Nice afternoon to you all who read this! I am happy, I hope you are to^^

Thank you to all who read and review this! And thanks to Basketballgirl Kaitlin! You're incredible!

Now here we are:

chapter 8- fault

fault - the responsibility for something wrong that has happened or been done (source: Oxford advanced learner's dictionaries)

Hogan closed his eyes for a moment when the guard let him outside. The Gestapo officer was Newkirk. So he did come up with a plan, even one that apparently worked well. That meant... they actually had a chance to get out of this alive. They were going to survive.

All four of them were placed in the back of the truck, together with some Underground agents in Gestapo uniforms. After a short moment, Olsen jumped in and took a seat. "Stop smiling. If anybody sees you, people may begin to doubt the cruelty of the Gestapo."

They all did as they were told. They weren't out of the trouble after all.

"So what is your plan?" Hogan wanted to know.

"My plan? No, no, no; that's Newkirk's all over. And..." Olsen paused, realizing that the Colonel wasn't listening any more.

"Why doesn't Bergmann get in his car?" Hogan asked. He didn't want this man around. Bergmann meant trouble.

"He insisted to take us to the station. Newkirk couldn't talk him out of that."

"That's not good. This man is dangerously smart. If he gets suspicious, we'll..."

"Pierre can do that," LeBeau said.

Hogan looked up, opening his mouth to argue. Newkirk didn't know that man. He didn't know what Bergmann was capable of. Hogan himself just guessed about that, but…

Before he could vent his doubts, Carter spoke up. "LeBeau is right. Newkirk got us out of here, and getting us back to camp now is a piece of…"

"Would you please stop talking now? The Major's staring at us," Olsen interrupted.

Hogan leaned back, and closed his eyes. He was impressed by the faith the others seem to have in Newkirk. And although he didn't know the plan, he also believed that the Englishman would get them back to camp.

He didn't realize that they started driving already. Bergmann's car was far enough away on the dark road for him to dare to speak again. "Are you okay? Is any one of you hurt?" He asked his men. Now, as they were out and safe for the moment, he started to worry that Bergmann may have hurt one of them. They appeared to be unharmed, but he wanted to be sure. Honestly, he would blame himself for any injury his men suffered. As everyone reassured him that they were all right, he was relieved. Then he turned to Olsen. "You said we are going to the station?"

Olsen just nodded.

"Why?"

"Because we want to be seen."

That made sense. If they just disappeared, the Gestapo would surely start investigations. They definitely didn't want that. The Gestapo was no good. Hogan glanced around the truck. Well...but they made a good cover.

"Would you care to explain the whole plan?"

Olsen smiled. "You'll see."


Soon they arrived at the station. Olsen went to the station building to call Gestapo Headquarters, informing them that they were leaving so they could come and pick up the truck.

"Bring the prisoners into the train. Hurry! I want to leave."As Hogan heard Newkirk's command, he couldn't help but feel a little proud of his Englishman. The way he screamed it, loud and clear... Newkirk would indeed make a good officer, he just needed a little more faith in his own abilities now and then.

Hogan lost his track of thoughts as he was pushed into the train.

"Sorry about that. Bergmann was looking ," Olsen apologized.

"That's all right, I don't want him to get suspicious either," Hogan replied.

"Boy, you've got the whole train? How?" Carter exclaimed as Olsen removed his handcuffs.

"Oh, Andrew, it only gets better. We'll blow it."

Four pairs of eyes stared at him in disbelief. Olsen just smiled and offered them a seat.

"Okay, guys, look. It would be the best if everyone thought you're dead. So we asked London if they could arrange an air raid for tonight. They have some targets near here anyway. So if we do it right, everyone will think that the planes hit the train and we are dead. " The train started moving sometime during Olsen's explanation.

"But won't the Gestapo get suspicious? There won't be any bodies, and it would be quite a coincidence if those planes hit a train. Not even Klink would be stupid enough to buy that."

Hogan started doubting. Those are things that can be overlooked easily. Details, but very important and lethal to complex plans as this one.

"The Underground will send another unit to investigate the incident, they're doing all this phoning stuff and we deliver the faked orders. Berlin will never hear of you and Hammelburg will be satisfied…more or less."

"So...Newkirk thought of everything," Kinch announced. Hogan, too, was impressed.

"If you asked me, he's been too long with the Colonel. Blow the train we're in...could be you," Olsen said. The train slowed down, and Olsen looked at his watch. "Well, we should leave the train now."

They went to the door. Even though the train didn't go fast, the ground appeared to fly past.

"Why don't we stop? Wouldn't it be easier," Carter proposed.

"There's a street up that hill. Newkirk didn't want anyone to see the train stopping," Olsen explained. "Now jump!"

Jumping off a train wasn't half as fun as it looked like. Hogan landed hard on his shoulder as he tried to roll. He could already feel the bruises forming on his arms and back as he stood up. Then, he went to LeBeau and helped him up. They were in the forest, and the trees would give them cover, but indeed they weren't high enough to block the view on a train.

"Uh, I hate this plan. I need to talk to Pierre about his stupid ideas," LeBeau muttered. Hogan smiled. Things were already going back to normal.

After they met the others, the group walked to the road. A truck was waiting for them, along with an elderly couple. Hogan read the label on the truck: Bäckerei, meaning bakery.

"What a wonderful night for a walk," the woman said as they arrived.

"I'd prefer a ride," Olsen replied. "Red Riding Hood."

They got in the back of the truck. Once inside, Olsen closed his eyes, sat down and leaned his head against the side. "That was it."

"That was it?" Could it really be that easy to escape? Hogan wondered. He wouldn't have thought of that. But, he admitted, he wasn't in a position to set that up. Sometimes the easiest way is the best way to go. Or did it just seem easy to him? He knew how hard it was to come up with a plan, especially when everyone expected you to do so.

"We'll change. Red Riding Hood will take us most of the way to town, then we'll walk back to the camp. We'll be back for morning roll call, and you can surrender at the front gate." Olsen pointed at their uniforms that lay in one corner. "We can start right now."

"Where is Newkirk?" Kinch suddenly asked.

"He and Horst, the train driver, met with Snow White. He rechecked the timer on the explosives, that took him a while, so he left the train later and met with another nice couple. All according to plan," Olsen explained.

Somehow, Hogan felt that something wasn't right. Sure it was a good idea to have a backup check, but he'd like to know for sure that every man under his command was safe now. He was the CO. He had to take care of this. Not knowing where his men were always made him feel sick in some way, but now even more so. He didn't even know where Newkirk was supposed to be.

"Hey, don't look like that. What could happen? He's not Carter, he won't break his bones while jumping off the train," Olsen joked. The others smiled.

"Hey, I haven't broken my bones. Why would I do that?" Carter complained.

Hogan didn't listen to the conversation any more. He trusted Newkirk's plan and had faith in his abilities, but if something went wrong, it would be his fault only…not Newkirk's, his. He shouldn't get into such trouble. He should make the plans to rescue his men, not the other way around. Whether he was held captive or not, he still had the responsibility for all of his men's actions. He would blame himself if anything happened to his men or the Underground agents whilst trying to rescue him, even though it was Newkirk who made the plan. The Englishman shouldn't have been in need to think of a plan in the first place. The worst thing, Hogan realized, is that he wasn't able to influence something. He felt more like a piece of luggage that was carried to its destination. He just followed Olsen. Was that how all the prisoners they got out of Germany feel? Helpless, hoping that others make the right decision for them? Hogan hated it. He would feel so much better if he was able to do something.


It wasn't long until roll call as they arrived at Stalag 13. They needed more time than they liked to get through the forest, for the guards still searched for the four escapees.

"That's it. You go to the gate, we go back to the barracks. See you inside!" Olsen waved as he headed for the tree stump entrance.

Hogan, LeBeau, Kinch and Carter went in the opposite direction. Suddenly, they heard someone gasp. It sounded very familiar…

"Hi Schultz!" Hogan greeted the guard.

"Colonel Hogan! Am I happy to see you! Newkirk really got you back!"

"Yeah, he…"

"No!" Schultz interrupted. "I don't want to know! Just please be good boys and come back with me. It is almost time for roll call!"

When they reached the gate and finally entered the Stalag again, Hogan almost felt home. Almost, but he and his men were safe, and that was all that mattered.

"Go get the boys from barracks two for roll call!" Schultz ordered one of the guards. To Hogan, he said, "I need to take you to the big shot now, okay?"

As they walked to the Kommandantur, Hogan looked over to the men of barracks two. The guard started counting. Suddenly, Hogan froze.

"Colonel Hogan, please! Come! Don't stop!" Schultz begged. But Hogan couldn't walk now. He felt his heart beating in his breast, heavier than normal. It nearly hurt. He had a knot in his stomach.

Newkirk wasn't there.

His spot in the rows was empty. And all Hogan could think about was how this was all his fault.

fault- the feeling of having disappointed others, but especially oneself