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Title: Reunion (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl
Fandom: Hogan’s Heroes
Pairings/Characters: Robert Hogan/ Ivan Kinchloe, Peter Newkirk, Louis LeBeau, Andrew Carter 
Genre: Drama
Rating: R
Warnings: Implied after-effects of violence.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Ivan Kinchloe is on an extremely important mission during the Korean War.
Date Of Completion: January 17, 2008
Date Of Posting: January 18, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Paramount does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 628
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Happy Birthday, [personal profile] khylara ! This plot bunny finally nipped me and it also fit your request from my LJ First Anniversary Fic Request Meme. Pairing: Robert Hogan/Ivan Kinchloe (Hogan’s Heroes) Prompt: Reunion. Aah, the classics! :)
I know it’s a day early but I’m not sure if I’m going to be on-line on Saturday. 

Ivan nodded, and he and his squad moved forward.

 

The camp was small, surrounded by barbed wire and guards with machine guns.  Their eyes were hard and their mouths grim as they patrolled under a leaden sky.  Puddles of rainwater pocked the muddy ground, and the gray light matched the grayness of the buildings and their uniforms.

 

Dusk was falling, and as the shift changed, it would be the best time to attack.

 

This prisoner-of-war camp in North Korea was close to the Chinese border, isolated and filled with the stench of death and disease.

 

Ivan kept his heartbeat steady.  He could not afford to be jumpy or jittery or anything else.  He had to focus on his Mission and hope that they would be successful.

 

Nine other highly-trained men were under his command.  Six others waited as back-up, deep in the woods, but with binoculars trained on the camp and sharpshooter rifles ready.  The men with Ivan all wore black, carried knives, pistols, wirecutters, and garrotes.

 

The Hotel Hell was going down.

 

The guards closest to the fence went first after the wire was cut.  Newkirk’s quick fingers were still quick.  He winked at Ivan, who flashed a smile.

 

LeBeau and Newkirk followed Ivan to a barracks.  Carter and the rest of the men were already inside.

 

Ivan nearly reeled with the stench of unwashed bodies, waste, and blood.  Darkness and huddled shapes were all he could see after his eyes adjusted.  He decided he was glad there was no lightbulb in here.

 

Newkirk’s voice was hoarse as he spoke a name.

 

A ragged voice from a corner said, “In the building in the northwest corner.”

 

Newkirk spoke his thanks and he and Ivan and LeBeau left the barracks.  Carter and the men would handle things here.

 

The three of them had a Mission-within-a-Mission.

 

Stealthily they approached the building, tarpaper hanging off sections in the wind.  Stars were coming out as dusk was deepening. 

 

It was fortunate that the guard crew was depleted in this camp.  A wave of influenza had swept the camp, catching the guards as well as the prisoners.  The guards still on duty were weak and overworked.

 

Good, because otherwise we might not have been able to liberate this camp if they were at full-strength without an airstrike and more men.

 

Ivan hoped that Lady Luck was finally on their side.  Marya’s information was on-the-money so far.  She had no love for the Communists, her White Russian loyalties making it easy for her to pass along information.

 

Besides, she had a vested interest in liberating this particular camp, one which Ivan could agree with.

 

He and Newkirk and LeBeau exchanged looks and then carefully entered the building.

 

This time there was a brief struggle and one of the guards almost shouted out a warning before LeBeau cut off his cry with the garrote.

 

Ivan grabbed the keys off the man’s belt and strode down the hall, unlocking cells.  Empty.  All of them.

 

Until the last one.

 

He unlocked the door with trembling hands, almost afraid to see what…who…was inside.

 

He swung the door open.

 

Here the overwhelming smell was blood: heavy and cloying, and the light from the hall touched a leg clad only in shreds of a uniform.

 

A leg oddly bent.

 

Ivan knew there was more, but he stood in the doorway, fear and dread holding his tongue.

 

The figure in the corner stirred.  Somewhere in the dark, eyes squinted. 

 

“Who’s there?” rasped the beloved voice he thought he would never hear again.

 

“Ivan,” he said simply.

 

A sharply-drawn breath, then a half-sob, half-laugh.

 

“What..took you…so long?”

 

Ivan swept forward, murmuring “Robert,” as he gathered the broken body in his arms and felt painfully-thin, trembling arms slide around him.

 

Finally reunited.     

 

  

  

 
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Date: 2008-01-19 02:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] khylara.livejournal.com
THANK YOU! thankyouthankyouthankyou. You painted such a vivid picture in such a short story - absolutely wonderful and you need to keep writing them.

THANK YOU MUCHLY! Well worth waiting for. *squishy hug*

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