A New Job - Pt 2 (Explicit)

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

If there was one thing Franz hated more than getting up at 0200 hours, it was going to a camp filled with Allied prisoners - prisoners who would drive him mad if he were to let them. Franz knew he was supposed to supervise morning roll call - Klink had left a quite nice list of things he needed to do - but he didn't want to go outside in the freezing cold and freeze his ass off while the prisoners jeered at him. And then there was the small problem of Hogan. Franz needed to neutralize him before everything went to hell in a hand basket.

He turned to Beowulf and petted the dog's ears. "What are we going to do, darling? We're sitting right in camp with a maniac and I can't order him whipped without being whipped myself!"

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert flipped the collar of his bomber jacket up, wrapping his gloved hands around himself in an attempt to keep warm. The constant cold weather in Germany sucked; having to stand outside at fuck o' clock in the morning sucked even worse. Was it too much to ask for the sun to come up before he was rudely awakened from his slumber? Apparently so.

"For a people that claim to be so efficient, the krauts sure dropped the ball regarding time management," he grumbled to himself. "Where the hell do they think anyone is gonna go at this hour? For crying put loud, the sun isn't even up yet!"

He wondered if Klink's replacement would be another Luftwaffe officer or Burkhalter himself. Or God forbid, Schultz. Much as Robert liked the fluffy sergeant, the man was good at running a prison camp...too good. Schultz had made carrying out missions impossible when he'd been in charge. After the count of him and his men came to an end, Robert glanced at the Kommandantur, but there was no sign of the replacement kommandant yet.

"Great...this one can't even read a clock," Robert muttered, taking a deep breath before shouting towards the building. "Hey, new guy! Hurry it up, will ya? Some of us have better things to do than freeze to death!"

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Waffenschmidt came out when he was ready and surveyed the assembled prisoners. He casually ate last season's apple and enjoyed the way the prisoners looked at him. They envied him, which was good, and none of them looked like they were going to rush his dog. For his part, Beowulf looked bored. He completely ignored the camp dogs, probably because he was half wolf and they were not, and instead focused his attention on the prisoners. Beowulf was more than enough to cow these prisoners.

"Colonel Hogan!" he bellowed. "You will serve as hostage until Colonel Klink has returned from furlough. As that order stands, you will sleep in the commandant's quarters... under guard. Gather your things and come now. As for the rest of you - dis-MISSED!"

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert narrowed his eyes when Klink’s replacement came out, trying not to stare at the apple in his hand. He knew that count all too well. Didn't much care for him, although after their last meeting, he'd thought von Waffenschmidt had left the country. Obviously that wasn't the case. Judging by the amount of complaints the announcement had triggered, his men weren't any happier than he was about this development.

"Alright, pipe down, fellas. I'll be fine," he said. He smirked and added, "Maybe we'll get lucky and the war will end before Klink gets back. Now that the Bald Eagle has vacated his perch, anything is possible."

The cheeky remark succeeded in calming them down, even generating a few chuckles. Robert didn't bother trying to talk to Kinch or any of his friends while he gathered up his meager possessions - he didn't want to risk being overheard. That kraut had been too clever for his liking the last time he’d been at Stalag 13. Besides, his team was the best at what they did. They knew when to stand down and when to continue the operation. Fortunately, this situation called for the latter action.

Once he had everything, he walked to the kommandant's quarters, deliberately taking his sweet time. At least he'd be warm during the time he was in here; that was a plus in his book. "For your sake, Colonel von Waffenschmidt, I hope 'hostage' is code for 'I wanna spoil you rotten without anybody else knowing about it'," Robert ground out. "Otherwise, I'm gonna be making a formal complaint to the Red Cross. I have rights. Legally, you can't do this to me when I'm already in jail."

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz looked up from sitting on the chair. Beowulf was in his lap and the dog looked so much like a wolf in that moment that Franz would have forgiven the man for bolting. He took a moment before answering, taking in the rough looking man in front of him. Colonel Hogan didn't look like much, but Franz knew the truth. This was the most dangerous man in all of Germany. By way of answering the question - he didn't feel much like talking - he handed Hogan an apple. That, of course, meant that he had to get close to Beowulf to take it.

Then he decided to speak. "That remains to be seen, Colonel. It completely depends on your behavior here with me. As you Americans say, no monkey business. You'll sleep in the guest quarters and I have ensured that you will have both a fire and blankets, though you will be locked in at night. You will also share my meals - I don't trust that Frenchman. So if he tries to poison me, you'll get it too."

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert eyed the dog before approaching, making sure his movements were slow. He didn’t think it was vicious - von Waffenschmidt would hardly be holding it if it was - but he wasn't taking any chances. It looked far too much like a wolf for his peace of mind. After taking the fruit from the colonel’s hand, he sat down on the couch, making sure he kept a safe distance from said wolf.

"Thanks," he said stiffly. He quickly tore into the apple, wanting to polish it off before it was taken away from him. He didn't bother hiding how good it tasted; fruit in general was something the prisoners didn't get much of. Of course, the fresh stuff was even rarer. That was why some of his men had scurvy. It didn’t take long for him to finish it off, then lick the sweet juice from his fingers.

"It’s great you're being so thoughtful, but I still have duties I've gotta take of. Senior POW Officer paperwork and all that good stuff. Plus, my men need me. Do you really expect me to stay in here and ignore them?" Robert questioned. "Or allow you to lock me in a room like an animal?" He folded his arms across his chest. "Like I said earlier, I have rights, including being able to sleep in a separate building from my jailer!" 

Truth be told, the thought of sleeping a warm bed with blankets and a fire was pretty tempting. Yet he didn’t trust the other colonel one bit. Didn’t really trust himself either, come to think of it. If he stayed, he was gonna do one of three things: personally kill von Waffenschmidt, send him to England, or fuck his brains out. It'd been too long since he'd had the pleasure of male company. Unfortunately, that wasn't something Robert could openly look for - the AAF would court martial him in a second if he did. Would throw him in jail too, but that was beside the point.

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

"You forfeited those rights the moment you broke into my quarters the first time," Franz replied. "And we aren't even getting into the hijinks with the train. I don't trust you and I don't trust your men. However..." He eyed the way Hogan tore into that apple. "Harvest time is coming very soon and my manor is lacking workers. Especially the orchard. I have not been authorized to pay you in cash - the General was quite clear on that - but I can pay your men in as much produce as they can carry. This is only the first fruit, not the ones I have been waiting for. As for the other, either you sleep here or in the cooler. You will spend your days with your men, but the nights here. Is that understood, colonel?"

He knew it was a risk taking the prisoners to the manor. They might try to run and there were all kinds of delicate plants a vengeful American might decide to destroy just for the hell of it. However, the other option was for the fruit to rot - sometimes literally - on the vine. The war meant that almost every person was otherwise employed, even for tasks that traditionally took precedent. Hogan, though, seemed to be a smart man. And he had a way to sweeten the pot.

"I am also prepared to grant your men attendance to a traditional worker's festival at the end of it. There will be food, cider, and pretty women," Franz said. He petted Beowulf some. "My only request is that you not make a fool of me for this."

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert listened carefully to what von Waffenschmidt was saying. He didn’t regret the break-in – London had wanted those documents, and they tended to get whatever they wanted. And he wasn’t in the habit of refusing orders from the brass. If they got too angry at him, they could cut off all communication and leave him to fend for himself. That was why he tried not to piss them off too much. He did ask for a few luxuries here and there, though. It was the least London could do with all the outrageous requests they made of him and his men. Sometimes, he thought they’d forgotten he was, legally, still a prisoner of war.

Not being able to be paid in cash didn’t come as a surprise. At least Klink was willing to share a cigar of his own accord every once in a while; Robert doubted Burkhalter even knew what the word ‘share’ meant. Part of him was tempted to say he’d sleep in the cooler just to see von Waffenschmidt’s reaction, but with his luck, he’d have a guard there too. He wasn’t opposed to being warm – although doing so while his men shivered under ratty blankets took some of the enjoyment out of it – but he objected to being ordered about. He hadn’t busted his ass and earned his eagles quickly for nothing!

“Yeah, I understand,” he grumbled. “You’d better not walk around here naked, though. Really don’t wanna have werewolves bursting through the window because they saw a full moon. If nothing else, I’d consider that a form of torture.” That was a lie. If the ass he'd seen was any indication of how everything else looked, Robert wouldn’t mind a peep show. He mentally told his libido to shut up before speaking again.

“Now when you say ‘carry’, can they bring a bag to put the produce in? Cause that’d still be considered carrying,” he pointed out. “Regarding the festival you mentioned, are we allowed to talk to the women? Or make out if they’re willing? If so, I might be able to get you a work detail.” His eyes followed the other colonel's hand as it moved. “Also, your dog is beautiful. Is it a boy or a girl?”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

"His name is Beowulf," Franz replied. "Like the poem. My brother got him for my birthday two years ago. He's quite tame, by the way. You may pet him."

He scratched Beowulf's ears as he considered. Hogan was a sharp one and he had expected the question about the satchels. However, they were expecting well over three tons of produce from the orchard alone, so a few hundred pounds were nothing. Besides, Hogan didn't know what kind of work he was signing up for.

"As for the satchels, yes. If your men do a good job, I can even seen that a steer or two is... Misplaced," Franz finally said. "I don't think losing five hundred pounds of produce to the help is a great loss. My only wishes for your men regarding the female workers is that you do not force yourself on anyone, nor do you leave a race of bastards behind you."

"Oh, and Colonel? If my sleeping naked offends you, don't break into my quarters. Now, would you like breakfast?"

[Col. R. Hogan]

"Your brother has great taste then," Robert said. He looked surprised at the offer, but didn’t hesitate to approach the dog and pet him. "What a good boy you are, Beowulf." He looked up at von Waffenschmidt. "Say, you don’t have any treats I can give him, do you? I've always loved animals. Having this handsome fella around might just be the best part about this arrangement."

He thought about how nice it would be to have extra supplies. The little Frenchman worked wonders with military rations - thinking about what he could do with actual meat and produce was practically droolworthy. Especially five hundred pounds of it. Bribes were the best currency one could have in a POW camp, and Robert liked to make sure he was rich. It'd paid off more than once. Nothing was free, though, which was why he was prepared for some other condition to be sprung on them. He knew how the krauts operated by now.

"I'll talk to my men, Colonel, but I can’t force them to do anything," Robert replied. "As far as forcing ourselves on women or anything else, I'm offended you'd even suggest those things. All of us still know what honor means." Although unspoken, his tone added that the SS ones didn’t. His stomach growled at the question. "Yes, actually...as long as I don't have to share your silverware too. That's where I draw the line." 

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz sprawled back on the couch like the count he was and calmly eyed Hogan. "Harvest work is hard, you understand. With the war, we lack machinery. I shall have to trust your men with scythes, hooks, horses, and many other dangerous tools. Tell your men to not try anything stupid - the woods around the manor are deep and there are wolves." He petted Beowulf for a second and gave Hogan a long look. "Tell me, Hogan, have your men seen what's left of a man after a wolf has torn him to bits? It's not pretty and there is hardly enough left to bury. I do not hunt the wolves and they know me and my men. But they do not know you and yours."

Five hundred pounds of produce and a steer was much less than what he would be paying traditional workers. The bit about the wolves wasn't a joke either. A small smile played on his lips as he watched the man. He summoned one of the soldiers, who brought out a tray with eggs, butter, small rolls, and smoked trout. This was far different from what Klink ate. It was very rural and rustic, the diet of a gentleman farmer rather than a city born minor baron. Franz also drank tea, not coffee, and he gestured for Hogan to dish himself out some.

"My brother is a good man," Franz finally said. "There is word that he will marry the general's sister. I hope she likes a poet who breeds wolf-dogs."

[Col. R. Hogan]

"I'll tell them," Robert replied. "In answer to your question, no. I grew up in the suburbs. We didn't have to worry about wolves. Had a few coyotes come around, though. But my pop had a shotgun he was pretty handy with, so I didn't see too many of those either." He scratched Beowulf behind the ears, throughly enjoying the chance to openly pet an animal. "I kind of figured the work would be hard. You wouldn't be offering us so much stuff if it wasn’t."

It suddenly occurred to him that the payment he'd been quoted might not be a fair one. Most of the time he knew if he was being fucked over, but not this time. The only thing he knew about produce was that it cost less when it was in season...and he only knew that because he'd been dragged along to the store more than once. His childhood best friend, George, had come from a dirt poor family while the colonel himself came from a rich one. Fortunately, his parents were good people and hadn't cared if George practically lived at their house, so long as their son was happy. 

His mouth fell open once he saw the tray. After Robert poured himself some tea, he counted the rolls but only took two of them instead of the half he actually wanted. He didn't want to appear uncivilized. Or too eager, for that matter - he'd had food withheld from him as incentive to talk when he'd first been captured. The Gestapo hadn't cared about that part of the Geneva Conventions. Besides, it wouldn't do for anyone to know just how hungry he really was. Robert still had his pride.

"I'm sure Klink will breathe a sigh of relief if she does. He - did you just say he's a poet?" The colonel stopped in the middle of buttering a roll and stared at Waffenschmidt, certain he'd misheard something. A surprised expression crossed his face. "You, a full colonel in the SS, have a brother that's a poet? But that's a profession for...well, nice people. Ones who are gentle souls."

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz laughed softly and enjoyed the surprised look on his face. "Half brother, but still my brother. His name is Amery. We both serve our nation in different ways - I hold off the hordes of Soviets in the East and he makes people's hearts sing. There are... many things in Germany and Poland that I find distasteful now. And to keep both my job and my life, I spend as much time as I can in the East. This might come as a surprise to you, Colonel, but some of us are honorable. Your men will not go hungry whilst I am here. For one, I have access to more food and better quality of it."

Franz knew that quote was a little low. However, if he gave them too much it would simply rot. The prisoners had no way to preserve food that he knew about and that produce was the result of a year's hard work for the workers he had left. Beowulf licked Hogan across the face. The big dog seemed to like the man, which was nice, and he left his comfortable spot on Franz's lap to drape nearly one hundred pounds of dog across Hogan's body. Franz smiled softly. And to think that this dog had tried to take Hochstetter's face off just a week before.

"Don't make yourself sick," Franz mildly said. He buttered his own roll and put a piece of trout in the same slit. "I'm not cleaning up after you. You'll have to do that yourself."

Lunch was going to be a different story - Franz did not eat much meat as a rule, especially with the war, and Colonel Hogan was going to be introduced to a peasant's stew.

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert desperately wanted to ask what those things were, but he figured he wouldn’t get an answer. Which was fine by him; von Waffenschmidt had a right to keep secrets. Unless London needed them, that is. He still had to follow whatever orders his brass gave him. When the dog licked his face and laid on his lap, he laughed. “Awww. Here you go, boy,” he said. He gave Beowulf half of his first roll, smiling when it was scarfed down.

“Actually, it does. You guys have an awfully nasty reputation as a whole,” he replied. “But as long as my men don’t starve, I guess I can put up with you until Klink gets back.” Robert wasn’t worried about himself. A good commander always put his men’s needs before his own, no matter what they were. After he polished off his second roll, he helped himself to some eggs and a piece of trout, sharing a little bit of each with the dog. “I wouldn’t expect you to clean up after me, Colonel. But if I get sick, it’s because I’ve been living on the grey goo known as gruel for the last two years instead of real food. So, is Amery the reason you stayed in Germany after the...the train incident?”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

"I'm not leaving my brother," Franz finally said. "Especially not to the madness that has gripped my country. As for my wife, she was a figment to keep Marya in line."

There were things he could do and things he couldn't do openly without being shot. Burning paperwork was one thing. He could always blame a few missing transfers on Beowulf if he had too. As for Marya, he had known what she was doing and simply decided to turn a blind eye until it backfired. But Colonel Hogan was different. That man was sharp - brilliant, if he were to be honest - and knew how to get what he wanted. Franz would have to be careful around him.

"I am a man of honor," Franz murmured. "Your men will be treated well here, I swear it. As for Klink, he shall be gone for two months."

[Col. R. Hogan]

"I understand you not wanting Mayra in your life; I don't want her in mine either. I'm not desperate enough for female companionship to want that crazy dame around," Robert said with a shudder. "Also can't blame you for not wanting to leave Amery behind. I've got a brother too...his name is Thomas. He's kind of a dodo, but he's still family. Six years younger than me and already a lieutenant colonel - I'm sorry, commander - in the Navy. I think he's stationed somewhere over in Japan at the moment. Is your brother older or younger than you?"

He couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation with someone who'd once held him at gunpoint. Yeah, von Waffenschmidt had said he'd defect, but it didn't mean he had. Nor did it mean he was trustworthy. The colonel knew he had to be careful about what he said. He finally bit into his trout, moaning softly once the rich flavors touched his tongue. He did his best to appear casual while he ate, slipping more food to Beowulf whenever he thought von Waffenschmidt wasn't looking. He really liked the big dog. Besides, he wanted to ensure it remained friendly towards him.

"I'm glad to hear that. But if you're gonna be here for the next two months, you've got at least eight visits from Major Forgetful to look forward to," Robert informed him. "Maybe more. Hochstetter shows up about once a week, always blaming me for acts of sabotage I couldn't possibly have done. I've started trying to guess what said act is gonna be the minute I see his staff car arrive. It's a fun game." He smirked. "Then there’s the ones from Burkhalter, the random people who come by, the piles of paperwork Klink is constantly bitching about...l hope you didn’t take this job because you thought it was gonna be easy."

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz cringed as he thought of Hochstetter. "Of all the dogs I thought I would be dealing with her, he's the one I thought would have enough sense to stay away. Tell me, Hogan, has he done anything... else to you and your men besides harassment? If he does come here - and he touches you in any way - do let me know."

Franz could get rid of Hochstetter. It would just take a little work and he might have to expose his true feelings, but he could do it. It would be better if Hochstetter understood just who was in charge here. A colonel outranked a major, no matter the branch. Franz muttered a few words in German that he hoped Hogan couldn't understand. Who would want to hurt such a pretty face? Besides, Hogan might have done some breaking and entering, but he was a POW and he was bored. The commandos thing sounded like some boneheaded move cooked up by the brass in Berlin, so he didn't doubt that someone HAD tried to form that until common sense prevailed.

Beowulf licked Hogan's face again and wagged his tail so hard that it thumped on the furniture. The massive dog shed something awful, too. Hopefully Hogan didn't mind dog hair getting on everything he owned.

[Col. R. Hogan]

“We’re talking about Hochstetter, remember? The major is sorely lacking in that department. But I can’t think of anything else he’s done, unless you count trying to deafen us all with his constant hollering,” Robert replied. When he fully registered what ‘touching’ implied, a disgusted expression crossed his face. He wouldn’t mind if von Waffenschmidt did that to him – maybe – but not his nemesis. A man had to have standards. “I’ll definitely let you know. Unfortunately, that idea just killed my appetite. Ew.”

After Beowulf licked his face, the colonel laughed and scratched the dog behind the ears. Then Robert gave him the remainder of the food on his plate. “Eat up, boy. I’d hate to waste food. You need a bath with some de-shedding shampoo in a big way, though. Maybe I’ll give you one later if your owner can get ahold of some.” He looked at the man in question. “That okay with you, sir? I can get a few of my boys to help if need be when I go check on ‘em...all of us like dogs as long as they’re not trying to rip our faces off.”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz laughed softly. "You may, if you can keep him in the water. He does need to be brushed, though. You could make yarn with how this dog sheds! Beowulf is a companion dog, not a guard dog, and I do want him to be comfortable with people."

He sipped his tea and watched as Hogan left with the dog. Hogan was going to be hard, that was for sure. With that done, he went about his morning duties. Much of this could be done easily enough and he dropped off what he wanted for lunch with the cooks. Still, though, something wiggled in the back of his mind. Colonel Hogan might have been a stir crazy maniac, but he was smart. He hoped Colonel Hogan's men could deal with a wolf dog, though. Beowulf was something special.

[Col. R. Hogan]

The colonel led Beowulf to Barracks 2, then told his men what he wanted to do. It didn’t surprise Robert to see he had quite a few volunteers; bathing a dog was a change of pace from their usual activities. It wasn’t like they got to help with the German Shepherds, even though said animals were friendly with him and his men. Those dogs were supposed to loathe the prisoners. He figured Beowulf would cooperate as long as he was sufficiently distracted, though. Which he did…until the first spray of water hit him. That was when he howled and broke free.

Chaos erupted as Robert quickly gave chase. He barked orders at his men to split up so they could corner Beowulf. Luftwaffe guards scattered as he ran through the camp, still howling while flinging muddy snow everywhere. Several times, Robert nearly managed to catch him, but the big dog was fast. Falling face first in the mud after tripping didn’t help matters. He waved off inquires if he was alright, far more concerned with accomplishing his task.

“Never mind me…GET HIM!” Robert yelled. After he got to his feet, he wiped the mud from his face. He sprinted after Beowulf and finally managed to grab him. “Easy, boy. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.” Robert kept talking to the dog while his men bathed him. “We just wanna get you cleaned up. You’ve gotta look spiffy if you wanna attract a female dog, you know. None of ‘em are gonna look twice at you with your fur looking like that.”

“Colonel, a staff car just pulled in!” one of the prisoners called out. “Looks like Hochstetter is here!”

“Oh, swell,” he grumbled. That was all he had time to say before the newly-cleaned dog snarled, broke free again and ran full-tilt towards the car. “Dammit…BEOWULF! HALT, JETZT!” Robert gave chase once more, barely managing to grab him before he pounced. Beowulf howled still again and shook himself. The colonel couldn’t help but grin as Hochstetter was splattered from head to toe with mud and wet dog fur. “Aw, I think he likes you, Major. That’s his version of a present.”