Chapter 17:
A few days went by, and Hogan was still unresponsive to treatment. Wilson was beginning to grow worried about Hogan's health and the blood clot in his lungs. He had increased the dosage of urokinase he was giving and now had to wait and see how it handled things. For the moment, nothing was happening, which concerned the camp medic.
Walters wandered around outside in the compound and walked by the infirmary several times as close as he could get. He was still irritated with the fact that he was forbidden to go anywhere near the place. He had no doubt in his mind that Carter and his tag along crew were behind all of this. He'd give his technical sergeant a piece of his mind later. For now, he had to find a way to get past the guards and into the building in order for part one of his plan to succeed. The lieutenant could not help but smirk looking down at his jacket pocket. He patted it gently, pleased with his work. What he had inside his jacket pocket would be the end of Colonel Robert Hogan, and be the beginning of a glorious start to his reign of power at Stalag 13. Once Colonel Hogan was rid of, it would only leave one rat for him to kill, and he was a hundred percent positive that Klink would be no match compared to him.
The lieutenant wondered if the infirmary possibly had a back door that was unguarded. If it were true, his plan would still be easy to carry out. Curious, he made his way around back within given distance and reached the front of another barracks. Walters craned his neck to see what he could make out. He gave a wicked grin seeing that there was, in fact, a back door to the infirmary, and it was unguarded. Walters gave a low, malice chuckle to himself and shook his head.
"You better hope to have that camp medic around you, Colonel Hogan. After today, you won't be a problem to me anymore," Walters said to himself.
The lieutenant turned around back in his original direction and resumed his walk around camp.
It was mid afternoon to early evening, and most of the prisoners were in the mess hall eating dinner or in their barracks. Walters found it the perfect opportunity to carry out his attack. With caution, he approached the back door of the infirmary and silently opened it a crack to check if the coast was clear. Sure that no one was around, Walters slipped inside and closed the door behind him without a sound.
The lieutenant made his way down the hallway silently and peered around the corner to see if anyone was in the main area of the infirmary. No sign of any unwanted visitors. Walters spotted his victim and gave a sinister look at the man. Knowing Hogan would die slowly would be enough satisfaction for him. He made his way stealthily towards the ailing patient and once finally reaching him, stood over Hogan and looked at him observantly.
The colonel was sickly pale. His eyelids were black, his belly swollen from his injuries and the operation, and was still as a statue.
"Well, well...well," Walters started. "Looks like I'm getting the last laugh on this one, Colonel. And it's too bad you won't get to watch. What a shame. It would be quite the show...for me, that is."
The lieutenant chuckled to himself and pulled out a syringe from his jacket pocket. In it was a clear, light pink liquid.
"Frankly, sir, you have made this far too easy for me. So, from all of us at Stalag 13, goodbye, Colonel Hogan."
Walters took the syringe and injected the contents into Hogan's IV bag. He was finishing up on his job when the doors to the infirmary opened. It was Carter. Anxiety and guilt hadn't left the sergeant with much of an appetite, and he had left the mess prematurely to sit at his commanding officer's bedside.
"Hey, Colonel. I'm back again, and I…" the young sergeant gasped, seeing Walters injecting something into Hogan's IV. "Get away from Colonel Hogan! How did you even get in here anyways?! There are two guards on duty outside!"
Carter ran towards Walters and grabbed his right arm tightly to try and pull him away from hurting his commanding officer anymore than he had already had.
Being the man he was, Walters was able to roughly shake off the young sergeant, sending him to the ground on his back. Carter sat up and shook his head a few times to shake off the cobwebs. He looked up and gasped. Walters was hovering over him with a possessed look in his eyes. The lieutenant gawked at him; it looked like he would strangle him at any minute.
The young sergeant swallowed a lump in his throat and tried to scream for help, but nothing came out of his mouth. So this was how he would die, he thought. At least he did it trying to save Hogan from dying instead. Right as he thought Walters would go in for the kill, the door opened again. Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau entered into the infirmary.
"How is he, Car…" Kinch paused and gaped at what he saw. Newkirk and LeBeau followed suit.
"Get away from him!" Newkirk bellowed.
Kinch hurried toward Carter to make sure he was alright.
Newkirk and LeBeau went in to grab Walters, but the lieutenant was too quick for them, and hurried out the way he came in, almost running over Wilson. The camp medic shot his head towards Walters, then back to the sight in front of him.
"What just happened," Wilson ordered.
Carter shook Kinch off gently and hurried to Hogan. He grabbed the syringe Walters had used and shook looking at it.
"Joe...I think Walters gave Colonel Hogan something," he quivered.
Wilson hurried over and took the syringe from Carter. He opened it, smelled the inside of it, and coughed at the strong smell. Once it wore off, the camp medic became angry.
"Meth," he hissed.
"What, Joe?" Kinch asked.
"Methamphetamine. I know that's what Walters gave the Colonel. It's a drug that can be made with common household items, and has the smell of ammonia if made illegally." Wilson had Carter sniff the syringe. The young sergeant took one slight sniff and nearly collapsed again. He coughed viciously and wiped his nose, trying to rid it of the scent he had just smelled.
"Oh boy. That smells awful!" Carter cried, covering his nose.
Wilson snapped his head back to Hogan and immediately started to listen to his heart beat.
"That syringe was filled up to the brim. I think Walters may have tried to kill the Colonel with an overdose." He continued, listening for anything irregular.
"That bleedin' bastard! Where did he go?!" Newkirk snapped, punching his palm.
"How did he get in?" LeBeau asked.
Kinch let out a breath of frustration and hung his head back.
"I forgot about the back door," the radioman spoke, ashamed of himself.
Newkirk snapped his fingers, while shaking his head.
"Damn it. How did we overlook that one?" The Englishman grumbled.
"LeBeau, get Garlotti and Olsen. Tell them to guard the back door of any unwanted visitors. Starting now, neither the front door nor the back door is left unguarded," Kinch ordered firmly.
"Oui, Kinch," LeBeau said, and hurried off to barracks two.
Wilson rapidly put his stethoscope aside and hurried to find medication and water. He hurried back to Hogan's side and started injecting the syringes into the IV hooked up to the commanding officer.
"What's wrong with him?!" Carter cried.
"His heart's beating rapidly. Dangerously close to going into overdrive and causing heart failure. I've gotta get some medicine and fluids into him to try and stop it." Wilson answered, trying to hide his panic.
"Come on, Gov'nor! Hold on there!" Newkirk pleaded.
Wilson picked up his stethoscope again and checked Hogan's vitals. After about three minutes, he sighed with relief and wrapped the stethoscope around his neck.
"His heart rate is slowing down. He should be fine now."
All three of Hogan's men finally let out a breath, hearing the news.
"Thank you, God." Newkirk sighed.
LeBeau returned and hurried to his friends.
"How is he?" The little Frenchman asked.
"He'll be fine regarding the overdose Walters tried to give him." Wilson answered. The camp medic fell strangely quiet after that.
"What is it, Joe?" Kinch asked, worried.
Wilson gestured towards the front of the infirmary away from his patient. Hogan's men followed, and once reaching the front, gave the medic their full attention.
"What's wrong, mon ami?" LeBeau asked, concerned.
Wilson looked at all of them with sympathy in his eyes.
"Colonel Hogan is not responding to the medicine I've been giving him for the past four days...he's not getting better, and he's not getting worse. I'm afraid I have done all I can do for him." He spoke softly.
"Joe, tell me you're joking, mate!" Newkirk pleaded.
Wilson sighed heavily.
"I can not treat him anymore here. There's a hospital in Berlin that has better medicine and treatment options for the Colonel. I strongly recommend having him transferred there to receive better quality care. His outcome is not good as of now, but perhaps by sending him somewhere else with better facilities and equipment, it could be raised."
"You mean...you mean to send mon Colonel away? Where we may never see him again?" LeBeau asked shakily.
Wilson was silent for a long while.
"I'm sorry, Louis...but he's only going to get worse unless treated in a better medical facility where he has a higher chance at surviving. If you all care for Colonel Hogan as much as I know you guys do, you'll allow the transfer to happen. I will not suggest it to Klink, unless all four of you agree."
"No...no! No, I won't let you send him away!" Carter protested. He hurried off to Hogan's side, leaving Kinch, his friends with Wilson.
"He'd have a better chance at getting well, if we send him to Berlin, Kinch," Newkirk said.
"Oui," LeBeau said. "I hate the thought of losing mon Colonel, but it's what's best for him."
"I agree...and we've gotta get Carter to see that, too." Kinch spoke to his friends.
"What are we gonna do, mate?" Newkirk asked sadly.
Kinch looked off to see Carter sitting on Hogan's right, watching him.
"Let me try talking to him. I might get him to see it our way." He answered. The radioman left his friends and made his way slowly over to Carter. When he reached him, he sat down beside his commanding officer and looked at him briefly.
Hogan's condition had not changed a bit. He looked just as bad as he did the night Walters shot him. It made Kinch wonder if he would ever have another conversation with his commander again. Would any of them ever hear his voice again? See him smile, hear his laughter that was so full of life. He sighed silently and tried to find the words to say to Carter and make him see it their way.
"I'm not letting him leave, Kinch." The young sergeant croaked, his voice shaky.
"Carter, Colonel Hogan's not gonna get any better here. There's nothing more Wilson can do for him."
"He's gonna come back to us, Kinch. I know he will. He's done it before, he's been in worse situations than this."
"Richard has a colleague in Berlin that works with the underground. He can help the Colonel have a chance in surviving through this, Carter. He needs this. Don't you want that?"
"He needs us! He'll feel like we abandoned him."
"No, he won't. In fact, I think Colonel Hogan would do the same, if it were one of us instead of him."
Carter shuddered.
"I'm gonna miss him, Kinch...so, so much."
"I know. We're all gonna miss him, Carter."
"Will we ever see him again?"
The radioman fell silent for a moment before answering.
"I don't know, Andrew. I can't answer that. All I know is we all want what's best for the Colonel. We all want him to get the best chance possible of surviving, waking up, and coming back to us again. I'm pretty confident Klink will permit us to travel to Berlin and visit him from time to time...we've gotta say 'goodbye', Carter. He wouldn't wanna spend his life like this."
Carter looked back at Hogan again and let tears stream down his face.
"Colonel...I'm gonna miss you so much." He quivered. He wrapped his arms around Hogan and hugged him tight. He wanted to commint to memory as much of his commanding officer as possible. His hugs, his smell of cologne and shaving cream, his black hair. If Walters had succeeded with his plan, and Hogan died, he wanted to remember him as best as he could.
Kinch reached over and rubbed his friend's arm. There was nothing more he wanted to do at that moment than find a way to bring Hogan back to them, and together find a way to get rid of Walters. For now, and maybe forever, they would have to pull through as a group of four.
LeBeau, Newkirk, and Wilson walked over slowly towards Kinch and Carter.
The radioman looked up at Wilson and nodded.
"We want him transferred, Joe," Kinch softly said.
Wilson nodded.
"I will let Kommandant Klink know immediately. You guys say your goodbyes. I want Colonel Hogan on his way to Berlin later tonight." He looked at all four of Hogan's men carefully. He could see their heartache, their grief, their loss for the best man they've ever known. Their best friend in the whole wide world. It broke the camp medic internally, knowing that he could not do anymore for his friends. Their best bet now was to get Hogan to Berlin and hope that Dr. Richard Klaussner's colleague would be able to help him get well again and come back to them. "I'm sorry, guys...I wish I could do something else for him."
The camp medic sulked out of the infirmary and made his way to Klink's office.
Carter lifted his head from Hogan's chest and looked at him with his damp, red eyes. He closed his eyes and squeezed the colonel's hand tight.
LeBeau had tears streaming down his face, but he fought through them.
"Don't be scared, Colonel. Richard's friend in Berlin will make sure you come back to us again." The little Frenchman quivered. "This isn't goodbye forever...just for a while. I will make you proud, Colonel. We all will." He spoke the last part as determined as possible.
Newkirk had a glum look on his face and had his eyes looking down.
"We're gonna miss ya, Gov'nor. We hope you'll come back someday. You have to. You're the strongest, bravest man I've ever met in me life, sir. If anyone can do it, you can."
"Don't worry, Colonel. I'll look out for them. Walters won't have a chance with us around. Hopefully, he'll be off in a mental institution somewhere, when you come back again," Kinch said. Even though his commanding officer's chances were slim, he did not want to believe that this was goodbye forever.
"You are the best commanding officer I ever had, Colonel...you always will be...you'll always be my best friend," Carter said, just above a whisper.
"Goodbye, Gov'nor," Newkirk said sadly.
"We'll miss you, Colonel," Carter wept.
"Au revoir, mon Colonel," LeBeau croaked.
Kinch sighed sadly and turned to look at Hogan one last time.
"Goodbye, Colonel."