Ring of Steel

E.J. McFall

LeBeau stood in the shadows, watched the unfolding scene anxiously. Hogan had spent a good part of the day roaming the perimeter, making both the SS guards and his fellow prisoners nervous. Finally the warning shot that they'd all been dreading had been fired and their colonel was surrounded by guards, with Klink and Hochstetter quickly closing in. Without thinking, LeBeau was moving across the compound.

"Arrest him!" Hochstetter shouted as he hurried from Klink's office. "He's looking for blind spots so he can escape."

"Don't be ridiculous. There has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13." Klink reached Hogan, gestured away the guards. "You're confined to your barracks, Hogan. I don't want to see you out here again."

"Bah! Throw him in the cooler! You are too lenient, Klink."

"I'm in charge of this camp, Major." Klink pulled Hogan away from the Gestapo agent. "You've picked a bad time to go wire-crazy, Hogan. You'll freeze if I put you in the cooler tonight."

"Let me go into town to get medicine, Kommandant. I give you my word I won't try to escape."

"You know what Berlin told me, Hogan. There is no medicine. Not for your men. Not for mine. I'm sorry."

"Your men aren't dying, Kommandant. Let me go into town before I have to bury any more of mine."

"Just where do you think you would go, Hogan?" Hochstetter intruded on the colonels. "To the black market or to your underground connections?"

"Major…" Klink tried to block the man's advance, infuriating the short-tempered agent.

LeBeau took advantage of the argument to slip through the guards to his colonel's side. "Mon Colonel, you are sick. You should be in bed."

"Go back to the barracks, LeBeau." Hogan tried to shoo the Frenchman away. "I can handle this."

LeBeau shook his head adamantly. "We do not need a dead colonel."

"What is this man doing here?!" Hochstetter turned from Klink to LeBeau. "I demand you throw them both in the cooler, Klink."

"Herr Kommandant." LeBeau turned desperately to Klink. "Mon Colonel is sick. I will take him back to his room."

"Sick?" Klink scanned his senior P.O.W. He did look paler than usual. " Alright. Take him back to the barracks and see that he stays there. It'll be the cooler if he's caught roaming near the wire again."

"Oui, Kommandant." LeBeau tugged on Hogan's arm. "Please, Colonel."

Hogan nodded in resignation, allowed LeBeau to lead him away. He waited until they were out of earshot of the Germans to gently brush away the corporal. "Alright, LeBeau. I'll behave."

"I'm sorry, mon Colonel. I was afraid that Hochstetter…"

"I know." Hogan looked back at the still-arguing Germans. "I think I owe you one."

"Louie!" Newkirk ran to join the men, slapped LeBeau on the back. "You're a tiger, mon ami."

"Boy! You sure are brave." Carter glanced between the Germans and their commanding officer, then shot LeBeau a grin. "I don't think I could have done that."

"Thank God neither of you was hurt." Kinch leaned weakly against their barracks door. "You were lucky, Colonel."

"And you should be inside." Hogan hurried to Kinch's side, took one of the sergeant's arms. "Didn't I give orders that you were to stay in bed?"

"Sorry, sir." A ghost of a smile crossed Kinch's face. "It's hard to sleep with all that shooting and shouting going on."

"Very funny. Come on." Hogan helped Kinch inside and to his bed. "I don't care if Patton comes through that gate, I don't want you out of bed again."

"Yes, sir." Kinch's body shook as he was overcome with a bout of violent coughing.

"Kinch…" Hogan knelt beside the bed, tried vainly to ease the black man's pain. "I'll get hold of some antibiotics. Don't worry."

Kinch shook his head, spoke between coughs. "No way, sir. Can't use the radio, can't leave camp. Too dangerous."

"I'll find a way." Hogan stood, gestured to Carter. "Get him something warm to drink."

"Right away." Carter hurried to obey, nearly tripping over a chair in his haste.

"Put some whiskey in it." Hogan amended his order, turned his attention to Newkirk, LeBeau and the others who were standing helplessly beside the bed. "Alright, you guys, clear this area. No point in everyone getting sick."

"All due respect, sir." Newkirk gestured at the others. "We don't see as it makes much difference where we are. The bloody germs are all over camp."

" I know, but we can still try to contain it. We've got a dozen dead already. That's enough." Hogan sank onto a chair, absently acknowledged the cup of coffee Carter slipped into his hands. "Go on, fellows. This area is off limits."

LeBeau leaned against a bunk, silently watched Kinch try to persuade the Colonel to distance himself also. Hogan merely smiled and claimed that officers didn't get sick. LeBeau shot a glance at Newkirk and saw the same worried expression on his English friend's face. For the first time they were in a situation that not even Papa Bear could control. Pneumonia had been brought into the camp with a group of half-starved Russian prisoners, many of whom had subsequently died. Normally it would only require a radio message to London to acquire the penicillin they needed, but Hochstetter had chosen this time to move into camp. His SS guards and his radio detection truck had turned their camp into a prison and had put all of them on edge. And now with Kinch sick, Hogan was growing restless and taking chances with the Gestapo that none of them could afford.

"Mon Colonel, you should rest." LeBeau crossed to his commander's side. "I'll stay with Kinch."

Hogan shook his head.

"Louie's right, governor." Newkirk absently shuffled a deck of cards. "You haven't gotten any decent sleep since the Russians arrived."

"He's right, sir." Carter chimed in. "You should take a nap. We'll mind the store."

"Oui. There are no missions with Hochstetter here and it's too cold to go outside. Even the Papa Bear must hibernate sometime."

"Fellows..." Hogan sighed, glanced from man to man. "You'll stay in bed, Kinch?"

"You got it, sir. I won't move a muscle."

"Ok." Hogan rose reluctantly. "Wake me if there's any change in any of the sick or if Hochstetter leaves Klink's office."

The men nodded as Hogan slowly disappeared into his room, then exchanged puzzled looks among themselves. Never, in all the years they'd worked with him, had they seen Hogan give up so easily. LeBeau felt a chill that had nothing to do with the winter winds outside.

** * *

LeBeau steadied the bowl of steaming soup, patiently waited for Kinch to stop coughing. "Come on, Kinch. You know the Colonel is going to blame me if you don't eat."

Kinch pushed the bowl away. "Sorry, Louie. I won't tell him, if you don't."

LeBeau sighed, set the bowl on the table. "Tell me what you're hungry for and I'll make it. Anything –even a revolting banana split."

Kinch forced a smile. "Maybe later. Right now I think I'll just get some rest. After all, it's not often I can sleep without worrying about the radio. I think I'll take advantage of the time off."

"Ok. Maybe that's best." LeBeau glanced over his shoulder at Newkirk, who was cheating at solitaire. "I should take some soup to the Russians."

Newkirk nodded, aware of LeBeau's unspoken question. "I'll keep an eye on things."

"Knock it off, you two." Kinch struggled to sound in charge. "I don't need a babysitter."

" You know, it's always the strong, silent ones who make the worst patients." Newkirk nudged Carter. "Get him a right pretty bird to tuck him in and I wager he'd sing a different tune."

"Boy, would he." Carter laughed. "Once we get the radio back, we should ask London to send us some Red Cross girls."

"Only if they're French." LeBeau slapped Carter's arm playfully. "Come on, Carter. Help me take food to the sick men."

"Ok." Carter stood obligingly as LeBeau handed him a large pot of soup and several loaves of bread.

"Don't stay too long." Kinch turned away as he coughed. "And don't touch anyone if you don't have to."

"Listen to him." LeBeau rolled his eyes dramatically. "He carries half-dead prisoners from the truck to their barracks, and then he tells me not to touch anyone."

"He's balmy, that's what he is." Newkirk smiled innocently. "Course, he is American. Guess that explains a lot."

"Hey!" Carter tried to protest, but LeBeau pushed him towards the door.

LeBeau's light-hearted façade slipped away once he left the barracks. He trudged through the snow, too worried to notice the cold. Kinch was never sick, Hogan was never out of control. For the first time since they'd begun their clandestine operation, LeBeau felt truly afraid. Not of Hochstetter and his mindless drones, but of the return of the endless tedium and hopelessness that had haunted the camp before Hogan's arrival. He couldn't go back to being a faceless number in a Bosch prison. He wouldn't.

"Something wrong, Louie?" Carter looked at his friend with concern. "You don't have to worry about Kinch. Colonel Hogan will find him some medicine."

"Oui. I was just thinking about the first time I saw mon Colonel." LeBeau thought back to the loss of their British commander and the arrival of his replacement. "The Gestapo had him gagged and in chains. I remember thinking he didn't look dangerous enough to go to all that trouble. Just goes to show you how wrong first impressions can be."

Carter nodded eagerly. "I remember the first time I met him – it was in Klink's office right after I arrived. Boy, was I scared! But then the Colonel winked at me right during the Kommandant's big 'toughest camp in all of Germany' speech and I knew I was going to be ok. I know that doesn't make any sense but…"

"I understand." LeBeau smiled to himself. Hogan made a point of attending most of Klink's interrogations, especially when young prisoners arrived. The newcomers generally left the office looking relieved, oblivious of the fact that Klink had never been a threat and that Hogan had never had to protect them. Their commander was always quick to relinquish his new charges into the care of Newkirk, Carter or himself, depending on their nationality. The slightest hint of burgeoning hero-worship on the part of the new prisoner was enough to make Hogan disappear into his office indefinitely. LeBeau chuckled as he glanced at Carter. With one notable exception.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking that it must be hard for Colonel Hogan to be the only officer in an enlisted man's camp."

"What's so funny about that?"

LeBeau used his favorite evasive tactic – he mumbled in French. They arrived at the Russian barracks before Carter could think of an appropriate response. "Ok, Carter. You wait out here. I won't be long."

"Hey, that's not fair. Why can't I go in too?"

"Because I said so." LeBeau retrieved the soup and bread from the younger man.

"But…." Carter tried his best to scowl. "I outrank you, you know."

"If you don't behave, you won't get any more strudel." LeBeau left the sergeant frowning in the snow and ventured into the quarantined barracks. His false bravado disappeared as he turned his attention to the group of sick men.

"Where is comrade Colonel today?" Sasha, the group's English interpreter sat up on his bed. "He is sick?"

"No, just getting some rest." LeBeau began dishing the soup out and distributing it to those too weak to get out of bed. He refused to think of Kinch, of his friend growing as ill and as gaunt as these pathetic men. The Russians had been surviving on half rations for weeks before arriving at the camp. Kinch was strong and healthy before contracting the disease. There was no comparison to be made. "How are you and your men feeling?"

"Those who aren't dead are still alive." Sasha paused, momentarily hopeful. "There is medicine?"

"I'm sorry. Colonel Hogan has tried, but the Krauts don't have enough penicillin for their own men, much less for us."

"So. It is as we thought." Sasha lowered his voice. "There are those who think the American colonel is a….what do you call one who works with the enemy?"

"A collaborator?" LeBeau shook his head vigorously. "You're wrong. He hates the Nazis."

" I do not think this myself, but still…" Sasha scanned the room. "There are those who say he is too friendly with the Kommandant."

"They're wrong. Anything the Colonel does is for the good of the camp."

"Of course." Sasha set aside his bowl. "Thank you for the meal. It has been a long time since we've had such good food."

LeBeau muttered a response, eager to get away from the man's accusations before he lost his temper. He found Carter where he'd left him, patiently pacing in the snow. "Come on. I want to talk to Newkirk."

"What about?"

"I think we might have some security problems."

"Oh." Carter dogged behind the older man. "Want me to blow something up?"

LeBeau glanced behind them at the Russian barracks. "Not yet, but I'll keep you in mind. "

* * * *

LeBeau stormed into the barracks, Carter on his heels.

Newkirk took one look at LeBeau and dropped his cards. "What is it? Hochstetter?"

LeBeau responded in angry French.

Newkirk turned to Carter. "What's going on?"

"The Russians said Colonel Hogan is a traitor." Carter slapped his fist into his palm. "Boy, if we weren't under orders not to start fights…"

"Traitor?" Kinch sat up, wrapped his blanket around him. "Just because he can't get medicine that doesn't exist?"

"They say he collaborates with the filthy Bosch." LeBeau spit out the words.

"The governor?" Newkirk shook his head. "Might as well accuse Old Winnie of going Nazi."

"I don't trust them." LeBeau paced around the table. " I don't care how sick they are."

"Right, well we'll just sort them out before they have a chance to cause a fuss." Newkirk gestured to several of the other prisoners. "Come on, you lot. You just volunteered for sentry duty."

LeBeau swore to himself as Newkirk led his detail outdoors.

"Don't take it so hard, Louie." Kinch stifled a cough. "It's not the first time this has happened. They'll settle down once they realize what really goes on here."

"Who'll settle down?"

The men turned in unison as Hogan slipped from his office.

"Uh…nothing important, sir." Kinch did his best to sound nonchalant. "Just some tension in one of the barracks. Newkirk's on it."

"I see." Hogan headed for the coffee pot. "I trust you'll let me know if I'm needed."

"Oh, sure, sir. You'll be the first to know. Well, actually, we'd probably be the first to know, but then when we told you, then you'd be the next to know and…."

"Carter." LeBeau signaled for the young sergeant to stop rambling. "Are you feeling better, mon Colonel?"

"Yes, I am." Hogan grinned as he set his cup on the table. "I must have been really tired because the answer is obvious."

"It is?" Carter glanced at the other men, who shrugged in reply.

"Couldn't be simpler. If Mohammed can't go to the mountain, the mountain will just have to come to Mohammed."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, Carter." Hogan poked his head outside the door, ignoring his men's protests. "Hey, Langenscheidt!

"Nein, nein!" The young German corporal waved his rifle excitedly. "You are confined to barracks, Colonel. Kommandant Klink's orders."

" Relax. I don't want to go anywhere. I want you to bring Sgt Schultz here."

Langenscheidt shook his head. "Sgt Schultz ordered me to keep you inside. He said to shoot you in the leg if you tried to leave your barracks."

"Corporal, I give you my word I'll be here when you get back." Hogan smiled disarmingly, pointed to the guard towers. "Those nice men up there will be happy to shoot me in the head if I don't behave myself. Now go get Schultz. Rasch!"

"Jawohl!" Langenscheidt started to salute, then realized his mistake. Chagrined, he hurried off across the compound.

"Kids today." Hogan whistled the Army Air Corps song as he retrieved his coffee cup and refilled it.

"Must be some plan." Carter nudged LeBeau.

"Oui." LeBeau felt some of his uneasiness disappear. The Colonel seemed to have recovered his spirits. Perhaps there was still reason to hope.

"What's the idea, Colonel?" Kinch swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Where do you think you're going, Sgt?"

"I just thought you might need some help…" Kinch sighed in resignation and settled back into bed.

"That's better." Hogan consulted his watch. "Any moment now…"

"Colonel Hogan!" The door swung open and Schultz stomped in. "You cannot be giving the guards orders. You are a prisoner."

"I am? Schultz, why didn't you tell me sooner?" Hogan brushed away the German's rebuttal. "Ok, I'll behave. I just wanted to ask you a favor."

"No." Schultz shook his head adamantly. "You cannot leave camp. You cannot leave the barracks. You cannot…"

"I don't want to go anywhere." Hogan put his hand on the guard's shoulder. "I just want you to run a tiny little errand for me."

"No, no, no, no!" Schultz backed away from the American.

"Oh, come on, Schultz. Our Red Cross packages just came in. We've got lots of chocolate." Hogan upped the ante as Schultz continued to back away. "Cigarettes? Money? You name it – I'll get if for you."

"No. You cannot leave camp and I cannot leave camp. No one can leave here by orders of Major…"

"Hochstetter." Hogan swore. "I hate that bastard more every day."

"Colonel Hogan…" Schultz glanced around the room nervously. "The Gestapo hears everything. They know everything."

"Yeah, yeah. Alright. I'll just have to talk to Klink." Hogan started for the door but Schultz blocked his way. "Come on, Schultz. I'm not in the mood…"

"Then you get in the mood because you are not leaving this building." Schultz' voice took on an unaccustomed edge.

Hogan tried to duck around the guard but the German suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his bomber jacket and tugged him away from the door. "Hey!"

" I'm sorry, Colonel Hogan, but you're upset about your sick men. You are not being yourself." Schultz lowered his voice. "Major Hochstetter is trying to trap you. If you try any monkey business now he'll have you shot."

"I just want some lousy medicine." Hogan sighed, defeated. "Ok, Schultz. You've made your point. I'll think of something else."

"Good." Schultz cautiously released his grip and quickly reverted to his old self. "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to…"

"I'm fine. Thanks." Hogan straightened his jacket. "I'll be in my office if anyone needs me."

"Right, sir." LeBeau frowned at Schultz as Hogan's door slammed.

"I'm sorry, but he cannot leave this building. Those are my orders." Schultz mumbled to himself as he quickly escaped from the barracks.

"Jeez…" Carter jumped as the sound of a crash came from the Colonel's room. He started for the office but LeBeau caught his arm.

"Leave him alone."

"But…" Carter turned to Kinch for support but found none.

LeBeau signaled for Carter to help him with the lunch dishes. Quietly the two cleaned up while Kinch pretended to sleep.

* * * *

The barracks was just beginning to wake when the door blew open and Klink hurried through the common area to Hogan's room. LeBeau was instantly awake and out of bed. Newkirk and Carter were on their feet too and from his isolated corner bed Kinch was keenly watching. A moment later Hogan and Klink were on their way outside without a word.

"What's going on?" Carter followed the others to the door, only to bump into Schultz on his way in.

Schultz herded the men from the door. "It's too cold outside. We're having roll call in here today."

"Since when have you worried about the temperature?" Newkirk yanked on his jacket over his nightshirt. "What don't you want us to see?"

"There is nothing to see." Schultz made a half-hearted attempt to keep the men from the windows. "By order of Major Hochstetter…"

"Something's going on at the Russian barracks." Newkirk peered into the half-light of dawn. "Blimey, Hochstetter's goons are dragging something across the compound. I think it's a body."

"What?" LeBeau pushed Newkirk aside. "Mon Dieu! It is a body. Two of them."

"Stand back." Kinch ordered the others away, stood shakily at the window. He watched in silence, ignoring the babble around him. Finally he turned back to the group. "They're cremating the bodies."

"What?" Newkirk closed on Schultz. "Those men are entitled to a decent burial."

"The ground's too hard to dig graves…" Schultz mumbled apologetically.

"We would have dug them." LeBeau glowered out the window. "Klink knows that."

"I don't get it." Carter tried to peer over LeBeau's shoulder, but Newkirk tugged him back. "Klink always let us have a service before. It's not right to just burn them like garbage."

Schultz stared at his feet. "It is not the Kommandant. Major Hochstetter says it's regulations. To stop the sickness from spreading."

"A bloody lot he cares." Newkirk balled his fists. "I'd like to get that animal alone for five minutes…."

"Newkirk!" Kinch's command voice was marred by a fit of coughing. "It's alright. We don't have to be out there to have a service. God can hear us just fine from here."

"Right." Carter yanked off his cap and looked instinctively to Kinch.

The others did the same, forming a semi-circle around the black sergeant. Schultz moved discreetly into the background as Kinch recited the 23rd Psalm and gave a brief eulogy for the unknown airmen. Then –as quickly as they'd assembled – the men drifted silently apart.

"Wait a minute…" Schultz cleared his throat loudly. "We have to do roll call."

"Oh, leave off." Newkirk switched his nightshirt for his uniform.

"No. We have to have a count." Schultz looked hopefully at Kinch.

Kinch sighed. "Come on, guys. Let him do his job so he can get out of here."

The men grudgingly complied and Schultz hurriedly accounted for everyone in the barracks. The German headed for the exit, but paused at the door with a sharp exclamation.

"What is it?" LeBeau wiggled around Schultz and looked out the door. He quickly understood what had caused the guard to swear. Hogan and Hochstetter were in a shouting match by Klink's office. To his surprise LeBeau realized that Klink was doing his best to hold back the angry American, who seemed intent on disassembling the Gestapo agent. But Klink could only succeed at that game for so long…. "Colonel Hogan! It's an emergency! Colonel!"

"Blimey!" Newkirk shoved past Schultz into the compound. "Colonel! We need you! There's a bloody emergency!"

"Mon Colonel! Kinch is very sick!"

Carter stared at his shouting friends for a moment, finally had an epiphany. "Colonel Hogan! We need you quick! Kinch is really, really sick! Honest! He is!"

Schultz hurried across the camp, but Hogan had already backed off by the time he got there.

"What's the emergency?" Hogan ignored Hochstetter's ranting to address Schultz. "What's this about Kinch?"

Schultz shook his head. "Come with me."

"Put him in the cooler until he calms down." Klink was still solidly positioned between Hogan and Hochstetter. " You know how Americans are, Major – no control over their emotions. How they think they're going to win a war without discipline is beyond me."

LeBeau and the others watched helplessly from their barracks as Schultz led Hogan to the cooler. The group malaise was broken by a bout of coughing.

"Come on, Kinch." LeBeau guided his friend across the room. "You should be in bed."

"I'm ok." Kinch doubled over to catch his breath. "Just give me a moment."

"Colonel's orders." LeBeau helped Kinch to his temporary bed, the one closest to the stove. He tucked the man in as Carter appeared with a jug of water and an extra blanket.

"Thanks." Kinch leaned against the wall, tried not to cough on his friends. Hogan had emptied the adjoining bunks and ordered everyone to keep their distance, but that didn't seem to instill any caution in the others. Of course, his straying from his bed didn't help matters any, he realized. "Ok, guys, back off. You know you're not supposed to be around me."

"It's not like the governor's here to complain."

Kinch sent Newkirk a searing look. Newkirk retired to the center table with his deck of cards. Carter followed him, uncertain what else to do.

"You need some breakfast." LeBeau turned to the stove.

"I'm not that hungry."

LeBeau shook his head as he busied himself making soup. "In France it is an insult to turn down a meal cooked by a master chef."

"Sorry. Don't want to start an international incident." Kinch rested his head on his arms. "Wake me when it's ready."

"Oui." LeBeau exchanged worried glances with Newkirk. Kinch wasn't getting any better, Hogan seemed destined to clash with Hochstetter and Carter….LeBeau paused. Did Carter look pale or was he just upset? He didn't really want to know, but… "Carter, do you feel alright, mon ami?"

Carter shrugged. "I'm ok. My stomach's just a little upset."

"Oh, bloody marvelous." Newkirk laid the back of his hand on Carter's forehead. "You'd better get to bed, Andrew."

Carter shook his head. "I don't have what Kinch has. I'll be ok. Honest."

Newkirk looked to LeBeau, caught his answering shrug. "Alright, but you keep yourself warm."

"I will. Don't worry." Carter gestured towards Newkirk's cards. "Gin?"

"Gin?" Newkirk sighed dramatically as he dealt. "Listen to him – whole camp going to hell in a hand-basket and he wants to play gin."

"Americans." LeBeau concentrated on his soup. It wasn't much, but it was all he could do.

* * * *

The snow crunched underfoot as LeBeau carried Hogan's favorite meal to the cooler. Fried spam, powdered scrambled eggs and hash brown potatoes. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of his commander actually enjoying such slop, but he supposed that every hero had his faults.

"Halt!" Schultz met him at the door to the cooler. "I must inspect the food to make sure you haven't hidden anything in it."

"I know, I know." LeBeau squeezed past the guard into the building and unveiled the meal. "Don't take too long – it's already getting cold."

Schultz' eyes lit up as he noticed the contents of the tray. "You brought two dishes?"

"Oui, oui. You always eat half of the Colonel's meal anyway."

"Hmmm." Schultz dug into the food. "Next time you should bring some of those delicious dumplings you make."

"I cook for mon Colonel – not for you." LeBeau gestured to the cells. "Do you mind?"

Schultz nodded and spoke through a mouthful of food. "He's been pacing all morning. It will be good for him to have company."

"Pacing?" LeBeau followed the guard down the row of cells. Hogan had been tossed into the cooler many times over the years as punishment for 'escaping' or for momentarily losing his temper with Klink. When LeBeau brought him his meals he always found the same thing --- Hogan stretched out on his cot sleeping or daydreaming. Today, however, his commander had all the appearance of a caged tiger. LeBeau smiled as he noticed that Schultz was keeping his distance. He couldn't blame the German --this was not the laid-back, slightly fey man who organized basket-weaving contests and threw parties for his captors. This was an Allied Colonel and he was dangerous.

"LeBeau." Hogan was past pleasantries. "What's the status of the sick men?"

"No change, sir." LeBeau set his tray on Hogan's bed. "I brought your favorite dish."

"Thanks." Hogan smiled briefly. "How's Kinch?"

"No change." LeBeau toyed with his scarf, avoided Hogan's eyes.

"Something else?" Hogan towered over the smaller man. "LeBeau?"

"Carter…"

"What about him?"

"I'm sure it's nothing. Just a stomach ache." LeBeau forced a laugh. "You know Andre. He probably ate everything from his Red Cross package again. Newkirk's keeping an eye on him."

Hogan clenched his fists and closed his eyes. After a moment he exhaled loudly and slowly opened his eyes. "Ok. You and Newkirk do your best to keep things running till I'm back. That's all anyone can ask."

"Oui." LeBeau's tone softened. "It's all anyone can ask of you too, mon Colonel. There's nothing you can do while the Bosch animal is here."

"One bastard between me and …" Hogan broke off as he remembered Schultz' presence. "Pneumonia is no way for a soldier to die. Go down with your plane, die sabotaging a bridge –those are noble deaths. I can't just stand by while Kinch – while any of my men – dies by inches. There must be a way to get some damn penicillin."

"Colonel, you can't…" LeBeau turned as the door at the end of the corridor clanked open. The three men breathed a collective sigh of relief to discover the intruder was Klink, not Hochstetter.

"Schultz!" Klink entered in full bellow. "What is going on here?"

"Nothing, Heir Kommandant." Schultz quickly slid his dish to LeBeau. "I was merely supervising the prisoner's meal with my usual vigilance."

"And that requires you to feed your fat face?"

"Oh, yes sir!" Schultz drew to attention. "The little Frenchman might have been trying to poison the prisoner. It is my duty…."

"Dummkopf! LeBeau cooks for Hogan every day. If he'd wanted to murder him, he'd be dead by now." Klink jerked his head towards the exit. "Both of you – out of here."

LeBeau bid his commander a hasty farewell and quickly left the area. He ducked into an empty cell and laughed to himself as Klink continued to berate Schultz.

"Schultz! Lock the cell door before you leave!"

The unhappy guard nearly puffed past him, but did a quick double-take when he noticed the cook loitering in the cell.

LeBeau put his finger to his lips and gestured for the guard to join him.

"LeBeau!" Schultz tried to chastise the Frenchman.

LeBeau merely shook his head and whispered for silence.

"Go ahead and eat, Colonel." Klink's tone was formal. "I trust you've had a chance to reconsider your earlier behavior."

"I'm sorry I didn't kill the S.O.B., if that's what you mean."

"Hogan!" Klink sighed and softened his tone. "Are you so anxious to die?"

"No, but I'm tired of living like this."

"I know. I can have you transferred to an officer's camp once Hochstetter leaves. I know the Kommandant at Stalag 3. He follows the Geneva Convention."

LeBeau caught his breath as the moments ticked by without a reply from Hogan. He knew their commander was tired and frustrated, but would he really accept a transfer?

"Thanks, but no. I can't leave my boys." Hogan grumbled incoherently. "You know what I did before the war, Kommandant? I was a test pilot and a flight instructor. My biggest worry was keeping my girlfriends from meeting. Now I've got kids from Bullfrog, ND thinking I can walk on water." Hogan laughed bitterly. "Where the hell is Bullfrog and why would anyone want to live there?"

"I know. I'm responsible for boys too." Klink's voice dropped. "I have to send them to the Russian Front to die in the snow."

"And I have to watch mine die here." Hogan paused. "Kommandant, I know you're not part of old Scramblebrain's Master Race. I'm begging you –officer to officer - let me go into town to find some medicine before it's too late."

LeBeau turned away, a lump in his throat. He had no wish to hear his Colonel beg.

"If it was between us, but now…. You would only disappear."

"I give you my word…"

"You misunderstand me. If I let you leave camp now you would not escape. You would disappear into the night and the fog. No one would hear from you again – not me, not your men, not your family, not your government. No one." Klink's voice caught. "That is the power of the Gestapo."

Hogan swore and Klink mumbled something apologetic. LeBeau sensed the meeting coming to an end and signaled for Schultz to quietly head for the exit.

"…offer from Major Hochstetter. …"

LeBeau froze by the exit, strained to catch Klink's quiet words.

"He said to tell you he'll trade penicillin for information. I hope you have enough sense to ignore him."

"Trade?"

LeBeau held his breath, prayed that Hogan would refuse.

"Tell him I'll be glad to talk to him."

"Colonel!' Klink was shocked. "He's setting a trap. Surely you know that."

"Of course, but you know the old joke – Why did the compulsive gambler keep playing at the crooked card game?"

"What? Card game?"

Hogan laughed. "It was the only game in town, Kommandant. The only game in town. "

* * * *

"Are you sure this is going to help?" Kinch wheezed as LeBeau wrapped gauze around his chest. "It smells like a deli I used to go to in Detroit."

LeBeau scoffed loudly. "Shows what you know. My grandmother's mustard plaster is the best in the world."

"No offense to your grandmother. I just think you're wasting your time." Kinch doubled over as coughs racked his body. "Oh. If you're really my friend you'd just hit me over the head with a rock."

"Hold on, mon ami. Give the Colonel a little more time." LeBeau refused to concentrate on what their commander needed time to do. Instead, he turned his attention to Carter. "Alright, Andre, your turn."

"I'm alright. I'm not coughing."

"No." Newkirk scowled from his post at the door. "He just retches out his guts every half hour."

"I'm sorry…"

"Shh." LeBeau brought Carter a mug of tea. "You know he talks like that when he's worried. "

"What's this?" Carter sniffed the drink experimentally. "It smells good."

"It's chamomile and mint. It'll settle your stomach." LeBeau glanced over at Newkirk. "See anything?"

"For the fifth time, no." Newkirk kicked the door shut. "It would help if you'd tell me what I'm bloody watching for."

"The Colonel."

"I know that!" Newkirk yanked the door open an inch, resumed his watch. "The governor's been dragged into the cooler a hundred times. Why are you so all-fired upset now?"

"I'm not." LeBeau switched his attention to Carter. "How's your stomach? The tea helped, yes?"

Carter shook his head, put his hand to his mouth. "I don't think so."

"Oh, hell!" Newkirk grabbed a bucket and crossed to Carter. "Come on, mate. Not on the floor." Newkirk glared at LeBeau. "Wonderful. You've poisoned him. Are all your cures this good?"

"At least I'm trying to help!" LeBeau shouted at the Englishman. "All you've been doing is playing with your stupid cards!"

"Are you crazy!? Who do you think's been cleaning up after Carter all day?"

"Ok, you two. Stop…" Kinch's rebuke was drowned out by coughing.

"Hi, kids. I'm home." Hogan stood inside the door, cheerfully watching the coughing, vomiting and arguing. "Miss me?"

"Mon Colonel!" LeBeau colored. "We were…."

"Uh, right." Newkirk stammered. "We were…"

"Yeah, um…" Kinch cut off a cough. "The guys were…"

"Hi, Colonel." Carter wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Talked Klink into letting you go, huh?"

"Better then that." Hogan reached into his jacket. "Look what your favorite C.O. has for you guys."

LeBeau didn't look. He knew what Hogan had and what price he'd paid for it.

"Blimey! It's penicillin! How'd you manage that?"

"Simple. I'm a genius." Hogan grew serious. "Ok, fellows, we've got lots to do. Newkirk—Hochstetter's left camp, but I want to know the instant he's back. "

"Right." Newkirk headed for the door. "Are we expecting trouble, sir?"

"You never know." Hogan dismissed the man, focused on LeBeau. "I'm going to need your help at the Russian barracks."

"Yes, sir." LeBeau couldn't quite meet the man's eyes.

"Ok." Hogan clapped his hands. "Carter, you keep it in the bucket. Kinch, you keep it in bed. Once we take care of the Russians, we'll be back for you two."

LeBeau trudged across the compound after Hogan. His relief for his friends was tempered by his knowledge of his Colonel's betrayal. The word 'collaborator' screamed in his head.

"You ok, LeBeau?" Hogan studied him with concern. "You going to need a shot yourself?"

"No, sir. I'm just tired."

"Ok." Hogan didn't seem convinced. "Everything'll be back to normal soon. Then you can catch a few hours of shut-eye."

"Oui. It would be good to have things like they were before Hochstetter came."

"Uh-huh." Hogan looked as though he would pursue the subject but they arrived at the Russian barracks.

"Comrade Colonel!" Sasha saluted weakly. "We thought you'd defected."

"Not today." Hogan knelt beside the Russian's bunk, held out a vial of liquid.

"Medicine?" Sasha tried to sit up. "But we were told you couldn't get any."

"Frankly, I don't know what this is." Hogan shook the bottle. "This is courtesy of the Krauts. It might be penicillin, it might be poison. I'm afraid there's only one way to find out."

"I understand." Sasha surveyed the roomful of sick men. "For myself, a quick death is preferable to a lingering one."

Hogan nodded slowly. "Explain the situation to your men. Be sure they understand that this could be fatal."

"Da." Sasha raised his voice, addressed the room in Russian. After a moment he reverted to English. "They wish to try."

"Which ones?"

"All of them." Sasha laughed dryly. "Even those who believe that you are Klink's … uh… I do not know the word in English."

"That's all right, Sgt, I've heard them all. In several languages."

Sasha shrugged. "I merely interpret for the others. Comrade Colonel knows that I am loyal to him."

"Of course. Never doubted it for a moment." Hogan grinned as he prepared a syringe. "I'm afraid this is going to hurt. Probably a lot."

LeBeau forced himself to be cheerful as he circulated through the room administering shots. His eyes kept straying to Hogan, who was trying to joke in Russian with the patients. He gathered from the men's reactions that the Colonel's grasp of the language was poor, at best. Still they seemed to appreciate the attempt, just as he had always appreciated Hogan's atrocious, broken French. It had meant so much to him that a Colonel would try to communicate with a corporal. But now… LeBeau shook his head. Whatever Hogan had done, he'd done for the good of the camp.

"You ok?"

LeBeau was startled to find Hogan standing over him, checking his forehead for fever. "I…I'm alright. Just thinking…"

"Must have been some thought." Hogan yawned and scanned the room. "No one's dropped dead yet. I guess we can assume it wasn't poison."

"Oui." At least the filthy Bosch swine kept their side of the deal.

"Let's go take care of Kinch and Carter." Hogan draped his arm around LeBeau's shoulder. "Any sick in the other barracks?"

LeBeau feigned having a rock in his shoe so he could duck away from Hogan. "There are a few, but I can take care of them."

"Ok." Hogan was studying him again. "You sure you're ok? You're not my cheerful LeBeau."

"I'm your exhausted LeBeau." LeBeau shrugged. "Kinch and Carter are rotten patients and Newkirk is a useless Englishman."

Hogan smiled, though LeBeau knew he was suspicious. "One war at a time. Let's take care of the Krauts first, then you and Newkirk can re-enact Waterloo."

LeBeau nodded and mumbled brief answers to the rest of Hogan's comments on the way back to their barracks. As soon as they arrived he headed for the stove on the pretense of making dinner.

"Ok, Kinch." Hogan joined his radioman on his bunk. "What do you want to do – roll up your sleeve or drop your pants?"

"My arm's fine, sir."

Hogan winked at Carter, who was watching nervously. "Brave to the end."

Kinch winced as Hogan gave him the shot.

"Sorry, Kinch. I'm a pilot, not a nurse."

"Yeah, I can tell." Kinch rubbed his arm, shot Hogan a grateful look. "I don't know how you managed it, but I'm thankful to both you and God that you were able to pull it off."

"My pleasure." Hogan patted Kinch's good arm. "The radio truck's still here, so there's nothing for you to do but rest. That's an order."

"Right, sir." Kinch settled into a comfortable position.

"Ok, Carter." Hogan wiped the syringe with alcohol. "What'll it be?"

"Jeez, sir, I don't think I need a shot. I mean –heck, all I've got is a case of the flu."

"If I were you, Carter, I'd drop your pants." Kinch smiled innocently as he rubbed his arm.

"Well, gosh, I just don't know. I mean I hear it hurts less, but jeez it would just feel weird. I mean…"

Hogan sighed and rolled his eyes. He unzipped Carter's flight suit and quickly injected him while the sergeant continued to ramble. "Carter. I'm done. Go to bed."

"Huh?" Carter blushed as he realized that Hogan had already given him the shot. "Oh. Thanks, Colonel. I mean, I was kinda scared there for a while, but I knew that you'd take care of everything. I mean you're always there, boy, and…"

"Carter." Hogan gave the younger man a gentle shove. "Your bed is over there."

"Oh, right, sir." Carter grinned sheepishly as he crawled under his blanket.

"LeBeau, can you take care of the other barracks?" Hogan rubbed his eyes. "I could use some sleep."

"Yes, sir." LeBeau collected the medical supplies and started for the door, glad for the opportunity to be alone to think. Not that he had anything particularly pleasant to think about.

* * * *

"Colonel!" Newkirk bolted through the door. "Hochstetter's back. He's heading this way!"

Hogan glanced at his watch. "Hmmm. Sooner than I thought."

"Sir?" Kinch pulled himself to his feet, instantly alert.

"Newkirk, did you hide the extra medicine?" Hogan was at the window, his gaze fixed on the compound.

"Yes, sir." Newkirk joined Hogan. "Trouble?"

"Not if everyone stays calm." Hogan turned to his anxious men. "No one does anything, no one says anything. That's an order."

"Mon Colonel? What…"

The door was suddenly kicked open as Hochstetter and his men stormed into the barracks.

"Evening, Major." Hogan gestured his men away. "Social call?"

"You lied to me!" Hochstetter grabbed Hogan, slammed him against the stove. "You think you can make a fool out of me!"

"You? A fool? Heaven forbid!" Hogan ducked a fist, causing Hochstetter to hit the stovepipe instead.

Hochstetter howled, shoved Hogan to his SS guards. "Take him! I will teach him to play games with the Gestapo!"

"Uh…Major…" Klink stepped forward hesitantly. "Hogan is a Luftwaffe prisoner and the Geneva Convention …"

"Stay out of this, Klink!" Hochstetter advanced on the Kommandant. "This little pet of yours is a spy and a saboteur. Be careful that I do not charge you with treason for harboring him."

"Mon Colonel!" LeBeau watched in horror as the SS started to drag Hogan to the door. He tried to follow, but Kinch grabbed his arm.

"Behave, fellows." Hogan shouted. "Kinch, mind the store."

"Governor!" Newkirk tried to shove Schultz out of his way. "Let me go, you great tub of lard."

"Newkirk!" Kinch pushed LeBeau towards his bunk, hurriedly yanked Newkirk away from the guards. "Everyone calm down. Colonel's orders!"

"Bah!" Hochstetter kicked over a chair and shoved a young British private out of his way. "Soon your great Colonel will name names and you will all be up against the wall. I promise you."

"Why you.." Newkirk stepped towards the Major. Kinch pinned him against a bunk, his hand over the Englishman's mouth.

Hochstetter stormed from the building. Klink stood silently for a moment, gestured to Schultz. "Keep the men in the barracks until further notice."

"Jawohl!" Schultz noticed Kinch coughing, lowered his voice. "What about the sick men? Colonel Hogan would not like it if no one took care of them while he's gone."

"Ja, ja. Allow his adjutant to leave the barracks."

"But that's…" Schultz pointed at Kinch, who had released Newkirk and was leaning against the bunk hacking.

"Verdammen, Schultz! Handle it! I have other things to deal with!" Klink stalked from the barracks.

Newkirk cleared his throat in the stunned silence. "I'll see to the sick men, Schultz. Until the governor's back."

"Thank you, Newkirk. I'm sorry about the Major. I…" Schultz took in the angry, frightened faces." I'll try to find out what's happening."

Schultz gathered his Luftwaffe guards, herded them out the door.

LeBeau watched the scene in shock. Everything around him was moving in slow motion and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was still asleep. Vaguely he noted that Carter had been standing like a statue throughout the whole fiasco and hadn't moved yet. Kinch had used all his energy keeping everyone calm and had collapsed at the table. Most of the other prisoners were mumbling, staring or pacing. Only Newkirk seemed to be functioning.

"Come on, Andrew." Newkirk put his arm around Carter and led him to the table. "You know the governor. He'll sort out old Wolfgang."

Carter shook his head. "What'll we do without Colonel Hogan?"

"Hey, don't be in such a bloody rush to write him off." Newkirk patted Carter's back awkwardly. "Anyhow, you're not alone, mate. We're all in this together, right?"

"But this is Colonel Hogan we're talking about." Carter's voice shook. "We're going to rescue him, aren't we?"

"No, Andrew." Kinch spoke softly, but firmly. "The Colonel left standing orders in case this happened. We're to survive, at whatever cost."

"But we can't just sit around and do nothing." Newkirk clenched his fists. "They may have the weapons, but we have the numbers. I say we storm the cooler."

"And sacrifice dozens of lives to rescue one man?" Kinch shook his head, raised his voice. "Listen up, everyone. No one – repeat no one – interferes with the guards. We all carry on as usual. Those are the Colonel's orders and I'll have the head of anyone who goes against them. Any questions?"

The prisoners mumbled to themselves, but no one dared argue with Kinch. Even if he would have heard them through his latest bout of coughing.

"Well, I have to do something. Louie, can you make some soup? At least checking on our patients will give me a chance to see what's going on." Newkirk paused as he suddenly realized that LeBeau was sitting motionlessly on his bunk. "Louie? Mon ami, are you alright?"

LeBeau peered through the fog as his friends gathered around him. "I thought he betrayed us."

"What? Who?"

"Mon Colonel. I thought he'd turned collaborator. And now I will never see him again."

"Hey, Louie." Kinch was beside him on the bunk, wrapping a blanket around him. "Take it easy. You're not making any sense."

"No. I…" LeBeau shook his head, forced himself to focus on his comrades. "When I was in the cooler, I eavesdropped on the Colonel and Klink. I didn't tell him, but I think he suspects that I was there. And now…I should never have doubted him."

"What did you hear?" Kinch coaxed gently. "Do you know why Hochstetter took him?"

"Oui." LeBeau took a deep breath, met his friend's eyes. "He agreed to trade information for penicillin. I thought he had betrayed the Allies, but…"

"He lied to Hochstetter." Kinch slapped his hand against the bunk. "He played another one of his stupid games and he finally got caught."

"He did it for us." Carter whispered. "Because we were sick."

"Damn him!" Kinch shocked the others with the violence of his outburst. "Did he honestly think he could bargain with the Devil and get away with it?"

"No." Newkirk laid his hand on Kinch's shoulder. "He knew he couldn't pull it off. He just wanted to keep the bugger off balance long enough to get what he wanted."

"Long enough to save us." Carter turned hopeful eyes to his friends. "Jeez, fellas, we have to do something."

"We are, Carter. We're going to obey our orders." Kinch stared miserably at his hands. "We're going to survive, whatever the cost."

* * * *

"Is your stomach still upset?" LeBeau joined Carter at the table, tried to tempt him with a plate of oatmeal cookies.

Carter shook his head. "The medicine worked. I feel fine now."

"The Colonel would not want you to starve yourself." LeBeau glanced at the solitaire game on the table. Carter hadn't made a move in twenty minutes. "He'll be back, Andre."

"You don't believe that." Carter brushed his hair from his eyes.

"Oui, I do." For you, LeBeau thought, I will believe. It would be bad enough for the rest of them to lose Hogan, but for Carter… He shook his head. He and Newkirk were not willing participants in this carnage – they only wanted to defend Paris and London. But Carter had left his small town to find adventure and had found himself in the middle of the evil that was the Third Reich. Some benevolent providence had brought his plane down on his first mission, before he had a chance to truly experience life as a bombardier. That same good providence brought him to Stalag 13, where he'd been sheltered from the abuses of other camps. But it appeared that the young American was about to collide with the realities of war.

LeBeau turned anxiously at the sound of the entrance to the tunnel opening. Newkirk climbed up the stairs, looking pale and shaken. Newkirk, who knew more about the hazards of the real world than any of them, looked shaken. "How is he?"

"Still alive. The bastard's more interested in humiliating him than killing him." Newkirk crossed to Kinch, joined him on his bunk. The two bent their heads together, spoke in hushed voices. LeBeau felt his heart sink as Kinch covered his face with his hands. He didn't want to know the details. He tried to hold onto the thought that Hogan was still alive.

"I'm going down there."

"No, you're not." LeBeau caught Carter's arm. "Play your game."

"No!" Carter swept the cards from the table. "I'm tired of you guys treating me like a little kid. I want to know what's happening to Colonel Hogan."

"The bloody animals are torturing him, that's what's happening!" Newkirk shouted across the room.

"Newkirk." Kinch crossed to the table. "They're trying to break his spirit, Carter, but he's hanging in there. He wouldn't want you to hear what's going on. He'd want you to be safe up here."

"Then why does Newkirk get to go down there?"

"Because it's too dangerous for me to be in the tunnels so close to the cooler. One good coughing fit and I could give away our whole operation." Kinch glanced back at Newkirk. "Believe me, Peter doesn't want to go down there. But we need to know what's happening so we know what to expect later on. Does that make sense to you?"

"I don't know." Carter rubbed his eyes. "I guess so."

"Good, boy. You just…" Kinch turned at a warning call from the British private stationed at the door. A moment later Cpl Langenscheidt ran into the building.

"Sgt Kinchloe." Langenscheidt waved a piece of paper. "From Sgt Schultz."

"Danke." Kinch took the note, nodded to the young guard as he departed. "News from the cooler. He's unconscious."

"Ah. Merci Dieu."

Carter watched in confusion as the others expressed their relief. "Why are you happy? Doesn't that mean he's hurt?"

"It means the animals will leave him alone for awhile." Newkirk frowned. "No point in torturing someone who can't appreciate the pain."

"Oh. I guess." Carter considered. "Shouldn't we try to help him?"

"Oui. We should go to the cooler and.."

Kinch shook his head, held up the note. "Schultz says the SS guards are still there. We wouldn't be able to get anywhere near him."

"We still should take a listen." Newkirk headed for the tunnel.

"I'll go." LeBeau nodded at Carter. "We'll go."

"Right." Carter was on his feet. "We'll find out what the score is."

"Ok." Kinch caught Carter's arm. "No noise down there. No matter what. One peep brings the Gestapo down on all of us."

"I won't screw up, Kinch. I promise."

LeBeau mouthed 'I'll watch him' and led the way down the ladder. They crept through the winding passages until they drew near enough to the cooler to hear the footsteps of the guards on patrol. LeBeau squatted down along a wall, signaled for Carter to join him.

"Why do you waste your time?" A harsh voice drifted from the cooler. "That one will never see the light of day again."

"The Luftwaffe is responsible for him." Schultz's voice was full of concern. "It's against the Geneva Convention to let him bleed to death."

"Only those who intend to lose a war worry about the Geneva Convention."

"There are rules, even in wartime."

"You are as weak as you are fat. The SS doesn't take prisoners, so we don't have to babysit them."

"I'm not in the SS."

"What is going on here? Klink, you idiot, why have you let the Gestapo take over your camp?"

LeBeau beamed and slapped Carter's shoulder.

"I assure you, General, it is not my intention…." Klink rambled nervously. "Major Hochstetter….I called you as soon as I could…."

"What's wrong with Hogan?" Burkhalter shouted above their heads. "How long has he been unconscious?"

"Just a few minutes, Herr General." Schultz spoke urgently. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"Then get him medical attention."

"Jawohl, Herr General!"

"Bah! He is a spy!"

"What proof do you have? Why was he being interrogated? Hochstetter, I have told you…"

LeBeau signaled for Carter to follow him, hurried through the tunnel.

"General Burkhalter is here!" Carter shouted the news as he burst into their barracks.

"Yeah, we saw him drive up." Kinch stood at the door with Newkirk. "What'd he do?"

"He told the SS to get lost." Carter grinned as he joined his friends. "And he told Schultz to get a doctor for Colonel Hogan."

"You should have heard old Schultzie taking on an SS guard." LeBeau lowered the bunk that concealed their tunnel. "I'm going to make a special strudel all for him."

"So how's the governor? Did you hear anything?"

"Schultz said he's lost some blood." LeBeau glossed over his report. "It sounded like he'll be ok."

"Wait." Kinch gestured to the compound. "Looks like they're taking him somewhere."

LeBeau squirmed between Newkirk and Kinch to watch the scene outdoors. Schultz was carrying Hogan to Klink's car and putting him in the back seat. Klink ducked around Burkhalter and Hochstetter –who were arguing at the top of their lungs – and slid into the front seat of the car. A moment later Schultz drove out of camp.

"They're taking him to the hospital, right?" Carter grabbed a cookie from the table. "Everything's ok now, isn't it?"

"Sure." LeBeau exchanged tired glances with Kinch and Newkirk. Might as well let Carter be happy. The three of them could do enough worrying for everyone.

* * * *

"Hey! Klink's back!" Carter shouted the news, bringing everyone to the door.

"Ok, ok. Let's take it easy. "Kinch shooed most of the prisoners out of the area. "Let's not mob the poor guy. Just let him alone until we know what the situation is."

LeBeau craned his neck to see outside. Schultz opened the back door of the staff car and the barracks gave a collective sigh of relief when Hogan appeared conscious and on his own feet. Well, Schultz was supporting him, but their commander was definitely vertical.

Kinch was the first out the door and to the car. "I'll take him, Schultz."

"Jawohl." Schultz carefully relinquished his charge. "Be careful of his ribs."

"I can walk." Hogan mumbled as he collapsed against Kinch.

"Right, sir." Kinch put his arm around the officer, guided him towards his room.

LeBeau held his breath as their small group gathered around Hogan's bed. The Colonel's face was bruised, but any other injuries were hidden beneath Klink's heavy winter coat. There was something jarring about seeing his commander wearing German insignia. He could tell it bothered Newkirk too.

"Here now, let's get you more comfortable." Newkirk gently removed the coat and handed it to Carter. "Get this back to the Bald Eagle."

Carter took the coat, but didn't budge from the room. Like the rest of them, his eyes were intent on Hogan: on the bandages that circled his chest, on the cast on his wrist, on the bruises on his throat.

"Ok…." Hogan's voice was raspy. "…just need sleep..."

"I contacted London about a morphine drop, but I'm afraid all we have at the moment is whiskey."

"…don't need…been drinking schnapps…" Hogan winced as his back brushed against the wall. "Safe to use… radio..?"

"Yes, sir. The radio detection truck left with Hochstetter." Kinch turned to the silent men stationed by the bed. "Ok, guys, clear out. Let him rest."

LeBeau protested with the rest, but Kinch easily evicted them. He sat at the table with Newkirk and Carter and stared at Hogan's door.

"It's not fair." Carter whined. "Kinch gets to be in there."

"It's his job to see to the Colonel." LeBeau rested his head on his hand, suddenly exhausted.

"Well, it's going to be my job to see to the Major." Newkirk slammed his deck of cards on the table. "The two of us are going to have a nice long chat."

"Oui. I'll help you." LeBeau sat upright as the Colonel's door slowly opened.

"They worked him over pretty bad, but he's going to be ok." Kinch waited for the chorus of relief to die down. "He doesn't want to talk about it. As far as he's concerned, the topic's off-limits."

"But…"

"No buts, Carter." Kinch turned away to cough, then reclaimed his tone of authority. "Newkirk, we have to get word to the Underground. Let them know that our operation might be compromised."

"Right. I'll see to it."

"LeBeau, see if you can get Schultz to let you into the cooler. He'll want his jacket back."

LeBeau sighed. At least it was better than cooking for the dirty Bosch.

"I'll help you, Louie." Carter was on his heels, still carrying Klink's coat.

"Oui. Come along." LeBeau didn't really want company. He didn't want to be running Kinch's errands. But the one thing he did want – to find out for himself how Hogan felt – was verboten. So he set off on his errand.

"Do you think he's serious about not talking to the Colonel?" Carter whispered as they left the barracks.

LeBeau nodded. "You know the Colonel. He likes his privacy."

"This isn't about privacy! I mean, they hurt him really bad. If it was me…"

"But it isn't you." LeBeau halted, faced the younger man. "What do you know about the Gestapo, Andre?"

Carter shrugged. "Just that you don't want to be questioned by them."

"Oui. Because they are swine who kill the spirit as well as the body. I've seen Resistance leaders who have been guests of the Gestapo– it would have been better for them if they'd died."

"You don't mean that about Colonel Hogan!"

"Of course not." LeBeau resumed walking. "If mon Colonel wishes to forget what happened, I won't remind him. Neither will you."

"Right. I mean, I guess not. I mean I won't…"

"Schultz!" LeBeau waved the guard over. "We need a favor."

"What kind of favor?" Schultz studied the prisoners warily. "I do not want any monkey business today."

"No trouble. We just want to return the Kommandant's coat and get Colonel Hogan's jacket from the cooler." LeBeau flashed a genuine smile. 'And I wanted to thank you for taking care of the Colonel."

" I didn't do much." Schultz frowned at the cooler. "It's not good for you to go in there right now. I'll get his things."

"Thanks." LeBeau tried not to imagine what Schultz didn't want him to see. Instead he concentrated on the best meal to cook for the Colonel. Something easy on the stomach but tempting to stubborn officers.

"Here he comes." Carter shifted from one foot to the other. "Bet the Colonel will be glad to get his jacket back."

LeBeau mumbled a reply, too tired for idle chatter.

Schultz shuffled out of the cooler, quickly exchanged Hogan's jacket & cap for Klink's coat and attempted to hurry on.

"Hey, Schultz!" LeBeau followed the fleeing guard. "Where's his shirt? And his dog-tags?

"We threw out his shirt. His ID-tags aren't here."

"Well, where are they?" LeBeau circled in front of the guard, motioned for Carter to do the same. Schultz tried to dodge them, but was easily blocked. "You took his insignia off his shirt, didn't you?"

"Of course, but…" Schultz whispered nervously. "Major Hochstetter took them."

"What?" Carter looked to LeBeau. "Why'd he do that?"

"For a trophy." LeBeau spat in the snow. "Stinking Bosch!"

"LeBeau!"

Carter ignored Schultz' reprimand, concentrated on LeBeau's string of hostile French. "It's not really so bad, Louie. I mean, we know he's a Colonel."

"Oui. And if he's caught outside of camp without ID, he's shot as a spy."

"Oh." Carter frowned momentarily. "Well, Lon…"

"Carter!"

"Oh, uh…" Carter stammered. "I guess we better get back to the Colonel. He'll be wondering where we went."

LeBeau stomped back to the barracks, cursing the filthy Bosch all the way. He frowned at the sight of Newkirk running a craps game in the common room. How dare he gamble while their commander was in pain!

"Before you say anything…" Newkirk held out his hands for peace. "This is his idea. I'm just a lowly corporal following orders."

LeBeau shot the Englishman his best glare, skirted the bevy of gamblers to make a fresh pot of coffee. From the corner of his eye he saw Carter slip into Hogan's room. Kinch escorted him out a moment later.

Carter sat dejectedly on his bunk and surreptitiously brushed at his eyes. LeBeau glanced away to avoid embarrassing the young American. For himself, he was beyond sorrow. He wanted revenge.

* * * *