Hey there! Thanks to everyone who is still reading this stuff! I hope you'll like this one... it is nearly finished. Just this chapter and the epilogue.

A huge thanks to Basketballgirl Kaitlin, for being such a patient and great beta, and to everyone who reads and reviews this!

And now...have fun!

chapter 9- home

home- the house or flat/apartment that you live in, especially with your family (source:Oxford advanced learner's dictionaries

The first thing Newkirk noticed was that Bergmann laid next to him. The second thing was that he hadn't been shot. A look around told him that in fact, no one had been.

Horst knelt down next to Newkirk. "Are you okay?" He asked.

Newkirk took a second to think about it. His hand hurt, and he couldn't move his thumb. So the bang he had heard wasn't a shot at all but his tendon that had torn. "You hit him unconscious," he said instead of an answer. There was no need to make Horst feel bad about that. Besides, they had to get out of the train.

"I had to. He was about to shoot you! Can you get up?"

"Yeah, I'm all right. Take his gun!" Newkirk quickly added while taking his own pistol. Bergmann moaned and opened his eyes just to meet the business end of Newkirk's gun. It felt unfamiliar to hold it in his left hand, but what could he do?

"Get up now, would you?" Newkirk grinned. Bergmann shot a deadly glare at him, but did as he was told.

"We should have left the train already," Horst reminded him.

"Then we should leave now."

Bergmann was about to say something, but thought better of it as Horst and Newkirk both aimed at him.

"You don't by any chance have handcuffs with you, do you?" Newkirk asked. Horst shook his head. A short glance at Bergmann told Newkirk that the Major had no cuffs with him either. The easiest way would be to simply shoot the German, but he was no murderer. Somehow, Bergmann must be brought to England.

"You jump first, and he'll follow you. I'll go last," Newkirk decided. So Horst jumped. Newkirk pushed Bergmann off the train and followed. While he fell, he suddenly thought of everything that could go wrong now. He should have hit Bergmann unconscious so he couldn't escape.

The impact was harder than he thought. But again, everything had seemed easier while he was still planning this mission. Why don't things ever go as planned? Not for the first time this night, he wished to be back home in England without the war and the daily struggle as a POW. But he had a job to do and therefore definitely had to get on his feet now. He walked to where Bergmann was about to get on his feet. The Major looked to the woods.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere!" Newkirk aimed at Bergmann. He didn't doubt that the German was perfectly able to beat him in a fair fight, especially in his condition. He was shocked when he realized that his hand was shaking.

"You couldn't even take a shot," Bergmann said, what Newkirk himself was thinking.

"But I can. So be a nice fella and move," Horst said.

The group walked through the dark forest, just stopping once as they heard planes nearby and shortly followed by the sound of bombs hitting their targets and of a train blown up by its own passengers. Bergmann looked shocked, Horst smiled proudly and Newkirk sighed.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Horst asked concerned.

Newkirk began to walk a bit faster. "Roll call is in 90 minutes. We just need to hurry a bit."

The few minutes they had spend longer than intended on the train messed up the whole timetable. Timing was the most important thing on a mission, shortly followed by having a plan B for all possible contingencies. Newkirk had managed to fail at both. He just hope that he would make roll call.

In the end, it was a good decision not to hit Bergmann unconscious. Carrying the Major through the woods would have cost them a lot more time. Despite that, they were more than half an hour late when they finally met Snow White.

"It is very late for a pause in the forest," Newkirk said.

"We were enjoying the sight of the moon," Snow White answered, quoting the code Newkirk had sent to the Underground. "You are late. And you brought a guest," the man wondered.

"It is a bit complicated," Newkirk shrugged. "We're in a hurry, so can we just get going?" No more words had to be said. The man started the engine while Horst, Bergmann and Newkirk got into the back of the truck. Newkirk watched Bergmann sit down in one corner.

"Why are you staring at me?" The Major asked coldly.

"I decide what to do with you," Newkirk replied and turned to Horst. "Do you know a place where we can hide him?"

Horst thought for a moment and then slowly nodded.

"The next escaping prisoners can take him with them," Newkirk decided. Then he grabbed his uniform and began to change. When he laced his boots, he realized that his hands weren't shaking any more. But it was nearly impossible for him to lace his boots without his right thumb.

"You are a POW."

Newkirk looked at Bergmann and smiled. "Everyone needs a hobby. Life in a POW camp can get really boring, you know?" He looked at his watch. "Blimey, I'll have to run through the forest to get back in time."

"Without your boots laced, you are just going to break your neck. And with Papa Bear in the cooler, we cannot afford to lose Baby Bear as well." Horst knelt down and laced Newkirk's boots.

"Would you please stop calling me that?" He honestly didn't feel as if he deserved this name. He was...what was he? He shook his head, trying to forget that question. He needed to focus. And maybe, he was a little bit scared of the answer.

Newkirk knew it was reckless, or better said, stupid to run through the forest like he did with all the guards around. He also knew that roll call was in two minutes. He had thought of getting captured, but Horst was right; at least one of the core team had to be in the barracks all the time.

He reached the tree stump and climbed into the tunnel. The stale air filled his lungs with its familiar smell. He went to the ladder and carefully listened if any guard was in the barracks, cursing as he realized that no one was up there at all. He got into the barracks and hurried outside.

"Where have you been?!" The guard yelled at him angrily.

"I'm sorry. I got used to Schultz waking us up before roll call to get dressed," Newkirk answered, too tired to think of a cocky remark. Just as he saw Hogan, he felt a bit better. The Colonel smiled at him, and Olsen placed a hand on his shoulder. The best feeling in the world, Newkirk decided, is watching things finally fall in place after watching them fall apart for so long.

Klink came out of the Kommandantur, nearly falling over the steps when he saw Schultz with the four missing prisoners.

"Colonel Hooooogaaaaaan! Where have you been?"

"Oh, we just left Nürnberg when I realized we had the wrong map. Maybe you could use a map of Stalingrad?"

"Hogan!"

Hogan shrugged. "Just asking,"

Klink glared at him. "Schultz, take these men to the cooler. They will spend the next three months in there!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" Schultz saluted and then he went off to the cooler, chatting with Hogan and the others.

Klink turned to the guard. "Report!"

"All prisoners presented and accounted for, Herr Kommandant!" The guard yelled, making Newkirk wonder if this guard was even able to speak in a normal volume.

Klink looked at the men of barracks two. Newkirk fully expected him to have a speech about the greatness of Germany on average and of Stalag 13 in particular, but was relieved when Klink just dismissed them.

When Newkirk entered the barracks again, he felt all eyes on him but didn't mind this time. He was just glad to be home.

home- where you belong to