After dropping LeBeau, Mrs. Julia Hochstetter, Freida Hochstetter and Hannah at the Limler farm, Newkirk and Carter took the remaining male civilians and the truck down the road, following Hogan and Hochstetter in the staff car. The route they took was convoluted and confusing but it got them into the thick of a wooded patch a hundred feet from a small shack.
The building wasn't more than twenty by twenty feet, and looked abandoned but for a thin line of smoke coming from the smoke stack. When Hogan spotted the smoke he felt some of the pressure in his chest release. If the smoke was there, then the prisoners in the officer's barracks at Gusen still had their secret stove. If they still had the stove, they still had the tunnels and the tunnels were the key to the whole operation.
"Alright Newkirk and Carter, go through to the officer's barracks and get Poitkin and Nestor out h-"
"N-nestor.." Newkirk interrupted shoving his hand high above his head then outlining a shape that might have been a bulldozer or a small tank. "Nestor?"
"Yeah, Nestor." Hogan said impatiently. "Get them out here on the double."
"Got it." As Carter and Newkirk disappeared into the shack and down the ladder to the tunnel, Hochstetter stepped a foot through the door staring bewildered at what he could only assume was the tip of the iceberg that Hogan had created in the time he'd been imprisoned at Gusen.
Hogan was like a termite or a cockroach. Always expanding his territory and impossible to kill.
"I'd love to show you around the old place but we aren't going to have time." Hogan said, guessing at what was going through Hochstetter's mind.
"General Burkhalter's-"
Hogan nodded. "He may decide to jump the gun and be rid of Klink as fast as possible, and that could mean scattering my men all over Germany. If you're going to live up to your promise we've got to do everything we can tonight."
"And my wife, and Frieda."
"They'll be safe. They'll get passage to London and I'll make sure they have something in the way of temporary housing."
Hochstetter nodded with a sigh of gratitude that didn't quite make it out of his mouth as a verbal, 'Thank you'. He wasn't sure he could say as much until he knew his wife and daughter were safe.
"How-" Hochstetter began, then he shook his head and tightly closed his lips together. An unspoken agreement had been arranged between himself and the American. They weren't friends, but for the moment they had a common goal. Trust was a major issue but the less Hochstetter knew about the details, the more comfortable Hogan seemed to be with having the Gestapo man and his family along. He would find out when he found out, and with the volume of reports that Hochstetter had in his office cataloguing the various wild schemes he had attributed to Hogan, Hochstetter wasn't sure that he wanted to know everything.
"As soon as I have things moving here, you and I are going to take the rest of the civilians and the truck into camp. We'll harass the commandant for a bit, give these guys time to get ready. Then when the noise starts, we'll be in charge of emptying the hospital."
Hochstetter nodded, stifling the dozen or so questions that popped into his mind as soon as the colonel fell silent.
"For now," Hogan added. "I think it'd be best if you wait by the staff car. If anybody happens across the vehicles without an officer nearby we'll raise more flags than we can handle."
Moments after Hochstetter had stomped away through the snow there was the shuffle of footsteps echoing from the mouth of the tunnel and the ladder trembled, a giant head looming up from the darkened depths.
A smile broke across Hogan's face, distorting a little when it met some of the swelling. "Nestor!"
"Colonel Hogan." The giant man responded equally pleased, and as he ducked out of the shack he brought a meatloaf-sized hand to his temple in salute then pulled the colonel in for a bone crushing hug. "It is good to see you." Nestor said, his basso voice vibrating against Hogan's head.
By the time he was able to breathe Lieutenant Igor Piotkin had climbed the ladder and treated Hogan to another firm, back slapping hug that Hogan did his best to weather.
Newkirk climbed the ladder next and Carter hung onto the top rung, looking a little shy.
Hogan met the Brit's eyes and caught the sympathetic wince. Newkirk must have been treated to the hugging routine too, and Carter looked like he was afraid he'd be next. Once the greetings were out of the way Hogan cut to the chase, stifling any questions. "We've got to organize fast and the details are going to matter. Lt. Piotkin, how about you get me up to speed."
To this command the Russian officer all but beamed and snapped a salute before he began his report, "The tunnel to Zoo is finish and very good tunnel. Men in Barracks three have made civilian clothes out of material requisitioned for making mattress. This we exchange with political prisoner for information from town."
Newkirk's eyebrows went up and he caught the same surprised and pleased look on the colonel's face. Not only were operations still going on, but Piotkin had expanded. "We have emergency tunnel started, going to political prisoner barrack. Not completed. Three men are scheduled to die tonight, and will go out in morning." He continued, referring to the method by which the prisoner's regularly escaped without rousing suspicions.
The body's were usually represented by sacks of dirt sewn into extra material requisitioned for just that purpose. The dirt was 'buried' behind the barracks in a mass 'grave'.
"Do the political prisoners know about the tunnels?" Newkirk asked.
"Nyet. We were going to tell them right before we finish."
The Brit laughed, delighted. "Knock knock, cheers fellas. By the way this hole in your floor's a ready-made escape tunnel."
Piotkin shared a grin with the Englander, then straightened his posture and his face as he snapped his attention back to the colonel. "Daily exercise continues. Tomorrow is big tournament game between Barrack 3C and Barrack 2A." Igor gave a sideways glance, a pleased smile starting to show again as Newkirk tilted his head in curiosity, then Igor said. "We have five guards with money in pool."
Newkirk grinned and puffed his chest out a little, looking like a proud big brother, delighted that Igor and the others had managed to rope the guards into the gambling pool in his absence.
"You've done well Igor and I'm proud of you, all of you. But the time has come for all of you to escape." Hogan said.
To his shock, instead of smiles and celebration, both Igor and Nestor's faces fell. The two officers glanced between themselves, then looked back to Hogan.
"B-but we have done good. We have escape route and tunnels. And..the game."
Hogan's brow creased and he pushed his cap back on his head, feeling the headache come roaring back. "Iggy..." He started. "This is dangerous work. It's not all fun and games, if you fellas get caught doing any of this you could be killed."
"But we are soldiers, Colonel. We could be killed on Russian front just same." Nestor said, his voice like a distant earthquake.
Climbing the rest of the way up the ladder Carter stepped out of the shack and said, "Pardon me, sir, but I gotta say. Their set up isn't that bad. The tunnel entrance is well hidden, and they did a good job of bracing. They've started expanding down there and it...looks pretty good."
"Look…fellas…" Hogan began but Newkirk cut him off this time, making the effort to do it politely.
"Sir, I'm the last person who should ever be sayin' this but, what was our mission in Germany? To sabotage the enemy, aid escaping prisoners and do everything possible to stick it to the Krauts."
"You make it sound like we're setting up a…a branch office. We had a lot going for us at Stalag XIII. We had underground contacts in the area already…"
Igor tried to interrupt, his eyes lighting with a response, but Hogan continued over him.
"Newkirk, you and LeBeau, Olsen and the others had been in the camp long enough to know the grounds like the back of your hand. You knew the guards, the commandant, the layout."
"But sir-" Nestor rumbled.
Hogan was pacing now. "Most important, we were officially sanctioned by London High Command. We had a radio network we could rely on, and a solid escape network that we knew worked."
"Colonel…" Newkirk said finally pointing to Nestor who was holding something in his outstretched hand. "So do they."
Hogan frowned at the object, then took it, feeling it crinkle in his hands. "Cigarettes?" He pulled the pack to his nose and breathed in deep, only then realizing that Newkirk had spent the past five minutes working on one of the smokes, his first in weeks. "These aren't Russian."
Newkirk shook his head. "English, sir. These boys have started receiving Red Cross packages from London."
"How?"
Piotkin exchanged a pleased glance with Nestor before he said, "When you are taken by Gestapo we worry that we will be on our own. We want London to know what happen to you, so we send a three man team to make contact, any way possible. We not hear from them for long time, and think, they are captured."
"First civilian suits. Not very good." Nestor explained.
"Takes some practice…" Newkirk added reassuringly, before he smirked again, clearly having heard this story once already.
"But…one day we send 'dead man' through tunnel, and he come back next night with packages. Three, from London. They contain fruit jam, and ration of sugar and coffee-" Piotkin and Nestor both sighed heavily at the mention of the word, and Hogan couldn't help the beginnings of a smile creeping on to his face.
"And these cigarettes, I imagine." Hogan said.
"Dah. And note from London." Piotkin said, then pointed to the cigarette pack.
Hogan turned the paper box in his hands once before he noticed where the note had been hidden, slid neatly around the cigarettes. He pulled it out and handed the smokes back to their rightful owner before he stepped closer to the beam of the flashlight that Carter had produced.
"Unable to reach Goldilocks. Mama Bear will make all attempts possible to reach Papa Bear. Tell Goldilocks, pack your porridge and go home." Hogan felt his stomach drop a little, not sure if he was elated or devastated by the official word from London that they hadn't been able to get for so long.
Somehow having the high command tell him to pack up and go home made him reluctant to do it. "That…makes it official, fellas." Hogan said, watching as Carter started beaming and Newkirk finally relaxed into a nicotine induced haze. "We're goin' home."