After the others had left the infirmary, Hogan went over to Wilson, "What's up?" Anderson made himself busy with Carter.
"Sir, I'm assuming any other injuries you have are bumps and bruises from the fall. Is that correct?"
Hogan looked at Wilson with his command face firmly in place, "Just worry about Carter."
"He's getting the best care we can provide. I don't want to be second-guessing and worrying about you also while I'm taking care of Carter. So sir, please level with me. Is there anything else I should know about?" Wilson asked deadpanning Hogan in the eyes.
Hogan nodded his head, swallowing his pride answered, "Seriously, I'm fine. I know I'll feel the fall tomorrow. Haven't had a chance to look, but I'm sure there are a few bruises. My shoulder is the worst, and nothing else feels like it needs attention." He hoped he'd put Wilson's mind at ease so the medic could concentrate on the real patient.
"We need you at your best to deal with Klink and any other fallout that comes from this mission, so please take the aspirin. I know your shoulder has to hurt badly. In the supplies London is sending will be a large bottle along with stronger meds too, so if you need something else just let me know," Wilson handed Hogan the aspirin. Hogan took two pills swallowing them then dropped two more into his pocket for later. "You've lost enough blood that it's important that you push fluids for the next twenty-four hours. It doesn't matter what. Water, coffee, juice, I don't care. Just consciously make an effort to drink more," Wilson requested.
"That I can do," Hogan answered thinking a cup of coffee sounded really good right now. "Are we good?"
"Yes, sir, we're good," Wilson answered. "As long as you'll tell me what you find later."
Hogan nodded his head yes. "What do you think Carter's chances are?"
"Honestly, once we have the supplies fifty-fifty."
"And if we couldn't have gotten the medications?" Hogan asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Considerably less. We'll do everything possible."
"Keep me informed," Hogan ordered then left the infirmary and went to the bunk bed entrance. "LeBeau, is there any coffee?"
"Oui, I'll get you some," LeBeau left the group.
"We have it figured out, sir," Kinch said moving ropes into position. "We're running the ropes over the top of the bunk bed so it'll be strong enough to lift Carter. If we tried putting it on just the frame, it might not hold. This way we can have men on each side and raise him flat as requested. Once he's topside slack will be added as someone pulls him over the frame. Then we just remove the ropes and carry the stretcher to his bunk."
"Good work," Hogan said looking at the setup.
"It was your Sergeant's idea," François said taking a cup of coffee from LeBeau who also handed one to Hogan. "Merci."
"Any idea how you'll explain the injuries to Klink?" Kinch asked.
"One step at a time," Hogan answered taking a drink from his coffee. He didn't have the energy to spend on that headache at the moment.
"Corporal Newkirk, was ist los?" A night guard from Stalag 13 asked. He'd recently been assigned as the alternate night guard for Barracks Two.
"Waechter, imagine meeting you here. I was just going for a walk," Newkirk gave him a quick smile trying to come up with a way out of this mess.
"You are escaping."
"No, I was just sleep walking and found meself here."
"In those clothes? You're out of camp and out of uniform. How do you explain it?" The guard kept his rifle pointed at the Englander.
"Oh these are my night clothes. Can't expect a man to sleep in his day clothes, can ya?"
"You're night clothes is a dingy white nightshirt. Where did you get those from?"
"Well, there you go. I needed something new so I sent off for them from a mail order catalog," Newkirk answered. "What are you doing out here alone?"
"Opper is asleep against a tree trunk but I'm a more careful soldier. What's in the box?"
"I don't know, just stumbled across it," Newkirk's mind was working overtime, but not finding a good way out yet.
"I don't believe you. You're involved in sabotage and part of the underground. My boss will be interested in hearing your story," Corporal Waechter had a satisfied look on his face.
"So we should go see Colonel Klink?" Newkirk asked unsure what the German had meant.
"Why? So Colonel Hogan can bamboozle him with some made up story? Nein, my real boss, Major Hochstetter will be interrogating you," Waechter grinned.
"Major Hochstetter? You're Gestapo?" Newkirk could barely believe it.
"He sent me in undercover to as you say lay-low and observe. He was right, given enough time someone in Barracks Two would mess up. Now you have and will explain all your activities to the Major," Waechter jeered. Olsen quietly moved around behind the gestapo agent unsure if Newkirk had seen him or not. "Now I have proof that you're part of the underground. The Major will be very pleased with my work."
"You wouldn't consider talking to Colonel Klink instead would ya?"
"Nein, put the box down, and your hands above your head."
"And why would I do something like that?" Newkirk had noticed Olsen about to make a move.
"Because the alternative is that I shoot you here. Either way, everyone is Barracks Two will be in a Gestapo cell tonight. Who else is out here with you? LeBeau, Carter, or perhaps Papa Bear himself," he looked around a bit to ensure they were alone never letting his prisoner out of his line of sight.
"You've been reading too many fairy tales. Besides I told you I was sleep walkin'. Generally that's done alone mate. I'm getting mighty sleepy, think I'll head back to me bunk now," Newkirk yawned hoping to keep the guard's attention on him.
"Put your hands above your head now or I'll shoot," he reached for the handcuffs on his belt. So pleased with his catch, he was unaware of the movement behind him. At the very last second, he turned his head towards the woods behind him but it was too late. Olsen was upon him and in one swift movement broke his neck without a sound made.
"Glad you were around," Newkirk said letting out a deep breath.
"Can't leave you alone for a moment," Olsen teased as he drug the body over behind some brush. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, no worries. The Gov'nor isn't going to be happy about this," Newkirk was looking around for more trouble.
"What? His being Gestapo or that I had to kill him?"
"Both."
"True, but better than having to explain to Hochstetter," Olsen dug through his pockets. Finding what he was looking for he dropped it by the body. "Let's get out of here."
"What was that?" Newkirk asked as they made their way to camp.
"A Wehrmacht button. I was a Boy Scott, their motto was to always be prepared," Olsen answered.
"Were you expectin' trouble?"
"Always," he answered as both men continued in silence until they got back to camp. Newkirk took the supplies to the infirmary, while Olsen found Hogan near the bunk bed entrance quickly explaining what had happened.
Hogan sat down shaking his head. "Waechter was Gestapo?" He was having trouble getting his mind around it. The guard had always seemed meek, but his gut would never allow him to let his guard down around the man.
"Yes, sir, that's what he said."
"What about the body?"
"Didn't have time to hide it, but put it under some brush. If you want I can go back out and bury it," Olsen said.
"No, it's too dangerous. Hopefully with your counter-measures, they'll blame it on the Wehrmacht," Hogan replied.
"Colonel, it seems you have a lot of trouble," François said looking slightly bewildered.
"Nothing we can't handle," Hogan gave him a reassuring smile. "LeBeau, would you get our guest settled?"
"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau answered taking the scientist to where he'd stay.
"What do you want us to do?" Kinch asked, once they were alone.
"Let's try to keep François calm and not discuss it in front of him. Tomorrow we have to check out all the guards posted here in the last six months," Hogan ran a hand through his hair.
"But we checked them all out when they arrived," Olsen said.
"Obviously not well enough. We have to be sure Waechter was working alone. I want everyone to know that as of now the Germans have to be treated as hostile until we're sure what we're dealing with," Hogan ordered receiving 'yes sir' from his men. "Kinch, wake up everyone we'll need upstairs. We'll go get Carter."
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied leaving.
Hogan turned to Olsen asking. "How are you doing?"
"I'm all right sir. Not what I wanted to do but I'll be okay," Olsen answered. Killing an enemy soldier on a mission was one thing, doing it with his bare hands was another.
"If you need to talk, I'll be available."
"Thank you, sir, I appreciate that," Olsen said with a small smile as they walked into the tunnel infirmary. "Anything I can do to help?"
Wilson and Anderson had Carter on the stretcher. "No I think we pretty much have it. Sir, Paul will go back to his hut tonight and I'll stay in Barracks Two. After roll call he'll come relieve me." Hogan gave his approval as the men picked Carter up slowly making their way to the barracks entrance. Once there, they tied the stretcher to the rope lift allowing four men to pull the stretcher up safely. Waiting above was Newkirk, Kinch, Garlotti, and Baker who stabilized the stretcher and got it into the barracks. Wilson supervised moving Carter from the stretcher to his bunk.
"Did we move him gently enough?" Newkirk asked, anxiously.
"Yeah, I think so. Now we just have to wait. Why don't you get some rest, I'll stay up with him," Wilson responded reassuringly.
"That sounds like a good idea for everyone," Hogan said climbing up the ladder. He bid his men goodnight closing his door. Leaning against the bedframe, he ran a hand over his face letting out a deep sigh. This night turned into a nightmare and he didn't know what the fallout was going to be in the morning. He bent down and opened his secret stash of Scotch and took a long swig. Although he wanted another one, he knew it wasn't a good idea even if Wilson wanted to him to push fluids, so he put the cap back on it then put it in its storage spot. After changing, Hogan lay down in bed unsure if sleep would come.
Out in the main area, the men were getting ready for bed. "François seems like an all right sort of fella," Newkirk said changing into his nightshirt.
"I'm not so sure about him," LeBeau made a sour face.
"Why do you say that? Look what he did with London for Carter," Newkirk was confused.
"He seems okay, a bit traumatized but after what he's been through, would any of us be any different?" Olsen asked taking his shirt off.
"I don't know. I'm just not convinced he's trustworthy," LeBeau answered.
"Did something happen during the rescue that's bothering you?" Kinch asked pulling his nightclothes on.
"Non."
"He did a lot tonight and helped us get the rig up to bring Carter up here," Kinch defended the scientist.
"He could have done more in the car before we got here," LeBeau said.
"The man had just been rescued from the SS. No telling what he's been through over the last year while in their custody," Kinch said shaking his head.
"Still I think it's best if we keep an eye on him," LeBeau shrugged his shoulders.
"Could your worry over Carter be influencing your opinion of François?" Newkirk asked climbing up on his bunk.
"Possibly. I'm going to make sure he has everything he needs," LeBeau said climbing back down the ladder as the others lay down in their respective bunks.
Olsen turned facing the wall, and he tried to close his eyes, but all he could see was the shocked look on the face of the man he'd killed tonight during the last half second of his life. It was a sight that would haunt him for a long time. Newkirk looked across the room watching his mate facing the wall. He knew the burden Olsen carried would affect him, and only hoped he could help him lay that burden down in the days to come.