Not Everything is Solely About You

The Plot Thickens

“Well, how’d it go?” Kinch asked after the door closed behind Hogan. “You manage to find out what ol’ Blood and Guts has been up to?”

“‘Course he did.” Newkirk said. He was casually lounging on his bunk in his usual manner, idly flipping his knife from one hand to the other. “The guv’nor can accomplish anything if ‘e sets ‘is mind to it.”

“Not exactly, Kinch,” Hogan replied. “Klink’s pretty cranky today – my usual tactics didn’t work on him. Whatever’s going on, he’s playing it close to his chest.”

The Englishman shook his head. “Officers. Yah get used to ‘em comin’ through for yah; then they stop doin’ it! Drives me crackers.”

“I still managed to get some useful information, though,” Hogan continued on. He placed the scrap of paper he’d managed to swipe from the Kommandantur on the table. “Klink said he’s been there before, so he probably wrote the address down out of habit more than anything else. Heard it myself earlier when he was talking on the phone to some guy called Oberstrumfüher Nachtnebel.”

“Oberstrumfüher? That’s a…” Carter snapped his fingers a few times, trying to remember what the rank translated to in English. “A first lieutenant in the SS, right?”

“And Gestapo, yes,” Hogan confirmed with a nod. “What really gets me is what Klink wasn’t saying. Usually, he’s all too happy to pretend he’s the best catch around, but he outright denied having been going out on dates today.”

“Gee, that doesn’t sound like him at all,” Carter remarked. “Normally, Klink’s a lot more, uh…”

“Self-absorbed? Delusional? ‘Oping some bird will go out on a pity date with ‘im?” Newkirk suggested. “I ‘ave more, yah know.”

LeBeau snorted. “More like all of the above and then some, Pierre. Le commandant and his reflection have had an ongoing affair for as long as I’ve been here.”

“You don’t understand, fellas. He was white as a sheet. Whoever this Nachtnebel character is, he scared the pants off of our illustrious kommandant,” Hogan said. “Now I realize that’s not hard to do, but this whole thing doesn’t set right with me. We need to find out what’s going on.”

“How?” Kinch questioned. “If Klink won’t talk to you…well, even you’re not a mind-reader, Colonel.”

“We hitch a ride with him,” Hogan answered. “Carter, you haven’t been outside the wire in a few weeks, right?”

“No, boy…I mean, sir.”

“Then you’re on duty tonight. Hide out in the trunk of Klink’s car so you can follow him, see what he’s up to,” Hogan said, wrapping his arms around himself. “I expect a full report when you get back. And uh, no blowing anything up, huh?”

“You take all the fun out of fighting a war,” Carter sighed. “Guess that means I gotta leave the dynamite here then.”

“You’ll live.” Hogan quipped, smiling as he clapped the sergeant on the shoulder. “When it comes to secrets at this camp, the only people allowed to have any are us.”

“Aw, okay.” Carter looked up at his CO with a hopeful expression. “Can I blow something up tomorrow, Colonel? Pretty please? I got a real beauty downstairs –”

“We’ll see, Carter,” Hogan interrupted with a chuckle. “Let’s take one day at a time.”

“Right little pyromaniac, me mate is,” Newkirk said affectionately. “Yah can always count on ‘im to ruin a Nazi’s day.”

LeBeau nodded. “Oui, but it keeps him out of trouble…mostly.”

~HH~

 
The rest of the day passed without any drama. Various roll calls came and went, all with the usual joking around. There was nothing to hint at anything out of the ordinary. Inside Barracks 2, most of the prisoners killed time by reading or writing letters. They were too used to the shenanigans their commanding officer constantly orchestrated to stress over them. The Heroes, however, were too busy worrying about Carter to relax. That wasn’t unusual – the men who stayed behind always worried about those who went outside the wire. All of them knew being caught as a spy meant they would forfeit their rights under the Geneva Convention.

Hogan himself repeatedly walked up and down the middle of the barracks, a frustrated expression on his face. The situation with Klink had been bugging him all day. Furthermore, one of his best men was out there all alone. He preferred to have people go out in pairs if possible; that way there was someone to report back if anything bad happened. Tension was visible in his shoulders and face. Hogan continued to pace, only allowing himself to feel relief once a knock was heard coming from under the fake bunk.

“Cor, Andrew, yah look pale as a ghost,” Newkirk commented as his friend climbed out of the tunnel. “What ‘appened, mate?”

“Nachtnebel, he…” Carter swallowed hard a few times while he slapped the switch to close it. “He was torturing Klink, you guys. Punching him in the stomach, hitting him across his bare back with a leather strap, cutting him, pouring lemon juice on the wounds, and a lot of other stuff that was even worse. Called it interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” Hogan repeated. “For what, exactly?”

“He was demanding Klink admit you were Papa Bear,” the sergeant whispered. He shivered. “God, I never want to hear anyone scream like that ever again.”

“Mon Dieu,” LeBeau muttered. “Filthy Boche!”

“We gotta do something, Guv,” Newkirk said. “I ain’t got no love for Klink, but if ‘e says it on principle, we’re liable to ‘ave the ruddy Gestapo at our door.”

“Not to mention no man should have to go through that,” Kinch added. He turned to his CO, who was already pacing the room again. “What’s the plan, Colonel?”

“For one thing, we take this guy out permanently. Anybody that sick in the head isn’t someone I wanna risk escaping from an English POW camp,” Hogan replied with a hard edge to his voice. “For another, I’m going to go pay Klink a little visit tonight. He’s gonna tell me everything I want to know, even if I have to rough him up a little myself to get information. We can’t take the chance he might actually know something.”

“Do you really think he does, sir?” Kinch asked. “I mean, this is Klink we’re talking about here. The Iron Chicken. If he knew the truth, he would have already cracked to save his own skin…right?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to get some answers one way or another. In the meantime, I need you to find out where this creep lives.” The American officer jammed his crush cap on his head. “When you do, pass the information along to Newkirk, understood?”

Kinch nodded. “You got it, Colonel.”

“Good man. Newkirk, go pick a uniform and a gun. You get to play assassin tonight,” Hogan ordered. “Carter, grab a grenade or two and a uniform of your own. Once Kinch gives you the information, go with Newkirk so you can identify Nachtnebel. I want that kraut dead and proof of his death in my hand before dawn, is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” they chorused.

Newkirk stretched like a cat, causing the muscles on his chest and arms to ripple slightly under his white tank top. He’d been hitting the gym more to bulk up a little bit and it showed. “Another day, another Jerry. I’m looking forward to this.”

“Me too, pal,” Carter agreed. “I hate seeing people hurt, even if that someone is Klink. We could be stuck with someone a whole lot meaner than him.”

“Shush, mon ami,” LeBeau told him. “You will jinx us.”