Fools Rush In
Syl Francis

Papa Bear Awards 20032003 Papa Bear Awards - Second Place
Best Songfic/Poerty

Papa Bear Awards 20032003 Papa Bear Awards - Nominated
Best Portrayal of a Canon Character - Tiger

Summary: Hogan clashes with a beautiful and courageous French operative codenamed Tiger--of course, the sparks fly!

Acknowledgement: Song "Fools Rush In" by J. Mercer and R. Bloom. And as always, a special thanks to Zoey Tranor--beta-reader extraordinaire! Any mistakes left behind are solely my responsibility.

Author's Note: I got the idea for this story while beta'ing a story for Zoey, and she kindly gave me the go-ahead to publish mine, so additional thanks to her. Finally, this is little more than a WAFFy story, so be forewarned!

Disclaimer: Hogan's Heroes is owned by Paramount, Viacom and others; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright. Feedback is welcome!

Copyright May 2002


Friday 19 FEB 1943/2230hrs local

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread
And so I come to you, my love, my heart above my head...


She stumbled as she ran, her toe catching on an exposed root in the heavy underbrush. Somehow she maintained her footing despite the uneven ground. As she ran low branches smacked against her exposed skin unmercifully--stinging, scratching--slowing her progress.

She had been on the run for almost two kilometers, ever since the last sharp curve on the Hammelburg Road. In the split second between the staff car's headlights illuminating the steep drop into the black night, and the driver clumsily negotiating the sharp turn, she reached her decision.

She jumped. And caught them by surprise.

One second she was sitting quietly next to the hated Gestapo officer, for all appearances meek and frightened. The next, she kicked out viciously, striking a solid blow to the temple. Without hesitation, she opened the rear passenger door and leaped into the night.

Her momentum carried her down the sheer sides of the ravine that bordered the lonely stretch of road. She rolled several times, the jagged rocks and thick brambles that lined the slope digging painfully into her as she fell headlong. Within seconds, she slammed against a large tree trunk and abruptly ended her out-of-control descent. Her breath knocked out momentarily, she lay dazed on the hard-packed, snow-covered ground.

Almost immediately, the squeal of brakes and rubber tires roared overhead, accompanied by the loud voices of men raised in anger. Or rather, the loud voice of one man in particular, the hated Gestapo officer who had captured her in the first place, the man whom she had just kicked squarely on the side of the head--Col. Feldcamp!

And now here she was, running for her life, while behind her the relentless sounds of pursuit followed--that of angry shouts and the occasional deadly staccato of automatic weapons as the woods were sprayed by gunfire.

And all the while, Feldcamp's high-pitched, enraged voice broke the stillness of the woods.


Friday 19 FEB 1943/2310hrs local

Though I see the danger there
If there's a chance for me then I don't care...


As he ran through the familiar woods, he heard gunfire and angry shouts ahead of him. Obviously something had gone wrong--again. When Tiger had been late for their rendezvous, he had immediately retraced her route and found the Gasthaus where she spent the previous night surrounded by Gestapo. He did not need to be a brilliant intelligence operative to figure out that the police dragnet was for her.

And Col. Robert E. Hogan was both brilliant and an intelligence operative--although if anyone ever called him that he would have given them a few choice words, since he felt like neither. He was a pilot at heart and missed being up in the clouds. The war seemed so much simpler from up there. I should've escaped when I had the chance!

His thoughts returned to the problem at hand. I should've known that something would go wrong. This was Tiger, after all. He had had a bad feeling about this meeting from the start and almost sent her a message to cancel, but in the end his heart won out.

He had wanted to see her again. And now?

He remembered waiting in an alley across from the Gasthaus, helpless to do anything about the Gestapo outside, furious with himself for letting his emotions overrule his better sense. There was nothing he could then, except watch as she was dragged out of the building and forced into the backseat of a staff car.

As he was about to turn away, movement at the Gasthaus' front portico caught his eye--SS-Standartenfuhrer Feldcamp! Might've known ol' Smiley would be in the thick of things! But how had he known about Tiger?

The next second, the proprietor of the Gasthaus, a member of the local Underground--Gunter Bormann--emerged and shook hands with the hated SS colonel. Hogan studied Bormann carefully, noting the triumphant grin and arrogant carriage, quite different from the mousy milquetoast Tiger had described. Hogan shook his head in self-disgust. Bormann must have been a double agent working for the Gestapo all along. And I let her walk right into your parlor. Okay...I'll take care of you soon enough.  

Concerned about the turn of events, Hogan had sped out of the tiny hamlet, flooring the accelerator. He intended to set up an ambush near Stalag 13, his base of operations, in order to whisk Tiger to safety. He also had to report Bormann's treachery to the local Underground. Who knew how many others he had already betrayed to the Gestapo?

Of course, things did not go exactly as planned.

So what else is new? He scowled in frustration. The next instant, his expression changed to a rueful smile of admiration. Guess we don't call her Tiger for nuthin'.

He recalled their first solo mission together less than a month ago, the rescue of a French physicist from German hands--Dr. Jean Baptiste. Because the operation was located in his territory, Hogan had technically been in command; however, because the rescue involved a French national, Tiger--a respected leader in the French Underground--had insisted on taking charge.

They had only worked together once before that, when Hogan and his men had pulled the highly improbable stunt of smuggling a German Tiger tank into Stalag 13 in order to draft a set of blueprints of the weapon. Tiger had been tasked with sneaking the plans out of camp and into Allied hands. Their meeting had been too brief to really get to know each other, so Hogan was pleased when Tiger was assigned to assist him with the rescue of Baptiste.

Unfortunately, the mission had not gone as smoothly as Hogan had hoped.

The memory of how their personalities had clashed almost immediately was still vivid in his mind. Too much alike, he admitted ruefully. Like mixing TNT and nitro. Neither of them had been willing to compromise or give into the other. The resulting explosion had been as spectacular as it had been heated.

Maybe I should say 'torrid,' he added, recalling their first kiss. He still did not know how or why they ended up in each other's arms. One minute they were arguing, each accusing the other of being uncooperative, pompous, egomaniacal--the next they were locked in a desperate, passionate embrace. Somehow, they were able to control themselves long enough to accomplish their mission.

But afterwards...

Unbidden, Hogan recalled the sensation of her warmth against him as he held her close. For that one long afternoon, he had forgotten all else, even tomorrow. Angrily, he shook his head. Can it, Colonel! You've got work to do! As leader of the local Underground network, his first duty was to get Tiger out of the Gestapo's hands. She knew too much of the local operation, as well as, the inner workings of several other underground cells.

It would be close, he knew. Hogan would have to force the lead vehicle off the road--A few well-placed bullets to the front tires should take care of that! Tiger was being held prisoner in the second car--which meant that he would have to act quickly. Once the first vehicle went out of control, he would then have to do the same thing to the second--hopefully, without injuring Tiger. Then, he would have to contend with the trail vehicle.

A couple of grenades lobbed in its direction should take care of it. Piece o' cake! He grimaced. Right...!

Naturally, Tiger had her own ideas about how to throw a monkey wrench into whatever Feldcamp had in store for her. Regrettably, by jumping from the car, she had also thwarted Hogan's planned ambush. He waited as they came around the familiar curve--'Dead Man's Curve' his men called it, because they'd succeeded in sending so many of the enemy to their maker at that particular spot--when the rear door had suddenly been flung open.

Hogan's initial shock and concern for Tiger's welfare quickly gave way to frustration, and now as he ran through the woods he wanted to give her a good shake. I oughtta let 'em capture her! he fumed, irate that she had gone her own way again. Maybe they'd be able to torture some sense into her! Of all the idiotic, mule-headed--! Suddenly, he heard someone running recklessly through the underbrush in his direction. Diving behind a wild thicket, he waited tensely, trying to ignore the sharp barbs that were even now digging painfully into him.

The next instant, a dark shadow crashed through a stand of new growth that was nearest him. Quick as lightning, he tackled the shadow to the ground. Unexpectedly, the small figure kicked out, catching him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"~Oof!~" he grunted. Recovering quickly, he fell on top of his opponent, and they struggled in silence for a few moments. He received an elbow to the temple and just managed to avoid having an eye gouged out. Finally, he succeeded in subduing his fiery opponent and clamped a strong hand across her mouth, while twisting her arm behind her back.

"Now, now, that any way to greet an old friend?" he asked in short, low gasps. He felt her body suddenly stiffen and then relax in recognition. The next instant, she was in his arms, eagerly returning his hungry kiss.

"Mon Colonel..." she whispered, her breath hot against his face. "I did not think that--"

At her words, he abruptly pushed her away, holding her at arms length. "You're right--! You didn't think! What's the idea of such a harebrained stunt? Are you crazy? Jumping from a moving car!?"

"And what did you expect me to do?" she retorted, immediately indignant. "Sit back and wait to be rescued like some poor, defenseless damsel in distress--?"

"Now that would've been a nice a change! Waiting for backup! Gee, what a concept!" he complained. "You'd think that after you almost botched the last mission you'd learn to follow procedure--?"

"I did not botch--!"

"You almost got yourself and Baptiste caught--!"

"That was not my fault! If that idiot had followed my instructions exactly as I gave them, the Gestapo would never have even suspected--!"

"No--! If you had followed my instructions, the Gestapo would never--!"

The sound of heavy boots tramping through the woods stopped him from saying anything further. He held up his hand in a 'hushing' motion. The Gestapo patrol was getting close. Glaring at her, he indicated she should follow him.

"We'll talk about this later. Let's go!"

Her eyes burning with fury, Tiger nodded curtly. He gave her a hand up, and they ran through the now-familiar woods. In the clear, moonlit night, Hogan easily found the blazed trail that he and his men had set up months ago. Tiger's hand firmly clasped in his, he led her confidently through the thick forest. As they ran, the sounds of pursuit faded behind them. Soon, all they could make out were the occasional machinegun bursts in the night.


Saturday 20 FEB 1943/0015hrs local

Fools rush in where wise men never go...


After a few close calls, Hogan led her to the concealed tunnel entrance. As he opened the camouflaged tree stump, Tiger gasped in surprise. This was something new, she realized. On her first visit to Stalag 13, she had been smuggled into the compound inside the local veterinarian's van. Once in the camp, a fellow Frenchman, Cpl. LeBeau escorted her to Hogan's underground base of operations through a secret tunnel entrance located inside the dog kennel.

During last month's mission with Hogan, she had not had reason to again visit his base. During the rescue operation, they had been so busy and under so much constant danger that there had been no time, nor need to come here.

Then when they had finally gotten well rid of that idiot, Baptiste (as she still thought of him), Tiger had had no interest in being anywhere other than the safe house where they had stowed Baptiste the last day of their mission--in Hogan's arms. The memory of that one stolen afternoon together before they returned to their respective duties was permanently seared in her mind.

Therefore, this was the first time she had laid eyes on the new entrance. "Remarkable, mon Colonel!" Her voice was tinged with awe. Hogan flashed her a wink and hurriedly waved her inside.

"We expanded," he said facetiously, climbing in after her. As soon as he joined her in the tunnel, he led her at a quick pace towards the radio room. Entering the warmly lit work area, Hogan and Tiger were greeted by his much-relieved men.

"Bloody Hell, sir!" Newkirk called. "We were beginning to worry! What happened?"

"Don't ask!" Hogan snapped, glaring at Tiger. His momentary light mood had left him. Tiger's green eyes flashed instantly, meeting his scowl with open defiance. "We're just lucky that Feldcamp didn't have more men with him," he added, heading towards his personal locker.

"Feldcamp?" LeBeau hissed.

"Non! We are lucky that he was too stupid to guard me properly--the dirty fascist Bosche swine!" Tiger said.  

"Cherie..." LeBeau began, worriedly placing his hands on her arms. "You were in the hands of that filthy pig?"

"Oui, mon ami," she said, her eyes softening. "The Gasthaus proprietor, Bormann, betrayed me. He is a traitor!"

"Guv'nor, is that true?" Newkirk asked. Hogan stuck his head from behind the open door of his locker where he was changing back into his uniform and nodded. The door barely concealed his movements, but in deference to Tiger's presence he felt it appropriate to at least put up the pretense of modesty.

"Kinch, send a message to the leader of the Wertheim Underground. Let 'em know about Bormann. He's their boy--they need to take care of him. Today!" He stepped out from behind the locker door, and before closing it, pulled out his bomber jacket. As he did, he continued giving instructions. "I want to know how long he's been working for the Gestapo." He zipped up his jacket, and straightening it, leaned against the locker. "I want the names of everyone he's sold out, and I want the names matched against anyone whose disappearance or arrest we weren't able to figure out. Got it?"

Kinchloe nodded and was about to start transcribing the message, when Hogan spoke again, his expression hard. "And Kinch, tell 'em I don't care how they do it." He glanced over at Tiger and saw her caressing LeBeau's cheek tenderly. Feeling an inexplicable stab of jealousy, he stuck his thumbs into his jacket pockets and glared at her.

Feeling Hogan's eyes on her, Tiger leaned forward and tenderly kissed LeBeau on either cheek. Then her eyes raking pointedly over Hogan said, "It is always good to have friends who care what happens to me, Cherie." Hogan rolled his eyes and moved over to Kinchloe's workstation.

"Gosh, ma'am...we all care what happens to you," Carter said. "Especially the colonel." Sidling up close to her, he lowered his voice slightly and cupped his hand over his mouth, speaking into her ear. "I kinda think he' little sweet on you." Having said that, Carter looked down and shuffled bashfully, blushing furiously. Tiger glanced quickly at LeBeau and Newkirk who were each nodding knowingly.

"I almost forgot, sir," Kinchloe said, handing Hogan a brief communique. "This came in while you were out." Nodding, Hogan took it from him and started reading. Tiger watched him from where she stood and saw a look of concern flit across his face. At this she felt a sudden cold chill.

"In the few months since we started this little underground operation, I've never seen the colonel lose his cool over anything. That is...except on two occasions." Newkirk paused, giving Tiger a meaningful look. "The first time was about a month ago, shortly after you returned to Paris following your mission together."

It was Tiger's turn to blush. Newkirk and LeBeau exchanged looks of triumph. It appeared that they were right--their commanding officer seemed to have fallen in love with the lovely French agent.

"Oui, Cherie..." LeBeau agreed, nodding eagerly.

"And the second time was yesterday when we received the message that he was to meet you in Wertheim," Newkirk added slyly. Tiger turned slowly to him. As she did, the light caught a slight discoloration under her cheek as well as several other scratches and abrasions on her face and arms that had been hidden by the shadows in the tunnel.

Gently, Newkirk caught her by the chin and turned her face this way and that. Then, inspecting her arms carefully under the light, he gave a soft gasp. "Did Feldcamp do this to you?" he asked, all teasing gone from his voice.

LeBeau unsheathed a stiletto he usually kept well hidden and became abruptly dangerous. "If he laid his hands on you, I shall personally--!"

"Non...non, mon amis," Tiger said. "Feldcamp did not do this--"

"Who needs Feldcamp and his goons, when the lady can get herself all banged up by her lonesome?" Hogan cut in. Tiger stiffened instantly and was about to retort, when Hogan held up his hand. "That'll have to wait. I have a message from London that concerns you." He handed it to her and waited while she read it, his back against the tunnel wall, arms crossed in front of him.

The expected explosion didn't come. Instead, she looked up at him, stunned. "They wish me to go to London? To train new agents? I do not understand...?" She looked at him, her eyes registering her incomprehension. "Why me?"

Hogan looked at his men and with a jerk of his head indicated that he wanted to be left alone with Tiger. Without a word, they quickly climbed the ladder leading to the barracks upstairs.

"Why you?" Hogan asked. "Maybe because you're the best. Who else but the best to train new operatives?" He had not moved from his position against the tunnel wall. He watched her, his face in shadow.

"But this is absurd--!" she protested.

"Tell me, Tiger..." he interrupted. "Why did you want this meeting with me?"

"To discuss the best ways to consolidate our respective cells and to better organize the escape routes for Allied flyers."

"Such a meeting could've been handled by any of your operatives. Why did you come yourself?" he asked, already suspecting the answer.

"I am the leader," she said, shrugging. "I cannot have others risk their lives on an operation that I would not do myself." Hogan did not say anything. He merely gave her a look of utter disbelief. After a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke.

"You set up a face-to-face meeting that could've been handled by any of our subordinates--risking either one or the both of us possibly being captured--over a topic that's little more than administrative in nature?" His dark gaze held her pinned in place. "Okay, tell me why you really came?"

This time, Tiger felt herself blush, and she looked down unable to meet his eyes. Again, Hogan didn't speak but waited for her to look up once more. When she finally did, she saw what she was feeling reflected on his face. His expressive eyes were probably his greatest weakness, she suddenly realized. They were truly windows into his soul. And at this moment she saw the same intense need and desire in them that she knew he must see in hers.

"That's what I thought," Hogan said simply. At his words, Tiger could only feel deeply ashamed for her actions. She turned away, unable to face him.

"If you knew, then why did you come?" Her voice was little more than a whisper.

"Do you even have to ask?"

Tiger whirled round at his question, and with a small cry made a move to go to him, but he immediately threw his hands out, stopping her.

"Don't!" The word sounded as if it had been wrenched from his heart. "Don't you see that we can't? We haven't the right! Others' lives depend on us. Like it or not, we have a responsibility to those whose lives we have been entrusted with. If we let our feelings get in the way..." He paused, the very feelings he was trying to deny warring with his sense of duty. "We just can't," he added, shaking his head.

Tiger stood unmoving from the spot where she had halted earlier. Sensing his embattled emotions, and feeling the same conflict within herself, she felt her eyes fill with unshed tears.

"But why do they want me in London?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" he asked, not looking at her. "A cooling off period. I don't know...maybe someone saw us acting like teenagers in the backseat of a car and reported our unprofessional behavior." He shrugged and finally faced her. "Who knows? Who cares?" he asked. "The fact is that it's true. We have behaved unprofessionally--placed our entire operation in jeopardy! And look where it's got you?" he added. "The Gestapo knows what you look like now. Feldcamp may not be the sharpest knife in the kitchen, but he's not entirely stupid! He won't rest now until he finds you. Your description is going to be splattered all over the occupied countries shortly."

Tiger's eyes widened as the implication of what he had just said dawned on her. Catching her sudden comprehension, he nodded.

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea that you go to London--"

"Non! I will not leave my operation!" Tiger said sharply. "London cannot order me to do so, either. I am a member of the Free French Underground! The ultimate authority rests with the FFF--the Free French Forces--not with London."

"That's true," Hogan admitted. "But London can have you cut out of the loop--no information, no needed supplies, or any other kind of assistance."

"They wouldn't dare--!" she protested. Hogan gave her a look that told her they would indeed. "But what shall I do, mon Colonel?" The thought of being forced to abandon the men and women under her command was almost more than she could bear. The tears that she had fought against earlier began to spill. At this, Hogan was immediately at her side and scooped her into his arms.

Almost before either knew what was happening, they were locked in a passionate kiss, their desire almost overwhelming their senses and ability to reason. Hogan could taste the salt of her tears as he kissed her, the warmth of her lips stirring feelings he had recalled only in his dreams. They clung with a hopeless knowledge that it would be for the last time.

Reluctantly they separated, backing off from each other. Hogan moved behind Kinchloe's workstation, placing the table between them.

"Tiger, the Gestapo knows what you look like." Hogan's low voice was ragged with intensity. "If they caught you..." He paused, and swallowing shook his head. "I don't know what I'd do--"

"You would do your duty, Cherie," she said quietly. "As I know I would, should the same ever happen to you."

"Would we?" he asked. "Would I...?" He shook his head. "I'm not so certain."

"I am." Tiger spoke with absolute confidence. Giving her a rueful smile, Hogan nodded.

"I guess you're right. But that doesn't help you. London still wants you to report to Allied Headquarters." It was Tiger's turn to nod in loath agreement. She was about to speak, when Hogan's eyes took on a characteristic faraway look. "Maybe if we contacted them...?" he said. "...Convinced them that you were needed here...couldn't be spared?" At her doubtful look, he shrugged. "Couldn't hurt, could it?"


Saturday 20 FEB 1943/0100hrs local

But wise men never fall in love so how are they to know...


Kinchloe looked curiously at his CO and then over at Tiger. They each appeared incredibly guilty, like kids caught doing something extremely naughty. And yet, it was Hogan who had called him down here, so Kinchloe was not entirely sure why he felt as if he had interrupted something intimate between the two of them.

Tiger was studiously maintaining a cool distance from them, her profile turned away, and Hogan--Kinchloe's eyebrow went up a notch--was acting uncharacteristically nervous. Neither Hogan nor Tiger spoke.

"Colonel...?" Kinchloe said hesitantly. "Maybe if you told me what was bothering you--?" As if I don't know already. After all, he had transcribed the message about Tiger. Hogan and Tiger exchanged glances. Again, Kinchloe had the inexplicable feeling that he was intruding on something private. He cleared his throat and stood. "Maybe I should just go back upstairs--?"

"No! Stay!" Hogan said too sharply. "It's better if you stay," he added lamely. "Kinch...I need you to send a message to London--" He stopped and faced his friend squarely. "First, I need to find out why they want Tiger! Second, we need to find a way to convince them that Tiger can't be spared. That anyone else can train new agents, but only Tiger can do what she does." He paused, adding tentatively, "Only I'm not sure that they'll believe anything I say--" Hogan ignored, Kinchloe's look of surprise at his admission. "--So, we'll cross that bridge when we have to." He held his NCO's eyes steadily. "And, Kinch...? This is Top Secret--the other fellas can't be told."

Glancing from Hogan to Tiger, who was even now looking expectantly back at him, Kinchloe nodded. "What're friends for?" he asked simply. Both Hogan and Tiger gave him looks of relieved gratitude.

"Thanks, buddy...I owe you one!" Hogan said gratefully.


Saturday 20 FEB 1943/0145hrs local

When we met I felt my life begin...


In the end, the Top Secret transmissions left Hogan feeling drained. Someone had indeed reported Hogan and Tiger to Allied High Command. That someone had been the French physicist--Dr. Jean Baptiste--whom they had rescued the previous month. However, he had not reported a clandestine love affair between the two operatives. Instead, he had reported that the Frenchwoman had acted entirely uncooperative during the time he had been with them. That whatever the very reasonable American colonel had recommended, she had rejected completely out of hand.

Baptiste had added that in his considerable opinion the mission could have been jeopardized due to her utter lack of cooperation, which had endangered their lives a numerous amount of times. If it were not for the American colonel, Baptiste reported, he might not have been successfully extracted from German hands. He recommended that she be immediately relieved of her responsibilities with the Free French Underground.

Grinning tiredly, Hogan read the final transmission aloud. "Baptiste reported that such a woman made him ashamed to be a Frenchman." Tiger did not look amused.

"I should've left him to the Bosche!" she hissed, her green eyes blazing. Hogan glanced at Kinchloe who was studying them both with an amused expression. Catching his CO's look, Kinchloe immediately got busy powering down his equipment.

"Remember...Top Secret, Sergeant!" Hogan growled. "You don't breathe a word of this to the others, understand?"

"Breathe a word of what, sir?" Kinchloe gave him a perplexed look. The hard glint in Hogan's dark eyes softened instantly.

"Thanks, buddy." The two men shook hands, and then Kinchloe retreated back upstairs. Neither Hogan nor Tiger spoke for several minutes after Kinchloe left. Finally, Tiger broke the silence.

"So..." she said softly.

"So..." Hogan repeated. "Now what?"

"Now, I return to my people...and my duty," she said. Tiger glanced up him, her lovely green eyes shining with tears she refused to shed.

"Not yet," he said with a firm shake of his head. "There are too many patrols looking for's too dangerous--"

"Non, mon Cherie," Tiger whispered. "The danger lies here...with you. Even now I feel a need to be in your arms. To forget the war. And my duty. If I remain here even one more minute I shall surely be undone." She turned her back to him. "No...better if I leave. Now, this moment!"

"But that's crazy!" Hogan protested. "That's like you jumping out of that moving vehicle! I won't let you risk your life like that!" Tiger turned and faced him then, a smile struggling to break through. Instead, a single tear tracked its way down her cheek.

"Sometimes, it is better to jump from a moving vehicle rather than face the greater danger ahead," she said. "As now. It is best that I leave. Otherwise, I won't be able to leave at all...!"

Looking away, Hogan at last nodded in agreement.


Saturday 20 FEB 1943/0230hrs local

So open up your heart and let this fool rush in.


As his men prepared to escort her, Hogan silently stood in the shadows, leaning against the tunnel wall. When they were ready to leave, Kinchloe came up to him.

"Sir, we're ready."

Hogan nodded distractedly, his eyes on Tiger. Tiger bravely returned his gaze. Neither spoke. Finally, Hogan turned away determinedly. As the sounds of their soft footsteps faded down the exit tunnel, he began climbing the ladder to the barracks upstairs.

Back to work, Colonel...The war's waiting.


The End

Text and original characters copyright 2002 by Syl Francis

This copyright covers only  original material and characters, and in no way intends to infringe upon the privileges of the holders of the copyrights, trademarks, or other legal rights, for the Hogan's Heroes universe.