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FanFic
The Richard Dawson Experience
Last UpDated: 04 October 2001.
Site Copyright © 2000-2001. Lisa Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Story Copyright © 2001. Rhonda "StuntChick36" Inc., All Rights Reserved.
SWASTIKAS IN THE WINE
Just when something gets to be a routine, it changes. This was just what happened at Stalag 13 when General Burkhalter made a surprise inspection.
Huddled around the burning barrel outside their barracks, Hogan, Kinchloe, LeBeau and Carter watch as the plump general heads for Klink's office with purpose. As always, they all head inside to Hogan's quarters to listen in on the radio.
"Kinch, set up the coffee pot," orders Hogan.
Kinchloe hooks up the receiver and everyone gathers around to listen.
Inside barracks #4, Freddie is successfully turning Newkirk into the camp's second best gin player.
"Gin," says Freddie with an ear to ear grin.
"What? I just dealt the cards!"
"What can I say? You're a lousy dealer."
"I don't know why I play with you. I really don't."
She gathers up the cards and prepares to shuffle the deck. Newkirk gets up to stretch and walk around. He casually glances out the window and notices Burkhalter's staff car.
"Hey..."
Freddie looks up. "What's wrong?"
"Burkhalter's here."
"What?" Freddie gets up and goes to the window. "Whatdya think he wants?"
"Goering's girdle?"
Freddie laughs a little as she gives him a small shot in the arm. He grabs his coat and says, "I'm gonna find out why he's here."
"Ok, love. Oh, and bring back some eggs and butter while you're out," she says with a smile.
Newkirk leaves the barracks and smiles back to her. He grabs a rake that was leaning up against the side of the barracks and heads for the garden outside Klink's office. He hopes he can hear their conversation from the open window, but the only thing he can make out is that they're speaking in German. It's times like these that he wishes Freddie was with him. He sets the rake down and ventures inside the office.
"Hey, Hilda," he asks politely, "why is General Burkhalter here?"
Hilda smiled at him and says, "I'm not supposed to tell you."
"Aw, come on. We're friends."
Just then, the door to Klink's office opens and Burkhalter and Klink emerge. The rotund general gives Newkirk a smile and motions him into the office.
"Newkirk, I was just thinking about you. Won't you come in?"
The Englishman is a little cautious when it comes to smiling Nazis, but follows Burkhalter and Klink back into the office. Inside, Burkhalter motions for Newkirk to sit down as he begins to pour the prisoner some wine.
"I was just askin' Hilda if you wanted your car washed while you're 'ere."
"Very generous of you," says Burkhalter as he hands a glass to Newkirk. "But that won't be necessary. I'm just here on a... social visit."
This approach by Burkhalter seems foreign to Klink. "But, herr General, you told me that you were-"
"Shut up, Klink." Burkhalter raises his glass, prompting Newkirk to do the same. "To the Fuhrer."
Newkirk tries to bore a hole into Burkhalter's skull with a cold stare. "To the King." Burkhalter looks disgusted at first, but laughs it off.
"Of course." Both drink the wine down. "So, Newkirk. How have you been?"
"Well," he begins, "considering the region of the world I'm in, not too bad."
"You look healthy, strong."
Newkirk is starting to get suspicious of the general's motives. "Me mum fed me well before the war. Just incase I got caught and wasn't fed by the enemy." He lets out a hearty laugh, and Burkhalter giggles along with him.
"I hate to run off like this, but I have important matters in Hammelberg to tend to. It was good to see you again, Newkirk."
"Right, General," says Newkirk, somewhat unsure. Burkhalter grabs his coat and hat as his guards follow him out of the office. Newkirk sets down his glass and leaves.
Outside her barracks, Freddie is waiting patiently for Newkirk to return. She lights a cigarette and watches him pass by Burkhalter's car as Klink speaks to his commanding officer.
"Take this vile, Klink," says Burkhalter as he hands him a tube full of white powder. "Dispense the powder into the drinking supply at once."
"Why, herr general? What is it?"
"It is a drug that our scientists have developed. Designed to turn the enemy against itself. It has never been tested. And the prisoners are the perfect guinea pigs."
Klink is shocked. "You mean, if it's given to the prisoners, they will attack each other?"
"Precisely. And keep your ears alert. They may have information about the sabotage that's centered around this camp." With that, the general drives away, leaving Klink in a state of surprise and horror.
"Did you find out anything?" Freddie asks.
"Not really."
Freddie sniffs, smelling traces of wine. "No wonder. You been drinkin'?"
"Yeah. Burkhalter gave me a glass of wine and wanted to talk to me. A little strange, to say the least."
"What did you talk about?"
"Nothin' spectacular. Just how I was doin' and all that rot. Sounded funny comin' from a kraut." He realizes that he just insulted her. "Sorry."
She gives him a reassuring smile and says, "Since I'm in a POW camp and wearin' a British uniform, I'm a limey."
He smiles, puts his arm around her and walks over to Hogan's barracks.
"I don't get it, Colonel," says Carter. "Why was Burkhalter here today? He doesn't inspect the camp until the last week of the month."
Hogan paces a little. "I don't know. But for whatever reason, it can't be good." Everyone turns to see Freddie and Newkirk enter the hut. Both of them get some coffee and sit at the table with the others.
Newkirk starts, "Did you blokes know that-"
"Yeah, we saw him," says Hogan. "Wish we could have heard him. One of his guards must have been standing in front of the microphone."
"I got inside, sir."
"What?" asks a surprised LeBeau. "How?"
"That's not important," says Hogan, "what did you find out?"
"Not a whole lot. Burkhalter said he was here on a social visit. Their meeting must have just finished by the time I got there." Newkirk rubs his forehead, which gets Freddie's attention.
"You ok, Peter?"
"Yeah. Just gettin' a headache, that's all."
"That's what happens when you drink wine on an empty stomach. Go to my barracks where it's quiet and lie down."
Hogan catches this. "Wine? When did you have wine?" LeBeau immediately suspects trouble.
"Have you been into my wine cellar again?"
"No," defends Freddie. "Burkhalter gave him a glass of wine when he talked to him." She turns her attention back to Newkirk. "Go on. Take a nap, you'll feel better." Newkirk stands up slowly and heads for the door.
Blimey. I feel awful.
Suddenly Newkirk falls to the floor. Everyone gets up and rushes to him.
"Peter, are you alright?" asks Freddie. His eyes are open but glazed over like he's not there. Carter and Kinchloe get him up to his feet. "Take him to my barracks and lay him out. I'll keep an eye on him."
After a while, Freddie returns to her barracks to check on Newkirk. She opens the door quietly and goes inside. She finds him curled up asleep on her bunk, clutching his hat in one hand. Moving carefully across the floor, she covers him with a blanket and brushes some of his brown hair off of his forehead. He stirs just a little bit and opens his eyes.
"Are you feelin' better?"
He rubs his eyes and looks at her for a moment, then he scowls at her. "Whatdya want?"
She's taken back by his sudden snappy behavior. "Hey, take it easy. I was just checkin' on ya."
"Shove off and leave me alone."
"Peter-"
He sits up and says, "I'm warnin' you. Leave me alone." Freddie backs off of him and stands up.
"Alright, alright. You don't gotta get short with me." She walks towards the stove as Newkirk jumps out of bed and approaches her.
"Why do you always gotta be near me? Go hang off someone else for a change." His words are beginning to hurt and confuse her.
"Ok, Peter. Now you're startin' to scare me. What the hell's the matter with you?"
"Nothin's wrong with me," he shouts defiantly, "I'm fine. You've got a problem with gettin' too close."
"Too close? I don't have a clue what you're talkin' about. But I hope to God you're dreamin'."
He grabs her by the collar and yells, "Stay away from me!" She swats his hands away and pushes him back. The only thing she can do now is to exercise authority.
"Watch it, corporal. You don't wanna hit me."
"The hell I don't." He winds up and drives his fist towards her face. She sees this coming and dodges to the side and socks him in the stomach hard, dropping him to one knee. Freddie sees what just happened and can't believe it.
"My God, Peter. Look at what we're doin' to each other." She looks down at him as he looks up at her. Feeling guilty, she bends down to help him, only to be met halfway as he rises quickly. He grabs her by the throat and pushes her into the wall, watching her land on the floor. Leaving no time for her to recover, he pounces on her and hits her repeatedly.
"Peter!" she shouts, "stop it! Knock it off!" She tries to roll him off but can't budge him. Finally she is able to roll onto her side and crawl partially under a bunk. Newkirk grabs her leg and prevents her from going any further.
"Come back here!" he shouts. "I ain't through with you yet!" Freddie kicks her legs violently, trying to get him to let go. He manages to catch both her flailing legs and hold them under his arms. He tugs on her and pulls her out from hiding. She lands hard on her back, stunning her. Again he gets on top of her and quickly starts to slug her again. She moves her forearms up in front of her face to block his shots. As he winds up for another punch, she sticks her arm out, blocks it, and pops him right in the nose. This sends him backwards holding his face. She scrambles to pin him face down on the floor and holds his arms down.
"Oww," he whimpers as he struggles to get up, the blood flowing freely from his nose. He shakes his head and looks around towards Freddie, who by now is laying on her back. "What's the matter? What are you doin'?"
She gets up just enough to turn him over on his back, then sits on him again. "Take a look at my lip and tell me what you think," she says angrily. He stops struggling and slowly calms down. He breaks her grip on one hand and raises it up to touch her face. Anger surges through his face.
"Who hit you?" He licks the blood that's trickling down from his nose. Tears slowly start to fill his eyes as he looks at her cracked lip.
"You did. You slugged me." Freddie slowly loosens her grip on his other hand. "Don't you remember?"
"Fredricha, I hit you once since I've known you. And I'm still not over that." He gently wipes some blood from her lip with his thumb. "What the hell happened?"
She can tell in his voice that he honestly doesn't have any idea what just took place. "I don't know, but I have a pretty good idea. Let me know if any of this sounds familiar. You had a headache and I told you to lie down. You passed out cold in your barracks so I had Carter and Kinch bring you here." She watches as he shakes his head.
"Yeah, I remember that."
"Then I came in here to check on you, and that's when you attacked me. Verbally and physically."
Newkirk sets his head back down on the floor. He closes his eyes and tries to get a hold of the situation. "My God. What have I done? Why did I do this to you?"
"I don't know, Peter. But you scared me." She lets go of his arms completely and crawls off onto the floor next to him. He sits up slowly and wipes the blood from his face.
"But... I don't understand, Freddie. Please believe me. I don't know what happened-"
She puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder and says, "I believe you, Peter. You weren't like that before you passed out, so I know you don't hate me." She takes her finger and wipes a little smear of blood from his face. "I didn't want to strike you, love, but that was the only way I could get you to stop."
He can't understand why she can be so forgiving. In his mind he keeps replaying the moment he proposed to her, wondering how after their rough and rocky start she could have said 'yes'. But that was then and they both agreed to start over. But how many more times will she let him start over? Fear and doubt filled every available vain in his body. He was scared to death that he may lose her forever this time, even though she said she would never leave.
"I had no right to ask you to marry me," he says. "After all I've done to you. You should have killed me."
"And be a widow before we're hitched? No thanks." She puts an arm around him and pulls him into her and holds him. "And I'm not marrying you out of guilt. I'm going to marry you because I love you."
He closes his eyes as she cradles him. Feeling her arms around him brings both comfort and heartache. "How can you love me? You've seen my worst probably more than my best."
"Peter," she says as she pulls a handkerchief from her pocket and cleans some of the blood from his nose. "Your worst is a part of you. And I'm crazy about every part of you. You've seen me at my worst, and we're both gonna see it in each other again. You know why? Because that's what married people do." She squeezes him a little tighter. "That's what they mean by 'for better or for worse.' No matter what, Peter, I'm always going to love you. If you're wrong, if you're right. If you're weak, if you're strong. If you're happy, or if you're sad. Love doesn't quit when you're havin' a bad day."
Her words stir him. A single tear escapes his eye and rolls down his cheek. She watches it roll down to his chin as she wipes it with her finger. "Oh, Peter," she says softly. "You've got such a big, giving heart. Bigger than anyone I've ever known. And inside a big heart lies forgiveness." She whispers as she continues, "You have forgiven me, love. Now forgive yourself."
He lies quiet, trying hard not to cross over into sadness from self-hatred. "Not in mine," he whispers. "I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you. You deserve much better than a magician. A magician who can make love disappear."
"Peter, stop saying that. You're talkin' nonsense. Look at me." He turns his head to face hers. Her fingers play with his curly brownish-red sideburns, tiptoeing over and running around the outside of his ear.
"There is no one in this world better for me than you. Do you think you're the only one who feels unsure of that? Many times I've looked at myself and said, 'I don't know what he sees in me. He could do a lot better. I'm nothin' but a merchant's daughter who took one on the chin for her adopted homeland. What could I give him?' But then I say, 'Of all the women in the world he could have picked to spend the rest of his life with, he picked me. He found something in me that he loves and I thank God every day for bringin' us together.' And, liebchen, love is the only thing that matters."
They sit in quiet for a few moments until Newkirk breaks it, his voice a little shaky. "Freddie, I couldn't ask you to forgive me-"
She looks him dead in the eye. "Peter, I already have. Because I love you that much."
Tears fill his gray eyes again and spill over onto his sweet face as his head hangs in deep sorrow. He tries hard to hold them back but it's impossible. She holds his face to her chest and rests her cheek on his forehead as he cries softly. His hands grip her jacket tightly, as if he's going to fall away. "Love is so much stronger than hate, Peter," she says, her own emotions catching up to her. "Believe me." Freddie coddles him until he gets a hold of himself.
He sniffs his tears back, wipes his eyes then tries to laugh. "Why do you have to be right all the time?"
She squeezes him and says, "I'm not right all the time. It's just that in this case I know what I'm talkin' about." Then she puts on a goofy grin and says, "And, because I'm adorable."
"No, you're not," he says as he holds her hands, "you're beautiful." She clutches him and rocks him like a baby. "You're God's most beautiful creation."
She herself is almost overwhelmed with emotion. "Peter, I love you."
His voice cracks with emotion again. "I love you, too, Freddie." She lowers her face down to kiss his lips, then kisses the remaining tears from his face. Though they are salty, they taste sweet, having fallen from the eyes of the man who loves her. As they sit in peaceful silence, Freddie offers her idea about what happened to Newkirk.
"You know what I think? I think Burkhalter slipped a Mickey into your drink."
Newkirk looks at her. "Yeah. I think you're right. He must have." He holds her hands tightly against his chest, lacing their fingers together. "Ruddy bastards. Makin' me hit you. Well, they're gonna get theirs!" He tries to get up, but Freddie holds him down.
"Easy, Teddy Rose'velt," she says as she holds him tightly. "Don't go chargin' up San Juan Hill just yet."
"Come on, Fredri-"
"Peter." That's all she has to say to close the matter. "If you go stormin' into Klink's office, he'll have you shot!"
"With what? A pea-shooter? Schultz doesn't carry bullets in his gun."
"Stop it. Calm down." Freddie strokes his soft hair and kisses the top of his head. "My God, you're easily upset, aren't you?"
"Only when someone... hurts my family. And I take tremendous exception to the fact that they made me hurt you!"
Her voice softens as she says, "Hey, love. I know you didn't mean to do it." His body is still rigid with anger. "Try and get your mind off of it. Let it go. Forget it."
"I can't. And I won't."
"Yes you can. Think of something pleasant. Like... like a sunrise. Or how majestic the London skyline looks on a clear, sunny day." Newkirk's body relaxes as she kisses his ear and nuzzles him. "Or our children takin' a walk in the park with their father." He moans with happiness at the thought of children, the children they will have together. "They'll get what's comin' to 'em," she assures him. "Don't worry." She leans back against the bunk post, still holding him close.
"Can we... stay here and think about... our kids?" he asks hopefully. Softly she kisses his forehead.
"Yeah," she coos.
But their happy world is destroyed when Schultz walks in. "Everybody outside for-" He looks down at the pair on the floor and smiles. "Oh, excuse me."
"Whatdya want, Schultz?" asks an agitated Newkirk.
"Kommandant Klink wants all the prisoners outside for... ex-er-cises."
"Ok, Cuddles. Tell him we're comin'," says Freddie. He smiles and blushes a little as he turns to leave. Newkirk is a tad surprised.
"Cuddles? You call that bundle of quiverin' blubber 'Cuddles?'"
"Yeah, so?"
"Shouldn't you call me that? I mean, after all, I'm gonna be your husband."
She smiles at him and says, "I can't call you Cuddles."
"Why not??"
She holds him a little tighter and says, "Because you're my Snugglebug." Then she plants a kiss on his mouth.
He smiles wide. "Oh. Well... I wouldn't want you to stop callin' me that."
"See?" she says. "Don't cry before you're hurt. Come on, we better get outside."
Newkirk refuses to move and lets his body turn to dead weight. "No, I wanna stay right here with you."
"Come on. Up ya jump." She leans forward and they both stand up together. He's a bit wobbly from the drug, so she puts an arm around his waist to steady him.
Outside, the POW's are standing in formation and awaiting Klink's instructions. Freddie and Newkirk make their way into line next to Hogan.
Hogan looks at their faces stained with blood. "Did you two get into it again?"
"No, sir," begins Freddie, "Newkirk was-"
"Achtung!!" yells Schultz.
Klink stands ready to address the prisoners. "As your caring kommandant, I want you all to be in fine physical health."
Newkirk whispers in Freddie's ear, "Who is he kiddin'?" Klink continues with his speech.
"That is why I want all of you to jog around the parameter of the camp one time!"
Schultz protests. "Herr kommandant, shouldn't you make them jog more than once?"
Klink doesn't like Schultz questioning his authority. "Shut up, you dummkopf. You'll be jogging it with them."
Immediately, the jolly sergeant recants his question. "Once around is plen-ty, herr kommandant."
Carter steps up behind Freddie. He can see that she is holding Newkirk up. "Is he alright?"
"No, Andrew. Burkhalter poisoned him."
"He what?"
"He poisoned him. I don't think he'll be able to run without help. Can you help me hold him up?" Carter doesn't hesitate to get under Newkirk's arm to support him. As Schultz counts out the march, everyone starts running. Carter and Freddie try to lift Newkirk up just slightly so they can carry him.
As everyone rounds the first turn, Freddie notices some of the guards setting up large drinking barrels. She's got to tell Hogan.
"Sir, we mustn't drink that water."
"Why not?"
"I have an idea it's been laced."
"Laced? With what?" Hogan slows up and jogs next to Freddie. "Is that what's wrong with Newkirk?"
"Yes sir. The drink that Burkhalter gave him had something in it. When I checked on him, he attacked me. That's why we're both roughed up."
"My God," says Hogan. "I'll try to think of something before we stop. Thanks for the warning."
As the prisoners make the final turn around the grounds, the guards line them up in front of the water barrels. Just as the first man is handed a tin cup, Hogan protests.
"Wait a minute, kommandant. I'm the senior officer, I should go first."
"What's he talking about?" asks Kinchloe.
"The water's poisoned," whispers Carter. LeBeau can't believe his ears.
"Poisoned?"
Hogan steps forward and goes to the barrel. He pretends to trip and knocks one barrel into the other, spilling the tainted water all over the ground. The men complain.
"Sorry, fellas," apologizes Hogan. "Guess I lost my balance."
Back inside their barracks, Hogan, his men and Freddie try to piece together everything that's happened. Newkirk's resting comfortably in his own bunk as the others sit at the table.
"This doesn't make any sense, Colonel," says Kinchloe. "Why would Burkhalter intentionally poison a prisoner? And why Newkirk?"
"I think," suggests Freddie, "that Peter just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. All he did was go over to Klink's office and see if he could hear anything."
"It's a logical assumption," says Hogan, "but it still doesn't explain why he was drugged and why he reacted the way he did to you. I think something much bigger is happening behind all of this."
"Whatdya think, Colonel?" asks Carter.
Hogan paces a little, then turns to everyone and says, "I want to know who crossed the line. I want names, ranks and their heads if necessary." He stops in front of Freddie. "That's why I'm asking 'The Shadow' to help me."
Freddie smirks as she slowly rises to her feet. She drops her London accent and slips into her more comfortable German-flavored English. "At your service, Herr Hogan. What would you like me to find out?"
"I want you to investigate General Burkhalter. Find out how he got a hold of this drug and who authorized its distribution. I got a feeling the Nazis are trying to fight us with chemical warfare and I don't like that. I have an idea Major Hochstetter is involved somehow, too, so watch yourself."
"Yes sir. I will leave no stone unturned."
Hogan pours himself a cup of coffee. "I'm not going to let the man responsible for this walk free. He tried to take out one of my men, and I won't stand for it."
"When I find him, Colonel," says Freddie, "I will punish him. Severely." As she and Hogan head for the tunnel, she stops by Newkirk's bunk. She stands on the bottom bunk and kisses his forehead gently and whispers, "I'm going to get the man who did this. Even if it takes me all the way to Hitler's private bunker. Someone's going to pay dearly for hurting you." On her way down, she says to Carter, "Keep him safe until I return."
Later than night, 'The Shadow' escapes from Stalag 13 and heads into town. She will make contact with an agent who will take her to Gestapo headquarters. Freddie will start her tracking assignment from here, hopefully picking up some substantial leads and other miscellaneous information.
Back in barracks #2, Newkirk rolls over and opens one eye to see who's making all the noise.
"Hey," he says, "can't you blokes keep quiet? I'm not feelin' well, you know."
"Sorry," says Carter. "but Louis just won the hand again."
Newkirk throws his blanket off and carefully climbs down from his bunk.
"Where are you going?" asks LeBeau.
"Over to Freddie's barracks. At least she'll let me sleep."
"Newkirk, wait-" warns Carter. But it's too late; he's already out the door.
Newkirk opens the door to Freddie's hut and goes inside. "Love, I'm gonna lie down on your rack. The guys are makin' too much noise in our hut." As he lays down on her bunk, he notices that it's more quiet than normal. "Freddie?"
He gets up and goes to the officer's room door, knocking on it and opening it. "Freddie?" Empty.
Hogan comes into the bunkhouse. "She's not here."
Newkirk turns towards him. "Where is she, sir?"
"On assignment."
"Assignment? What assignment?"
Hogan draws in a deep breath and says, "It's top secret."
Newkirk is very nervous. "Well, you didn't send her alone, right? I mean, you sent someone with her. You can at least tell me that."
Hogan paces a little. "You know that 'The Shadow' works alone."
The Englishman's eyes open wider. "Sweet Jesus. What's she-"
"I sent her out to hunt down the person or persons who tried to knock off one of my men."
"I gotta find her," says Newkirk as he heads for the door. "I don't want her to go alone." Hogan grabs his arm and stops him.
"You can't, she left while you were asleep. She could be on her way to Berlin by now. I don't know where she is."
"When I was asleep?" The handsome Brit leans up against a rack and looks at his feet. "How long will she be gone, Colonel?"
"I don't know. It depends on what she finds out. Maybe tonight, maybe next week. You can help by not blowing her cover and letting every kraut this side of the English Channel know she's gone. Got it?"
"Right, sir." Newkirk slowly walks over to Freddie's bunk again and sits down. "I hate it when she goes alone." He sighs and says, "I just hope she's careful."
Gestapo headquarters is buzzing with activity since 'The Shadow' arrived. Freddie moves freely within the confines of the building due to her status as Himmler's eyes and ears.
Her first order of business is to find Hochstetter and question him. As the sector's security chief, he may be able to shed some light on her 'case.' She asks a young private in the SS to show her to his office at once.
"What a pleasure to see you again, fraulein," warms Hochstetter as they exchange salutes. "Won't you sit down?"
"Thank you, Major." This is the toughest part of her job as an double agent. She fights the intense urge to pound the hell out of any Gestapo officer she sees constantly. "I am here on official business, herr Major. My orders were given to me by Reichsfuhrer Himmler personally."
"Of course, Captain." Hochstetter returns to his desk to hold conference with Freddie. "I am completely at your disposal."
"Good. As you know, we have many of our own agents placed in various parts of the Fatherland. Herr Himmler wants to keep tabs on his own men... very close tabs. I was sent here because some of our agents in your area have reported to us in Berlin that certain unauthorized methods of war are being practiced on prisoners in Luftstalags 13, 16, and 19. Would you care to explain this?"
Hochstetter is unaware of any such activities. "Unauthorized, Captain? Can you be more specific?"
"We were given information that a certain drug was being administered to the prisoners in these three camps. Berlin has no record of this drug, its manufacturer, or who authorized its distribution. We do not want any complaints from the Red Cross or the prison camp commission."
"I understand. Not to pry, but what have your agents said this drug does?"
"All we know is that it has what you might call an 'ill-effect' on the prison population."
Hochstetter scoffs, "They are just prisoners, Captain. What difference would it make-"
Freddie lets her voice get a little louder. "I'll tell you, herr Major. If these prisoners were to die off in large numbers, that would make you look bad to the prison commission, correct? Then it would be safe to assume that you would be out of a job as a security advisor, thus making you available for a combat position on the Eastern Front!"
The little man looks shaken as if these words are coming from Himmler himself.
Her voice gets louder as she stops in front of him. "I want to know who authorized this practice... now!"
"You bastards tried to kill the man I love. Someone is going to die!"
"At once, Captain." Hochstetter picks up his phone and speaks with the operator. "Get me General Burkhalter. Tell him to meet me at Gestapo Headquarters immediately." He looks back at 'The Shadow.' "There must be an explanation for this."
She leans on his desk and gets in his face, her anger over what happened to Newkirk boiling over. "Let's hope there is, Major. I'd really hate to see you go to Russia, especially this time of year."
Newkirk wanders around Freddie's bunkhouse, trying to occupy himself until she comes back. Without realizing it, he's smoked a little more than half a pack of cigarettes. More than three hours have passed without a single word from Freddie.
"Come on, love," says Newkirk, out loud and to no one. "Hurry back."
Carter and LeBeau come over to keep Newkirk company. "Nothing yet," says Carter. "Kinch is still sitting by the radio."
"Don't worry," comforts LeBeau. "She's a smart girl. Everything'll be fine."
"Not until I see her standin' right in front o'me." Newkirk lays back down on her bunk and covers his face with his hat.
"How are you feeling?" asks LeBeau.
"Still woozey. Like I drank a whole case of champagne."
"Look on the bright side. At least you're not puking your guts out," adds Carter. LeBeau and Newkirk look at him with serious faces.
"Isn't there something you could be blowin' up, Andrew?" asks Newkirk.
Burkhalter, Hochstetter, and Freddie are meeting in the conference room at Gestapo headquarters.
"General," begins Hochstetter, "the Captain has informed me of some experimental testing going on at three specific stalags in our area. Do you know anything about this?"
"I was informed," says Burkhalter, "that these camps have the highest healthy prisoner populations and they would be excellent for a medical experiment."
Now we're getting somewhere. "What kind of experiment, herr General?" asks Freddie.
"A new drug was developed by our scientists in Vichy that could eliminate the problem of overcrowded prison camps.
"Go on."
"It is colorless, odorless and tasteless. Easily distributed to the prisoners by dispensing the drug into their water supply.
"What exactly is the drug designed to do, General?" asks Hochstetter.
Burkhalter bluntly gives his answer. "It is designed to make the prisoners eliminate themselves."
Bingo. Paydirt. "So what you are saying, herr General, is that the prisoners kill themselves off, thus making more room in the prison."
"Yes."
Freddie is still pressing for more information. "Who authorized the research and development of this drug, General?"
"Lieutenant Rolf Kesselberg."
"And did he authorize the testing of this drug?"
"I believe so. Said the order came down from the Fuhrer himself. Why?"
Freddie has culled all the information she needs. She stands and says, "That was a lie, herr General. If Himmler doesn't know about it, than it never happened. He never notified the Gestapo of his progress, and you know what happens to people who don't inform the Reichsfuhrer. Thank you both for your cooperation. I will mention you both favorably in my report. Heil Hitler."
In the tunnel, Kinchloe is still waiting for any word from Freddie or her contact in town. By now, Hogan and the others are all waiting there, too.
Footsteps. And they're running. They all turn towards the emergency tunnel and wait to see who it is.
"Freddie?" asks LeBeau.
"Yeah, it's me," she says as she unties her hood. "And you won't believe what I found out."
"Let's hear it," says Hogan. "Kinch, take a letter."
"The drug was developed by a Lieutenant Rolf Kesselberg in Vichy. Sorry, Louis."
LeBeau frowns and spits on the floor.
"It's main function was to take care of the overpopulation problem in camps by turning the prisoners against one another and let them kill each other off."
"That's low!" shouts Carter.
"Maybe, but it worked. That explains why Peter went crackers and opened my lip. Burkhalter was curious and wanted to try the drug out for himself."
"And Newkirk just happened to be around, so he was the unsuspecting lab rat."
"Mon Dieu," says an astonished LeBeau.
"Kinch," instructs Hogan, "get that off to London right away. Have them take care of that Kesselberg character for us and have them notify us when the job's done."
"Right, Colonel."
Hogan stretches out a hand to Freddie and says, "Great job, sergeant. I'll see that you get a promotion."
"Yes sir," she answers with a smile. Freddie walks around the corner to change out of her Gestapo uniform when LeBeau stops her.
"Newkirk is sleeping in your hut. He was really nervous when he found you were gone. You should go to him."
She kisses him on the cheek. "He needn't be nervous anymore. Merci, Louis." She heads off for her barracks.
Once she has reached the ladder, she climbs up and carefully moves the stove away from the entrance. The bunkroom is dark except for the roaming searchlights from the guard towers. She pushes the stove back over the hole hastily before she checks on Newkirk, who has fallen back to sleep while waiting for her to return. Freddie rushes over to the bed and sits by his side.
"Peter, wake up, darling."
He slowly opens his eyes as her fingers stroke his face and brush some of his hair from his forehead. As his green eyes focus on her, he takes her hand in his. "Freddie?"
She loosens her tie and smiles. "Yes, love. It's me." He sits up and takes her into his arms, hugging her tightly and kissing her face.
"Oh, Freddie. I worried about you so much. The colonel told me you went on assignment alone. Are you alright?"
"Yes. I'm all together in one piece." She runs her hand through his hair. "Oh, love, the man who started all this trouble won't harm anyone anymore. We just sent word to London and they'll take care of him."
He caresses her face, letting his hand run over her cheek and down to her neck. "This is one of those times, darlin', that I don't know if I should love you or fear you."
She finds this a little upsetting. "Do I frighten you, Peter?"
"Well, sometimes. I mean, you are so gentle and kind. But you can turn in the blink of an eye. Anyone who can do that should be feared."
Freddie again touches Newkirk's face, running her thumb over his tender lips. "Peter, I'd never turn on you. You don't need to fear me. That's what the krauts are supposed to do."
He laughs, then puts on a silly, pitiful face and says, "You know, you left without even sayin' goodbye."
"I said goodbye to you, but you were snorin'."
"Oh."
She leans closer to him and runs her hand up his chest and around his neck. "But, if you want, I'll say hello to you."
He smirks. "Sure." They shrink the space between their mouths and kiss softly, letting the passion build slowly. As she backs away from him, he says, "I hate it when you go alone, Freddie."
"I know you do, darlin'. But you have to admit, the best thing about me going alone is getting to make up for lost time with you."
Newkirk smiles. "Yeah."
The following morning, as the POW's disperse from roll call and go on about their business, Freddie goes over to Newkirk and puts her arms around his waist.
"How do you feel this mornin'?" she asks.
"A little better," he says as he turns to face her. "Still weak, but I'll be alright."
"Better take it easy for a while. Never know what kind of side effects it could have."
"Yeah." Both of them start to walk back to the barracks when he stops suddenly and holds his forehead. "Oh... ooohh..."
"What's wrong? What is it?"
"I feel strange..."
"How strange?"
"Like... like I... like I wanna take you to the barracks and spend the whole day neckin'." He starts to laugh. "This might be a wonderful drug after all!"
"Peter, is there a time that you don't think about neckin'?"
"Sure."
"When?"
"When we're neckin' Why think about it when we're doin' it?" Both of them laugh.
"So," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "My bunk or yours?"
Newkirk smiles and puts his hands on her hips. "Yours. More privacy. You know, incase we want to... dispense with a few articles of clothing." He places a kiss on her lips.
"Good thinkin'. I find that very relaxing."
The two of them start to wander back towards barracks #4.