[Hogan's Heroes/MCU: Fiction] "Support Operations" [G]
Title: Support Operations
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 22, challenge 09 historical fiction
Word Count: 2,793
Rating: G
Fandom: Hogan’s Heroes/MCU - Captain America
Character(s): Robert Hogan, Kinch Kinchloe, Louis LeBeau, Peter Newkirk, Andrew Carter, Wilhelm Klink, Hans Schultz, Wolfgang Hochstetter, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Jaques Dornier
Summary: “The commandos will be waiting for us in the woods tonight. Their commander will have further information, our orders are to give them whatever help we can.”
Support Operations
“Message from London, colonel,” said Kinch, climbing out of the bunk frame from the tunnel below.
“A mission?” LeBeau asked, eagerly. “We have had nothing for weeks.”
“We take the assignment we’re given, corporal,” said Hogan, then added, “Is it a mission?”
Kinch nodded. “There’s a commando unit nearby, set to destroy a specific cargo shipment from Paris to Berlin. The Germans are planning to stop in camp with it sometime in the next few days.”
“And the commandos?” asked Hogan.
“They’ll be waiting for us in the woods tonight. Their commander will have further information, our orders are to give them whatever help we can.”
“The signal?” asked Newkirk.
“I’ve got it here, colonel,” Kinch replied, holding a paper out to Hogan.
The colonel took it, and nodded. “Then we’ll meet them tonight.”
*
There was a rustling in the trees ahead and Hogan froze, signaling Carter and Newkirk to stop. He flicked his flashlight on and off in the challenge signal, and another light, a few yards away, gave the reply.
As the approached, Hogan called softly, “It’s a fine night for sight-seeing.”
There was a pause, then a distinctly American voice said, “Damn, what was that counter-sign again?”
“Dum-Dum,” chorused several more voices.
“Hang on, I’ve got it - More than fine, with the right company. What kind of stupid pick-up line is that?”
“The right one,” said Hogan. “C’mon, fellas, let’s get you back to camp.”
Several figures emerged from the trees, dressed in black with grease paint on their faces, just like Hogan’s men. One of them held out his hand, “Captain Rogers and the One-Oh-Seventh,” he said.
Hogan shook it. “Colonel Hogan, senior POW officer of Stalag Thirteen.”
“POW?” repeated the man that the others had called ‘Dum-Dum’. “You escaped?”
“No, we’re just taking some air,” said Hogan. “We need to be back by roll call. Do you have any gear to bring with you?”
“A few explosives,” said Rogers.
As he turned, the pack he was carrying slipped from his shoulder, and Carter reached out to catch it, “Oh, let me help you with that…”
The bag hadn’t looked heavy, but Carter dropped it in surprise - the flap had come open to reveal a familiar red-white-and-blue disk.
“Gosh, you’re Captain America,” Carter breathed. “You’re-”
“Let’s not talk about that here,” interrupted one of the commandos.
Rogers nodded. “Bucky’s right, we shouldn’t stay out here. Lead the way, colonel.”
*
“This is quite the set-up,” said Dum-Dum - his proper name was apparently Sergeant Dugan.
“We all do what we can for the war effort,” said Hogan.
Behind them, LeBeau had discovered that another commando, Dernier, was a fellow Frenchman and the two were conversing rapidly in their native language. Carter and Newkirk had been given permission to hold Captain America’s shield - not by Rogers, but by his second-in-command, Sergeant Barnes, who was cheerfully demonstrating the proper way to use it. Rogers and the last three members of their unit - Jones, Falsworth and Morita - were checking the explosives they’d brought with them into the tunnels.
“Everything looks okay,” said Rogers. “But I’m not sure it will be enough. Colonel Hogan, would your unit be able to get more?”
“Boy would we!” Carter said eagerly, then, “Uh, with your permission, colonel?”
Hogan smiled. “Carter is our explosives expert,” he explained. “He’ll get you anything you need.”
“Then he’d better hurry,” said Kinch, joining them. “A big nasty-looking truck just pulled into the center of camp.”
“Gestapo?” asked Newkirk.
Kinch shook his head. “Worse. Even if their logo is an octopus.”
“Hydra,” hissed Rogers.
Barnes clapped him on the shoulder. “You were right, Stevie. What’s the plan?”
“This is Colonel Hogan’s backyard,” said Rogers. “And he’s the ranking officer.”
“Thank you, captain,” said Hogan. “Allow me to show you our communications room…”
*
Klink looked up, scowling, when his office door opened.
“I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed, dummkopf," he snapped.
Shultz came inside. “You did, commandant,” he said, “but the major was very insistent.”
“What major? How am I supposed to get any work done with all of these interruptions!?”
“My apologies, Herr Commandant,” said Shultz. “I will tell the Hydra major to come back later.”
“H-hydra?” spluttered Klink. “Why didn’t you say that? Show him in, show him in!”
Before the sergeant could turn back to the door, the major had come in behind him.
“I am Major Von Abn,” he said.
He was tall and severe-looking, wearing the dark uniform of an SS officer, though his armband had a stylized octopus instead of a swastika.
Klink leaped to his feet. “Herr Major, welcome to Stalag Thirteen. May I offer you some brandy?”
“This is not a social call,” snapped Von Abn. “I am on my way to Berlin, transporting a very important, very valuable piece of equipment to the Fuhrer.”
“The Fuhrer,” gasped Klink. “Of course, major, whatever you need.”
“The truck outside must be guarded at all times. No one may approach, not even other members of your staff.”
“Of course,” Klink repeated. “How long will you be here?”
Von Abn glared. “As long as we wish.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Klink, miserably, then straightened. “It will be done immediately, Herr Major. Shultz…”
*
Hogan put the lid back onto the coffee pot radio receiver and looked across the table at Rogers.
“We have to get a look at that machine,” the captain said. “We were told that he only had some of the parts to assemble it, but if he’s got the whole thing…”
“Leave it to us,” said Hogan.
A few minutes later, a small gaggle of prisoners moved across the yard, tossing an American football between them. Newkirk and Kinch worked their way out of the group to approach Shultz, who stood at the tailgate of the Hydra trick with his rifle.
Carter continued passing the ball to the last member of their group - the 107th’s Dernier - until they had rounded behind Shultz. Then, he began throwing it straight up, catching it again each time with an audible smack as Dernier ducked under the canvas covering the side of the truck.
“You cannot be here!” Shultz said. “No one comes near the truck. I have my orders!”
“It’s just us, Shultz,” said Newkirk, but they seemed to have already reached the end of the sergeant’s patience.
“You will have to leave,” he insisted. “All of… there were four of you. Where are the other two?”
“Right here, Shultz,” said Carter, stepping into view. As he went, he kicked the tire of the truck to signal Dernier, who quickly slid out to stand beside him.
Dernier tried to duck his face under the bill of his ball cap, but Shultz spotted him immediately. “Who is this?” he demanded.
“Come on, now, Shultz.” Hogan strolled over to join them, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “That’s LeBeau.”
“Jolly jokers,” the sergeant scoffed. “Who is this?”
“We only have one Frenchman,” Hogan insisted. “Aren’t you French, corporal?”
“Oui, colonel,” said Dernier.
“There, see? LeBeau.”
“He is not-” Shultz began, then let out a noise of frustration. “I see nothing, I hear nothing, I know nothing.”
“That’s the ticket, Shultz,” said Hogan, and led the others back to the barracks.
Rogers was waiting for them. “Did you see it?” he demanded. “Did they see you?”
“Yes,” said Dernier. “And… yes.”
“Jacques…”
“It was only Shultz,” said Hogan. “He regularly doesn’t see the things he sees.”
“He won’t report us?” Rogers pressed.
“Nah,” said Carter. “He may not be on our side, but he’s not entirely on the other side, either.”
“Right. Jacques, the machine?”
Dernier paused. “It sure looks in working order to me, Cap. And very much like the serum chamber you described to us.”
“Serum chamber?” repeated Newkirk.
Rogers shook his head. “It’s probably better if you don’t know, corporal. But let’s just say that letting the Nazis - and especially Hydra - keep it is a very bad idea.”
“So, we blow it up,” said Carter.
“Not while it’s still in camp,” Hogan corrected. “The major said he was taking this thing to Berlin. Once the truck leaves Stalag Thirteen, we can arrange for it to have… an accident.”
“But how can we plan on that, colonel?” asked Carter. “Accidents don’t just happen accidentally.”
“Not unless we cause them.”
“Oh,” the sergeant said, then brightened. “Oh! We blow it up.”
“Yes, Carter, we do.”
*
The staff car had barely come to a stop when Major Hochstetter had gotten out and was marching up the steps to the commandant’s office. Hogan slipped in soundlessly behind him.
“Ah, Major Hochstetter,” said Klink. “What a pleasant-”
“What is the meaning of this?” Hochstetter demanded.
Von Abn, helping himself to a glass of Klink’s brandy, did not look over at him. “This is a Hydra matter.”
“The Gestapo has authority in this area,” Hochstetter countered. “We cannot leave the security of Germany to… to mad scientists and their potions.”
“Those ‘potions’ are the future of the Third Reich, Major Hochstetter.”
“Fairy stories,” scoffed Hochstetter. “You Hydra are always coming up with fantastic tales and what do you have to show for it? Nothing. The Gestapo gets results.”
“Oh, that is true,” said Hogan. “The Gestapo has an impressive reputation around here.”
Hochstetter scowled. “What is this man doing here?”
“Defending your honor, apparently,” said Hogan. “Us Allied troops are much more scared of the Gestapo than we are of Hydra.”
Von Abn’s smile was far from friendly. “That is a mistake on your part, colonel.”
Hogan grinned. “How else do we learn, major?”
“Pain is usually an effective teacher,” said Von Abn.
“Oh, you know her, too?” asked Hogan, all innocent surprise.
“Her?” repeated Hochstetter.
“Mrs. Payne,” said Hogan. “She taught third grade at West Side Elementary. I should have known she’d join your side, she always had a mean streak.”
“Hogan…” began Klink, warningly.
“I’m sorry, colonel, that isn’t what I came here to talk to you about.”
Klink sighed. “What do you want, Hogan?”
“Since you’re entertaining guests, Corporal LeBeau was wondering if you would be willing to trade his culinary services for an extra hour of electricity each night for a week.”
“I-” Klink began, but Von Abn interrupted, “Absolutely not.”
“The Frenchman is an excellent cook, major,” said Klink.
Von Abn snorted. “I do not eat food prepared by prisoners,” he sneered.
“Your loss,” said Hochstetter. “He really is a fine cook.”
“Is that a ‘no’, then?” asked Hogan.
“Yes, that’s a ‘no’,” snapped Klink. “Major Von Abn, Major Hochstetter, perhaps I can interest you in-”
“You cannot,” interrupted Von Abn. “Colonel Klink, you will instruct your guards that anyone approaching the Hydra truck is to be shot on sight. Including any Gestapo officers.”
“I… well…” said Klink.
“Bah!” cried Hochstetter, and stormed out of the office.
“Major-” Klink began.
“The rest of my troops will be here tomorrow, Klink,” Von Abn interrupted. “And we will leave for Berlin. If anything happens to my equipment before then, I will hold you personally responsible.”
“Of course, major,” said Klink, miserably.
The Hydra officer turned to leave, stopping to glare at Hogan, who merely smiled and said, “We’re in Barracks Three if you change your mind.”
Von Abn pushed past him and left.
*
“Tomorrow?” said Dugan, accepting a mug of coffee as LeBeau took the non-bugged pot from the stove. “Why not blow it up now?”
“Because we have to make it look like we weren’t involved,” Hogan told him. “We have to keep working here after you fellas ship out.”
“And it’s safer for everyone to have explosions go off outside of camp,” said Carter. Then, he paused. “Well, not everyone. Because we usually blow up supply trucks and staff cars, and there’s usually somebody inside ‘em and that’s not really-”
“We get the idea, Carter,” Hogan interrupted gently.
“Right, colonel.”
“But once Von Abn has taken the truck out of camp,” continued Kinch, “It can blow up all it likes.”
“That sounds like a plan,” agreed Rogers. “How do we-?”
“Shultz is coming!” hissed Newkirk, who had been stationed as lookout.
The two commandos looked wildly toward the trapdoor bunk, where the rest of their unit was still waiting below, but Hogan said, “No time to hide. Blend in!”
When Shultz opened the door a moment later, he found the prisoners in order. Five were sitting at the table playing cards, nine were lying on their bunks, and three were standing around the stove.
Wait…
Shultz stopped, looking around, then counted aloud, “…sixteen, seventeen. Seventeen,” he repeated. “Colonel Hogan…”
“They’re just passing through, Shultz,” Hogan assured him. “They’ll all be gone by roll call.”
“All…” said Shultz, then shook his head. “I see nothing.”
“That’s a good idea,” the colonel agreed. “Then you don’t want to hear about our plan for the Hydra major’s truck?”
“No, no, no, colonel, I am going to-”
Shultz had turned to leave, but his rifle hit the mattress of the nearest bunk, which clanged loudly. He pulled back to blanket for reveal and red-white-and-blue painted shield.
“What is this?” he demanded.
“Oh, that’s a new hubcap for the commandant’s staff car,” said Hogan. “We just painted it, so we put it in the bunk to keep it warm.”
“Colonel Hogan,” said Shultz.
“Would you believe we just found it?”
“Colonel Hogan, that is - that is Captain America’s shield.” Shultz whirled on the men sitting at the table. “And you are Captain America!”
Rogers took a deep breath, clearly calculating his options, but Shultz continued, awed, “Oh, I have seen all of your news reels!”
“You have?” Rogers asked.
“Oh, yes,” said the sergeant. “Of course, they are German news reels, so they all say what a big nasty villain you are, but I don’t believe it. You seem like such a nice fellow.”
Rogers blinked. “Thank you?”
Shultz beamed. “Colonel Hogan, I could be persuaded to keep your visitors to myself if…”
“If?” Hogan repeated.
“If Captain America will sign an autograph for my nephew, Wolfie.”
“Oh!” said Rogers. “Yes, of course, do you have a pen?”
*
The Hydra men arrived during the morning roll call. There were only a dozen of them, but they managed to look as dangerous as a tank division as their open-topped cars pulled into formation around the equipment truck.
Major Hochstetter’s staff car had been right behind them, and when Klink crossed to meet him, Hogan followed.
“Leaving us so soon?” the American colonel asked Von Abn.
The Hydra officer scowled. “Klink, you should teach your prisoners some manners.”
“Would you, colonel?” Hogan asked, false-innocent. “You know how my men look up to you, they’d be grateful for anything you could teach them.”
“What is this man doing here?” Hochstetter demanded.
“I’m just here to see our guest off,” replied Hogan. “It’s only polite.”
Von Abn snorted. “You will not be so humorous, colonel, when Hydra is victorious and your American military is crushed under our heels.”
“I didn’t know octopuses wore shoes.”
The German major scowled, then turned without another word and signaled his men back to their vehicles.
As the Hydra trucks disappeared, Hochstetter said, “That man in infuriating.”
“Now, major,” said Klink, “Hydra is the future of the reich and-” At the other man’s glare, he corrected, “-infuriating, absolutely.”
Just then, a huge explosion rocked the camp.
“That came from the direction the Hydra men went…” said Hochstetter.
“What?” Klink asked. “How…?”
“I heard Major Von Abn say that his equipment could be unstable if handled incorrectly,” said Hogan. “Didn’t you hear that, major?”
Hochstetter nodded slowly. “Ja,” he said. “Ja, that’s exactly what I heard. Hydra incompetence, of course.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” echoed Klink.
*
“The Underground agent will meet you on the other end of the emergency tunnel,” said Hogan. “And take you the rest of the way.”
The men of the Howling Commandos were all dressed as German civilians, waiting at the entrance of the tunnel.
Rogers held out his hand. “Thank you, colonel,” he said. “What you and your men are doing here…”
“Everyone contributes to the war effort in their own way,” said Hogan. “Good luck, captain.”
He clapped LeBeau on the shoulder, signaling he should escort the Commandos out, then turned back to the rest of his men.
“C’mon, all of you, back to work.”
Kinch snorted a laugh. “No rest for the wicked, huh, colonel?”
Hogan offered a smile. “Just another day for the unsung heroes.”
“Maybe someday somebody will make a comic book about us,” suggested Carter. “Or a TV show!”
There was a beat, then everyone laughed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Silly idea.”
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 22, challenge 09 historical fiction
Word Count: 2,793
Rating: G
Fandom: Hogan’s Heroes/MCU - Captain America
Character(s): Robert Hogan, Kinch Kinchloe, Louis LeBeau, Peter Newkirk, Andrew Carter, Wilhelm Klink, Hans Schultz, Wolfgang Hochstetter, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Jaques Dornier
Summary: “The commandos will be waiting for us in the woods tonight. Their commander will have further information, our orders are to give them whatever help we can.”
Support Operations
“Message from London, colonel,” said Kinch, climbing out of the bunk frame from the tunnel below.
“A mission?” LeBeau asked, eagerly. “We have had nothing for weeks.”
“We take the assignment we’re given, corporal,” said Hogan, then added, “Is it a mission?”
Kinch nodded. “There’s a commando unit nearby, set to destroy a specific cargo shipment from Paris to Berlin. The Germans are planning to stop in camp with it sometime in the next few days.”
“And the commandos?” asked Hogan.
“They’ll be waiting for us in the woods tonight. Their commander will have further information, our orders are to give them whatever help we can.”
“The signal?” asked Newkirk.
“I’ve got it here, colonel,” Kinch replied, holding a paper out to Hogan.
The colonel took it, and nodded. “Then we’ll meet them tonight.”
*
There was a rustling in the trees ahead and Hogan froze, signaling Carter and Newkirk to stop. He flicked his flashlight on and off in the challenge signal, and another light, a few yards away, gave the reply.
As the approached, Hogan called softly, “It’s a fine night for sight-seeing.”
There was a pause, then a distinctly American voice said, “Damn, what was that counter-sign again?”
“Dum-Dum,” chorused several more voices.
“Hang on, I’ve got it - More than fine, with the right company. What kind of stupid pick-up line is that?”
“The right one,” said Hogan. “C’mon, fellas, let’s get you back to camp.”
Several figures emerged from the trees, dressed in black with grease paint on their faces, just like Hogan’s men. One of them held out his hand, “Captain Rogers and the One-Oh-Seventh,” he said.
Hogan shook it. “Colonel Hogan, senior POW officer of Stalag Thirteen.”
“POW?” repeated the man that the others had called ‘Dum-Dum’. “You escaped?”
“No, we’re just taking some air,” said Hogan. “We need to be back by roll call. Do you have any gear to bring with you?”
“A few explosives,” said Rogers.
As he turned, the pack he was carrying slipped from his shoulder, and Carter reached out to catch it, “Oh, let me help you with that…”
The bag hadn’t looked heavy, but Carter dropped it in surprise - the flap had come open to reveal a familiar red-white-and-blue disk.
“Gosh, you’re Captain America,” Carter breathed. “You’re-”
“Let’s not talk about that here,” interrupted one of the commandos.
Rogers nodded. “Bucky’s right, we shouldn’t stay out here. Lead the way, colonel.”
*
“This is quite the set-up,” said Dum-Dum - his proper name was apparently Sergeant Dugan.
“We all do what we can for the war effort,” said Hogan.
Behind them, LeBeau had discovered that another commando, Dernier, was a fellow Frenchman and the two were conversing rapidly in their native language. Carter and Newkirk had been given permission to hold Captain America’s shield - not by Rogers, but by his second-in-command, Sergeant Barnes, who was cheerfully demonstrating the proper way to use it. Rogers and the last three members of their unit - Jones, Falsworth and Morita - were checking the explosives they’d brought with them into the tunnels.
“Everything looks okay,” said Rogers. “But I’m not sure it will be enough. Colonel Hogan, would your unit be able to get more?”
“Boy would we!” Carter said eagerly, then, “Uh, with your permission, colonel?”
Hogan smiled. “Carter is our explosives expert,” he explained. “He’ll get you anything you need.”
“Then he’d better hurry,” said Kinch, joining them. “A big nasty-looking truck just pulled into the center of camp.”
“Gestapo?” asked Newkirk.
Kinch shook his head. “Worse. Even if their logo is an octopus.”
“Hydra,” hissed Rogers.
Barnes clapped him on the shoulder. “You were right, Stevie. What’s the plan?”
“This is Colonel Hogan’s backyard,” said Rogers. “And he’s the ranking officer.”
“Thank you, captain,” said Hogan. “Allow me to show you our communications room…”
*
Klink looked up, scowling, when his office door opened.
“I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed, dummkopf," he snapped.
Shultz came inside. “You did, commandant,” he said, “but the major was very insistent.”
“What major? How am I supposed to get any work done with all of these interruptions!?”
“My apologies, Herr Commandant,” said Shultz. “I will tell the Hydra major to come back later.”
“H-hydra?” spluttered Klink. “Why didn’t you say that? Show him in, show him in!”
Before the sergeant could turn back to the door, the major had come in behind him.
“I am Major Von Abn,” he said.
He was tall and severe-looking, wearing the dark uniform of an SS officer, though his armband had a stylized octopus instead of a swastika.
Klink leaped to his feet. “Herr Major, welcome to Stalag Thirteen. May I offer you some brandy?”
“This is not a social call,” snapped Von Abn. “I am on my way to Berlin, transporting a very important, very valuable piece of equipment to the Fuhrer.”
“The Fuhrer,” gasped Klink. “Of course, major, whatever you need.”
“The truck outside must be guarded at all times. No one may approach, not even other members of your staff.”
“Of course,” Klink repeated. “How long will you be here?”
Von Abn glared. “As long as we wish.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Klink, miserably, then straightened. “It will be done immediately, Herr Major. Shultz…”
*
Hogan put the lid back onto the coffee pot radio receiver and looked across the table at Rogers.
“We have to get a look at that machine,” the captain said. “We were told that he only had some of the parts to assemble it, but if he’s got the whole thing…”
“Leave it to us,” said Hogan.
A few minutes later, a small gaggle of prisoners moved across the yard, tossing an American football between them. Newkirk and Kinch worked their way out of the group to approach Shultz, who stood at the tailgate of the Hydra trick with his rifle.
Carter continued passing the ball to the last member of their group - the 107th’s Dernier - until they had rounded behind Shultz. Then, he began throwing it straight up, catching it again each time with an audible smack as Dernier ducked under the canvas covering the side of the truck.
“You cannot be here!” Shultz said. “No one comes near the truck. I have my orders!”
“It’s just us, Shultz,” said Newkirk, but they seemed to have already reached the end of the sergeant’s patience.
“You will have to leave,” he insisted. “All of… there were four of you. Where are the other two?”
“Right here, Shultz,” said Carter, stepping into view. As he went, he kicked the tire of the truck to signal Dernier, who quickly slid out to stand beside him.
Dernier tried to duck his face under the bill of his ball cap, but Shultz spotted him immediately. “Who is this?” he demanded.
“Come on, now, Shultz.” Hogan strolled over to join them, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “That’s LeBeau.”
“Jolly jokers,” the sergeant scoffed. “Who is this?”
“We only have one Frenchman,” Hogan insisted. “Aren’t you French, corporal?”
“Oui, colonel,” said Dernier.
“There, see? LeBeau.”
“He is not-” Shultz began, then let out a noise of frustration. “I see nothing, I hear nothing, I know nothing.”
“That’s the ticket, Shultz,” said Hogan, and led the others back to the barracks.
Rogers was waiting for them. “Did you see it?” he demanded. “Did they see you?”
“Yes,” said Dernier. “And… yes.”
“Jacques…”
“It was only Shultz,” said Hogan. “He regularly doesn’t see the things he sees.”
“He won’t report us?” Rogers pressed.
“Nah,” said Carter. “He may not be on our side, but he’s not entirely on the other side, either.”
“Right. Jacques, the machine?”
Dernier paused. “It sure looks in working order to me, Cap. And very much like the serum chamber you described to us.”
“Serum chamber?” repeated Newkirk.
Rogers shook his head. “It’s probably better if you don’t know, corporal. But let’s just say that letting the Nazis - and especially Hydra - keep it is a very bad idea.”
“So, we blow it up,” said Carter.
“Not while it’s still in camp,” Hogan corrected. “The major said he was taking this thing to Berlin. Once the truck leaves Stalag Thirteen, we can arrange for it to have… an accident.”
“But how can we plan on that, colonel?” asked Carter. “Accidents don’t just happen accidentally.”
“Not unless we cause them.”
“Oh,” the sergeant said, then brightened. “Oh! We blow it up.”
“Yes, Carter, we do.”
*
The staff car had barely come to a stop when Major Hochstetter had gotten out and was marching up the steps to the commandant’s office. Hogan slipped in soundlessly behind him.
“Ah, Major Hochstetter,” said Klink. “What a pleasant-”
“What is the meaning of this?” Hochstetter demanded.
Von Abn, helping himself to a glass of Klink’s brandy, did not look over at him. “This is a Hydra matter.”
“The Gestapo has authority in this area,” Hochstetter countered. “We cannot leave the security of Germany to… to mad scientists and their potions.”
“Those ‘potions’ are the future of the Third Reich, Major Hochstetter.”
“Fairy stories,” scoffed Hochstetter. “You Hydra are always coming up with fantastic tales and what do you have to show for it? Nothing. The Gestapo gets results.”
“Oh, that is true,” said Hogan. “The Gestapo has an impressive reputation around here.”
Hochstetter scowled. “What is this man doing here?”
“Defending your honor, apparently,” said Hogan. “Us Allied troops are much more scared of the Gestapo than we are of Hydra.”
Von Abn’s smile was far from friendly. “That is a mistake on your part, colonel.”
Hogan grinned. “How else do we learn, major?”
“Pain is usually an effective teacher,” said Von Abn.
“Oh, you know her, too?” asked Hogan, all innocent surprise.
“Her?” repeated Hochstetter.
“Mrs. Payne,” said Hogan. “She taught third grade at West Side Elementary. I should have known she’d join your side, she always had a mean streak.”
“Hogan…” began Klink, warningly.
“I’m sorry, colonel, that isn’t what I came here to talk to you about.”
Klink sighed. “What do you want, Hogan?”
“Since you’re entertaining guests, Corporal LeBeau was wondering if you would be willing to trade his culinary services for an extra hour of electricity each night for a week.”
“I-” Klink began, but Von Abn interrupted, “Absolutely not.”
“The Frenchman is an excellent cook, major,” said Klink.
Von Abn snorted. “I do not eat food prepared by prisoners,” he sneered.
“Your loss,” said Hochstetter. “He really is a fine cook.”
“Is that a ‘no’, then?” asked Hogan.
“Yes, that’s a ‘no’,” snapped Klink. “Major Von Abn, Major Hochstetter, perhaps I can interest you in-”
“You cannot,” interrupted Von Abn. “Colonel Klink, you will instruct your guards that anyone approaching the Hydra truck is to be shot on sight. Including any Gestapo officers.”
“I… well…” said Klink.
“Bah!” cried Hochstetter, and stormed out of the office.
“Major-” Klink began.
“The rest of my troops will be here tomorrow, Klink,” Von Abn interrupted. “And we will leave for Berlin. If anything happens to my equipment before then, I will hold you personally responsible.”
“Of course, major,” said Klink, miserably.
The Hydra officer turned to leave, stopping to glare at Hogan, who merely smiled and said, “We’re in Barracks Three if you change your mind.”
Von Abn pushed past him and left.
*
“Tomorrow?” said Dugan, accepting a mug of coffee as LeBeau took the non-bugged pot from the stove. “Why not blow it up now?”
“Because we have to make it look like we weren’t involved,” Hogan told him. “We have to keep working here after you fellas ship out.”
“And it’s safer for everyone to have explosions go off outside of camp,” said Carter. Then, he paused. “Well, not everyone. Because we usually blow up supply trucks and staff cars, and there’s usually somebody inside ‘em and that’s not really-”
“We get the idea, Carter,” Hogan interrupted gently.
“Right, colonel.”
“But once Von Abn has taken the truck out of camp,” continued Kinch, “It can blow up all it likes.”
“That sounds like a plan,” agreed Rogers. “How do we-?”
“Shultz is coming!” hissed Newkirk, who had been stationed as lookout.
The two commandos looked wildly toward the trapdoor bunk, where the rest of their unit was still waiting below, but Hogan said, “No time to hide. Blend in!”
When Shultz opened the door a moment later, he found the prisoners in order. Five were sitting at the table playing cards, nine were lying on their bunks, and three were standing around the stove.
Wait…
Shultz stopped, looking around, then counted aloud, “…sixteen, seventeen. Seventeen,” he repeated. “Colonel Hogan…”
“They’re just passing through, Shultz,” Hogan assured him. “They’ll all be gone by roll call.”
“All…” said Shultz, then shook his head. “I see nothing.”
“That’s a good idea,” the colonel agreed. “Then you don’t want to hear about our plan for the Hydra major’s truck?”
“No, no, no, colonel, I am going to-”
Shultz had turned to leave, but his rifle hit the mattress of the nearest bunk, which clanged loudly. He pulled back to blanket for reveal and red-white-and-blue painted shield.
“What is this?” he demanded.
“Oh, that’s a new hubcap for the commandant’s staff car,” said Hogan. “We just painted it, so we put it in the bunk to keep it warm.”
“Colonel Hogan,” said Shultz.
“Would you believe we just found it?”
“Colonel Hogan, that is - that is Captain America’s shield.” Shultz whirled on the men sitting at the table. “And you are Captain America!”
Rogers took a deep breath, clearly calculating his options, but Shultz continued, awed, “Oh, I have seen all of your news reels!”
“You have?” Rogers asked.
“Oh, yes,” said the sergeant. “Of course, they are German news reels, so they all say what a big nasty villain you are, but I don’t believe it. You seem like such a nice fellow.”
Rogers blinked. “Thank you?”
Shultz beamed. “Colonel Hogan, I could be persuaded to keep your visitors to myself if…”
“If?” Hogan repeated.
“If Captain America will sign an autograph for my nephew, Wolfie.”
“Oh!” said Rogers. “Yes, of course, do you have a pen?”
*
The Hydra men arrived during the morning roll call. There were only a dozen of them, but they managed to look as dangerous as a tank division as their open-topped cars pulled into formation around the equipment truck.
Major Hochstetter’s staff car had been right behind them, and when Klink crossed to meet him, Hogan followed.
“Leaving us so soon?” the American colonel asked Von Abn.
The Hydra officer scowled. “Klink, you should teach your prisoners some manners.”
“Would you, colonel?” Hogan asked, false-innocent. “You know how my men look up to you, they’d be grateful for anything you could teach them.”
“What is this man doing here?” Hochstetter demanded.
“I’m just here to see our guest off,” replied Hogan. “It’s only polite.”
Von Abn snorted. “You will not be so humorous, colonel, when Hydra is victorious and your American military is crushed under our heels.”
“I didn’t know octopuses wore shoes.”
The German major scowled, then turned without another word and signaled his men back to their vehicles.
As the Hydra trucks disappeared, Hochstetter said, “That man in infuriating.”
“Now, major,” said Klink, “Hydra is the future of the reich and-” At the other man’s glare, he corrected, “-infuriating, absolutely.”
Just then, a huge explosion rocked the camp.
“That came from the direction the Hydra men went…” said Hochstetter.
“What?” Klink asked. “How…?”
“I heard Major Von Abn say that his equipment could be unstable if handled incorrectly,” said Hogan. “Didn’t you hear that, major?”
Hochstetter nodded slowly. “Ja,” he said. “Ja, that’s exactly what I heard. Hydra incompetence, of course.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” echoed Klink.
*
“The Underground agent will meet you on the other end of the emergency tunnel,” said Hogan. “And take you the rest of the way.”
The men of the Howling Commandos were all dressed as German civilians, waiting at the entrance of the tunnel.
Rogers held out his hand. “Thank you, colonel,” he said. “What you and your men are doing here…”
“Everyone contributes to the war effort in their own way,” said Hogan. “Good luck, captain.”
He clapped LeBeau on the shoulder, signaling he should escort the Commandos out, then turned back to the rest of his men.
“C’mon, all of you, back to work.”
Kinch snorted a laugh. “No rest for the wicked, huh, colonel?”
Hogan offered a smile. “Just another day for the unsung heroes.”
“Maybe someday somebody will make a comic book about us,” suggested Carter. “Or a TV show!”
There was a beat, then everyone laughed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Silly idea.”
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow