Newkirk prowled outside the Kommandant's office until Hogan appeared on the porch. He wasted no time with formalities. "Begging your pardon, Colonel, but I didn't know how long you'd be with the Bald Eagle."

"That's alright." Hogan followed him to a secluded area. "What's up?"

"Rumor has it that the Major and his crew are intending to make a break for it in the dog truck."

"Do you trust your source?"

Newkirk nodded. "It's Jackson. The one who started the riot when we were out tending to our mutual friend."

"Ok." Hogan consulted his watch. "We shouldn't have any trouble stopping him."

"Bloody blighter. Let me handle him, governor." Newkirk flashed a dark smile. "Being as you're still under the weather and all."

"Thanks, but I've been looking forward to this." Hogan grinned. "In fact, I think this is something the whole camp deserves to see. Spread the word – I want everyone who Anders has insulted to be in front of Barracks Two in ten minutes."

"That'll be pretty much the whole camp."

"The more the merrier."

"Right." Newkirk scanned the area for one of his mates. He spotted Carter whittling on a nearby bench, most likely trying to figure out what they were talking about. "Andrew!"

"Huh?" Carter lost no time joining him. "What's up? What were you guys whispering about?"

"The governor's bringing down the Major. Go tell Louie and Kinch to bring everyone from their building to Barracks Two."

"Ok, boy. You got it."

Newkirk hurried across the compound to the Russian enclave.

Sasha met him outside his barracks. "Zdrastvuitye, Comrade Newkirk. What brings you running to Moscow-on-the-Rhine? I see no tanks at the gate."

"The Colonel's sorting out Anders. He thought you might want to be there."

"Sorting out?"

"Having it out with him. Showing him who's in charge around here."

"Ah." Sasha translated for his comrades. "This we would like to see."

"Good. Come on, then." Newkirk couldn't help feeling a bit uneasy crossing the compound with a pack of Russians behind him. The Soviet prisoners generally kept to their side of camp, except for Sasha's visits to Barracks Two. He hoped that the sudden Red exodus didn't get the tower guards too nervous. "How's your secret project going? Getting anywhere near the treeline?"

"Stalingrad was not built in a day."

"I'll take that as a 'nyet.'"

"How is Comrade Colonel? He is enjoying living like a Czar in special quarters?"

"He's moving back into Barracks Two just as soon as he takes care of Anders." Newkirk tried to hide his irritation. "He's been pretty sick."

"Da. We have heard." Sasha dropped his cynicism. "He will have his revenge soon. When the camp falls, he can hang a guard from every tree."

"Ah, yeah." Newkirk forced all emotion from his voice. Hogan had long warned them that they'd have to protect the Luftwaffe from the Russians when the tanks rolled through the gate. Personally, he didn't fancy taking on the likes of Sasha to defend the likes of Klink, but he'd already promised the governor he'd be responsible for the Germans' safety at the end. How Hogan got him to agree to these things was beyond him.

"Now that he is well, perhaps there is Vodka?" Sasha forced a cough. "For medicinal purposes."

"We told him he owed you a bottle. I'm sure he'll be asking his friend for some, just as soon as he gets settled back into his old room."

"Ah. The kindly friend who sends him supplies as manna from above."

"Right. That friend." Newkirk steered away from the forbidden topic. Hogan had told Sasha just enough about the operation to convince him to keep the Russian prisoners under control, but not enough to jeopardize the lives of the Underground if Stalin and Hitler renewed their friendship. Of course, Sasha had learned a wee bit more during Hogan's absence --- something that the Colonel would no doubt rail about once he was fully recovered.

"Hey, Jackson!" Newkirk cheerfully abandoned Sasha in favor of the amiable Texan. " Hogan wants to see you."

"Me?" Jackson tugged his cap from his pocket and slapped it on his head. "Calling in the big guns to get some battle tips, huh?"

"He wants you to be his guest at a public execution." Newkirk grinned. "I think you'll enjoy it. I know I'm looking forward to it."

"Huh?" Jackson chuckled as he deciphered the invitation. "He's taking down Anders."

"Like the rabid dog he is." Newkirk whistled at a group of RAF men leaning against their barracks. "Grand show in front of Barracks Two."

LeBeau trotted up to join them as they approached their old home, followed by a dozen French airmen.

Newkirk's gaze was drawn towards the center of the compound. Hogan stood with Kinch, surrounded by a semi-circle of Negro prisoners. He knew Kinch well enough to know that each man there had orders to protect the Colonel if Anders and his men didn't go quietly into obscurity.

"This is just like the OK Corral." Carter bounded up to Newkirk and LeBeau, nodded a welcome to Sasha and Jackson.

"What?" Newkirk, LeBeau and Sasha spoke in unison.

"It's a shoot out." Jackson and Carter pantomimed a gun battle. "Take ten paces and fire at will."

"Ah, oui." LeBeau nodded. "The cowboys and Indians."

"Hey!" Carter feigned indignation.

"No." Newkirk lectured LeBeau. "It's the cowboys and the outlaws."

"More like the Hatfields and the McCoys." Jackson whistled. "Here comes the Black Hat."

"What?"

Carter pointed at Barracks Two. "Major Anders."

Schultz had apparently been pressed into service to summon Anders. The Major followed the guard a few paces into the compound, then halted as he became aware of the gathering crowd.

"Here comes the White Hat." Jackson explained to the Europeans. "Hogan."

Hogan was indeed heading for Anders. Strolling nonchalantly, though Newkirk knew the officer's body was most likely protesting every step.

"Uh oh." Jackson nudged Carter, pointed at the Kommandant's office. "The sheriff's in town."

Newkirk followed the Americans' gestures, saw Klink standing on his porch. Schultz and Langenscheidt scurried to his side, but seemed to receive no orders. The guards in the towers leaned towards the compound, but appeared unconcerned with the gathering spectacle.

"Major Anders." Hogan spoke loudly as he intercepted his subordinate. "I understand you have a problem with some of our Allied friends."

"Sir?" Anders scanned the pressing crowd. "I respectfully request that we discuss this in your office. I assure you I can explain…"

"You can explain what?" Hogan was clearly acting for the spectators. "That you're a disgrace to the Allies, to the Air Corps and to the entire U.S.? That the Krauts show these men more respect than you do? That you're an embarrassment to officers everywhere? Just what exactly do you want to explain, Anders?"

"Colonel, I…" Anders glared at the snickering audience. "If this is because I disciplined your aide, I can explain. Your so-called staff is insubordinate. They seem to have forgotten that they're enlisted, not officers."

"I'll put my enlisted men against your arrogant, no-nothing officers any day." Hogan paused for a burst of cheers. "Regardless of what you may think of the men in your command, Major, your duty is to protect them from the Krauts – not to drive them into escaping. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"What was that, Major?" Hogan turned to the prisoners. "I don't think they could hear you."

"Sir! Yes, sir!"

"Now repeat after me, Major. The French are our Allies. The British are our Allies. The Russians are our Allies. The Canadians are our Allies. The Australians are our Allies…."

Newkirk chuckled as Anders was compelled to go through the entire list of Allied nations, followed by declarations that Negros, Jews and Communists were all fighting with Us against Them. Then the man had to repeat the entire list three more times. Newkirk almost felt sorry for Anders. Almost.

Hogan finally dismissed Anders, who stormed into Barracks Two. The Colonel circulated among the prisoners, accepting their thanks and their well wishes. Newkirk shadowed the man, as did LeBeau, Carter and Kinch. Each of them was prepared to assist Hogan – as subtly as possible – should his body prove less resilient than his spirit.

"Colonel Hogan." Schultz weaved his way through the crowd. "Kommandant Klink wishes to see you."

"Ok. Be right there."

Newkirk tried to follow his commander, but was stopped by Schultz. He stood in the snow with his friends, his eyes on Klink and Hogan and their muted conversation. Whatever the topic, Hogan was grinning like he'd just sabotaged a fuel depot. "Guess he doesn't need our help."

LeBeau nodded. "Perhaps Klink is surrendering."

"Or maybe he's going to give us ice cream for dinner." Carter shrugged. "Well, it could happen."

"Kinch!" Hogan gathered his team together as soon as Klink dismissed him. "How long will it take you to desegregate those buildings and get moved back home?"

"Ten minutes?"

"Make it five." Hogan chuckled as Schultz emerged from Barracks Two with Anders and herded him towards the cooler. "LeBeau, take the Major some food and blankets. He's going to be staying in alternate quarters tonight and moving to a new camp tomorrow. Then get back to our barracks and chase those yahoos out."

"Oui, mon Colonel." LeBeau laughed and pointed at their building. Anders' men were quickly disappearing. "Looks like the rats are already abandoning ship."

"What about me?" Carter circled Hogan eagerly. "Do I get to move back too?"

"Of course, Carter. Go get your stuff and then make an inventory of the tunnel. If those cretins have ruined anything, I'll have them digging latrines for the rest of the war."

Carter saluted cheerfully and dashed across the compound.

"Newkirk."

"Saving the best for last?"

"I need you for a special mission." Hogan frowned. "Anders has to escape during his transfer and head back to London. I want you to arrange it, without the others hearing about it."

"What? Begging the Colonel's pardon, but are you bloody insane?" Newkirk stared incredulously at Hogan. "It's the blow you took to the head. Why don't you come back to your room and have a lie down? We'll…."

"Newkirk." Hogan draped his arm around the Briton, steered him away from the crowd. "Anders knows all about our operation and he's mad as hell. I don't need to sit up nights wondering who he's telling what. He goes back to London."

"Back home? While we sit here in this filthy camp eating garbage? While we creep around bowing and scraping for the Bald Eagle? He treats everyone like dirt and he gets to go back home?!"

"Yes. He goes home and we stay here."

"But, Colonel…" Newkirk pushed away from Hogan. "Why don't you send Kinch on your errand?"

"Do you really want me to do that to him? After the way Anders treated him?"

"No, but…Why me?"

"You're my pessimist." Hogan shrugged. "Who else would I send? "

"Alright, I see your point. But I don't have to like it."

"Thanks. I owe you one."

"That's for sure." Newkirk grumbled. "I don't suppose I could kill the blighter, could I? He'd be hard put to give away our secrets with a bullet between his eyes."

"How many times do I have to tell you? We're the good guys and …"

"…they're the bad guys." Newkirk sighed. "How about if I just maim him a bit?"

Hogan shook his head.

"A sharp rap on the side of the head?"

"Sorry, mate."

"Alright. If you're sure that's what you want." Newkirk muttered to himself as he started for the RAF barracks to gather his things. There was no justice in the world, that was for sure. But he'd already known that. Had since he was a kid.

"Hey, Newkirk." A young RAF gunner distracted him from his grievance. "Where's he off to?"

"Huh? Ah, blimey." Newkirk hurried towards the gate. "Colonel!"

Hogan paced by the fence, his movements of great interest to the guards in the towers above him.
"Colonel!" Newkirk approached the officer, being careful not to make any sudden movements that could startle the guards into firing. "Something wrong?"

Hogan seemed surprised to find the Briton beside him. "Newkirk? Something wrong?"

"That's what I asked you, sir." Newkirk did his best to subtly steer the man back towards the barracks. "You're making our friends up there nervous."

Hogan glanced upwards, seemed to be just realizing where he was. "Oh, sorry. Guess I was thinking about something else."

"No problem." Newkirk herded the officer far enough away to calm the guards. "Let's get you back to your room. Give us five minutes and you'll never know Anders was in there."

"I'm ok." Hogan pulled away. "I should radio London and make contact with the Underground. I need to find out what this new Gestapo man is like and…"

"We'll do all that." Newkirk laughed softly. "One thing at a time, governor. Let's get you well again, then we'll concentrate on the operation."

"I'm fine now. You guys can stop worrying about me."

"Right, sir. Whatever you say." Newkirk declined to comment on Hogan's appearance. He'd seen road kill in better condition. And he was only too aware that most of the Colonel's injuries were invisible. "Sir. There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Hmm?"

"It's about ….when old Wolfgang…" Newkirk took a breath, rushed on. "I was in the tunnel when you were interrogated, Colonel. I know what the bugger did to you."

"You know…? " Hogan averted his eyes.

"I know that you're twice the man I am. The last thing that'd be on my mind after that is the operation."

"Newkirk…" Hogan's voice was almost inaudible. " Did I talk? I can't remember…"

"You?" Newkirk laughed "Just name, rank and serial number. And the occasional curse thrown Wolfgang's way."

"I wasn't sure. I …"

"Don't give it another thought, sir. No Gestapo bastard can break you."

"I wish I could believe that." Hogan stared blankly. "I'm not sure I still have what it takes to lead a mission."

"Look, governor…" Newkirk cleared his throat. "You know I'm not one for getting sentimental, but you're our leader. We can't make it without you. Why, the minute you were gone, Kinch and me started squabbling, LeBeau went sullen and Carter….." Newkirk chuckled. "Poor Carter moped around the place like a wounded puppy. It was a disgusting sight. I had a mind to shoot him just to put him out of his misery."

Hogan smiled weakly.

"Now the way I figure it, even if you're only half what you were, you're still twice the man Anders is. That's good enough for us." Newkirk smiled magnanimously. "And if you need help now and again, I'll be here to bail you out."

Hogan laughed. "Now I'm really worried."

Newkirk nudged the man towards their barracks. "Time to be getting home, sir."

"Thanks, Peter." Hogan patted Newkirk's shoulder and briefly met his eyes. With a quick smile, Hogan was once again an arrogant officer and on his way to their home.

Newkirk shook his head as he followed the American. Life on the streets of London had left him few illusions about the dignity of humanity. Every man had his breaking point and he didn't doubt that Hochstetter had brought Hogan close to his. But he'd also learned over the years that there were those who bowed before Fate and those who dared to command their own destinies. There was no doubt in his mind which category Hogan fell into.

"Kinch." Hogan headed for his room, ignoring the chaos created by men moving in and out of the barracks. "I'm going to bed for a month. Maybe more. Shoot anyone who comes near my door. Axis, Allied – I don't care. Shoot to kill."

"Right, sir."

Newkirk flopped onto his bunk and silently monitored the hectic activity in the room. LeBeau was fussing over Hogan, Kinch was barking orders, Carter was getting under foot... All was normal.

Newkirk laid back on his lumpy, filthy mattress and whistled happily. He was back in the only place that had ever felt like home, surrounded by the only people who'd ever felt like family. It would never last, but for the moment it was enough.

* * * *