A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love.

Colonel Robert Hogan was pacing again. His staff, all seated at the common room table, patiently waited and watched without comment as he went from the barracks door to the door of his quarters and back again.

The rest of the denizens of Barracks 2 occupied themselves with their usual pursuits while the meeting of the main team was going on, but they weren't oblivious to the situation. They knew that until they were needed, they could best serve the operation by staying in the background.

And with the atmosphere simmering with tension like it was right now, it was the better part of valor to keep your head down and your mouth shut.

But one of the members of Hogan's staff just couldn't take it anymore. Carter cleared his throat and ventured, "Say, Colonel..."

Hogan turned slowly and faced him. "Forget it! It's my call, and I'm going. Alone."

This was the cue for all of the main team to protest, and even the second string sat up and took notice.

Finally Kinch's even tones were heard above the commotion. "Colonel, why now? After all, three members of the Hammelburg underground were rounded up by the Gestapo not that long ago. And the rest of them—Max, and Karl, and Fräulein von Behler, and the Schnitzers—they're all suspending operations for the moment, on your recommendation. Why should you take this chance?"

Hogan folded his arms and heaved a sigh. "Because you know as well as I do that I can't keep our friends out of action for long. They won't stand for it, and it's their lives, their country, after all. We've gone through this before, you know. Remember a year ago when Colonel Feldkamp arrested Greta and her group?"

"And what a job it was, rescuing them and sending them to England," said Kinch.

"Which means they're no longer able to take part in the Resistance here," said Hogan. "And then there was our unfortunate experience with the North Star group from Düsseldorf..."

"That Myra bird was a menace to society, she was," muttered Newkirk, stubbing out his cigarette.

"Not to mention that filthy Boche Hindemann," LeBeau added. "The one who infiltrated the Hammelburg cell a few months ago."

"And Hindemann," Hogan agreed. "It's a very dangerous business to be a member of the Resistance anywhere, and Hammelburg has been hit hard lately. My job is to help rebuild what's left of the underground effort in Hammelburg, without losing any more members in the process. London's given us the green light to meet with this guy from Münnerstadt; apparently he's had considerable success organizing a group there, and would like to work with the Hammelburg people. But Max is very cautious about dealing with someone he doesn't know, and tonight we have the chance to see for ourselves if this Zimmermann guy is legit or not. You know that Max and I are the best persons to determine that."

"Could be a trap though, sir." Carter's usually cheerful expression was stern, and LeBeau nodded in agreement.

"This is true, mon Colonel. You may not even be given the opportunity to verify this man for yourself before the trap is sprung."

"Fellas, I've been doing this for a long time," replied their commander. "Trust me, I'll be careful."

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the men of Barracks 2, their conversation had been overheard by two pairs of very sharp ears...and two dark shapes made their silent way back to the dog pen.

A few hours later, a couple of weary and footsore canines wriggled their way back through the west fence of Luftstalag 13. Once they were safely in the compound, they faced their anxious leader.

"Well?" asked Wolfgang.

Bismarck shook his head. "We could only follow him so far; once he entered the town we had to turn back."

"And you were right in doing so," Wolfgang sighed. "There is no way we can operate in town without a guard on leash; we would be detected at once and reported to the authorities. Even a rumor of guard dogs on the loose in town could be disastrous. But I am very uneasy about Colonel Hogan proceeding unprotected on this mission."

Bismarck looked at his companion, and Hans cleared his throat. "Uh, sir, we took the liberty of assigning a security detail to the Colonel while he's in town."

Wolfgang regarded the younger dog in surprise. "A security detail? What do you mean?"

Hans's ears flickered a bit but he replied staunchly, "It's a Resistance group that has recently formed in Hammelburg. I can vouch for the leader, and he promised that he and his comrades would follow Colonel Hogan and protect him if need be."

Wolfgang said, "You can vouch for the leader? Ach, no! Don't tell me that they're a bunch of..."

"Cats," was Bismarck's gloomy response.

"Sorry, sir," Hans added.

The streets of Hammelburg were quiet and dark. But although the particular street known as Bäckerstraße appeared to be just as quiet and dark as the rest, there was unseen and unheard activity going on.

A meeting of Resistance agents was in progress in a back alley and the conversation was getting quite intense. Karla, who worked at the Hauserhof, was keeping watch, and she turned to her companions, vainly trying to get them to hush. Gustav, a big orange fellow whose usual haunt was the Hofbräu, was expressing his views quite forcibly to one of the meeting's participants.

"We have agreed to join your group, despite your dangerous association with an American working undercover as a Gestapo officer. And now you expect us to cooperate with those animals at the prison camp?"

The leader of the group, whose sleek coat was as black as the one belonging to his human, Major Hochstetter, glanced at Gustav and gave a shrug. "They are essential to Colonel Hogan's operation, you know. Two of them made contact with me just minutes ago, and they need our help. Helping them helps the Resistance: remember that." He looked around the group and emphasized, "Tonight that means looking out for Colonel Hogan."

Rudolf sighed. He was from the Ratskeller, and naturally felt a bit of competitive spirit regarding Gustav so he was inclined to disagree with him, up to a point. "I am all for helping Colonel Hogan, Manfred, but I have no wish to endanger my humans."

"Of course there will be danger," said Hermann, an elderly silver tabby. He worked for Max the grocer, and was very familiar with the Resistance connection to Luftstalag 13. "Our humans face danger every day."

Karla smoothed her calico fur and sighed. "I miss my human...my Greta."

"Keep your whiskers up," Hermann consoled her. "She is now safe in that place called England, and the sooner we can get rid of the evil human Hitler, the sooner she can come back to you. In the meantime, you have a home with Bruno at the Hauserhof, and you want to help him, don't you?"

Karla sat up straight and twitched her tail. "Of course I do! I am sorry that I was weak for a moment."

"We have been entrusted with a very important task," said Manfred. "Colonel Hogan is doing everything he can to destroy that monster Hitler, just as our humans are doing. It is our duty to protect him in any way we can."

"Ja, I agree," said Gustav. "But to consort with those...those...dogs?"

"War makes strange bedfellows, to be sure," said their leader. "It is time we all worked together for the common cause. And right now there is no time to waste."

Hermann and Karla and Gustav looked at each other, and then back at Manfred. Rudolf said with resignation, "Very well, Manfred. We shall follow Colonel Hogan tonight and do what we can to keep him safe. But I, for one, would much prefer that if we are forced to continue our association with the guard dogs of Luftstalag 13, that you be the go-between. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said Manfred. "Now, let's go find the Colonel."

It was not difficult to find Colonel Hogan: he was meeting with Max, Hermann's human, on a darkened side street near the dressmaker's shop, just as Hans had informed Manfred earlier.

Manfred turned to his team. "Hermann, Gustav, follow Max and Colonel Hogan, but keep out of sight. The rest of you, go on ahead and investigate the neighborhood on Lindenstraße: that's where they'll be meeting this contact from out of town. I want you to watch for anything that seems at all suspicious. I'll meet you there."

"Jawohl, Manfred."

After the others scampered off, Manfred leapt to the top of a brick wall overlooking the dressmaker's shop. He knew that his black coat made him invisible to human eyes in the darkness, and he narrowed his eyes as the two men concluded their brief, low-voiced discussion and silently made their way down the street. Two small shadows followed the humans and soon the four rounded the corner and were out of sight.

Manfred scanned the area briefly from his vantage point to make sure no one was following them. Then he jumped down again, landing lightly on the cobbles, and took off on a run for the Lindenstraße rendezvous.

By the time he reached the area Rudolf and Karla had completed their reconnaissance, and their alarm was readily apparent.

"There is a human lying motionless behind the trash cans in the alley," Karla reported breathlessly. "He is breathing, but he is not conscious. He has been hurt, I think."

"And his hands and feet are tied," added Rudolf. "But that's not the worst of it." He turned to Karla. "Tell him."

"There is another man, an evil man waiting at the rendezvous spot," she said. "I think he hurt the one lying on the ground, for his scent is all over the fallen man. And...I know this evil man."

"You're sure?" Manfred frowned.

Karla nodded; her back was arched, and her tail bristled alarmingly. "Ja, ja, it is he! He is wearing false hair on his head, and he has spectacles on, and he is dressed differently, but I would know him anywhere. He was one of those who arrested my Greta!"

Colonel Hogan and Max approached the site of the rendezvous cautiously, listening all the while, but silence reigned over the darkened street. A dilapidated building near the corner was their destination, and Hogan felt his heart beating a little faster as he and Max ducked into a narrow alley next to the building.

No matter how many times he did this, he was always acutely aware of the danger he faced when he had to confront the unknown, even if the unknown was someone he hoped could be of help to his organization. Zimmermann could be the key to a stronger and more effective underground group here in Hammelburg, and all Hogan could do right now was keep his eyes open and hope for the best.

And there he was! Hogan spotted a nondescript man of medium height, with thick grey hair and a mustache, stepping out of the shadows. Right on time, and just as London had described him. Hogan breathed a sigh of relief and knew Max was doing the same.

"The daffodils are fading," the newcomer said in a low voice, but before Max and Hogan could respond to the innocuous phrase, all hell seemed to break loose.

A yowling banshee leapt down from above and landed squarely on the man's shoulders. It was a cat! A cat, fluffed out to the size of two cats, and it clawed frantically at the man's face before it sank its teeth into the man's hair and yanked it from his head.

At the same time, two more cats appeared out of nowhere, clawing and biting at the man's hands. A fourth cat, almost invisible in the darkness and larger than the others, wrapped itself around the man's leg and sank its teeth into it, right above the kneecap.

Despite his frantic struggles, this was too much for the fellow, and he fell to the ground, striking his head on a brick lying nearby.

The cat-engendered cacophony abruptly ceased, and the cats all sat down and began to wash their faces. Except for the calico; that one dragged the detached wig to one side and disdainfully scratched at the dirt all around it, as if to cover it up.

Then the silver tabby looked up at Max and meowed triumphantly, and all of the other cats ran off into the darkness.

Hogan had pulled his weapon as soon as it was apparent the meeting was headed south, but astonishment over the unlikely attackers had held him frozen. He shook off his momentary paralysis and holstered the gun before he hurried over to the unconscious man. He knelt down beside the man, checking the pulse in his neck.

"He's alive." With a feeling of resignation, he reached inside the man's shirt and pulled out an identity disk. "And he's Gestapo."

Max shook his head, still dazed from the whirlwind encounter. "But Mama Bear was certain he was legitimate!"

"London said Zimmermann was legitimate. But I'm guessing this isn't Zimmermann," Hogan said grimly. "Why else the wig and fake mustache? Max, we really need to change the emergency frequency we've been using. Obviously this guy was aware of our meeting, and we walked right into a trap."

Max sighed. "Ja. But why did those cats attack him? Where are the cats, anyway?" He felt a tug on his trouser leg and looked down to see the silver tabby at his feet. "Hermann! You bad boy...what are you doing here?" He tried to scoop the cat up in his arms but Hermann wriggled free, running a few feet away and then looking back over his shoulder.

Hogan said, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think he wants you to follow him."

"Ja, I believe you are right. But let's take care of this fellow first."

The two men accomplished this swiftly, using Max's suspenders to tie the Gestapo agent's hands and feet. Then Hogan pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it between the slack jaws of the unconscious man. He got to his feet and he and Max followed the impatiently waiting cat.

In the next alley they found a remarkable sight: another unconscious man, surrounded by a phalanx of cats, two of whom were gnawing industriously at the ropes that held him. Hogan shooed them aside and knelt down. "Déjà vu all over again," he muttered. "But this one's grey hair and mustache are for real, and there's no identity disk. And he's starting to wake up!"

Hogan and Max assisted the real Zimmermann to sit up, and he opened his eyes slowly. "The daffodils are fading," he slurred, and his eyes drifted shut again.

"And so are you, it looks like," said Hogan. "But that's okay...you're with friends now."

The Twilight Barking was late that evening, and all of the dogs at Luftstalag 13 gathered outside the doghouses and listened intently.

"News from Bäckerstraße," reported Sieglinde. "Mission accomplished, and a Gestapo human taken into custody!"

"Sounds like Colonel Hogan and Max got more than they bargained for tonight," observed Hildegard, and the others all nodded.

"Well, I am glad they are safe," said Friedrich, as he scratched a thoughtful ear. "But this is sort of humiliating...a bunch of felines taking over our duties?"

"Only in town, because they can go where we can't," Wolfgang reassured him. "We need to take our allies wherever we can find them, after all."

"But...cats and dogs working together?" Bismarck shook his head. "Highly irregular, I must say."

Wolfgang smiled wryly. "Exactly."

A/N: Many thanks to konarciq, who introduced me to the delightful movie "Miss Minoes", which inspired this story. And as for the title of this story, I'll let you figure that out for yourself.