Am I going to fast? I hope not. You've been so generous with your reviews that I think you don't deserve to be left in such a cliffhanger for too long. :)

CPR as we know it was not perfected until several years later. The procedure described here is one of many that were used during wartime. Maybe it is not the best but in my story it works perfectly ;)

11. I bear a charmed life

Newkirk coughed for air before opening his eyes. He did not try to move while waves of pain and nausea washed over him. He realized he was on the ground, lying on his belly, with his head turned to one side and resting on his hands. He felt someone pressing his back at rhythmical intervals. One hand touched his neck.

"I feel the pulse." Wilson sat beside him to catch some air. "Let's turn him over. Very slowly."

Newkirk felt the sun in his eyes and blinked. Carter held his hat over him to shield him from the bright light. "How're you doing, buddy?"

"What-" Newkirk found it difficult to coordinate words and thoughts.

"You were hit by a thousand volts."

"Not that many, Carter. Thank Goodness." Kinch came from behind. "You scared the hell out of me, man. Are you better?"

"Don't crowd him." Wilson said. "Can you sit up?"

Newkirk nodded and a dozen hands came to hold him and push him and finally steady him. Hogan crouched in front of him and touched his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I... think... so," he said. "Got a headache."

"It's normal, with all the electricity going through your body." Wilson checked his pulse.

"How long was I-"

"Unconscious?" LeBeau finished the sentence for him. "Almost one minute."

Carter nodded. "Your heart stopped and everything."

"It was less than thirty seconds," Kinch tried to soften the incident for Newkirk's sake.

"Well, basically, you were dead for thirty seconds!"

"Carter!" Hogan and Kinch scolded him at the same time.

Newkirk turned to Kinch and went paler that before. "Blimey, Kinch-!"

"It's just a coincidence. Newkirk, don't even think of that."

Hogan caught their private conversation and frowned. Kommandant Klink came from behind and they stopped. By then, Newkirk was ready to get back on his feet. He was shaky but stable. Carter held his arm, as if determined not to let him go.

Newkirk's memory had come back in flashes and he realized that he had just saved Klink's life. To add up awkwardness to a very awkward situation, the kommandant's attitude seemed to have softened all of a sudden. Newkirk had never seen him so moved by a situation.

"Corporal? Are you all right?" He spoke softly, as if he were afraid of hurting him with the tone of his voice. "What you did was tremendously reckless, but you saved my life. I have no way to-"

Newkirk gathered strength from pure adrenaline. "Sir, I wasn't thinking straight." He grinned to see Klink's relief. Neither of them wanted to bond over this incident.

"Sergeant Wilson," said Klink, "make sure this man gets proper care. Corporal, you're excused from any activity for the next seven days including roll calls." He saluted and went back to his office. Only Hogan, who was closer, noticed that he was still shaking.

"Well, everybody go back to whatever you were doing." Hogan turned to Newkirk. "You may rest for the day, Carter can come with me."

"Oh, no sir, please. I can't stay here on me own. Much less go to sleep." Newkirk stared at him pleadingly. "Please, sir, you've got to take me with you."

"All right," said Hogan with a shrug. "Let's see how you do the rest of the day. Wilson?"

"No objections. I think he should be quiet for a while but we can't tie him up to his bunk, can we?"

"LeBeau tried that already. Didn't work," said Carter. "Come, Newkirk, stay out of the sun."

Hogan took a deep breath. He saw Kinch turning around and he stopped him. "Kinch, what was that about? Did you know anything about Newkirk? Can you tell me?"

"Well, how much harm can it do?" Kinch walked with Hogan. "Now, Colonel, you must keep your mind open."

()o()o()

Newkirk was getting restless in the barrack. Every time he sat down, the walls seemed to close on him. He shuffled his cards and tried to think of a good game of Solitary but his mind was not into it. He stood up.

"Hey, where are you going?" LeBeau stopped his sewing. "You're supposed to take it easy the rest of the day."

"I'll take it easy outside, all right?" Newkirk stepped out.

Carter sighed and left his magazine on the table. "I'll go with him."

Newkirk sat on a bench far from the barrack. He could still feel the electricity running through his veins and his hands shook a little. He saw Carter walking towards him and sighed. "You lads won't give me a break, will you?"

The young sergeant sat next to him. "You think you're the only one shaking here? When we saw you jumping up in the air... Boy, that was scary." He leaned his head against the wall. "Wilson couldn't find your pulse, you weren't breathing... I thought you were dead."

"I know... I'm sorry." Newkirk smiled. "I don't remember anything, but I suppose it was scary for everybody." He took a cigarette and looked at Schultz, who was coming out of the mess hall with a sorrowful expression. "Hey, Schultzie, you look like the Germans are losing the war already."

"Worse. The milk went bad and there is no more in the kitchen." He sighed and sat down. Newkirk and Carter had to squeeze into a corner.

"Why? Are the cows going on strike now?" Carter chuckled.

"Something like that. They're not giving milk since last night's winds."

"Tough." Newkirk put the cigarette in his mouth and clicked his lighter.

"Hey, look at the flame, it's blue!" Carter stared at it with surprise.

"What about that?" Newkirk laughed. "It doesn't have anything to do with the stroke of lightning, does it?"

"Of course not. It's something else." Carter frowned. "Where have I heard about that?"

"Milk gone bad, cows refusing to give milk..." Schultz was deep in thought. Then, his eyes widened. "Fire turns blue... Ach du liebe!"

Carter too looked startled. "Geez!"

"What? What?" Newkirk had to put out his lighter before it burned his fingers.

"Eine Hexe!"

"A witch?" Newkirk chuckled. "Give me a break."

"No, it's true. My Nanny told us stories back in the farm. Those are the signs of a witch moving next door." Carter was rather amazed. Then, he met Newkirk's eyes. The Englishman was far from being amused. "Of course, that's just a fairy tale..."

"You've got to tell me that? Here I am, a nervous wreck, nearly fried by a lighting bolt and you come up with those ruddy stories about witches moving into the neighbourhood?" He stood up and tossed his cigarette. "Some friends you are!"

Carter and Schultz looked as he walked away. They felt bad for him but the highlight of the day would have to be the witch that was or was not there.

"Poor Newkirk..." Carter grimaced.

"Ja, this is getting really creepy." Schultz nodded.

Carter grinned suddenly. "Are there any horses nearby?"

"Looking for hag knots?... Ludwig Brahms' old mare died last month..." Schultz chuckled. "Do you want to come to the kitchen and check if the yeast for the bread isn't rising*?"

"Swell!"

()o()o()

"Colonel, who's that bloody man from London?"

Hogan turned around, looking for their underground contact. The railway station was half empty, so it should not be hard to recognize the person as soon as they arrived. Newkirk's question was too direct to ignore it.

"An inspector, Newkirk. That's all you need to know. The boys in London are a little concerned with our expenses and they're making sure we're worth the money they're paying for us."

"They're paying to keep us in a POW camp? Just marvellous." Newkirk chuckled.

"He's been talking with everybody, but you don't have to worry about that, okay?" Hogan said. "He's leaving soon."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"What are you protecting me from?"

"I'm sorry." Hogan smiled. "Things have gone a little rough for you lately and I-"

"You've been talking to Kinch, haven't you?" Newkirk shook his head. "Now you too think I'm gone crackers."

"Of course not. In fact, Kinch is beginning to think that there are no coincidences in the things that are happening to you."

"And what do you think?"

"I'm very sceptical, Newkirk. We're exposed to very stressful situations. You must be going through a reaction from the things you had to do in your last mission." He kept his eyes on the crowd. "I'm trying to keep my mind open. I can't help being concerned about you and I'm looking for some better way to help you out."

That was not the answer Newkirk was hoping for. They were nowhere near a solution as long as they thought that this was all in his head. He shrugged and stared at one small group of people coming in. One girl in particular attracted his attention. "Hey, Gov'nor. I think that bird matches the description."

"Stay here and watch my back."

Newkirk looked at Hogan walking towards the girl. He turned around to make sure no one else was paying attention. So far, so good. He was in alert with all his senses, just as he was used to when working the mission. Then, it was a surprise to find that a man had sat down next to him so quietly.

"Don't move, you're surrounded." The man whispered to Newkirk and he pressed what felt like a weapon against his side.

Hogan introduced himself to the lady in question. She, a young activist, was thrilled to meet Papa Bear in person.

"I have the new developments on the secret weapon." She gave him an envelope. "The egg is in Nuremberg. Your contact there will give you more details. Their address is inside along with several details on the egg."

"Is it an egg? A plain, white egg?" Hogan peeped inside the envelope.

"I know it sounds crazy. It gave us a lot of laughs at our place, but apparently, it's extremely important for the Allies." She smiled. "Let's hope that it'll be recognizable enough for you to find it without problems."

Hogan smiled back.

Newkirk was about to jump, make his move against the man and the pistol on his ribs. His muscles tensed.

"Don't think about it, or your chief will get it."

"My chief? Who the blazes speaks like that," Newkirk chuckled. "I think I know you."

"No, you don't."

"Oh, yeah? I never forget a voice." Newkirk took advantage of the little moment of hesitation to grab the hand with the pistol. There was no pistol. "A ruddy finger?" He laughed. "I bet there's no one else but you."

Spike twisted his hand and locked it on Newkirk's wrist so hard that it almost made him scream. "All right, cockney boy, I'll make a deal with you. Don't move and I won't break your bones one by one. Be bloody sure that I'm very capable of doing it so fast that no one would notice you're dead until next Christmas." His voice was still calm but Newkirk did not feel tempted to test his sincerity.

"Got all me attention, Oliver Twisted." He felt his hand being squeezed. He bit his lower lip to suppress the scream. "G-got me curious too," he gasped, "what is it what you want?"

"First of all, the name is William, the Bloody... or Spike," He grinned. "You'll behave if you don't want me to use your friend over there to show you why they gave me that name. And in case you're wondering, yes, I do have the strength of ten men. A fact, no need to brag about that."

"Fair enough." Newkirk felt the lock loosening a little. "Back in business. What can I do you for, gov'nor?"

"Don't patronize me. I know you're trying to make time for him to come back. We can't talk details in here. You must come to Nuremberg with me. I need you to steal something for me."

"Me? To Nuremberg? Just like that?"

"Well, that's what you do, don't you? Steal stuff."

"I'm not freelance," he chuckled. "Plus, I'm in a prison camp. We don't get free passes every other weekend."

"Listen, I don't care how you do it." Spike glared at him with cold eyes. "Did you read the news today? It's been five victims so far. Well, keep the score, Artful Dodger, it'll be one every day until you decide to come with me... Maybe I'll get closer to your friends... You know what it's like, all together in the same place. No way to escape... It will be a blast..." He let go Newkirk's hand. He saw the mark on his palm and laughed. "Bloody hell, she found you after all. I bet you've having the time of your life, haven't you?"

"What do you know about this?" Newkirk was suddenly interested.

"Now you want to talk." Spike got up. "I'll tell you what. I'll drop by to visit you tomorrow night. In the meantime stay away from the forest, the dogs, and the dreams." He shook his head. "I wonder why she hasn't killed you yet."

In the time that took Newkirk to get up from the bench, Spike was already gone. Hogan was back, putting the envelope in his coat pocket. He noticed some agitation in the Englishman but decided to let it go.

"Interested in a field trip?"

Newkirk frowned. "Nuremberg?"

"How did you know?" Hogan stared at him warily.

"It seems a very popular place all of a sudden," he grimaced.

"What is it?" Hogan sat next to him. "Can you tell me what's going on with you?"

Newkirk shrugged. "It's been a thing after the other," he sighed, "I just feel out of sorts. Maybe you should take someone else with you."

"I could keep that in mind, but I think you need to make a comeback and soon." Hogan looked at him and smiled. "These things take time. You should not let a few weird incidents ruin you life. You're essential in my team, you know that."

Yes, he did and that did not make him feel any better...

tbc

*Signs of a witch moving to your neighbourhood, you may find them in any site about witches :)

Thank you for keep on reading. Please let me know ;)