay."

"Will I?" He smirked. "Wilson, do you think that I can hurt meself just to think about it?"

"Not in purpose, but sometimes we get obsessed about certain events. Bad luck, for instance-"

"But I don't believe in those things. I'm not like that," he said. He went to lean against the window shutter and crossed his arms over his chest. "I feel so weird lately."

"Lately? Let's say, after that day at the grocery store?" Wilson looked at him. "Maybe that, plus the subsequent incidents affected you more than you want to admit. The week after the shooting was quite excruciating, wasn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"You may be suffering the sequels of that event. You know, unable to move, or participate on the missions. And there was a lot of physical pain. Sometimes our mind just want to shut down those uncomfortable moments by turning to weird supernatural stuff. Now that you're well enough to go back to work, maybe there's some apprehension."

The sergeant had a way with words that made problems look smaller than they were. He lightened up the situation and everybody felt relieved. Newkirk wanted to believe him.

"It's possible," he reluctantly nodded. "But I never thought of meself as being so-"

"Susceptible?"

"I was going for half-witted, but that fancy word would do," he smiled.

"Well, that's it. Now you must try to take things easy. The trauma caused by pain can be exhausting. Maybe this won't go away overnight, but I'm sure that you'll overcome it little by little." He clapped Newkirk's shoulder. "Do you need anything to sleep?

"A rope to tie me up to me bed," he laughed painfully.

"Rest, Newkirk. Don't mind anything around here. You must rest. Do I make myself clear?"

"Rest," he nodded and followed him outside.

The stares of concern weighed heavily on Newkirk. He hated to be the center of attention, especially when everybody seemed to be waiting for him to tumble forward and land face down on the floor. He came to sit on his bunk. It took a great deal of concentration to climb up casually and without any incident.

Even Hogan seemed distracted from his own speech to watch the corporal. Once he was installed on his bed and lit a cigarette, the colonel resumed the lecture.

"As I was saying, I expect the best behavior and full cooperation while the inspection takes place. Oh, yes, we have a small leak and landslide in section T of the tunnel that must be repaired before winter starts. Four men would do the job."

"Volunteers, you mean." Newkirk asked.

"Thank you, Newkirk, but I'll keep you on the bench for now, okay?" Hogan grinned. "Carter, LeBeau and Steward, and Kinch is in charge." He straightened up and smiled. "Now, I need two volunteers to go outside and find out why we're confined to our barracks."

()o()o()

Carter and Newkirk walked carelessly towards Schultz. The German sergeant did not see them coming and almost dropped his rifle.

"Hey, easy, Schultz. It's just us, Carter and me," Newkirk said. He stationed himself at one side and Carter at the other.

The young sergeant took out a bag of jelly beans, had a few and passed the bag in front of Schultz to Newkirk. Schultz's mouth watered. He just loved jelly beans. One by one, or several at once. It took some will power to resume his guardian position and scold the two men.

"What are you doing outside?" He narrowed his eyes. "You must be confined with the rest of the prisoners."

"Oh, Schultz, with this beautiful weather? That's not fair." Carter tossed another jelly bean in the air and trapped it in his mouth. "Do you know why we're confined this time? What did we do?"

Schultz watched the bag going on its way to Newkirk. "It doesn't have to do at all with you. We have a situation here." He turned around to make sure no one was paying attention.

"What kind of situation? Why weren't we informed?" Newkirk narrowed his eyes and passed the bag back to Carter.

"There was no way to know. It happened very late last night." He closed his eyes when the bag touched his nose. He suddenly realized he was talking about classified information and grimaced. "Can't talk about that." He straightened up and began to walk. The men followed him closely.

"Come on, Schultzie, for a jelly bean?" Newkirk pushed him gently.

"For one jelly bean I would give you the time but no more than that."

"And for half a dozen?" Carter grinned evilly.

Schultz knew that it was not about will power but ethics: he was the guard. Guards should not fraternize with the prisoners, or accept jelly beans whatsoever. But he had not eaten anything since breakfast and lunch was still two hours away. No one could blame him for not wanting to starve.

"All right, this is between you two and me." He tasted the first jelly bean and sighed. "Some time, between eleven and midnight, two guards were killed. Their bodies appeared several meters from the main gate this morning." His expression got somber as he heard his own words. There was nothing casual about two young men killed senselessly. "We're waiting for the SS to arrive to investigate the case. You might be prepared for interrogation."

"Us? Why? We didn't do it." Carter frowned.

"Picture it in your head, Andrew. Two guards killed in a ruddy prison camp. Who do you think the usual suspects will be?" Newkirk leaned against the wall. "I didn't hear any gunshots, were they stabbed?"

Schultz shook his head. "That's the odd part of it, their bodies don't present any evidence of violence. Except for two small punctures in the neck." Suddenly, he frowned. "Just like the ones in your hand, Newkirk."

Newkirk pulled his sweater up and crossed his arms to hide his hands. "Not bloody likely, where do you get the idea?" He chuckled nervously.

"Punctures in the neck,"said Carter with a snort. "Next thing you're gonna say is that they didn't have a drop of blood left in their bodies." His laughed lasted little when he saw Schultz's eyes widen. "Oh, come on, you have to be joking."

"I didn't say vampires. The kommandant forbade me to say that word. But strange things have been happening around here. Like you, Newkirk," Schultz turned to him. "You were sleepwalking last night. Didn't you see or hear anything?"

"I was bloody sleeping!" He yelled and turned to see if anyone had heard. "I don't think you should mention me name. Anyways, you were also out last night, weren't you?"

"B-But I was with Carter and LeBeau and-"

"And you didn't hear anything either," Carter narrowed his eyes inquisitively.

Schultz stared at them staring at him. "All right, all right. You all were in the barracks, I can say that because I saw you there." He looked at the jelly beans. "Another dozen and I might forget the punctures in your wrist, Newkirk."

The corporal laughed. "Schultz, are you blackmailing me now?" He gave him the bag. "Happy vampire hunting."

They returned to Barrack 2 with the news of the day.

()o()o()

The daily activities in the Stalag were off. Everybody was concentrated in the barracks which facilitated Hogan's meetings in the tunnels. He waited until his four men were there with him to start the briefing.

"Okay, this is today's agenda." He took his little black book and read. "Local underground needs a copy of the new codes. Carter and Newkirk will take it tonight. The rendezvous will be at the Hofbrau." He looked up at Newkirk and grinned. "Don't get any ideas. Oh, yeah, code name is Sleeping Beauty-"

"No pun intended, Newkirk," Kinch said.

"So ruddy funny we are today, aren't we?" Newkirk grunted.

"After last night's killings, the roads will be up to the rim with patrols. You must go in a disguise that won't raise suspicions." Hogan did not want to miss their faces when he finished the sentence. "You'll be a lovely old timer couple going out for a drink."

"The gnädige Dame again?" Newkirk was upset. "Can't I be the Papa this time?"

"Come, Corporal. Where's your famous British flair?" Hogan grinned again. "Besides, there's a brand new pair of silk stalkings you haven't tried yet."

"It's not that bad. I've heard that for old people, first drink is on the house." Carter smiled and tapped Newkirk on the back.

"You might even get a ride home afterward," LeBeau laughed.

Newkirk gave up and laughed at the jokes. This was better than everybody running to pull him up off the floor. "Oroit, the joke's on you, I look pretty in black."

"Moving on," Hogan said after a moment of more jokes and fun. "The inspector also comes tonight."

"Boy, couldn't he choose a better day?"

"You can say that again, Carter. With a murderer on the loose and the new weapon affair, are our hands are more than full. We'll give him as much as we can without compromising the nature of our operations, okay?" Hogan checked that on his list. "LeBeau and Kinch, you'll pick him up. The plane should be dropping him within thirty minutes after twenty-one hundred hours. Be punctual, we don't want to disappoint the man before he starts his job." He put his notebook away. "Questions?"

"Any word on the Hammelburg disappearances?" Carter asked, raising his hand.

"Do you want to start the inquiry yourself?" LeBeau chuckled.

"This time, we'll follow Schultz' example. We know nothing, we hear nothing," Hogan said. "Now, go and play indoor cat upstairs, everybody." He turned to Newkirk. "How are you?"

"Better than last night, sir," he nodded.

"Everything's all right, you know that." Hogan tried hard to rebuild Newkirk's confidence before it went down altogether. It did not seem an easy task. "Go to my office and stay in until it's time to leave. I don't want to see you wandering around, do you hear me?"

Newkirk grimaced but nodded anyway. "Yes, sir."

()o()o()

Spike arrived to the castle running for shelter from the sun. The cape helped to protect his sensitive skin but without a break once in a while, he would have burst in flames in matter of seconds. He turned the corner, looking for the small window at ground level that brought a little light to the basement cell. When he found it, he hid under a small roof by the tower. He cooled off as much as he could and waited for some clouds to cover the sun. He put the cape back over his head and ran to the window.

"Dru, are you still there?" Spike whispered.

Au clair de la lune, mon amie Pierrot,

Prête moi ta plume pour écrire un mot...

"Dru! Got not much time. Talk to me!"

"Voices... I hear voices... Spike? Are you invisible now?"

Her voice was the only thing he needed to goad him into the battle. "Hell no, I'm here, outside." He lied on his belly trying to look through the small window. "I went to Hammelburg, but there was no gracious little lady whatsoever. Are you sure that was the right address?"

He heard the cards being shuffled and a little giggle on the side.

"She's still there. She waits for you..." There was a pause. "There is a name... The Phantom."

"Phantom? What kind of name is that for a bloody old woman?" Spike shook his head. "Oroit, I'll go back and keep looking for sweet little ladies," he sighed. Then a sharp pain made him jump. "Bloody hell!"

"William?"

"I'm all right. My bloody boot caught on fire," he said, beating on his ankle with his cape. "I'm off here. But I'll be right back. Don't despair, my lov-" He was interrupted by the song.

Au clair de la lune, mon amie Pierrot,

Prête moi ta plume pour écrire un mot...

Alone, in Hogan's quarters, Newkirk was deeply asleep when he began to sing.

Ma chandelle est morte, je n'ai plus de feu

Ouvre moi ta porte pour l'amour de Dieu...

()o()o()

The SS officer read the list Colonel Klink had just given him. He read the names attentively before smirking. "Were these all the people in the Stalag last night?"

"Certainly, it was a small party. General Burckhalter did not want to-" Klink interrupted himself when he felt the officer was not paying attention to him.

The man was by the window, staring at the barracks. "How about the prisoners? Were they all inside their barracks?"

"Yes, except for the ones minding the kitchen." Klink could feel the officer staring at him through his black glasses. "They would be... Sergeant Carter and Corporal LeBeau... Colonel Hogan was present for a while too..."

()o()o()

Carter shifted in his chair a couple of times. He loosened the last bottom of his shirt collar and breathed deeply.

"Carter, for the last time be quiet." Hogan pretended to read one of those military magazines that Klink kept on the waiting room of his office. Occasionally, he looked up at Helga's desk and flirted with the girl. "You're screaming guilty all over the place," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Colonel but I hate it when they call me for interrogation. I'm always sure that I'm gonna start talking and I won't be able to stop and-"

"You've never done that. In fact, I think they've never been able to finish interrogation with you." Hogan shrugged. "I have perfect confidence on my men, Carter. You never disappoint me. Besides, there is nothing you can say about this case."

LeBeau came out with a wide smile on his face and sat down next to Hogan. "They made me write my crêpes recipe, with secret ingredient and everything. Literally, a piece of cake."

Now, they called Carter. The sergeant needed a push from the colonel to get up and start walking. Hogan took a deep breath when he saw the door closing after him. He turned to LeBeau.

"As long as he doesn't confess to the murders, we're completely safe."

Newkirk woke up gasping for air. He had been dreaming about those invisible hands again. Now, they had locked around his neck and began to squeeze. He wanted to scream, but there was no air in his lungs to produce a sound. He got up and his feet did not respond. He felt down to the floor. It took him two entire minutes to compose himself enough to get up and sit on the bunk. He had always congratulated himself for having a vivid imagination, but after a while, it seemed getting rather dangerous.

This one had been by far the creepiest dream he had ever had.

"... of course, if it was a vampire, you'll have to watch for simple things such as the reflection on the mirror. Because vampires don't have a reflection-"

"Sergeant, that's enough." The SS officer took out his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He turned to Klink.

"Yes, I know, I tried to warn you," he shrugged and sat at his desk. "You're dismissed, Sergeant Carter."

"Send Colonel Hogan in," the officer ordered him on his way out.

Klink only rolled his eyes. If they had faced a couple of wiseguys, Hogan was the master mind. The kommandant knew that the investigation would go nowhere as long as they focused on the prisoners. His only hope was for Hogan to be clever and cut the interrogation short.

()o()o()

Newkirk went down the tunnel before Hogan and the others came back from Klink's office. He began to get dressed and apply the makeup as a way of putting his mind on something else. He looked himself in the mirror and noticed the reddish spots forming around his neck. He remembered Wilson's explanations; it was possible that he had hurt himself in his dreams. That did not put him at ease. His body was starting to show bruises and lacerations and he wondered if this was a good time to panic. He took the red shawl and a scarf to cover his neck the best he could.

"Have you asked Sergeant Schultz? I saw him coming to the barrack twice last night-" Hogan sat with his hat on his lap and looking innocent.

"He had to escort you and then Carter and LeBeau," said Klink.

"Well, yes, but still. I've always thought that carrying an empty rifle is highly suspicious, don't you think? Maybe he doesn't fear anything because he's the one that-"

"Colonel Hogan, you came back to the barrack very early, may I ask why?" The SS officer was getting impatient.

"As I said, I'm a country boy. You know early to bed, early to rise-"

"Colonel Hogan!" The SS officer glared. "Did you see anything-" He stopped him before Hogan rushed an answer. "Besides your men, Sergeant Schultz and the guests in the party!"

"Well, in that case, I have to say no... If there was anything funny... Well that's a relative term, isn't?"

Klink shrugged when the officer stared at him. Definitely, they were not going to get anything from the prisoners.

()o()o()

Hogan came down the tunnel with Carter and LeBeau. The three of them looked happy. There was nothing more satisfactory than enraging officers during questioning.

"The poor man will never come to a Stalag as an interrogator again." LeBeau laughed. "Le colonel defended the fort as a champion."

"Nothing to it. They should concentrate outside where the real killers are." Hogan shrugged and checked on Newkirk's disguise.

"How do you like it, sir?" Newkirk smiled widely. "Is it too much?"

"Not at all. Every time I see you in this dress, I remember my grandmother." He turned to Carter. "Hurry up, Grandpa. We need to make that delivery on time."

Kinch came with the envelope and handed it to Newkirk. "The road is clear."

"Very well, then," Hogan met Carter's and Newkirk's eyes. "Needless to say that you must be extra careful tonight. We don't know what is going on out there and the patrols are all around. Make the delivery and come back immediately."

"Yes, sir," Carter saluted while looking for his hat and glasses.

Newkirk nodded. "No happy hour, I promise." He turned to Carter and his voice changed into character. "Come on, Papa. Let's go for a walk in town." He smiled and tightened the scarf around his neck.

Hogan saw them leave. It was just a mission as many they had done before. But somehow, it felt different, dangerous. He went to LeBeau. "Are you ready?" He sighed. "Bring our unwanted guest and let's get done with this once and for all."

()o()o()

Carter and Newkirk walked as fast as they could until they arrived in town. They had met a few patrols on the road but the guards did not bother to stop an old couple. They arrived a few minutes earlier.

It was not news that the Hofbrau was almost empty. As the bartender explained to them, the killings were keeping people in their houses. Only a few would dared to walk outside in times like this. Carter and Newkirk sat at a table while waiting for their contact to arrive. Newkirk took out a fairy tale book and put it on the table.

They did not have to wait long. An old man came closer and took his hat off to Newkirk.

"Gutten Abend," he sat down and put his hat on the table. "My granddaughter loves fairy tales and I was thinking of reading her Sleeping Beauty."

"Oh, charming book indeed," Newkirk said slipping the package under the hat. "Goldilocks and the Three Bears is my granddaughter's favorite."

There was some small talk to end the meeting and their contact was gone. Without delay, the old couple got up and headed for the door. They walked slowly and mumbling words here and there when a young man got up from his table and stepped on their way.

Spike met the old lady face to face and laughed. "Hey, you're not a lady!"

tbc

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