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Der Meißel der Seele	By : Wertiyurae Category: G through L > Hogan's Heroes Views: 1599 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 26
- 27
Kinch hadn’t expected them to accept his theory without an argument—heck, he hadn’t expected them to accept it with an argument either—but the whole thing had still been very frustrating. It was bizarre. For any other subject, those men would at least hear him out before dismissing what he had to say. But not this one. As soon as the word 'rape' had left his mouth, Newkirk started arguing that it couldn’t be rape with consent. When Kinch had tried to make Newkirk see that consent under threat of death (which was basically what Klink’s situation had been) wasn’t very meaningful consent, LeBeau had piped up that, sure, having sex with someone you didn’t care for wasn’t much fun but it was just sex.
Asking LeBeau if he would say that if it was a woman in Klink’s situation had encouraged Newkirk to make several jokes about the Kommandant’s preferences as well as some lewd comments the radioman would have rather not heard. It had been about there that he’d realized that he wouldn’t be getting anywhere with this discussion. In interests of not losing his temper, he’d decided that it would be best for everyone if they agreed to disagree for the moment. After all, it wasn’t as though any of them actually had to deal with Klink on any kind of personal level.
Kinch leaned back in the chair by the radio and laced his fingers behind his head. No, the only person who had to deal with Klink was Colonel Hogan. While he respected and liked the Colonel a great deal, he could admit that the man wasn’t well suited to the task in front of him. It wasn’t that he thought Hogan was completely without empathy; it was just that the Colonel was a very private person. It was seldom that he shared anything he thought outside of mission plans and even less often that he shared anything he felt that was deeper than humor or frustration.
Even though Kinch thought he knew the man better than anyone else here, he knew that he didn’t know much about the inner Hogan. Which was fine, of course—as long as the Colonel did what needed to be done, he had the right to be as closed off as he’d like—but it did present certain difficulties for him in this extremely private situation. It would take more than the Colonel’s seemingly endless supply of charisma to succeed here. Kinch doubted that Klink would fall for any of Hogan’s usual mock sympathetic overtures: Hogan would have to be as honest and as open as possible if he wanted to keep the Kommandant around.
And, judging from the way he’d sounded earlier, he wanted to. Kinch just hoped Hogan had stopped blaming the man for his predicament—it wouldn’t be possible to get Klink to open up if Hogan wasn’t going to admit that it hadn’t been Klink’s fault.
“Kinch?”
Kinch focused his eyes on the doorway, taking in the uncomfortable form of Sergeant Carter with a bit of surprise. He hadn’t been expecting any visitors—least of all any of those three. After all, he’d spoken to them less than ten minutes ago. And it wasn’t as though any of them had actually been interested in anything he’d had to say. “Carter? What do you want?”

A faint flash of hurt passed over the younger man’s face and Kinch realized that he’d been harsher than he’d had a right to be. Before Kinch had a chance to apologize, Carter was already moving on. “I want to ask you something.”

Gesturing towards the other chair, Kinch smiled and strived to keep his weary frustration to himself. Once Carter had taken a seat, he asked what Carter wanted to talk about.

Carter looked simultaneously ill at ease and determined. “Why do you think the Kommandant was, well, what you said he was? You never explained it.”

Kinch laughed without humor. “I didn’t exactly get a chance.” He regarded Carter with a fair amount of surprise. “You really want me to explain it now?”

“If you think something’s important to think about,” Carter confirmed earnestly, “then it usually is.”

Despite the topic of the discussion, Kinch’s smile widened into something more genuine: he’d missed being taken seriously. “There’s not much to it.” And there wasn’t. It took Kinch less than two minutes to tell Carter what he’d been telling Colonel Hogan all along.

“But why was he afraid of me,” Carter asked, sounding a bit disturbed by the prospect. “I mean, I never did anything to him.”

It was a good question, and one that Kinch wasn’t quite sure he knew the answer to. As he’d told the Colonel the other day, he was hardly an expert on rape. He could guess why Michelle had been afraid of men after her experience but Klink ... looking at Carter, it was hard to believe that the Kommandant would be afraid of the man for the same reason. On the other hand, maybe that part wasn’t so complex.

“From what I understand,” Kinch said, choosing his words carefully, “General Adler likes to get a bit violent.” He shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “You hit a dog enough times, it cowers no matter who tries to pet it.”

Carter was frowning thoughtfully. “You sure make it all sound so simple when you put it like that.”

“I think it is fairly simple,” Kinch said tiredly, feeling his earlier frustration return. “I know none of you are stupid, so I just don’t know why it’s been so hard to get anyone to even consider the concept.” He glared down at his crossed arms because Carter was not solely responsible for his mood and did not deserve to be glared at. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot; going over the whole thing, and I can’t find any problems with my logic.” He shook his head. “If it weren’t for the fact it’s really very simple, I’d start to think I was the one being stupid here.”

“I don’t think you’re being stupid,” Carter said with fervor. “It’s just ... well, you have to admit it’s not exactly something you normally have to think about.”

“I suppose not.” Kinch looked up. “What do you think?” Carter hadn’t really said anything when he’d been trying to explain it earlier.

Carter pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in thought for several long moments. Then he relaxed and looked back at Kinch with a small smile. “I think you’re probably right—having to deal with Adler is making Klink act weird, and your reasoning makes more sense than anything I’ve come up with.”

It was all Kinch could do not to thank the other man but he did grin for a moment before sobering again with something that wasn’t quite a sigh. “Now, if I could just convince Newkirk and LeBeau.” And Colonel Hogan, he added silently.

“They’ll come around,” Carter said as he stood. “I don’t know why they don’t want to listen to you now but I know they’ll come around.”

Kinch smiled. “I hope you’re right.”

“I’m sure he is,” Colonel Hogan said from the door way, startling both men by the radio. “After all, it took me a while to get it all through my thick skull and I’ve been right in the middle of this mess.”

To say that Kinch was surprised by the implications of the Colonel’s statement would not have done his feelings justice. “You mean you believe me now, sir?” Almost immediately, he regretted the question because it made him sound desperate to be believed.

Hogan smiled kindly. “Let’s just say that I’m more open to the idea than I used to be.” He straightened up, his bearing becoming more business-like. “I want you to get in contact with London—I want to get anything they have about General Adler.”

Kinch frowned. “I’m not sure what they’re going to be able to tell us that they haven’t told us already.” As a rule, when important people came to camp, Hogan contacted London for details on said people just in case there was something about them he could use. According to London, General Adler’s main importance in the Gestapo was the fact that his father had quite a bit of money and the older Adler wasn’t afraid to throw it around. Spoiled, rich generals weren’t of much use and, probably, weren’t going to cause too much trouble. So they had thought, anyway.

“I know,” Hogan said with the barest hint of frustration, “but maybe there were things they didn’t think were important enough to tell us. Unsubstantiated rumors, maybe.” He shook his head. “I find it very hard to believe that this is the first time Adler’s pulled something like this. And, if he’s done this before, I find it extremely hard to believe that no one has even the slightest idea of what he’s been up to.”

While Kinch doubted the General would still be a free man if someone in Berlin had doubts about his conduct, he saw no point in saying so. Contacting London wouldn’t do any harm and, if there was any possibility it could help, then it wasn’t a waste of time. “Okay, sir.” Then a thought occurred to him. “What should I tell them if they ask why we want to know? Do you want me to tell them the truth?”

Hogan frowned in thought before shaking his head slowly. “We’re treading on the line of giving aid to the enemy here and I’m not sure London would approve—even taking into account how useful Klink has been to us.” He rubbed his eyes, betraying his weariness. “Tell them ... Just tell them to trust me and, if that’s not good enough, tell them they owe me.”

“And if that isn’t good enough?”

“If that’s not good enough,” Hogan said, determination overcoming everything else, “then send for me—I’ll see if I can’t make them see reason.”

Kinch was suddenly glad that he wasn’t in London. “Yes, sir.”

Hogan turned as though he was going to leave but then turned back. “Carter, could you excuse us for a minute? There’s something I want to discuss with Kinch alone.”

For a moment, Carter looked like he might argue. Then he merely shook his head with a sigh. “Okay, Colonel.”

The Colonel watched the younger man leave with a look of amusement before returning his attention to Kinch, a much more serious expression taking control of his features. “I need some advice.”

Kinch motioned for his commanding officer to take the chair Carter had just vacated. “If I have any to give, it’s yours, sir.”

That got a slight smile. “Thanks, Kinch. That really does mean a lot.” Hogan took off his hat as he sat down, running a hand through his hair. “Klink said something to me today, and I’ve been having a hard time making any sense of it.”

Kinch uncrossed his arms and set his hands on his knees. “What did he say?”

Hogan looked down at his hat, fiddling with the brim as he spoke. “I was trying to get him to talk about what Adler was up to so I mentioned that Fraulein Hilda was worried about him.” He smiled again. “Which she is, actually.” He shook his head. “You know what he said? He said that she shouldn’t care—that he didn’t deserve it.”

He half chuckled. “I know I’ve been spending a lot of time wondering whether or not I should worry about him—whether or not he deserved my concern—, and he just comes out with that.” He looked up from his hat. “Why would he say that? I can understand not wanting pity—but not wanting some pretty girl to worry about you?”

It did sound strange. On the other hand, Hogan did say Klink was planning on ending it all. “Maybe he wants to make it easier to kill himself. If no one’s worried about him, he’s got no reason to tough it out.”

Hogan was already shaking his head. “That would make sense except he told me that he didn’t want to.”

Kinch felt himself frown. “But you said that he—”

“No,” Hogan interrupted firmly. “He doesn’t want to die. He seemed really adamant on that point.”

“Then why...?”

“He seems to think that killing himself and Adler is the only thing he can do.” Hogan ran a hand through his hair, his frustration plain. “Of course, he wouldn’t tell me why he thinks that’s the only thing he can do. God forbid the man make this easy!”

There was something about the way that the Colonel said this that made Kinch wish he’d heard this conversation for himself. “What happened?”

“He asked me why I wanted to know—why I should care one way or the other. 'Just tell me the truth—that’s not too much to ask for, is it?'” Hogan stood up abruptly, leading Kinch to suspect that the answer to that question had been ‘yes’. “So, I told him the truth ... at least, I thought it was the truth.” He huffed. “I’m such a good liar, I can fool myself.”

Kinch felt his brow furrow. “What did you tell him?”

Hogan’s back was to him so Kinch couldn’t see his expression but the tenseness of his posture told the radioman just as much. “I told him that the reason I cared about his welfare was because his death would be ...” his shoulders slumped. “Inconvenient.”

Kinch winced. He’d known his commander wasn’t the most empathetic person around but he would have thought he’d know better than to be so blunt—there was such a thing as too much honesty! “What happened then?”

“He said that at least he knew where he stood with me—which is a lot more than I can say,” Hogan said, sounding annoyed with himself. “I didn’t actually say his death would be inconvenient, you know: he connected those dots on his own.”

A smart man knew when to ask questions and when to wait. Kinch was a smart man and he didn’t have to wait long before Hogan sighed. “I’d thought I could keep all this on a purely professional level which, in hindsight, was pretty damn stupid of me considering what we’re talking about here.”

It had been stupid but Kinch understood perfectly why the Colonel would want to try and distance himself from the situation. That’s what he’d been afraid of—Hogan not being able to be open enough to gain the Kommandant’s trust. Then he frowned as something Hogan had said at the beginning returned to him. “What do you mean you thought it was the truth? Isn’t it?”
Now Hogan turned back, shaking his head. “I’ve spent some time thinking about this, and I’ve realized that I couldn’t have gotten further from the truth if I’d tried.”
Kinch was used to being caught off guard by Colonel Hogan but he usually could understand the leaps of logic after a moment or two. This time, he was a bit lost on the fine points. “But—”
The Colonel raised his hand for silence. “From a purely professional perspective, Klink has outlived his usefulness to us. You can’t manipulate a man who can barely stand to have you in the same room, for starters. He’s unpredictable now, and that makes him dangerous. I found that out this morning.”
His lips pulled back into what could have been a grin but wasn’t. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said he’d pointed a gun at my chest. He could have killed me. The fact that he didn’t I can only really attribute to luck.”
“You mean he actually tried to kill you?” Kinch asked, horrified.
Hogan shook his head. “I don’t think he actually wanted to hurt me but he’d been a little wild-eyed by then—he could have just as easily shot me by accident as by design.” He rubbed his eyes, tired. “I want to try and get the old Klink back if I can, but, honestly?, it’d be easier to start from scratch with someone else. I wouldn’t have to worry about aiding the enemy, for one thing.”
It made sense and Kinch was surprised that he hadn’t considered the problem from this angle before. However, now there was one thing that he no longer understood. Hogan and Klink were anything but close. “So, why do you want to help him, sir?”
For a long moment, it seemed as though the Colonel wouldn’t answer him. Then he shook his head, a weary smile tugging at his mouth. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
It was a lie but one that Kinch knew better than to contest just now. “Do you want me to contact London now, sir?”
Hogan nodded. “And, while we wait for that to go through, you can tell me how I can salvage this mess.”
“Yes, sir.” It was going to be a long night.
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Der Meißel der Seele