Chapter 13:
"Oh, Colonel. Please don't say that!" Carter begged.
"It's a thought, Carter. It could be true," Hogan said.
"Oh, why did I have to go and open my mouth? Now I really am scared!"
"The main thing here is to stay calm and not get ourselves into a panic. It won't do the situation any good."
"Do you want me to tell the guys about just observing Walters for a few days?" Kinch asked.
"Yeah, that'll help, Kinch." Hogan answered.
Kinch nodded and left Hogan's room.
"Colonel, please tell me I'm wrong. If something bad happens to you, I'll never forgive myself. Never!" Carter spoke, shaky.
"I don't know, Carter. That feeling could very well mean something, but I don't know. I'm sorry. I do promise you, though, that I'm gonna be just fine." Hogan answered friendly.
Carter gulped.
"I sure hope you're right, Colonel...because I definitely am not feeling it right now."
Hogan patted Carter's arm gently, then the two of them walked out of Hogan's quarters and made their way to the table with the rest of the guys.
"Kinch told us the plans, sir," Newkirk said, seeing Hogan.
"Good. Starting as of now, we all keep a watch on Walters. We need to know what makes him motivated in order to pull this off effectively," Hogan said firmly.
"Yes, Colonel," all of them said.
"What do you want us to watch for specifically, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.
"Everything. I wanna know this guy from the inside out." Hogan answered.
"Oui, Colonel."
"If you guys need me, I'm in my office."
Hogan turned around and headed back to his quarters. He gently closed the door behind him leaving his men in the main area.
"I don't know why we don't just kill the filthy bosche and get it all over with already." LeBeau grumbled to himself.
"You heard the Colonel; no one's killing anybody unless it's in self defense," Kinch said.
"He makes this a lot harder than it needs to be."
"Alright, you kill Walters and tell us how it goes," Newkirk said, smart like.
LeBeau gave Newkirk a smug look, then went back to Kinch.
"Guys...what if Walters succeeds with his plan? What do we do without Colonel Hogan?" Carter asked, shaking softly.
"Nothing's gonna happen to Colonel Hogan, Carter," Kinch reassured.
"Could someone just answer that question for once?! What happens if Colonel Hogan dies?!"
Kinch sighed sadly.
"If Colonel Hogan dies, which he won't, we'll go from there."
"Mon Colonel better not die. If he leaves us with Monsieur Bosche, I might ask myself personally to be taken to Gestapo Headquarters." LeBeau responded.
"You'd rather spend time with Hochstetter than put up with Walters, Louis?" Newkirk asked, shocked.
"Hochstetter's not anywhere near as cruel as Walters is," Carter softly said.
Kinch raised his eyebrows. He was in complete shock at what Carter had just said. Someone worse than Hochstetter? That had to take a huge effort to accomplish.
"Whoa," Kinch said. "Walters sure did do something bad to you, if you think Hochstetter's better than he is."
Carter did not answer. He looked back at his thumbs and avoided any eye contact with the others.
"You wanna talk about it, mate?" Newkirk asked softly.
Carter shook his head.
"No, not yet...I'm just not ready is all...and with Colonel Hogan already knowing, I'm nervous enough as it is." The young sergeant answered.
"Fair enough," Newkirk said.
"I just can't help but wonder what it was Walters did to you, mon ami," LeBeau said.
"You don't wanna know, Louis," Carter softly said.
Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau exchanged worried looks with one another, then back at Carter. Whatever Carter had gone through with Walters, it had to have been the biggest nightmare he had ever witnessed.
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully besides the guys keeping careful eye on Walters. After dinner went by, Hogan stood and watched the guys sit at the table playing a game of gin. The window next to the sink was open, letting in a nice, gentle evening breeze to cool them from the humidity in the barracks. At the moment, LeBeau was winning.
"Blimey, Louis. How are ya beating me at this with me own special deck?!" Newkirk wondered.
"Looks like your cards are wearing out on you, Newkirk," Kinch said, smiling.
"Impossible. This deck shouldn't be having a problem whatsoever."
Carter lay down a card, then turned his head to Newkirk.
"Your turn, buddy," he said.
Newkirk thought for a little while at what card to lay down. He had to beat LeBeau and keep his title as gin champ. After a while, the Englishman smiled, put down a card, and chuckled to himself.
"Looks like Ol' Newkirk's gonna take the win home again, as always!" He spoke smiling.
LeBeau chuckled to himself and lay down his hand.
"Gin," the little Frenchman said, cunning.
"How?!" Newkirk cried.
Carter and Kinch threw their hands in, then smiled at Newkirk.
"Boy, Newkirk. Looks like you got beat by your own deck of cards!" Carter cried.
"Bloody joking me. I could've sworn that deck was ruddy full proofed!" The Englishman grumbled to himself.
"Maybe some other time, Newkirk," Hogan said, smiling softly.
"And it won't be with you around," a voice snarled from behind Hogan.
The American colonel felt something pressed to the back of his head. He turned around and was surprised to see what was in front of him. It was Walters standing there with a possessed look over him, holding a pistol at his head.
Hogan and all of his men shot to their feet. Unlike Hogan, the rest of them were filled with adrenaline pumping through their veins, fear for their commanding officer...especially Carter. The four of them all tried reaching for their handguns, when the voice of Walters stopped them.
"Try to pull one of your pistols out, I'll shoot this Colonel Hogan leech so fast, you won't know what happened."
The four left their guns where they were and glared with venom in their eyes at Walters.
"Where...where...where did you get that?" Carter stuttered.
Walters snickered sinisterly.
"Let's just say a friend let me borrow it from him," the lieutenant said maliciously.
Hogan glared at Walters coldly.
"So it was you who killed Corporal Mueller," he said icily.
"Well, lookie here. Looks like you aren't as stupid as I thought you were after all," Walters said coolly.
"Why you little-" Newkirk was quickly restrained by Kinch. The Englishman turned to look at him, who gave him a warning look. Newkirk settled down and went back to giving a death glare at Walters.
"Lieutenant...put the gun down," Hogan said calmly.
"No, I don't think I want to," Walters answered.
"Mon Colonel's done nothing to you!" LeBeau snarled.
"That's where you're wrong, Frenchman. This man's done enough to me." Walters growled back.
"Name one thing I've done to you since your arrival here to Stalag 13," Hogan challenged.
"You know exactly what you've done, Colonel," Walters said harshly. It was then he turned to Carter. "I heard you tell him, Sergeant. I was outside the window the night you told him. For that, you must be punished."
"What did he do, Andrew?" Newkirk asked, turning to Carter.
"You have to tell us now, André," LeBeau pleaded.
"You talk, Rat, and I'll kill them along with your Colonel here," Walters warned.
"No, let Colonel Hogan go! He didn't do anything wrong, I'm the one who cracked. Punish me instead!" Carter bargained.
"Carter, stay out of this." Hogan ordered.
"Colonel, I can't let him do that to you! Please, Colonel, let me take the bullet!"
"Let Colonel Hogan go now!" LeBeau demanded.
"I don't know what you did to me mate, Andrew, but it's sick what you're doing to him now." Newkirk snarled.
Kinch simply looked disgusted at Walters.
"Let Colonel Hogan go, please, Lieutenant! I swear, he won't tell anybody! Not a single word!" Carter tried persuading Walters. He was hoping that the lieutenant would miraculously give in and let Hogan free.
"I'd kill him whether you squealed on me or not. Either way, he'll die. He's in the way of my men." Walters answered.
"They're my men! Not yours!" Hogan barked.
"Not for much longer, they aren't." Walters spoke subtly.
"You lay one hand on the Gov'nor, and I'll wring your bleedin' neck!" Newkirk hissed.
"And what are you gonna do if I do decide to lay a hand on him, ah?" Walters snapped back. He fixed his gun at Hogan's belly and kept it steady. He had no problem with making a wrong shot. The lieutenant was known in his old bombing squadron for his gifted aiming skills. He never missed a shot. Not one.
Newkirk wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut. Usually, he would've let whatever it was to come out of his mouth. However, knowing how unstable Walters could be mentally at some points, he decided to overlook it this one time. He did not want to risk putting Hogan in any more danger than he was already in.
"Lieutenant, please, let Colonel Hogan go," Carter said meekly. "Please!"
Walters eyed the men in the room, as if considering listening to their desperation. It felt good to hear them beg...really good. He smirked, then shot Hogan twice in the abdomen.
The colonel collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching his belly.
"Colonel!" His men cried. The four of them all hurried over to Hogan and knelt down besides him.
"Louis, get Wilson! Hurry," Kinch ordered.
"Right away," LeBeau said, and hurried out the door.
Kinch handed Newkirk a towel and the Englishman began to press down on Hogan's wound to try and stop the bleeding. The towel was turning red quickly.
Walters hid the gun back in his jacket and was heard cackling in the background.
"Look at your new Senior POW Officer, Stalag 13! I'm gonna make pigs out of you weaklings!" Walters laughed.
"Colonel Hogan's gonna survive this! I know he will!" Carter cried, determined. Tears were streaming down his face. He could not lose Hogan. It would kill him.
"Add more pressure, Newkirk," Kinch ordered, a hint of panic in his voice.
"He's bleeding a lot, mate!" Newkirk cried.
Hogan continued gasping for air. He held his belly tighter, as the pain got stronger.
"Come on, Colonel," Carter said, holding Hogan's left hand. "You got it, buddy. Just hold on a little longer. Wilson's coming, Colonel. He'll be here real soon."
"He'll be here too late, sonny." Walters spoke coolly.
As Newkirk was about to comment and give the lieutenant a piece of his mind, the door opened. Klink and Schultz hurried inside with Langenscheidt and two privates.
"What's going on here?!" Klink bellowed.
Schultz gasped at the sight he saw.
"Colonel Hogan!" He cried.
Hogan gasped for air, then his eyes rolled back, as he slipped into unconsciousness.
"No, Colonel, hold on! Don't leave us, Colonel, just hold on a little longer, please, Colonel!" Carter croaked.
"Kinch, he's not breathing," Newkirk said shakily.
Klink turned to see Hogan on the ground.
"Hogan!" He gasped.
"I'll tell you what's going on here. One of your men went trigger happy and shot Colonel Hogan right through the window." Walters hissed.
Newkirk and Kinch started arguing with Walters's statement.
"He's a bloody liar, Kommandant!" Newkirk gnashed.
"He's the one who shot Colonel Hogan!"
"Silence!" Klink ordered loudly.
Wilson and LeBeau rushed into the barracks. LeBeau sat the gurney down on the ground, as Wilson got besides Hogan's side and looked at Kinch.
"He's not breathing, Wilson," Newkirk reported, frantic.
Wilson took his stethoscope and listen to Hogan's heart beat. It was there, but it was weak. The camp medic started doing chest compressions.
"Come on, Colonel. Don't quit on us now," Wilson muttered.
With no one looking, Walters gave a smug smile and switched his gun with the one guard, a private, closest to him. If he got Klink to believe what he said was true, all the guards would be searched and the private would be caught with the gun that was fired and shot Hogan. He thought his plan was genius.
"You gotta believe us, Kommandant! That bloody bastard shot the Gov'nor! We all saw him do it," Newkirk stated.
"Corporal Langenscheidt, have you and the men search Lieutenant Walters for a handgun," Klink ordered.
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Langenscheidt said. He glared at the lieutenant. He was sure Walters shot Hogan. He was not fond of the lieutenant and was outraged knowing Walters was more than likely the one who did it. He liked Hogan and his friends and would do everything he possibly could to protect any of them. "Privates, search him!"
The privates nodded and searched Walters, who was smiling the whole time.
"Come on, Colonel, breathe." Carter begged.
Wilson continued doing chest compressions and CPR, until Hogan's chest started to lightly fall and rise. It was barely noticeable. Wilson took his stethoscope and listened again to Hogan's vitals.
"He's breathing, but barely. I have to get him to the infirmary immediately. He needs an operation, or he'll die," Wilson said.
Kinch and Wilson both helped Hogan get onto the gurney.
After a very thorough search, the privates shook their heads and turned to Langenscheidt, Schultz, and Klink.
"I'm sorry, Herr Kommandant," Private Webber said. "We can't find any handgun."
"He has it, Kommandant! I saw it!" LeBeau wailed.
"He shot the Gov'nor with his own bloody hands!" Newkirk exclaimed.
"Silence! If my guards say they did not find any gun on Lieutenant Walters, then I must believe their findings. Private Webber. Private Schneider. Take Colonel Hogan to the infirmary for immediate medical attention." The kommandant ordered.
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schneider said softly.
Both privates made their way over towards Hogan, picked up the gurney carefully, and hurried off towards the infirmary.
After they were gone, Klink gulped at the realization of what had to happen next. "Considering the current condition of Colonel Hogan, until he either recovers or...succumbs to his injuries, I officially make you, Lieutenant Walters, temporary Senior POW Officer."
"NO!" Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter cried.
"Kommandant, I promise you I will not let you down," Walters said, lying through his teeth.
"He's lying, Kommandant! He'll destroy this entire camp!" Newkirk exclaimed.
"I want him arrested!" LeBeau shouted.
"He is the next highest ranking officer in this camp, gentlemen," Klink said. He then sighed and looked at Hogan's men softly. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but it must be done."
The four men started yelling and bantering, demanding that Walters be locked up, arrested, shot, or taken to Gestapo Headquarters and interrogated by Hochstetter and his fellow demon squad.
"Quiet!" Klink hollered over them. "Next one that talks out of line gets sixty days in the cooler, do you understand?!"
They let out a heavy, uneasy breath, their eyes blazing with fire. They resembled four bulls about ready to charge at the matador.
"Yes, Kom-man-dant," they said, sharp.
The German colonel turned his attention to his sergeant of the guard.
"Schultz, you and Corporal Langenscheidt get into my office and wait for me to call for an investigation and start interrogation of all the guards! I want to know who shot Colonel Hogan, and I want to know now," Klink demanded.
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant! It shall be done!" Schultz replied.
Both he and Langenscheidt hurried out of the barracks.
Klink held up his fist, moaned, and stormed off.
"Alright, ya bloody bastard. Where'd you stash that gun?" Newkirk hissed, crossing his arms.
Walters pulled the Luftwaffe private's gun out from his jacket pocket with a crooked smile.
"Secret compartment in my jacket. How else do you think I smuggled in a firearm into Gestapo Headquarters? Had it not been for that short little devil monkey, Hochstetter, I'd still have my handgun. Besides, once they find the gun I swapped with Private Schneider's, Klink will instantly forget all about little old me."
"You twisted bastard, if Colonel Hogan dies, I'm putting a bullet into your head!" Newkirk growled.
"I'm currently Senior POW Officer. If you shot me, it would only lead suspicion to you and your friends here. Now, where would Klink expect a prisoner to get his grasp on a gun, huh," Walters said, smug.
Newkirk grinded his jaw and fought back from losing his temper. He was just about ready to pound the living hell out of Walters: beat him, strangle him, scalp him, every amount of physical trauma he was capable of causing. Had it not been for Kinch standing by and watching them, he would have gone homicidal already. After another glare at the lieutenant, he diverted his eyes to the camp medic.
Wilson rose to his feet and started hurrying to the infirmary.
"Joe," Kinch said.
Wilson turned around briefly.
"Is Colonel Hogan gonna be alright?"
The camp medic sighed.
"I don't know, Kinch. I really don't know."
He and Hogan's men all hurried to the infirmary. Once they got there, the waiting game would begin.