Chapter 9:
Walters wandered around the compound in his usual routine which frightened many of the prisoners. The way he presented himself made the other men feel like he was some demonic ghost or possessed soul from the depths of Hell sent to wreak havoc on all of them. The lieutenant kept to himself as he thought out the events that had happened in less than 24 hours.
He was livid with Carter. He had made the young sergeant swear to never tell another soul and he tells that dreadful colonel he looked up to so well. Hogan was violating his position on the whole matter. Carter was his man, not Hogan's. He could not understand why Carter would look up to such a cocky, stuck up, rotten man in the first place. Hogan was weak, stupid, snotty, and above all, a pain in Walters's rear end. Hogan had to be removed, but how? He had to plan it carefully and do it at the most least expected moment. He knew Hogan had those other morons around him all the time: the snarky Englishman, the bratty Frenchman, and the African American who Walters just despised because of his race. He would deal with Carter and the other three later. For now, Hogan was his main threat and needed to be gotten rid of permanently. Walters then gave a wicked grin, realizing that if he killed Hogan, he would be the new Senior POW Officer of Stalag 13. He would have the power over the prisoners, he would be in control of them, and he could do whatever he wanted regarding the men currently under Hogan's command.
At that moment, he made a plan. He would first kill Hogan, then take over the prisoners of Stalag 13 as the new Senior POW and make them his slaves. He would make them do everything at his command. If anyone had anything to do or say about it, he would execute them the minute it happened. It was brilliant! The best plan he had ever thought of and was determined to pursue it. But where would he get a weapon from? He had a knife, but thought that was too easy for Hogan. He wanted to make the colonel suffer...slow and painfully. He glanced around the camp and spotted the German guards. They had weapons on them.
He began searching for what looked like the easiest guard to target. It was then he spotted a small, withering corporal being scolded by Schultz. He nodded and shook in fear. He wasn't even a soldier in Walters's eyes. He had to be a newbie at the POW camp.
Walters gave a malicious smile, knowing his first target in order to achieve his ultimate goal. He would wait until later in the evening when everyone had gone to bed. He would make his move then. For now, he continued walking around the camp and started plotting the rest of his twisted plan in killing Hogan and taking over as the new Senior POW.
Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter, and Kinch all sat around the table and tried to think of a plan on how to get rid of Walters once and for all without killing him off like they all wished to. Carter just wanted Walters far away from camp, but he did not want to kill the man. Like Hogan said the night before; he was sick. He was sick with a horrible, dreaded mental disorder. Walters did not know what he was doing was wrong. Part of his brain couldn't work like it was supposed to and what was worse was that there was no cure for it. It would just continue to grow worse until the lieutenant did something that could be fatal to someone else or himself for that matter. Hogan was right in punishing him in a humane way. Nobody, not even Walters, deserved to suffer under the implacable, malignant methods of the Gestapo. Especially if that Gestapo was no other than Major Wolfgang Hochstetter himself.
"I still say we kill the bastard." Newkirk hissed.
"I agree, but mon Colonel will never allow us to do it." LeBeau grumbled.
"We'll have to just find a different way to get rid of him," Kinch said.
"I'd like to pummel the man after what he's done to Andrew." Newkirk snarled.
"It's alright, guys. Besides, he doesn't know what he's doing is wrong," Carter said.
"You actually taking that ruddy bastard's side after everything he put ya through?!" Newkirk exclaimed.
"No, but it's like Colonel Hogan said; he's sick. It's not like he's doing it on purpose or anything." Carter answered, twiddling his fingers.
"André, it doesn't matter whether the filthy bosche is sick or not. He's intentionally doing these things in his mind sight. It gives him no right to be doing what he does whether he has a mental disorder or no," LeBeau said.
"Louis's right, Carter. Walters can't do that stuff whether suffering from an incurable disorder or not." Kinch added.
The young man was silent for a moment and looked down at his fingers.
"I guess you're right, Kinch," he softly said.
"Besides, Andrew. You're scared out of your mind that he's gonna try and kill the Gov'nor. If he were to succeed in killing the Gov'nor, would you be so forgiving still?" Newkirk asked.
"How could you ask such a thing?! Of course I wouldn't forgive him! No one, and I mean no one, hurts Colonel Hogan! No siree, I won't allow it to happen. I'll kill Hochstetter before that happens!"
"Looks like we all agree on something. We protect mon Colonel at all costs," LeBeau said.
"I'm all in on that one, Louis," Newkirk said.
"Make that three," Kinch said.
"Four," Carter added in.
"As much as I appreciate it, I'm afraid I disagree," a familiar voice said behind them.
The four men all turned to see Hogan standing in front of his bedroom door with his arms and legs crossed, looking at them.
"How much did you hear, Colonel?" Kinch asked.
"Enough," Hogan said. He walked over to his men and looked at all of them kindly. "Look, I think it's very kind that you guys are wanting to protect me from Walters, but I don't want any of you to go near this guy. I couldn't live with knowing he did something horrible to one of you. It's bad enough he hurt Carter like he did."
"I'd still like to know what that bastard did to me mate, Andrew." Newkirk grumbled.
Hogan looked at Carter, who looked back at him. He could read it in the sergeant's eyes and nothing more needed to be said.
"I told you guys I won't say what unless Carter says it's alright for me to do so. I won't breach such confidentiality." The colonel answered, looking at his men carefully.
"Will you be careful too, Colonel?" Carter asked worried. He could not shake the feeling that something horrible was going to happen to his commanding officer, now that he knew of his secret.
Hogan smiled gently.
"I'll be careful, Carter," he answered softly.
Carter nodded. "Good."
"Gov'nor, why don't you let one of us guard you? You're already a nuisance to the man." Newkirk wondered.
"Which is exactly why I don't want you guys to try anything without my permission nor without my presence. He might try something to get to me, and if so, I want none of you to try and stop him," Hogan ordered.
"Colonel!" Carter cried. His anxiety had immediately been brought back up again.
"Are you kidding?!" LeBeau exclaimed.
"Bloody Yank's bound to kill you, sir," Newkirk said, astonished.
"I want you all to promise me that if something happens to me, you won't try and stop it. Just do whatever you can to get rid of him afterwards...and that doesn't mean killing him." Hogan continued.
"Colonel, no! I won't let him kill you, I won't!" Carter pleaded.
"Walters isn't gonna kill me, Carter, but if it does happen, which it won't, don't interfere. I don't want any of you to get hurt or worse."
"If he manages to kill you, Gov'nor, I don't promise anything. Just that Walters better sleep with one eye open." Newkirk growled. Just imagining Walters killing Hogan made the Englishman want to murder the lieutenant.
Carter had gone completely pale and started hyperventilating.
"You alright, Andrew?" Newkirk asked, worried.
The sergeant did not answer. He snapped to look at Hogan with panic in his eyes. The last time he saw it was when Carter was terrified of Walters trying to hurt the American officer the night he was in his trance. It was different this time, though. It was an intense, overwhelming fear that was consuming him this time.
"Carter, are you alright?" Hogan asked, concerned. He was fighting back his own fear for Carter. He had never seen one of his men look like the way his youngest team member looked to him at that moment.
The young sergeant's lip quivered and continued hyperventilating. What happened next was what scared the four of them the most.
"Colonel!" Carter screamed. "Colonel!"
Hogan hurried to Carter and knelt in front of him. The young sergeant gripped onto Hogan's shoulders and locked them there.
"LeBeau, get Wilson and hurry. Tell him it's an emergency," the colonel ordered.
"Oui, Colonel," LeBeau said, and hurried out of the barracks to find the camp medic.
"Carter, you're alright. Everything's alright. I'm right here, kid. You gotta calm down, Carter. Everything's alright, I promise," Hogan softly said.
"He'll kill you. He's gonna kill you, Colonel!" Carter cried. Tears were streaming down his face.
"I'm right here, Carter. I'm not gonna die, no one's gonna kill me. I promised you that."
LeBeau and Wilson hurried back into the barracks. Hogan turned his head to look at them.
"Joe, do something, please."
"Just keep talking to him, Colonel. He'll calm down on his own eventually. If he doesn't, I'll give him a sedative to make him sleep," Wilson said.
Hogan nodded and went back to comforting Carter in any way he could.
"We're all right here, Carter: me, LeBeau, Newkirk, Kinch, and Wilson. We're all alright. I'm not gonna let Walters hurt you anymore. I'm gonna be just fine. You're alright, Carter, I promise."
It felt like hours to all of them, but Carter eventually slowed his breathing and loosened his grip on Hogan's shoulders. His face went back to normal, but his tears did not stop.
"Colonel, please don't die, please! I can't lose you, Colonel, please don't die, please!" Carter begged.
"I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. I swear on my oath as an officer."
Carter silently wept a little, though tried wiping his tears away.
Hogan got to his feet, sat down besides Carter, and wrapped an arm around his young sergeant.
"It's alright. I'm just fine," he said, giving a soft smile.
Carter nodded and let out a deep breath.
"What the bloody hell just happened, Joe?" Newkirk gasped.
"A panic attack. It's common when someone is exposed to a paralyzing fear of theirs or remembering a traumatic event." Wilson answered.
"Is it bad, Joe?" Hogan asked, worried.
"No, just very uncomfortable is all. Some can be worse than others."
"I don't get it, Colonel," Carter said meekly. Hogan turned to look at him. "That's never happened to me before. Why did it start now?"
Wilson could not help but give a small smile.
"It just shows you how much Colonel Hogan means to you, Carter. In your mind, losing him is basically destroying you from the inside out."
"It looks bloody terrifying," Newkirk said.
"It is terrifying, Newkirk. It's a sudden attack of intense fear that causes high amounts of adrenaline to be pumped into the blood, which causes a panic attack to be worse than it actually is. Nothing life threatening, but certainly frightening to experience. More for the person suffering from it than the ones witnessing it." Wilson replied.
"But he'll be alright?" Hogan wanted confirming.
"Yes, Carter will be alright. Just try and stay away from the topic that scares him as much as possible."
"That's gonna be hard considering we have to get rid of Walters," Kinch said.
"Discussing the idea of getting Walters out of Stalag 13 is one thing; it's the reason why you're getting rid of him that should remain unspoken of as much as possible," Wilson informed Hogan's second in command.
"Thanks, Joe," Newkirk said, relieved.
Wilson nodded and left the barracks, closing the door behind him.
"Are you alright, kid?" Kinch asked softly.
"I'm alright, Kinch," Carter said, sighing. "Just tired."
"I wouldn't blame ya. That looked awful, mate." Newkirk replied.
"I'm gonna go show that filthy bosche what happens when you mess with mes amis." LeBeau hissed.
"I told you no one is gonna mess with Walters unless given strict orders, do I make myself clear?" Hogan asked harsh.
Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk sighed.
"Yes, Colonel," the three sadly said.
"So...how do we get rid of him, Colonel?" Carter asked.
Hogan sighed heavily.
"Carter, when I think of that answer, I'll let you know," he said, tired.
It was late that night, and after everyone had gone to bed, Walters rose from his bunk. He was still dressed in his uniform and quietly made his way towards the door. Checking the area once more for anyone watching him, he left the barracks.
LeBeau, faking to be asleep, opened his eyes, hearing the door to the barracks close, and jumped down onto the ground. He made his way over to the window near his bunk and wiped away a patch of condensation on the window to look out into the compound. He saw Walters wandering around, but could not figure out what he was doing. After watching him for a moment, he gasped softly, realizing what the man was about to do.
Stealthily making his way out of the sight of any Germans, Walters made his way to the Kommandantur's where the same corporal Schultz had been scolding earlier was keeping guard from anyone breaking in. The young corporal started walking around the building to make sure all perimeters were clear of any intruders. He was glancing over the corner of the building, when Walters covered the corporal's mouth and took him behind the Kommandantur's, away from anyone to watch the two of them. The young German corporal was screaming for help, though being muffled, did not attract any attention.
Walters took out his knife with his free hand and swung it down at the corporal. The young man gave another muffled scream, then fell silent.