A/N Special thanks to Abracadebra for beta reading! Thank you very much. All remaining mistakes are my own.
A/N 2 My contribution to the mission "bring back the caper fics." I found it difficult to write a humorous story in today's world. But I guess that's the morale of a comedy like Hogan's Heroes - to not let the darkness win and spark a little joy. The last one may have been taken a little too literal in this story.
Blue Rose
With his eyes closed, Hogan enjoyed the warm sun on his face. He lounged on a bench in front of barracks 2, his head leaning against the wood. Newkirk and Kinch stood nearby, watching the compound. Their company shielded him from the chilly wind. It was a much-needed break after the last few weeks filled with lots of escaped prisoners and acts of sabotage.
Suddenly a shadow stole the warmth. Newkirk murmured a warning. "Schultz."
Hogan opened his eyes, squinting up to the burly German guard.
"Colonel Hogan." Sergeant Schultz paused to take a deep breath. Either the served food had been too good or the way over from Klink's office too long. "The Kommandant wants to see you."
"I'm busy." Hogan relaxed again. Keeping his arms crossed, he waited for Schultz to disappear and the sun to reappear. The German guard just didn't bring the same light and warmth.
"How are you busy? You are sitting in the sun."
"That's the very definition of being busy."
"But you are doing nothing." Schultz leaned his rifle against the wall next to his prisoners.
"That's arduous work. Just ask Newkirk here." Hogan pointed to the British corporal who grabbed the rifle, playing with its strap. "Just finding the time to sit in the sun was complicated."
"Jolly joker, you do not have a busy calendar. And Colonel Klink wants to see you."
Hogan made a long-suffering sigh. "What does he want?"
"I know nothing."
"Well, then tell him I put it in my calendar." Hogan glanced to Kinch who dutifully handed his notebook over. Studying the empty paper, Hogan made a noncommittal sound. "Hmm, I could squeeze him in tomorrow morning between the meeting of the escape committee and our weekly rehearsal for our play. What do you say?" he asked, ignoring the surrounding chuckles.
"Colonel Hogan!" Sometimes Schultz liked to remind the world that he had a booming voice and enough weight to throw around.
"What?"
"You are a prisoner." Schultz pointed at Hogan. "I am a guard." He pointed at himself. "And the Kommandant has ordered you to come and see him. I do not want to use my rifle to force you."
Straightening, Hogan knew that play time was over. Almost. "Your rifle? Oh, you mean the crutch Newkirk is leaning against?"
"Newkirk!" Schultz grabbed his rifle and tried to bring it up, clumsily almost hitting his face with its butt.
"Don't hurt yourself on my behalf," Hogan muttered, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm coming. But don't complain if there's an escape because I had to reschedule the committee's meeting."
:~:~:~:
Schultz' memories didn't return on the short walk to the commandant's office and so Hogan braced himself for a surprise.
"Colonel Hogan." Klink stood behind his desk, relaxed and smiling. He didn't seem to mind that Hogan came in under loud protest. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
Hogan remained standing, frowning. Most of the time mistrust was an excellent counselor, especially when Klink was in a dangerously good mood. "The answer is no."
Klink's face fell. "But you don't even know what I wanted to ask."
"The answer is still no."
The German colonel pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat," he said. "Two more slices of bread and an hour longer electricity."
Now he had Hogan's attention. "That's generous. What's in it for you?"
Klink wrung his hands, glancing around the room as if he was about to ask for something illegal. "A dinner cooked by Corporal LeBeau."
"Who do you want to impress?" Hogan sat down, crossing his legs. It wasn't a surprise of epic proportion, just important in Klink's personal world.
"General von Heiden wants to visit my camp." Klink moved around his desk, leaning against the edge, trying to appear friendly. "His sister Gretel is meeting him here."
"His sister?" Hogan raised an eyebrow. "Do we know her?"
Klink shook his head. Then he went to the door, opening it to check for secret listeners.
Hogan watched him, hiding his smile. He didn't use Klink's inattention to steal a cigar, knowing that soon enough Klink would offer him one.
After finishing his check, Klink opened a drawer, pulled smoothly out a photo and showed it Hogan. He whispered, "She was a singer before the war."
The photo showed a scantily clad woman, playing with the camera. Hogan smirked. Somebody knew how to cash in on her looks. "Is she married?"
"Colonel Hogan. That doesn't matter." Klink grabbed the picture and hid it in his drawer. Sitting down, he said, "She wants to check the condition of this camp and therefore will arrive before her brother. While I run this camp with an iron fist, I'd like to remind you that -"
"I'll take your offer."
Klink frowned. "What? No bargaining? No ridiculous demands?"
"Not this time." Hogan stood up, opening Klink's cigar box and taking a handful. He didn't want to wait any longer. "I'm invited to dinner with the sister of a general and I like to eat something nice. Do I need to wear my best uniform?"
"You are not invited." Putting his flat hands on the surface of his desk, Klink slowly pushed himself up.
With his best innocent face, Hogan went to the door. "Everybody needs a chaperone once in a while," he said and slipped out before Colonel Klink got the implication. Hogan had just closed the door, as the penny dropped.
"Hogan!"
:~:~:~:
Carter waited for Hogan at the door to Barracks Two. "Kinch is already down in the tunnel, trying to figure out if London wants something from this general."
Hogan nodded. Of course, his men would've listened in, gathering all the necessary information before he could walk the short distance.
As Carter didn't move, Hogan raised an eyebrow in a silent prompt.
"Ah, LeBeau ... there's a situation."
"A situation?" The colonel tried to figure out what kind of situation would drive Carter out, trying to keep him from going in. "With LeBeau?"
"LeBeau wants to go on strike. He doesn't want to cook for the boche."
Hogan shook his head and opened the door, knowing that Carter wouldn't try to stop him. As expected, LeBeau stood muttering in front of the stove. Hogan didn't understand French well, but like any good airman, he had learned the curse words. And according to his tiny knowledge of French, LeBeau should've turned the air blue. But the heavy smoke came from Newkirk's cigarettes.
Before Hogan had to say anything, the bed opened and Kinch climbed out. "And?"
"Not much." Kinch closed the trap door again. "Von Heiden usually doesn't leave Berlin, works in intelligence and has direct access to the Führer."
"Maybe we can send him a package with our regards," Newkirk muttered darkly. "One that goes boom."
Either the sun outside or the lack of sun inside had a bad effect on the general mood. It was time to fix this. And what would work better than fresh food? "Kinch, ask London if we should expect anything. If nothing else, we'll get a good dinner out of it."
"You mean, you'll get a good dinner," LeBeau snarled. "One that I have to cook. For the boche!"
"LeBeau," Hogan said, putting his arm around the corporal's shoulder. "To cook a good dinner you need to go shopping, right? And Klink won't question how much you need."
It took a moment, but then LeBeau started to grin. It was terrifying.
:~:~:~:
In the end, the shopping list had been as long as Hogan expected. LeBeau didn't trust Schultz to buy the right items, and so they went together.
Klink's open mouth and wide eyes as LeBeau and Schultz returned with a truck load full of "absolutely necessary, the bare minimum" of items according to LeBeau, made Hogan's day and kept him going as Klink first refused to pay, then to use German guards to unload and finally stormed off to dress for dinner.
There were enough helping hands from the prisoners to unload the truck. Schultz was too busy tasting what LeBeau prepared to acknowledge that half of the items went from the truck to the kitchen and from the kitchen out again to the barracks and into the tunnels.
They hadn't stocked up on their resources so easily for a long time. Best of all, it was paid by the Germans.
By the time the truck was empty, Hogan had to run to be on time for the big dinner. He knew by the smell of it that LeBeau had outdone himself. Newkirk and Carter were the waiters for the evening, having secured themselves a way to the kitchen and good wine.
But then they all had to wait for the general's sister. Finally, she arrived and Klink jumped up, almost tripping over his own two feet in his hurry. "Fräulein von Heiden."
Hogan eyed her and hung back. For once, it wasn't only her beauty or the way Klink tried to win her heart or attention. There was something in the way she glanced his way that made Hogan wary.
"And this is Colonel Hogan, senior officer of the prisoners," Klink said.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Hogan held out his hand.
But Gretel von Heiden ignored it. "There's not much pleasure in being a prisoner, is there?"
"Oh, we all love our tough commandant."
Klink beamed. "There never has been an escape from my camp."
"You said this already," von Heiden said nervously, while she inspected the room, the table, Schultz and Newkirk and Carter.
"I did?"
"You did, Herr Kommandant," Schultz said.
"Schultz, nobody asked you."
Fräulein von Heiden seemed stressed and distracted by Klink's ignorance and chatter. But after a while, she seemed to understand what kind of man Colonel Klink was and started to relax.
On his signal, Newkirk knocked down a flower vase. With Klink distracted and Newkirk and Carter running around creating more havoc, Hogan turned to von Heiden, intending to talk to her. But she just gave him a small slip of paper. Her hands were shaking, but her smile was ice-cold.
:~:~:~:
They should be asleep upstairs, but instead Hogan and his core team conferenced in the tunnel. Since Gretel von Heiden had given him her message, Hogan had lost all appetite and barely managed to stay long enough before he excused himself. Klink hadn't minded, his eyes solely focused on the sister of a general.
"That's only random numbers and letters," Carter said. He was the last one to take a look at von Heiden's paper.
"It's a code," Kinch explained from his position next to the radio. LeBeau leaned against the wall and seemed to fall asleep standing up.
"Can you crack it?" Hogan asked, handing the paper back to Kinch.
"Any hint what kind of code? Did she say anything?"
"Nothing. She just gave me this paper."
"Maybe it's a test." Newkirk seemed less tired. He stood next to LeBeau with his arms crossed. "For her brother."
"She clearly isn't here for Klink, even if the man is on his way to buy some roses."
"So what does it mean?" LeBeau asked, proving that he wasn't sleeping, just resting his eyes.
"What are we doing currently?" Hogan was sure that Fräulein von Heiden was only in Stalag XIII because she knew something and Hogan tried to prepare himself for whatever it was.
"We have two airmen down in the tunnel, and Olsen is out. Brown took his place. All three were supposed to go out in a few days", Newkirk said.
"We're holding back for now until -"
"I can't believe this."
"Kinch?" Hogan stepped up to his radioman, trying to gauge the situation.
"She's using our current code." Kinch looked up, his pencil still positioned on the paper, so he could continue to decode the message. "The one London just established last month."
"Were we made?" Carter asked. LeBeau lost all outward signs of tiredness and straightened. Together with Newkirk and Carter, they stood together, ready to face whatever came next.
"Kinch!" Hogan said, demanding an answer or at least a useful hint for him to make a decision.
Kinch's expression showed his intense concentration, while he finished decoding the message.
Hogan wanted to pace, but he didn't dare to add more turmoil to the tense situation. They all waited with bated breath.
Finally, Kinch put down the pencil. He looked up and started to read. "I am Rose-Blue. Need evacuation. About to be made."
Newkirk exhaled. "Do we know any blue roses?"
"Not that I'm aware of." Hogan looked around, but not even Kinch seemed to know somebody by that name. "Call London."
"Despite the fact that we may have been made?" Kinch asked.
Hogan paused. Maybe von Heiden was trying to flush them out for her brother. But maybe her request for help was the real deal. "If she's telling the truth, we're probably her last stop before a cell and death. She knows about us either way." He nodded to Kinch, confirming his previous order.
Kinch turned to the radio.
:~:~:~:
After a night without much sleep and enough nightmares for a week, Hogan didn't even mind the watery coffee. He wasn't sure if they needed a new supply drop from London or if LeBeau had been as distracted as the rest of his men.
Morning roll call had been a silent job. They acted so strange, Schultz had asked if they were sick. But Newkirk had allayed the German guard's fears while Kinch slipped away, waiting for London's answers.
Finally, the trap door opened and Kinch came up. Carter took guard duty at the door while the rest of his men assembled at the central table.
"London confirms that there is a Rose-Blue," Kinch said before taking a big gulp of his coffee. "But everything else is classified. Use your best judgment, they told us."
"Our best judgment. They don't tell us anything, but we're supposed to act." LeBeau crossed his arms.
"They probably also don't know. And we can talk to her," Carter said from the door.
"And how Carter? Do you want to get in between a lovestruck Klink and his beloved?" Newkirk asked. "I'm not sure if he even saw us yesterday, he had only eyes for the bird."
"The colonel will think of something," Carter said before returning his focus back to his guard duty.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Hogan sighed and started to pace. He didn't like London's refusal to provide information any more than his men, but Carter was right. He could talk to her. "All right." He clapped his hands. "Here's what we're going to do."
:~:~:~:
Hogan watched the football game, European style, or as Newkirk would tell anybody 'the only way to play football'. They made enough noise, but Klink had yet to appear outside. Hogan waited near the guest quarters to duck in for a quick chat with Fräulein von Heiden. As long as Klink was busy regaining order of his camp and then looking for Hogan, he would forget about his guest, leaving them uninterrupted.
Carter kicked the ball hard. He wasn't the best player and still showed his confusion about the strange rules. But for their game it didn't matter. Their goal wasn't a net between two posts but distracting Klink who was trying to select a perfume and unwilling to listen to Hogan's advice.
Newkirk caught the ball and aimed better, hitting the wall next to Klink's desk. If this didn't do the trick, they had to go for the windows.
But before Newkirk got the ball again, Klink appeared on top of the stairs with his riding crop and cap. "Schultz!"
Hogan ducked into the guest suite. Von Heiden jumped up from the sofa, but didn't seem surprised to see him.
"We don't have much time." Despite his words, Hogan took the time to admire her well-fitting yellow dress, her brown hair and her elegant style. "What do you want?"
"My way out. The one you promised me back in the days."
Outside the ruckus increased in intensity.
"I didn't promise you anything," Hogan said.
"The SS and the Gestapo are after me. A Major Hochstetter has found out about my time in London and through this my handler. They know that I have sent sensible information."
Such a beautiful woman shouldn't look so scared, but Hogan knew the price attached to spying. "You're about to be uncovered," he said. It would explain her arrival. Her brother probably wasn't even coming. It was just an excuse to leave Berlin and to come here. He'd be happy to help, but there was a problem. "If you vanish in this camp, your brother and mostly Hochstetter will tear it apart, leaving no stone unturned."
"I expected every minute to be arrested. My time to consider the consequences are over." She showed him a ring on her finger.
"Nice," Hogan said, hoping it wasn't a ring from Klink.
"It's filled with cyanide. I'll take your secrets with me but also everything I learned in the last years that I couldn't send to London. About my brother's work, about his complaints, the visitors and friends he kept. Everything."
Hogan stepped nearer, enjoying the rose-like smell of her perfume. She carried a fitting code name. "You make a hard bargain."
She also took a step forward, getting into Hogan's personal space. "I gave up my country, I gave up my family. Asking for my life in return, isn't asking too much."
He pressed his lips together. "I'll think of something."
The shouting outside started to die down. It was time to make an appearance. He hurried back out, intending to stop a fight he had started.
:~:~:~:
Hogan finished his short summary. A spy, hired long before the war, was about to be arrested and killed. Her position and information were so precious for London that everything concerning her was classified.
"And now?" Newkirk asked. He leaned against Hogan's desk in his small office. For the peace in camp it would be better if neither Carter nor Newkirk would be seen in the next few days. Only Fräulein von Heiden's timely arrival and her effect on Klink had spared them the cooler.
Hogan sighed. "She needs to die."
"What?" LeBeau asked. "Why don't we hide her in the tunnel."
"As long as she's alive, Hochstetter and her brother are gunning after her. We won't get her out of Germany alive." Hogan didn't like the idea any better. But he only had limited other options.
Kinch watched him, then he crossed his arms. "You don't want to kill her."
"She's ready to die." Hogan remembered the ring and the steely determination in her eyes. This time, he didn't need to act to save Papa Bear, he needed to act to save somebody willing to die to guard his secrets.
"She knows what the Gestapo is going to do," Kinch agreed with the cynical knowledge of a man who had seen what people were capable of doing to each other.
"We only need to make Klink believe she's dead. Then he's going to make a report to Berlin." It sounded easy, but Hogan knew that a lovestruck Klink wasn't as easily manipulated as usual, at least not into believing his focus of attention could be dead.
"Hochstetter is going to demand a body," Kinch pointed out.
Curling his lips, Hogan tilted his head back. In the back of his mind a plan started to appear. "Not if there is no body."
"How?" LeBeau asked eagerly.
"Explosion!" Carter's eyes flashed with joy and his expression mirrored his anticipation.
"Carter."
"Fire. We'll make a big fire." Carter waved his hands around, almost hitting Newkirk in the shoulder.
"Carter!"
"Sir?"
"Why don't we go with something easier?"
Carter settled down, disappointed. "What?"
"A car accident." Hogan lowered his voice. "The tank may explode."
"Burning everything down?" Kinch asked with a knowing smile while Newkirk snorted.
Hogan shrugged. "Everybody has a chance to contribute. This time it was Carter's turn."
:~:~:~:
Hogan stood in the small private quarter of Barracks Seven, meeting the chaplain of the camp - Christopher. This man had a better understanding of the morale and attitude of the camp than Hogan. He was one of the few people completely aware of their activity, but his contribution was strictly limited to the camp.
"You want me to do what?" Christopher asked, showing his confusion in an open expression. Dark hair, gray eyes and tall enough to look down on Schultz, the chaplain commanded enough authority that he didn't need to remind anybody of his rank. His presence alone was enough. And yet he also had mastered the art to stay in the background, to be almost invisible.
"Write a play." Hogan repeated his unusual request. "With fire or candles or anything. I need a reason for somebody to run out."
"Into a car that is going to crash?" Christopher smirked.
"News travels fast around here."
"Colonel, we're here for the long run. Everybody not working outside the fence has a hard time waiting and lying low."
Hogan nodded. Some of his men were overworked and some bored. "That's why we have you."
"And gossip."
"All right. Yes, something like this. I just need some fire to create a panic."
"Why don't you write the play yourself? You're a far better storyteller." Christopher gave him a knowing smile.
"Because Colonel Klink is going to recognize my handwriting. Not yours."
The chaplain nodded, accepting the reason. "You'll get it."
:~:~:~:
Klink's office had never been tidier. The effect of a woman on the commandant was almost scary. Too bad that Hogan had to destroy the romance long before it could bloom.
"Why are you and your men on your best behavior?" Klink asked, standing behind his desk. It had been the topic of their conversation since Hogan had been ordered to the commandant.
"You have a lady friend over." Hogan made himself comfortable in his chair. "We don't want to cast a bad light on you."
"Very nice." The more Hogan relaxed, the more stressed Klink seemed to become. "But this has never stopped you before. You're planning something, right?"
Hogan let his head hang. "You got me. You're just too good."
Klink grinned smugly, but then his eyes went wide. "An escape!"
"No! We would never do that to you." Hogan acted hurt, laying a hand on his chest. "We wanted to surprise you with a play, written for you and the lady."
"Why?" Suspicion colored Klink's voice. He narrowed his eyes.
"Well, if there wasn't a war going on, you certainly would invite her for an evening in the opera or the theater, wouldn't you?"
The commandant squared his shoulders. "I am a gentleman, but first and foremost I am a soldier. I know my duty."
"That's right. So, we thought we could bring the entertainment to you." Hogan paused, then added a little extra motivation. They needed Klink to be the one to invite Fräulein von Heiden. "A dark room always allows for little more than just holding hands."
"Why are you doing this?" Klink sat down, suspicion again written all over his face.
"Well," Hogan said, "you know what they say."
"No."
Hogan rose and flashed the German colonel a quick smile. "Then I won't spoil it for you."
"Colonel Hogan!" Klink jumped up, hurried around his desk and stepped between Hogan and the door.
"Oh, fine." Hogan threw up in hands, a dramatic gesture but effective nonetheless. "A wife is supposed to calm down a man, make you less terrifying."
Klink's posture changed from upset to smug. "You think I am terrifying?"
"Why else would we work day and night to write a play for you?" Hogan paused. He needed to time his invitation just right. "Are you coming?"
"Of course."
:~:~:~:
The recreation hall served as their theater. Barracks Seven was on duty to keep it clean. So it was their job to prepare everything for the big night, leaving Hogan free for a last meeting. "All right, Carter and Newkirk, you take the stage. Did you memorize the chaplain's text?"
"Sure thing boy, I mean, sir."
Newkirk scowled, his arms crossed. "Carter won't remember a word. It would've been better to do it alone."
Carter put his hands on his hips. "I remember the story perfectly. It's about four winds."
"Four candles, Carter, four candles."
"But the wind plays a big part."
"You'll manage," Hogan said, making eye contact with Newkirk. "LeBeau?"
LeBeau carried the biggest risk in this mission, but his work was crucial. "I hide in the car, drive it away, and crash it. Then I slip away. I have ten seconds before -"
"The car goes boom." Carter described his planned explosion with sounds and a matching facial expression.
"Don't crash into our barracks," Hogan said, just to interrupt Carter.
"Oui, mon colonel."
"And don't crash into Klink's office either," the colonel added.
"Why not?" LeBeau seemed disappointed as if he had already selected a spot he wanted to destroy.
"Because we'd need to rebuild it and suffer Klink's bad mood."
LeBeau nodded, apparently understanding this reason. "The tower?"
Hogan considered it. "We don't want to actually kill anybody."
"But, mon colonel, where do you want me to crash?"
"Try to go for the fence." Hogan turned around. "Kinch?"
Kinch smirked. "I'll help von Heiden to slip from the car into our tunnels."
"Good. Everybody ready?"
"No."
Hogan grinned. "Great. The mission is a go."
:~:~:~:
Hogan waited at the door for their guests to arrive. "Herr Kommandant. Fräulein von Heiden," he said, helping the woman out of her light jacket.
"Colonel Hogan," she returned the greeting in a voice that would make a lesser man shiver. They hadn't gotten the chance to talk to her, but Hogan hoped that her tone was an indication that she could read between the lines and would be ready.
"The play is about to begin," Hogan said, leading the way to the chairs.
The men from Barracks Seven and the chaplain darkened the room. On the stage only Newkirk and Carter remained with just candles as light.
"Once upon a time," Newkirk began, "there were four candles, lighting the world."
"Only four?" Klink whispered but was shushed by von Heiden.
"They all had names. The brightest one was called love. But a cold wind blew through the world, engaging the flames into a fiery battle."
Carter made sounds that mimicked a strong wind.
"One day, the wind succeeded and blew out the candle."
Carter killed the first candle. The room darkened a little.
"At first nobody recognized that a candle had died because the ego was still there and people still could love if they were loved back. But the selflessness was gone."
All eyes were on the stage, watching and listening to Newkirk's presentation. He had a real stage personality. Kinch waited in the dark near the door while Hogan kept an eye on the room at large.
"There were still three candles, lighting the dark. The second one was called truth. Her light shone bright and drove away the shadows of doubt and fear."
In the flickering light, Carter and Newkirk's silhouettes were shadowed against the stage curtain.
"But nobody cared or protected the flame, so the cold wind blew out the second candle."
Carter blew out the next candle.
"Now there wasn't enough light anymore to separate truth from lie," Newkirk said. "Only two lights remained, and the world got darker and darker."
"Colonel, we have a problem," Kinch whispered from the door.
"What?"
"Hochstetter just arrived at the main gate." That was the very definition of a problem.
On stage Newkirk continued with their play. "And then, one day it happened, a wind burst blew out the third candle, called peace. Without love and truth for protection it just vanished."
Carter extinguished the third candle.
"Coldness and fear blew through the world, and only the last candle provided some warmth and light."
Hogan made a decision. "Cut the power, we can't have him see her. I'll get the Fräulein."
Carter took the last candle and held it up. "Do not despair as my name is hope. "
"Bah! Why is it dark here? Everybody hands up or I shoot!"
Hogan's eyes had gotten used to the darkness. He made his way to the chairs and grabbed von Heiden's wrist. "Follow me!" he whispered.
"We need light! And hands up!" Hochstetter ordered.
Carter followed the order and dropped the candle. Suddenly the stage curtain caught fire and everything lightened up. Hochstetter had his light and Hogan his desperately needed distraction. He used the real panic to lead the woman away.
"Drive!" Hogan ordered the hiding LeBeau as they reached the waiting car. He didn't bother to have her enter the car; instead he handed the Fräulein off to Kinch, hoping that he could safely bring her into a tunnel without being seen.
"The woman," Hochstetter screeched, running out of the burning recreation hall. "Where is the woman?"
Shouts for water, shouts of fear and a lot of confusion allowed LeBeau to travel a good distance before Hochstetter spotted him.
"Stop the car!" Hochstetter pointed to the car. Then he ordered one of his men. "Shoot it!"
Hogan tried to intervene, but he was too far away. Hochstetter's goon shot in the direction, LeBeau jerked, and the car crashed into Hochstetter's car. He started to count while Hochstetter rushed over. As he reached four the car exploded, its blast forcing the guards away.
But Hogan had only eyes for the sidelines.
"He's out," Kinch whispered. "I saw him. And von Heiden is safely downstairs."
Hogan breathed deeply, relieved.
But now they had two fires. A quick glance around showed him Chaplain Christopher calmly coordinated the firefighting operations of the recreation hall. His quiet voice signaled that he had everything under control.
The same couldn't be said about Hochstetter and his two burning cars. Klink's shouted orders and Schultz' echoes just added to the confusion.
Together with Kinch, he enjoyed the show as Germans ran around the destroyed vehicles like fluttering chickens, shouting and waving.
:~:~:~:
"Anybody hurt?" Hogan asked as he entered the recreation hall. Stirring up and calming down Klink and Hochstetter had taken the better part of his evening. Now it was time for a check-in. Looking around, he realized that the smoke had done more damage than the fire itself. But with a little work, they should recover just fine. Just the scent would take time. A long time.
Hogan looked around further. The men from Barracks Seven had already started the big clean-up. As Hogan caught the gaze of Christopher, the chaplain shook his head in a silent answer. Nobody was hurt.
"Carter dropped the candle," Newkirk muttered. But he was sitting on a stool and playing with his cards. His face was smudged with ashes but he breathed without coughing.
"I didn't want to get shot," Carter replied in a voice that suggested it was a repeated conversation between these two.
Hogan went to the remains of their stage. "Too bad that we now won't know how the story ends."
"We do know," Carter said, raising a hand. "The last candle was supposed to say: 'With my light you'll be able to reignite the other candles.'"
"But I really like the improved ending," Christopher said from across the room.
"What improved ending?" Newkirk asked.
Christopher ambled over. "Your stage performance," he said. "Be careful what kind of hope you have. Do want to go out in a blaze of glory? Or do you want to burn down the whole world with you?"
"I thought we were supposed to relight the other candles, and after we're finished the Fräulein was gone," Carter said.
"That would've been better," Newkirk muttered.
"But the new morale still stands," Christopher said. "You'll light up what you hope for. If you hope for destruction you'll fire it up. If you hope to go out in a blaze of glory, your hope could be the spark you need. But if you hope for peace and truth and love, you may just get it."
Hogan nodded. Fire was a source of light and warmth, but also of great destruction if you weren't careful. Just like hope.
:~:~:~:
The dimly lit tunnel was perfect for a romantic goodbye. Hogan waited until the two airmen got the hint and vanished after Olsen. They would accompany Rose-Blue to London.
"Colonel Hogan," Fräulein von Heiden said. Her hair was cut short and dyed into an ugly blonde. But it would help her to get out. "Thank you."
"You know the old poem." Hogan stepped nearer. "Roses are red-"
"But I'm Rose-Blue, blue-blooded, ready to take cyanide, turning my lips blue." She stood her ground.
"I'm willing to take the risk." He was sure that she wouldn't poison him, her relief after her narrowed escape too visible to mean anything else. He leaned forward.
"Colonel Hogan!" LeBeau's whispered shout ruined the mood.
"What?"
"Hochstetter is here and Klink wants to see you."
Rose-Blue smiled and went after her escort without a kiss for Hogan. He sighed.
:~:~:~:
Klink's office appeared smaller while Hochstetter prowled, pacing from door to window to desk and back. The questions he asked went in the same circles as his feet.
"Colonel Hogan can attest that I was always suspicious of that woman." Klink stood behind his desk, keeping Hochstetter in his line of sight but out of range of the fuming major.
"Indeed," Hogan said, sitting in his favorite chair with his legs crossed. "He didn't even want to talk to her alone, asking me to accompany the dinner."
"Did he?" growled Hochstetter, leaning forward, getting into Hogan's face. "Then maybe you helped."
"Major Hochstetter may I remind you -"
"My car exploded!" screamed Hochstetter. "A spy escaped!" He raised a fist, threatening Klink with it. "You may not!"
"But if you hadn't transported munitions in your trunk, nothing would've happened," Hogan said. The remains of the two cars were a sad picture. But not even the Gestapo expected survivors in the twisted metal. Hogan was just glad that LeBeau got out fast enough.
"What is this man doing here!"
"Major Hochstetter." Klink timidly raised a finger. "This is my camp and -"
"Bah!" Hochstetter stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Hogan grinned. "Where's he going? Does he want to walk to Berlin?"
Klink laughed, then stopped, listening in fear whether Hochstetter would come back. As nothing happened, Klink opened his cigar box and held it out to Hogan. "Such incompetence. Driving around with explosives in the trunk."
"Thanks!" Hogan grabbed a handful, no way to know when the next opportunity would present itself. "Just think about what would've happened if he'd parked nearer your office."
Shuddering, Klink grabbed a cigar, lit it up and offered Hogan the lighter. "Colonel Hogan, what happened to Fräulein von Heiden?"
Making an innocent face, Hogan repeated what he told anybody who asked or didn't ask. "She ran to her car as she saw Hochstetter. She crashed and died in the explosion and fire. End of story."
"Such a sad ending." Klink shook his head. "Such a beautiful woman. If she just hadn't been a spy." He sighed deeply. "There was a spark between us. You saw it right?"
"Absolutely, I even have the burnt stage curtain as proof."
"Hogan!"
The colonel went to Klink's schnapps. He poured two glasses, offering one to Klink. "You're lucky in work. Hochstetter's gone again."
"But unlucky in love." Klink downed his drink in one big gulp.
Hogan nodded, thinking about Rose-Blue. "You can't have everything."
The End
A/N Thank you for reading!