Burkhalter awoke to the sound of a somewhat heated discussion in progress. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get his bearings. What he saw made him softly groan. Klink was waving his riding crop around, using it to emphasize this point while he shouted at Hogan, who was sitting on a nearby bed. The aforementioned American was alternating between glaring at Wilson and arguing right back with a raspy voice, attempting to make his own point. The whole thing was ridiculous. Unfortunately for the general, it was also a perfectly normal situation at Stalag 13.

"I knew I should have stayed home today," Burkhalter muttered under his breath. "Is it really too much to ask for one normal visit to this camp?"

Apparently so. Well, it was too late now. He was stuck here unless he wanted to risk injuring himself further, not to mention deal with his wife. Burkhalter figured he'd have to make the best of his situation. He fluffed his pillow, wanting to be more comfortable while he watched the latest spat between the two colonels play out. Perhaps it would provide him with some entertainment. If not, he could always order them to shut up.

"Now see here, Hogan. If Sergeant Wilson says you are to stay here for two weeks, then that is what you shall do!" Klink exclaimed. "Not another word on the subject, do you understand?"

"I understand this is a violation of my rights under the Geneva Convention," Hogan protested. "You can't force me to be admitted to the infirmary against my will, Kommandant! It's not ethical!"

"I keep you as a prisoner of war against your will, do I not? This is no different," Klink shot back, momentarily stunning Hogan into silence. Yet he knew it wouldn't last. "In my camp, what I say goes…and I say you will follow Wilson's orders to the letter!"

Hogan glared at him. "I protest this treatment!"

"Protest denied, Hogan." Klink jabbed his riding crop at the American officer. "Feel free to write the Red Cross when you are released if you so desire, but you are not to leave this building without his express permission. This is for your own good. Perhaps I shouldn't be worried about what happens to you, but for some reason, I am."

"SILENCE!" Burkhalter thundered. He rubbed his temples, instantly regretting the decision to yell when he still had a headache. "Either snog and make up or don't, but be quiet."

"Say what now?"

"I beg your pardon, Herr General?"

"You heard me, Klink. You and Hogan constantly bicker like an old married couple," Burkhalter said. "I half expect to find the two of you emerging from a nearby supply closet with rumpled uniforms every time I visit this blasted camp."

Wilson snickered, earning himself a harsh glare from both Hogan and Klink. "Sorry sirs, but General Burkhalter's not wrong. I've seen people who were married for 40+ years that argued less."

"Well!" Hogan huffed. "I'll have you know I wouldn't kiss Klink if you paid me, even if it was legal. I have standards."

"I feel the same about you, Hogan," Klink assured him. "Such relationships would have to be socially acceptable first."

Hogan stared at him. "Come again, Kommandant?"

"It would be an easy way to make money," Klink explained with a shrug. "I would not be thrilled about the prospect, but hypothetically speaking, if such an opportunity were to present itself…I mean to say, you are not exactly hard on the eyes…" He cleared his throat. "Er, never mind. Let us change the subject."

"Gladly," Hogan slowly said. He stared at Klink for a few seconds more, wondering what that had been all about. "If you'll just step aside, I'll be on my merry way."

"Colonel, you sprained your shoulder and twisted your ankle. You literally had to hobble in here," Wilson pointed out. "You're not going anywhere until I give you the all-clear. If you attempt it at any point in time, I will personally sedate you, no questions asked."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"With all due respect, sir, try me. Because I absolutely would." Wilson met Hogan's hard gaze with one of his own. "My job is to take care of you and any other man here who needs medical aid. But you're fighting me at every turn, Colonel. You're not gonna be around to take care of anybody if you don't get better. If you comply with orders well enough, I'll allow you to walk around outside for a few minutes every hour once I'm sure your ankle has recovered. I'm sure Newkirk, Carter and the rest of the gang would be happy to walk with you. If not, you'll be stuck in here the entire time. That sound like a fair deal?"

"Not really, but I guess I have no choice. I'm sure as hell not gonna let you sedate me," Hogan grumbled. He carefully flopped back on to the mattress. "God, I'm gonna go stir crazy in here before the day's up."

"I assure you, Hogan, you'll live," Klink sighed. "You do not know the true meaning of boredom until you have sat in a trench, dreading the inevitable sound of artillery shells being fired over no-man's land. It was 99% waiting around and 1% sheer terror. Here, you have no fear of being attacked whilst you are asleep."

"As much as I hate to say it, I agree with Klink," Burkhalter said. "Count yourself fortunate you are too young to have fought in the last war, Hogan. It made this one look like a fun time."

"So I've heard." Hogan went into another coughing fit, dimly registering Klink's slender hand patting him on the back until it subsided. "Thanks, I guess."

"Do try to get well soon, Hogan," Klink said softly. "I daresay my days will not be the same without you constantly barging into my office at your own whim."

"Colonel Klink, you almost sound like you'll miss me," Hogan rasped, managing a weak smile.

"Don't be ridiculous," Klink quickly replied. "I simply meant I shall enjoy my peace and quiet while I have it. I will, however, look forward to your triumphant-yet-insolent return."

"Gee, thanks," Hogan remarked. "You really know how to make a guy feel welcome."

"Hogan, I…" Klink sighed. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes you did. You've never liked me, no matter what I do." Hogan rolled onto his good side, letting the faux hurt drip from his voice. "I've done my best to be a model prisoner, and this is the thanks I get? To be trapped in here like an animal? Forget it. Next time the Escape Committee meets, I'm telling them I want to leave. I can go home, put on my fuzzy socks and forget this place exists."

"Be reasonable, Hogan," Klink pleaded. "We can come to some sort of agreement."

"No, it's too late. I used to tell my men we had the best daddy in the whole wide world, but…"(1) Hogan let out a fake, shuddery sob. "I can tell when I'm not wanted. If you're not gonna spring me from here, go away."

"Oh, for goodness sake. I am trying to ensure you heal, you stubborn pain in my arse," Klink growled. Normally, he was willing to play Hogan's games, but not today. "I am sorry if you do not like that, but facts are facts. I do not have time for any more of this nonsense. My paperwork pile is no doubt growing by the minute, and I have things to do other than listen to you whine. I shall see you again once Sergeant Wilson officially releases you…which will hopefully be longer than two weeks!"

Wilson let out a low whistle when the kommandant slammed the door to the infirmary after storming out. "Wow, somebody must've gotten up on the wrong side of the bed today."

"I hope Klink sits on his pickelhaube again," Hogan muttered. "Maybe it'll help pull the stick out of his ass."

"Maybe." Wilson shook his head. "If either if you need me, I'll be in my office, filling out my own paperwork."

"I think that is the first time I have ever seen Klink tell you 'no' and truly mean it, Hogan. You are usually his favorite prisoner," Burkhalter commented. "I cannot say as I blame him, however. You're a jerk when you're sick."

"Excuuuuse me for feeling like Two-Ton Herman sat on me and bounced a few times," Hogan snapped. He sneezed into his handkerchief. "Why are you even here, anyway? Thought you left after the incident with Abbott and Costello earlier."

"Who?"

"Klink and Schultz doing their bit with the motorcycle and its side car," Hogan wheezed. He coughed a few times. "Usually you can't get out of here fast enough."

"Yes, well…I regret to inform you we're stuck together until I recover. I cannot climb the steps of my front porch until then," Burkhalter sighed. "Believe me, being stuck in this situation was not my first choice. It was not even my third choice. But Klink was rather insistent, and I would rather be here than at home with Bertha. She has been rather emotional lately."

"Maybe she's pregnant."

Burkhalter shook his head. "No, she knows for a fact she is not."

"How could – oh. Oh." Hogan made a disgusted face. "Never mind, I get it now. Yikes."

"Exactly. As I said, it will be more peaceful here," Burkhalter deadpanned. "Now, if you are quite through being over-dramatic for the time being, I would appreciate it if you remained silent for a while. I have a massive headache, and I am not talking about the one named Klink."

Hogan snorted in amusement. He had to admit, that had been a good one. "I guess I could do that, General. My voice is just about gone anyway."

~~HH~~

Two weeks passed. In that time frame, Hogan had found the general to be a good – albeit sarcastic – conversationalist once his voice had fully returned. Neither one had discussed the current war, however. They had preferred to talk about safe topics like their preferences in food. Burkhalter had rattled off several things Hogan had never even heard of, although they sounded delicious. He made a mental note to visit Austria once he was a free man again and check out the places he'd been told about. Slowly but surely, Hogan and Burkhalter recovered from their physical injuries as well as their respective illnesses.

Once they did inevitably broach the subject of combat – after all, both officers were military men to the core – they spoke of World War I. It surprised Hogan to learn Burkhalter had not only known Klink in the last war, but that they had fought together. The general had told Hogan all about how Klink had earned his Iron Crosses. Hogan had a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea of Stalag 13's illustrious kommandant being anything but a coward. When he said as much to Burkhalter, he got an expression he'd never seen before.

"What?" Hogan asked. "Why you looking at me like that?"

Burkhalter blew out a breath of air. He was under orders from London not to reveal his identity as Nimrod to anyone until he was cleared to do so. The same could be said for revealing undercover allies. That didn't mean he couldn't subtly hint at the latter, though. If the man otherwise known as Papa Bear just so happened to put two and two together from an innocent conversation, well…that wouldn't be Burkhalter's fault. Accidents happened in wartime.

"Hogan, have you ever considered how someone who comes off as a coward even managed to survive the Great War at all?" Burkhalter inquired. "Or managed to become a full Oberst?"

"Not really," Hogan answered with a shake of his head. "I just figured it was the good ol' friends and family club. Either that, or Klink bought his rank."

"Nepotism only gets you so far, Hogan," Burkhalter replied. "Regarding your second suggestion, the very idea is preposterous. If you have not noticed, Klink is rather prideful. He would consider it dishonorable to do such a thing."

"Yeah, you can't exactly miss the Iron Eagle strutting around," Hogan quipped. "Sometimes he gets so puffed up, I'm half convinced he's gonna pop like a balloon."

"Unfortunately, you are correct," Burkhalter grumbled. "Then there is Schultz, a man who ran the largest toy factory in Germany before this war broke out. Did he ever tell you what he did there?"

"…Ran the business?"

"Yes, but he did more than just administrative duties," Burkhalter explained. "Schultz also made some of their toys. And when I say 'made', I mean he personally handcrafted them himself. One must have a very good eye for detail to be a toy maker."

"Okay," Hogan said slowly. "What are you driving at here, General?"

"I am telling you a man does not go from that to seeing nothing all the time. One doesn't go from being a ruthless soldier decorated multiple times for bravery to a coward either," Burkhalter answered. "There are still German people alive who remember life under our Kaiser. Emperor, I believe the English term is. Kaiser Wilhelm II was by no means a perfect man, but he did his best. That is more than one can say about Germany's current leader. Many men – especially officers – who fought in the first war are…less than pleased with the Führer's leadership."

Burkhalter got his feet. He slowly buttoned his coat, giving that information time to sink in. Hogan was usually faster on the draw than this. Burkhalter couldn't really blame him, however. The very idea that one's enemies might be allies in disguise took some time to come around to. The first time Burkhalter had learned that, it had been during the incident with Wagner. It was one of the reasons why he'd been so quick to discredit the claim that Fräulein Helga was helping the prisoners. He had, of course, later complained to London about not being properly informed ahead of time. There was a time and a place where thinking on one's feet was the preferred option – espionage work was not one of them. Not if the spy in question wanted to live, at any rate.

"Well, that part's easy enough to fix," Hogan replied. "People just need to vote Hitler out and elect a new leader. You voted him in, right?"

"Vote the Führer out?" Burkhalter laughed, something he rarely did. "Ah, if only the solution was that simple. He has already passed laws to make it where the only person who can remove him from power is himself. Excluding the chaos that was the Weimar Republic, Germany has been a monarchy for centuries. She has never had a constitution of any kind. There are no term limits, no checks and balances of power like America has for her government. The position is held by one person until they die. In this scenario, that person is the Führer."

"So basically, you're telling me ol' scramblebrains won't stop until he's killed."

"No, I am saying nothing of the sort. That would be considered high treason. Unlike you, I don't make a habit of back sassing people who could have me executed without much effort." Burkhalter walked toward the door. "What I am saying is that everyone here does what they must do to survive. Some officers do more than others. Enlisted men follow the orders of the officers above them, especially when it is the right thing to do. And sometimes, one even discovers they have an ally – or allies – who wear a different uniform. Being utterly incompetent can be a great assistance when it is directed towards those who mean others harm."

Burkhalter gave the colonel a pointed look. "You are an intelligent man; surely you are capable of putting two and two together to make four."

Hogan looked puzzled. "What are y –"

"I shall say no more," Burkhalter interrupted. "Auf Wiedersehen, Hogan."

Hogan mumbled a goodbye. After zipping up his bomber jacket, he took his seat on the bed. That had been, without a doubt, the weirdest conversation he'd ever had. Almost as if it had been a code of some kind. Burkhalter's words buzzed in his head like a swarm of bees, replaying themselves over and over again.

"Many men – especially officers – who fought in the first war are…less than pleased with the Führer's leadership. One doesn't go from being a ruthless soldier decorated multiple times for bravery to a coward. Some officers do more than others. Enlisted men follow the orders of the officers above them, especially when it is the right thing to do. Being utterly incompetent can be a great assistance when it is directed towards those who mean others harm."

"Enlisted men…Burkhalter must have been talking about Schultz," Hogan whispered to himself. "But the only other officer here besides me is Klink, and he hasn't done anything to help the Allies."

As if on cue, pieces of various events flashed through Hogan's mind. There was the time Klink had caught him wearing a Luftwaffe uniform in the Hofbrau, speaking in German to SS officers who clearly knew him.(2) Klink had initially threatened to shoot Hogan as a spy, but quickly dropped the idea. The colonel had always chalked that one up to sheer gratitude for saving Klink's bacon. Still, it didn't explain why Hogan had barely been questioned about how he got the money. Surely Klink, as a German citizen, had to know it wasn't possible to earn 5.000 Reichsmarks in less than three days. Hogan could brush it off if that'd been an isolated incident. The problem was, it hadn't been.

Klink had once aided Hogan in a plan to get ahold of a list – which had indeed contained the kommandant's name – without asking any questions once all was said and done.(3) When Hogan had maneuvered things so Klink would arrange their escape, he hadn't questioned why people were getting in and out of the car, even though the sound of doors opening and closing had been blatantly obvious.(4) Klink hadn't inquired why or how a fully assembled airplane magically showed up within the wires either.(5) Nor had the kommandant asked why when he, Hogan, had suggested Klink "hurry up" with his belief that the train would blow up.(6) Klink also had gone along with the plan to hide 'Hitler' in the camp, but hadn't pressed Hogan for more answers after Hochstetter had left.(7) At one point, Klink had even trusted Hogan to fly them back to Germany from England, rather than insisting on taking the pilot's seat himself.(8) A damaged eye was only a hindrance if one was fighting in a battle. Finally, there was the time Klink had successfully led Hogan on before blatantly announcing that he, Klink knew Hogan was lying.(9) All of the above pointed to one conclusion: Klink wasn't the idiot he appeared to be. If Hogan assumed the kommandant was only pretending to be stupid, everything made perfect sense… especially since Klink only hammed it up when Hochstetter – a monster who definitely meant others harm – was around.

"It can't be," Hogan breathed. "But if Klink only grows a backbone when he needs to protect us, and he repeatedly denies the proof when it's in front of his face, then he must be…no. No no no no no. That's impossible!"

"What's impossible?" Wilson questioned, exiting his office while he spoke.

"My life, apparently."

"Situation normal."

"No, really," Hogan said. "I'm losing my mind, Joe."

"What do you mean, losing?" Wilson asked. "I thought that went AWOL a long time ago."

"Don't be funny," Hogan grumbled. "My life might've just gone off the rails, and you're cracking jokes about it."

"I'm being serious, Colonel. Every POW here figures you've been crazy for a while now, and some of the plans you come up only make things worse in that aspect." Wilson shrugged. "But you're a great CO, so we all accept it as one of your quirks and move on."

"I think I've just been complimented and insulted at the same time," Hogan said slowly. "That's a new one."

"Always happy to help," Wilson quipped. "I take it Burkhalter left for good versus only going outside to walk around?"

"Yeah," Hogan answered. "He…he said some really strange things to me. Things I'm not sure I wanted to hear."

"Sounds ominous," Wilson remarked. "Everything alright?"

"Alright? Ha!" Hogan scoffed. "I'll never be okay again if my hunch is correct."

"They usually are, sir."

"I know, and that's what worries me," Hogan muttered. He stood and grabbed his crush cap. "I gotta get to my chess game with Klink."

Wilson furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion. "Klink hasn't invited you to play recently, though."

"He will after I get through convincing him he should," Hogan replied, clapping Wilson on the shoulder. "See you later, Joe. And uh…thanks for taking such good care of me."

"Any time, Colonel. Gotta keep you around to make more crazy plans," Wilson said with a smile. "You're the best at making London question their life choices."

"It's a natural talent of mine," Hogan chuckled. "Been giving people headaches all my life – old habits die hard. I'm actually the source of every gray hair my old man's got. Very proud of that fact, by the way. Somebody had to do it."

He exited the infirmary, the medic's laughter echoing behind him. Hogan's mind raced with questions he desperately wanted answers to. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was secrets. Not unless he was the one keeping them, anyhow. Hogan always had to know what was going on around him at all times. Partly for information's sake, partly because his curiosity streak was a mile wide. Being nosy and observant had kept him alive more than once. If he didn't speak with Klink ASAP, he feared his curiosity would kill him.

Hogan strode toward the Kommandantur, returning the greetings he got from various prisoners along the way. He had faith in his ability to convince Klink they should play chess that evening. The colonel was a plotter to his very core; he always had several excuses ready for anything, just in case one didn't work out. A man could never be too careful during wartime. He knew that firsthand – it was a code he lived by every day – but he also knew it paid to take a gamble sometimes. This was one of them. If Hogan had his way, the conversation which always accompanied his and Klink's chess games would be very interesting tonight. At worst, there would be nothing lost. At best, the Unsung Heroes would have a new ally…and that would open up a whole new world of possibilities.

(1) "An Evening of Generals", Season 3, Episode 13.

(2) "Hogan's Hofbrau", Season 1, episode 13.

(3) "The Safecracker Suite", Season 1, episode 27.

(4) "Klink's Escape", Season 5, episode 26.

(5) "Flight of the Valkyrie", Season 1, episode 5.

(6) "The Late Inspector General", Season 1, episode 4.

(7) "Heil Klink", Season 2, episode 22.

(8) "Easy Come, Easy Go" Season 6, Episode 15.

(9) "Will the Real Adolf Please Stand Up?", Season 2, episode 12.