Hogan's Heroes: Opportunity Cost (3/4)

[what_we_dream]

Title: Opportunity Cost (3/4)
Series: Hogan's Heroes
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13

Summary: In order to stop a chemical scientist, the Heroes must rescue his daughters from the Gestapo. Things get more complicated when they turn out not to be as seemed.

Carter stared in shock at the two children in the grand bed, two tiny little blondes with sleepy eyes that were quickly widening in fear. The elder couldn’t have been above eight, the younger perhaps four. And both, he recognized, were nearing terrified tears at the sight of the three strange men in their doorway. Beside him, Newkirk and LeBeau appeared to have frozen up completely, staring with near equal shock at the children.

Carter quickly snatched his cap from his head and stepped in, keeping his movements gentle and open and watching with careful eyes as they drew away from him.

“Hello, frauleins. We have come to pick you up; your father sent us to take you to him. He wants to see you very much,” he spoke softly, voice nearly catching in the attempt to keep it quiet and reassuring. He had never spoken calmly in German before, never used it for anything but snarling threats and orders. For pouring out all the anger and frustration he hardly noticed as simple Andrew Carter.

In the bed, the girls huddled together, but their immediate fear faded somewhat. Carter took another step forward, boots soft on the worn rug. They were so young, too young for this life, this war. He couldn’t imagine his own sisters living locked up in the top of a place like this, sisters these girls reminded him of strongly. Sisters he would never let a war endanger.

“The colonel says we can’t see Papa until his work is done,” said the older one, in a tone that suggested the phrase had been memorized from long experience, watching him closely with deep blue eyes.

Carter nodded seriously, honestly. “That’s right. But tonight, your Papa worked very hard and finished it, so he could see you. He wants to take you somewhere nice.”

“Will the colonel be there?” asked the younger, eyes wide. She would, thought Carter, have made a wonderful little china doll, all curls and dimples and innocence.

The question made him tense, but the heavy uniform hid the motion. He answered in an easy, unaffected tone, “No, definitely not. Just you and your Papa, and some new friends.”

“Papa doesn’t like the Gestapo,” burst out the younger one again, glaring at his uniform. Her sister hushed her furiously and pulled her back, shrinking away herself in fear. Carter’s heart twisted; behind him LeBeau made a low sound in his throat.

Trying to ignore the implications of the movement, trying and failing to reassure himself by the lack of apparent bruises on the girls’ faces and arms, he stepped closer again and spoke in a low voice. “Can you keep a secret? It’s a very big secret.” Behind him, Newkirk hissed. He ignored him.

The little girl nodded, childish suspicion written plain across her face. The other watched him with an almost adult caution that twisted his heart further. “I’m not really from the Gestapo. Neither are my friends. I come from America – my name is Andrew. They are from Britain and France. We rescue people and help them go somewhere safe. That’s why we’re here.”

“Carter,” whispered Newkirk, furious. Carter smiled at the girls, glancing at Newkirk out of the corner of his eye.

“D’you want them to come with us, or not?” he asked quietly in English, without turning his face away from the children.

“And if they give us away?” returned Newkirk sharply.

“If we carry them screaming through the halls, they’ll give us away for sure.” He looked back to the children again, eyes soft. “We need to hurry, okay?”

The girls glanced at each other. “You’re really not German?”

“Nope,” said Carter, grinning. LeBeau upstaged him.

“That’s right, mes cheres. I am surprised you couldn’t tell from his accent!” LeBeau’s own accent was appropriately terrible, and the children giggled quietly.

Carter waited for them to finish, still smiling gently. “So shall we go?”

The elder nodded cautiously, head canted to one side as she made up her mind. “Alright.” She nudged her sister out of the bed, the younger girl scampering forward like a young monkey across the floor, earlier suspicion completely replaced by bright inquisitiveness. When she reached Carter she straightened boldly and held out her hand to be shaken. He obliged, bending down to be closer to her height.

“Nice to meet you…?”

“Elise,” said the little girl proudly. “That is my sister, Lucrezia. She looks like mama. I look like Papa,” she confided. Carter smiled, then looked around behind him to where the others were standing.

“Nice to meet you, Elise. There are my friends, Peter, and Louis. They’ll help you get to your Papa.”

The two men smiled, LeBeau widely, Newkirk awkwardly. “We need to hurry,” said Newkirk, glancing at Carter and then the girls, standing in their white linen nightgowns with bare feet half-buried in the carpet. “Do you have shoes and socks?”

Lucrezia was already pulling them out from under the bed; Elise looked around and, spotting her sister, tottered back over to her. Carter straightened and stepped back, standing so he could keep an eye both on the girls and pay attention to his companions.

LeBeau had moved to wait partially in the hallway, keeping a look-out. Newkirk drew Carter back with a quick hand, hissing in his ear as the girls pulled on their socks. “How come you’re so ruddy good with kids?”

“I’ve got two little sisters,” said Carter, watching the children rather than Newkirk. “I was in high school when they were that age; I looked after them a lot.”

Newkirk nodded, apparently reassured, and spoke briskly “Right. Keep them quiet, then. And for God’s sake don’t let them tell anyone we’re not Gestapo.”

“That is well and good,” cut in LeBeau, glancing at them and then back at the hallway. “But how are we to get them out of here? All the exits are guarded, and we can’t fight our way out with the little girls.”

“We can’t fight out way out at all,” said Newkirk. “But maybe… this might work for us, you know.”

“Quoi?”

“It’ll be a lot easier to smuggle out two kids instead of two full-sized birds.” Newkirk glanced speculatively at the two children, the elder helping the younger with her laces. His forehead crinkled, and he looked back sharply to LeBeau. Carter followed his gaze, but couldn’t follow Newkirk’s thoughts. The man sighed, shifting his weight heavily. “I’ve got a plan, but it’s not a good one.”

“Worse than the colonel’s?” asked LeBeau from the doorway.

Newkirk considered. “Probably not,” was his eventual answer.

“Well, we agreed to that, so I don’t see why we won’t agree to this,” said the Frenchman.

“Carter?”

“I don’t have anything better,” said Carter. And then, in German to the girls, “Remember your coats too.”

Lucrezia, just finished with Elise’s shoes, hurried over to a large wardrobe easily twice her sister’s height. From it she pulled a pair of thick wool coats, both dyed bright red. All three men winced, Newkirk muttering something about hunting season. The girls put the coats on, oblivious, and then walked over hand in hand to stand beside Carter. They had put on thick dark stockings as well under shining patent-leather shoes; clearly they had been provided with the best. It was one comfort, at least.

“Alright,” said Newkirk, voice wavering slightly as he tried to keep an optimistic smile on his face. “Let’s go see your Papa.”

---

Carter followed Newkirk and LeBeau with the two girls walking on either side of him, each holding a hand. They were tiny in his, and both warm with the high temperature of children just out of bed. He was careful to warn them not to speak at all, and certainly not to use their names inside the building.

They descended the several flights of stairs into the basement in an awkward bunch. Newkirk went first, scouting ahead with one hand on the wall and his back held unnaturally straight. LeBeau followed, even more reluctant, glancing back frequently. Finally Carter came with the girls; his pace was slowed significantly at first by little Elise who had to take each stair individually, until he simply picked her up and carried her on his shoulders. Lucrezia hurried down the narrow stairs just behind him, hiding behind his coattails.

Carter could feel the anxiety in Newkirk and LeBeau, and himself as well, thrumming like a bow string now that the most difficult part of their mission was fast approaching. It was like a game of chicken; they were coming up quickly on the point of action, and they had no idea if it was going to be successful. And, now with two children’s lives resting on their actions, they couldn’t contemplate failure anymore. There was no chance of simply dropping them and running if things went wrong.

Carter felt the girls shiver when they entered the dungeon, Lucrezia shrinking into the protection of his side while Elise crouched down low against his shoulders, little hands taking a tight hold of his captain’s cap. The smell was worse for the time they had spent out of it; he had already forgotten how terrible it was. Not just the strench, but the horrific implications behind it. All the people they couldn’t save. He jogged through the gloomy corridors past the cells, and forced himself not to look to the side, not to think about it. Not to risk the mission trying to help them. He had never wanted to destroy something so much in his life. Never wished so hard for a single stick of dynamite to throw into the foyer upstairs with those guards standing tall and proud in their black uniforms designed to terrify.

Newkirk led them back to the store room near the cell they had been assigned, pausing only for a few seconds to pick the lock.

Carter stayed out in the hallway with the girls while Newkirk and LeBeau went in, carefully keeping the children far enough down the hall that they couldn’t see into the small room. Couldn’t see what was hanging on the walls.

“There, in the corner. Grab the stretcher, and those blankets.” Newkirk’s voice echoed out, low and hoarse.

LeBeau made a sound of disgust. “They are filthy.”

There was a clink of metal, and then the sound of a pen scribbling. “Get ‘em anyway. They’re our ticket out of ‘ere. Bring the stuff out into the ‘all and put it down.”

They reappeared a moment later, LeBeau carrying a canvas stretcher supported by two wooden poles rolled into a cylinder over one shoulder, and a heap of lumpy woollen blankets under the other arm. He laid the stretcher down on the ground and kicked it open as Newkirk came out and shut the light and the door.

“Good. Now get on it.” Newkirk motioned to the stained canvas. LeBeau muttered something, but lay down as he was told, dropping the blankets beside him. Newkirk nodded and turned to Carter and the girls, eyeing the children apprehensively.

“Alright,” he said, and Carter could see him straining not to clasp his hands in uncertainty at addressing them. “We need to take you out of the building, but the men working here can’t know it. It’s a secret, so we can bring you to your Papa, right?”

The children said nothing, Elise shifting uncertainly on Carter’s shoulders.

“We’ll carry you out with Le – with Louis here. So you need to lie down, and we’ll cover you with blankets. Just like hide and go seek. But you have to be very quiet – silent as little mice.” He paused, then looked pleadingly at Carter.

Carter reached up and lifted Elise down, then knelt down at the foot of the stretcher. “That’s right. You said you don’t like the Gestapo right, Elise?”

The little girl shook her head firmly, blonde curls a bright streak of gold in the gloom.

“So you’ll help us trick them, right? To trick them, you just have to lie on the stretcher, very still and quiet. Don’t move at all, no matter what anyone says or does.”

“So we can go to Papa?” asked the little girl, eyeing LeBeau and the stretcher with childish distrust.

“That’s right,” praised Carter.

“Come on, little frauleins,” said LeBeau, sitting up and smiling. “You can help Uncle Louis trick the Gestapo, right? And then when we get you back to your Papa, I will make you a delicious breakfast – crepes and blueberry sauce. Just lie still as a dummy and we’ll bring you to him, quick as lightning!” He fell back theatrically, legs rising in the air when his back hit the ground. The two girls giggled, and Elise scrambled onto the stretcher beside him. He opened his eyes and helped her lie down beside him, curled in against him. Carter directed Lucrezia to lie along his legs, her head at her sister’s feet and her own feet lying just a few inches past LeBeau’s.

Carter picked up the blankets, shaking them out and ignoring the stains. “Alright, now the blankets. Remember, we’re pretending you’re not there, just Uncle Louis. So don’t move, and don’t speak – not even if you hear shouting. We’ll look after you.”

Elise nodded, eyes closed and face pressed tight against LeBeau’s side; the Frenchman patted her head, expression fierce. Lucrezia watched Carter seriously, but gave a weak smile when he grinned at her. Then he spread the first blanket over them, covering LeBeau from feet to neck.

The effect wasn’t entirely unbelievable, although the guards would remember that LeBeau was much thinner than he appeared now. Newkirk quickly spread another blanket over LeBeau’s chest, bunching it unevenly here and there, and Carter draped another over his legs. LeBeau, eyes open, watched the arrangement sharply.

“Don’t worry Louis, we’ll get you out.” Carter finished and stepped back, straightening his cap.

“It’s not me I’m worried about. You just see the girls get out safely.” He turned to stare at Newkirk, who nodded.

“Leave it to us.” He stepped around and bent to pick up the head of the stretcher, Carter doing the same for the feet. They lifted together, even with the two girls the weight not cumbersome. The wooden poles were smooth in his hands, worn with use. Carter set his face, glanced back to catch Newkirk’s nod, and started down the long corridor.

---

The stairs were managed without too much difficulty, Newkirk lifting high to keep the blankets from shifting and revealing anything. Carter kicked at the door with his toe and felt his expression twisting angrily before the door had even been opened by one of the two guards.

“What were you waiting for,” he snarled, striding out so fast that Newkirk had to jog to keep up. The guards stiffened, glancing down at LeBeau and then back up at him.

“Do you need help, Herr Captain?”

“Not from you fools,” he said, voice harsh, and then to over his shoulder Newkirk, “Keep up!”

“Yes, sir!”

He took up a quick pace, storming down the hallway, turning at the corner. The two guards standing beside Hitler’s picture turned as he came into view around the corner. One glanced at the other, then hurried forward.

“Herr Captain, may I help you?”

“You are all very helpful when I am leaving. Where were you when we arrived? No, never mind,” he snapped as the guard bent to take the stretcher for him. “We managed this far. Or do I seem too weak to you?”

“No, Herr Captain!” the man saluted. Ahead, the corporal appeared hurriedly, looking startled. He too glanced down at the stretcher. Carter remained staring straight ahead, neck so tight it was beginning to ache, and the man quickly raised his eyes again to nervously meet his superior’s.

“I have my information,” said Carter, shortly. “I am borrowing your stretcher.”

“O-of course,” sputtered the man, hurrying forward to open the door for them and saluting enthusiastically as they passed.

Outside, the cold air on his face was like a splash of water after the close heat of the building. The night air smelled almost sweet, someone nearby burning something earthy, probably locally cut wood. After the dungeon’s rank warmth, it felt cleansing. He took in a deep breath, and forced himself not to consider how many others down below the street would never have that luxury again.

The two guards framing the door saluted, and one ran down the steps ahead of them. Carter ignored them majestically, sweeping down the stairs and allowing the man to open the car’s door for him.

And then, without warning, panic pounded suddenly through his veins, icy fingers twisting at his insides so that he had to bite his tongue to keep the sound back. He had no idea how to get LeBeau and the children in the car unseen.

He nodded curtly to the corporal, and hoped the sudden panic didn’t show in his face. He fell automatically into his fallback: furious curtness. “That will be all; we managed this far without your bumbling assistance.”

The man saluted, Carter nodding once dismissively, and turned to march back to his post. Sweating beneath his collar, Carter rested the stretcher’s poles awkwardly on the car’s back seat.

“Girls, come down here,” he whispered, heart thrumming quick as a bird’s. “Follow the stretcher and get into the car; keep very low.”

There was a movement from beneath the blanket, and then part of it detached and began moving towards him. He grabbed it and lifted it to form a visual shield as Lucrezia appeared from under it, gold hair bright in the lamplight, and shuffled into the car. “Sit on the floor,” he whispered, even as Elise wriggled out, red coat flashing bright as new blood as it emerged from under the dark blanket. Carter kept his neck stiff, refusing to allow himself to look at the door where the guards had to be wondering whether they should help after all, whether to come back, what was taking so long.

Elise tumbled down into the car, crawling over to her sister hunched low on the floor behind the driver’s seat. Carter stepped over to LeBeau and, reaching out with stiff arms, picked up the smaller man bodily and carried him into the car. LeBeau was light, but still heavy enough that even after a few seconds Carter’s arms were aching. He put him down hurriedly on the back seat, LeBeau shuffling out of the way of the door while Carter’s body blocked the line of sight.

Behind him he heard footsteps on the flagstones and turned, hand going for his gun as his throat constricted, only to see Newkirk hurrying back to return the stretcher. He slammed the door closed with a shaking arm and straightened, hoping he looked more confident than he felt.

On the top of the stairs, the guards saluted again as Newkirk handed one the stretcher. Carter returned it, feeling sick inside and not knowing whether it was fear or disgust.

---

“What time is it?” was the first thing anyone said, Newkirk starting the engine and putting the car into gear without looking back at the building they had just left. Carter pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch.

“10:35.”

They had only been inside for 45 minutes. It had seemed like hours. It was the fear; it lengthened time while shortening lives.

“We’d better swing around and pick up the doctor, then,” said Newkirk, only a slight trembling giving away the man’s own fading fear as he pulled away from the kerb.

“You hear that, mes cheres? We are going to see your Papa,” said LeBeau from the back seat, sitting up as they left the guards’ sight. Carter turned to see the two girls climb up from the floor, sitting together behind Newkirk.

“Really?” Elise looked up at LeBeau, eyes wide and excited. Her sister said nothing, but turned to watch as well.

“Oui, really. He is waiting for you nearby; we will get him and then you will soon be able to travel to somewhere where you can live safely.”

Carter turned back to watch the road ahead. They were still in the oldest part of the city, and the streets were both narrow and crooked, having been built centuries ago before any concept of wide straight boulevards existed in Germanic city structure. The lamps here were bad as well, hardly one in five lit, and Newkirk was hunched forward over the wheel with his eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to get them quickly away without risking accident.

“The colonel will want to come too,” said the little girl, in a pouting tone. Carter felt his lips twisting, and refrained from looking back.

“Well, that is too bad for him, because he can’t!” proclaimed LeBeau, lightly. “Just you two and your Papa are going. He will stay here alone and complain.”

“He never complains,” said Lucrezia, quietly. Carter did look back then, but she was looking out the window, and said nothing more.

Carter was just turning around again when out of nowhere came the blaring of a horn, shattering the quiet and setting his heart pounding. Beside him Newkirk cursed and the car jerked as he slammed on the breaks and wrenched the wheel to the side. There was a flash of blinding light, and then another dark staff car slid by, moving slow after the near-collision.

Still turning, Carter watched as it pulled by Lucrezia’s window, adrenaline heightening his sight and seeming to slow the cars even further. Watched the child draw back and then duck down in a blur of red and gold. Watched Veheim’s pale face pass by in the other car, turning to stare back at them in shock, the silver insignia on his cap shining coldly in some chance beam of light.

Carter jerked around so fast he felt something in his neck pull.

“Holy – Newkirk, that was Veheim!”

“What?” The car jerked again as the corporal switched from break to gas and they accelerated. He glanced at Carter sharply. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. And he saw us, saw the girls. He turned to stare as we passed.”

Newkirk cursed again, and put his foot to the accelerator genuinely; they shot forwards between the old buildings regardless of possible oncoming traffic and turned a dangerously narrow corner.

In the back seat Elise had picked up on her sister’s fear, even if she had not seen the colonel herself or understood their words, and her exhausted exuberance had turned to fear. Her little face scrunched up, and she began to sob, long and slow. LeBeau was murmuring soft words, but as Carter looked back he saw that the younger girl was turning to her sister for comfort, and her sister was teetering on the edge of tears herself.

Newkirk glanced in the mirror, expression hard. “Carter, radio the colonel. Tell him someone else’ll have to get Kirche; we’re coming back right now. The sooner we get below ground, the better.”

“Right.” The large radio was stored up in front of his feet and he pulled it out now, the heavy weight cold after sitting in the car for so long. He tuned it quickly to their frequency and opened the channel. “Eagle, this is mockingbird. Eagle, this is mockingbird, come in.”

There was a pause, and then a hiss of static as the channel opened from the other side. “Mockingbird, this is Eagle. We read you.” In the current crisis atmosphere of the car, Kinch’s calm voice was incredibly reassuring. Carter took a deep breath and replied as slowly as he could force himself in his nervousness.

“Eagle, we need to return to the nest immediately. Someone else will have to pick up the golden goose. Repeat, send someone else to pick up golden goose.”

A longer pause this time, Carter tensing up again. When the radio crackled again it was the colonel’s voice that answered. “Mockingbird, this is Eagle. Are you in difficulties?”

“Eagle, we were spotted by …” Carter paused, they had no code-word for Veheim.

“Vulture,” suggested Newkirk, without looking.

“By vulture,” he repeated, hoping the Colonel would figure it out. “We need to return to the nest in case of pursuit; we can’t pick up the golden goose.”

Beside him, Newkirk was looking in the mirror every few seconds; behind them LeBeau was sitting with his arm thrown over the seat back, staring out the window even while he murmured meaningless comfort to the girls sitting by his side.

“Roger that, mockingbird,” returned the colonel, and all three of them sighed. “Come back to the nest. I’ll take care of the golden goose. Just make sure you don’t bring vulture back on your tail.”

“Roger,” replied Carter, and killed the radio.

“Thank God for that,” said Newkirk, relaxing slightly. They were leaving the town proper now, getting out into the more open homesteads surrounding the town. Once they got into the woods and out of sight of the roads of Hammelburg, there was no way Veheim would be able to find them. Carter sighed, and LeBeau relaxed enough to swivel around to sit facing forward.

“Don’t worry,” said Carter to the girls. “We’ll take you somewhere safe. Even the colonel won’t be able to find you there.”

Elise didn’t even look up; Lucrezia shook her head, and then ducked down against her sister.

Carter was just going to turn back around when he caught sight of lights flashing in the street behind him. He blinked; probably just the reflection of a street lamp off a window, maybe someone venturing out with a flashing.

A second later it was still there. And then there were two lights; headlights. He turned around, slowly.

“Newkirk, they’re behind us,” he whispered, not wanting to frighten the girls even more. The Brit glanced in the mirror, keeping his spine stiff.

“Damn.”

“How do we get rid of them? We’re already out of the city.” They had left the maze of roads behind them; out here the roads were bumpy but straight, with few crossroads or turnoffs. Few opportunities to lose pursuit.

“I suppose you didn’t pack any dynamite?”

Carter thought back to his previous wish for it, and shook his head. “No. Just the revolver.”

“Two service revolvers won’t do us much good against a car and a guard with an automatic rifle,” hissed LeBeau from the back.

“No kidding,” replied Newkirk, grimly. “We’d need at least a few sticks of – Carter, what time is it?” His voice lashed out suddenly in the middle of the sentence, startling Carter, who fumbled at his sleeve again.

“Uh, 10:45. Why?”

Newkirk glanced at him. Out in the darkness of the countryside, all Carter caught was the movement, quick and desperate. “That bridge the Underground’s blowing up. Isn’t it scheduled for 11?”

“I – yeah, I think so.”

“How far is it?”

Carter, no geographical genius at the best of the times, struggled to visualize the river’s location in relation to theirs.

“About 5 miles,” said LeBeau from the back seat, voice excited. “Mon Dieu, Newkirk, it could work.”

“Only if we get a bigger lead on them than this.” The engine rumbled as Newkirk floored the accelerator. “Carter, do you know where it is?”

“Uh…” Carter swallowed, sweating. A time like this, and had to let them down. He resolved to memorize all the maps in the barracks when they got back. If they got back.

“I know,” spat out LeBeau hurriedly. “Switch with me.”

“Fine. Move over.”

LeBeau edged the girls towards the door, Elise pressed tight against her sister, still crying. Carter scrambled over the divide and into the back, tumbling against the far door when Newkirk sped around a corner. LeBeau pushed his legs out of the way and climbed up into the front.

Lucrezia gave him a look of clear terror, glancing mutely behind them at the headlights. In the front seat, LeBeau was murmuring directions in a low tone.

“I know,” Carter whispered. “But don’t worry; we know how to escape. We’re good at it.”

Boy, were they ever. Two years in a POW camp, and they were best escapers in all of Germany.

“Elise and I tried to escape once; we wanted to see Papa. It was Elise’s birthday.” In her arms, the smaller girl stiffened, and then began sobbing in earnest. “You can’t escape. The colonel doesn’t let anyone escape. You can’t escape.” She shivered, burying her face in her sister’s pale hair. “You can’t escape,” she moaned, rocking the smaller girl.

“That’s not true,” said Carter immediately, without thought. Lucrezia tilted her head to look at him without raising it. “We’ll get away; I promise.” He reached out to pull them closer, waiting to see that they didn’t flinch away before completing the gesture. “Escaping’s what we’re best at. So don’t worry. Don’t even think about him. Just trust me.”

“I want Mama,” sobbed Elise, words muffled against her sister’s coat; Lucrecia hugged her closer, and rested her own head against Carter’s shoulder.

“It’ll be alright,” said Carter, unable to think of anything else, repeating the only words that occurred to him as he watched the two girls. “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright.”

He looked up and caught sight of Newkirk’s eyes in the mirror, watching him intensely. The Brit nodded.

“10:50,” said LeBeau.

The engine roared.