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FanFic
The Richard Dawson Experience
Last UpDated: 14 November 2001.
Site Copyright © 2000-2001. Lisa Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Story Copyright © 2001. Rhonda "StuntChick36" Inc., All Rights Reserved.
HAMMERLOCK
Considering the lack of privacy and personal space, life inside Stalag 13 wasn't all that bad. All the prisoners have become friends in some capacity, mostly because they share the same beliefs or ideals. But more importantly, every prisoner within the camp's barbed wire fences knows that they alone are the cover for an organized underground operation. And nobody in camp knows more about that operation than the men in barracks #2, and the female prisoner in barracks #4.
Colonel Hogan doesn't have to try very hard to keep the spirits of his men high; they all know how important their individual jobs are to ending the war quickly. Each man knows that he is just as important as the next guy and they must all work together to ensure success. Hogan boasts that he has the finest Allied 'machine' in all of Germany.
Every man in Hogan's outfit finds something to do to help boost their spirits also. LeBeau cooks for the men in the barracks, Carter is always in his lab coming up with new ways of blowing up a German tank or building, Kinchloe keeps to himself and reads when he's not on radio duty, and Newkirk has a game of poker going when he's not romancing Freddie in her barracks.
After evening mess, Newkirk and Freddie retire to her barracks for a game of gin. She likes to play cards as a form of relaxation, while he plays for blood.
"Gin," says a smiling Newkirk, laying his cards down.
"That's five straight hands you've won so far," Freddie calmly points out. She collects the cards and starts to shuffle them.
"Doesn't that bother you, love?" he asks with a smile.
She shakes her head. "No, it's just a game of cards. However, if I was playing pinochle with Hitler for the liberation of Germany and I lost, then I'd be a tad upset."
Newkirk leans across the table towards Freddie and smiles. "Come on, aren't you gonna yell just a wee bit? Or hit me?"
She raises her eyes to his and smirks. "No. Why would I wanna do that?"
He sighs. "I'm tryin' to make you mad so we can fight. I'm kind of in the mood for makin' up." Freddie leans in and takes his chin in her hand and gently shakes his head.
"You're always aroused."
"Yeah. But it's your fault," he says with a smile. "You take advantage of my inability to control myself." She smiles back.
"I know." Freddie kisses him sweetly and returns to shuffling the cards. Newkirk stands up and slowly walks around her, stopping behind her back. He cranes down and kisses her neck gently, making her close her eyes and tilt her head out of the way so he may continue. He rubs his hands over her shoulders and down her arms as he kisses down to her collar. Freddie backs away from him and stands up facing him, smiling like a vixen. He grins as she pushes him back towards an empty bunk. Newkirk stumbles and falls backwards onto the bottom bed, with Freddie lowering herself on top of him.
"Do you want me to take advantage of you now?" she asks slyly.
"Yeah," he replies softly. "Take full advantage of me." The two of them start kissing each other madly as their hands grope at one another's clothes. Just as things are starting to heat up, Schultz waltzes in, completely surprised by their actions. Freddie slowly sits up.
"Fraulein, please," says the stout guard, "you know you're not supposed to be doing that."
"I know, Schultz," she answers. "But Newkirk started it-"
"What the-" he protests, but Freddie covers his mouth with her hand. Schultz looks at Newkirk and wrinkles his face in disappointment.
"Newkirk, don't you Englishmen know how to woo a beautiful lady without resorting to such silly tactics? A German man can steal a woman's heart without being aggressive." His chubby face breaks into a smile. "Time for roll call." He turns and leaves, closing the door behind him. Freddie looks down at Newkirk as she takes her hand from his mouth.
"What did you mean, 'Newkirk started it'?"
She smiles and kisses him. "You wanted an argument, remember? Now we have something to make up for." A smile slowly creases his face as she continues. "You know, Schultz is right. German men aren't aggressive. The woman are. That's why we go for other European men." Freddie gets off of him and grabs her coat.
"Boy, am I glad I'm English," he says happily, grabbing his jacket and walking outside with her.
With all POW's in formation, Kommandant Klink addresses the camp 'family.' "As you may know, many of Germany's bravest and toughest fighting men are serving the Fatherland by guarding our prisoners."
The prisoners share a little laugh. One by one, their attention is diverted to the rather strong looking woman in a Nazi uniform and her entourage standing just behind and to the side of Klink.
Klink continues. "Our beloved Fuhrer wants to recognize their courage, and that is why he has sent Sgt. Brunhilde Metzler."
Newkirk, who is standing next to Freddie, whispers to her, "Blimey, that's the biggest lady Kraut I've ever seen!"
"Yeah," she answers. "I bet she can lift a fully loaded Tiger tank with one hand!"
"Herr Goebells," continues the kommandant, "has sent Sgt. Metzler on a morale boosting tour of all the POW camps in Germany to wrestle and, of course, defeat any prisoner who wishes to volunteer himself for the challenge."
"Wait a minute, kommandant," protests Hogan. "I won't let my men be used as entertainment for your guards. It's against the Geneva-"
"No, it is not," replies General von Hauser, Metzler's trainer. He turns his attention to Klink. "Now, Colonel, if we may discuss this event in your office..."
"Of course." Klink leads the party into his office as Schultz dismisses the prisoners. Hogan's men all rally to him for an explanation.
"Did you see the arms on that lady, Colonel?" asks a stunned Kinchloe.
"She had to be at least 7 feet tall!" says Carter.
LeBeau says, "She makes me feel even smaller than I already am." Freddie smiles as she puts an understanding arm around his shoulder. Schultz comes over to their little gathering.
"Excuse me, fraulein, but the kommandant wishes to see you immediately."
"Tell him I'm busy diggin' a tunnel under the east fence."
The guys smile and laugh at her joke. "What for?" Hogan asks.
"I didn't ask, but I'm almost sure it has something to do with Sgt. Metzler." Freddie looks at Hogan, who doesn't look sure but nods for her to go anyway.
"I'm goin' with ya," says Newkirk. He walks with Freddie over to the kommandant's office.
Freddie opens the door to Klink's office and says, "You wanted to see me, sir?" His office appears empty. Klink smiles at her very warmly, but she suspects trouble.
"Ah, yes sergeant. Come in and sit down." She looks at Newkirk, then goes over to a chair while he stands just behind her.
"What's the problem, kommandant?" she asks as she props her feet up on his desk.
"Fraulein," he says as he shoves her feet off, "I have a favor to ask of you."
"A favor? You want me to do you a favor?" She snickers, "Like what?" Klink stands up and starts to pace behind his desk.
"I have been in the Luftwaffe for several years. Like my father and grandfather before me, I rose quickly through the ranks."
"So quick that it blew the hair right off you head."
Newkirk tries to hold back his laughter, but Klink glowers at her and continues anyway.
"My point is that I am long overdue for a promotion. If you would agree to doing one small favor for me, I may be able to help you eh... help you out of prison."
"Kommandant," says Freddie, "you're out of your bald head. First of all, I wouldn't leave this camp unless Newkirk, Hogan, and everyone else came with me. Second, you and I are enemies. Why would I wanna do a favor for you?"
Klink smiles. "I'm not your enemy. I am your friend. After all, we are both German."
Freddie leans in on Klink's desk. "Where were you born?"
"Munich. Why?"
Freddie raises an eyebrow. "Bavaria, huh?"
"Yes."
She stays silent for a couple seconds. "I'm from Stuttgart. In Baden-Wurttemberg. Bavarians and Badens don't get along. Remember?"
Klink laughs nervously. "Of course. But we are all united now. One nation, behind the Fuhrer."
"And while you're there, give him a knife in the back for me, won't you?" she says with a slight smirk. Again Newkirk tries to control his laughter. Klink doesn't find any of her humor amusing.
"Fraulein, I'm asking you, as a personal favor to me, to help me get my promotion."
She gives in. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"
Klink sits back down at his desk. "Wrestle Sgt. Metzler." Freddie's eyes open wide with shock.
"You want me to what??"
"Sgt. Metzler has only wrestled men in her entire career. And when I told her that we have a female prisoner here, she wanted me to ask you if you would like to volunteer. It would be a change of pace for her."
Freddie slowly stands up. "Oh, yeah? Well, if she's such a fearless fighter for Germany, why couldn't she ask me herself?"
"I will," comes a voice from the back of Klink's office. Freddie stands up, turns around fast, and sees this mountain of a woman standing behind Newkirk. He doesn't turn around, but he looks at Freddie with a small amount of fear in his gray eyes.
"Peter," says Freddie, "walk towards me." He quickly moves to obey. When he gets to her side, he turns around and his mouth drops open.
"She wants to wrestle you?" he asks.
"That is correct," says Metzler. As she takes one step towards Freddie, Newkirk pulls Freddie back. The German giant smiles. "I see you fear me already. Good."
Freddie takes Newkirk's hands from her shoulders and steps forward. "I don't scare easily, honey. But go ahead and try." Newkirk grabs for her again. Metzler looks down at Freddie, who just clears her elbow by a few inches, and smiles.
"You are competitive. This I like. Then, I take it you agree to wrestle me?" Metzler looks over at Newkirk. "Who are you?"
He pulls Freddie closer to him. "Her fiancé."
Metzler steps back and looks at them both. "You two are going to be married?"
"That's right," says Freddie. "As soon as the Allies finish giving Hitler a good spanking."
The monster sergeant glares at Freddie. "That will never happen." Then she looks at Newkirk. "And neither will your marriage. You look like an intelligent man. That's an uncommon quality for an Englander. Why don't you marry someone of pure German blood. That way your children will grow up with superior genetics, and it will ensure the Master Race's longevity-"
Newkirk cuts her off short. "Bugger off. I asked her, she said yes. As soon as the war ends, I'm makin' her my wife," he says. "Nothin' is goin' to stand in our way."
Metzler begins pacing the room, concocting a plan. "I saw you standing in line with the others out in the compound. You are a very... attractive man."
As her blood starts boiling, Freddie looks at Newkirk, who is looking back at her much the same way.
"I would like to get to know you, Peter," says Metzler. "That is your name, yes? Peter?"
Newkirk remains still, not even shaking his head. Freddie's temper is being tested. "Incase you didn't hear him the first time, he's my fiancé. Sich zuruckhalten (So back off)." The big German smirks.
"Ladies-" interjects Klink. But it's no use.
"Sprechen Sie Deutsch? (Do you speak German)?" asks Metzler. Freddie looks her dead in the eyes and stands up straight.
"Ich bin Deutsch. (I am German)," she says slowly, proudly.
Metzler's gaze turns serious. "Wenn du bist Deutsch, wieso bist du schon angezogen im Soldatenanzug Englander (If you are German, why are you dressed in an English soldier's uniform)?"
"Ich ware leiber Englander als Nazi (I would rather be English than a Nazi)."
Metzler smiles at Freddie, who by now has been pegged as a traitorous slug. For Newkirk's benefit, she speaks in English. "If you love him so much," she says as she paces again, "then it is safe to assume that you would die for him?"
Freddie follows suit without missing a beat. "Without thinking twice."
Klink tries to separate them as cordially as he possibly can. "Uh, ladies-" But he is shut out again.
Newkirk steps in and starts barking at Metzler. "Stop threatenin' her, you male impersonator." Metzler turns off her charm and returns to her Nazi state of mind again. She grabs Newkirk by the lapels of his coat and tries to kiss him as he struggles to free himself, but Freddie jumps in and pulls Newkirk away. Metzler and Freddie square off and start staring each other down. Klink all but hides under his desk when they prepare to fight.
"Freddie, come on," beckons Newkirk, tugging on her sleeve. "Let's get outta here."
Without looking at him, she says, "I didn't like the way she tried to kiss you."
"I didn't like it either," he says. "Let's go before she rips us apart."
"Not until she understands that she can't have you!" Freddie swings at Metzler but misses. The German giant picks Freddie up by the neck and tosses her through Klink's office window with ease, shattering the glass. Freddie lands on her head in the dirt outside. Looking up at the chilly evening sky, she tries to get her bearings as Newkirk jumps out the window and kneels next to her.
"Freddie! Are you alright?" He helps her sit up, both of them looking at her bleeding hands. "Oh, God. You're hurt."
She winces as the pain in her head increases. "I must have sliced my hands when I went through the window. But I landed pretty hard on my head." Newkirk gets her up to her feet and gently kisses her temple as he helps her back to the barracks.
"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."
"Ouch!"
"Sorry, love," apologizes Newkirk as he cleans the deep scrape on Freddie's scalp. "How do your hands feel?"
She looks down at her bandaged fingers and gauze-wrapped hands. "Alright, I guess. The medic from barracks #6 did a nice job stitching them up. But I suppose this means that I won't be wrestling that overgrown lady ape, huh?"
"Right." Newkirk sets the washcloth down in the sink and sits on the table next to Freddie. He touches her face and says, "How's your head?"
"Still throbbing."
Newkirk puts his arm around her. "I got something to cure that." He kisses her softly on the mouth. He pulls away a little but she tugs on the front of his sweater to bring him back, this time kissing him deeply.
"I think it's workin'," she says quietly.
"Here. Take two and call me in the mornin'." He sets two quick pecks on her lips.
"How 'bout if I take as many as I want, and you stay until mornin'?"
He smiles. "I like that prescription. You should have been a doctor." They kiss each other passionately until there's a knock on the door. Enter Klink and General von Hauser.
"Fraulein," says the general, "Sgt. Metzler requests your company in her quarters." He looks sternly at Newkirk. "And you, too."
Klink and Gen. von Hauser escort the pair over to Klink's private chambers for a drink. When they enter the room, Freddie and Metzler glare at one another as she rises from her seat on the sofa and goes over to Newkirk.
"Hello, Peter," she says in an unbelievably low voice, dismissing Freddie as if she isn't there.
Freddie glares at Metzler and swats her hand from his chest. "Don't start that again." Newkirk gets between the two women and guides Freddie over to a seat.
"What did you want to see us for?" asks Newkirk. "I'm sure you didn't invite us over to be sociable."
"Of course I did," says Metzler in a cheery mood. "I always celebrate with my opponent a few days before a match."
"Celebrate?" asks Freddie.
"Yes. To praise the winning spirit of both myself and my competitor."
"How quaint..." mutters Freddie.
Newkirk asks, "Why? Shouldn't you be trainin'?"
"My darling Peter," she says, "when you are undefeated like I am, you don't need to train. I am in top physical condition."
"For now," says Freddie, soberly. "But come Saturday, I'm gonna send ya to the nearest hospital."
"She has an excellent winning attitude," says von Hauser, "but unfortunately she's squandering it on the wrong side of the war." He and Metzler chuckle as Newkirk and Freddie sit stone-faced.
"It's not an attitude, herr general," says Freddie. "This is the way I am."
"And for some reason," says Newkirk, "the 'wrong side' seems to be winnin'." This, of course, stops the laugher.
After ten excruciating minutes of trading mild insults and playing mind games, Freddie's ready to go back to her barracks. Newkirk stands up and they both walk to the door until Metzler stops him.
"Don't leave, Peter," she says, stroking his arm. "There's so much I wish to talk to you about."
"He's leavin' with me," says Freddie, holding her ground. Metzler isn't interested in her comments.
"Unless you would like to exit through a window again, I suggest you leave us at once."
"Hey, don't you threaten her," defends Newkirk as he takes Metzler's hand from his arm.
"I'm not threatening her, Peter darling," she says in a sugary tone, "I'm making a promise." Freddie resigns herself to keeping the peace, so she steps back and pulls Newkirk with her.
"Alright," she says, "I'll go, but I don't want to. Do whatever you have to and be careful." She strokes his sideburns. "I won't be far away."
He squeezes her shoulders and smiles warmly. "I'll be back in your arms shortly, love," he whispers as he kisses her, letting his tongue dance with hers for an all too brief moment. "I love you."
"I love you," she replies. She kisses him once more on the lips, glares at Metzler, then exits.
Newkirk watches as Freddie leaves. Metzler rubs her large hands over his shoulders. "Finally, we are alone." His body goes cold with every move of her hands. Von Hauser takes this as his cue to leave.
"Forgive me if I refuse to jump for joy." She saunters over to the couch and pats the seat next to her. "Come here and sit beside me."
"No, thank you. I'd much rather stand."
"Peter," she warns, "if you want to live to see your wedding day, I suggest you sit down." He slowly goes to the couch and sits down next to her, staring blankly across the room. He's trying desperately to ignore the hand that's reaching inside his jacket and rubbing his chest. "You are so handsome." Newkirk cringes as her mouth kisses and nibbles his ear.
"What are you doin'?" he asks.
"I want to show you why Germans make the best lovers," she says, her breath getting heavier as her hungry mouth moves to his neck.
"Get off of me," he says as he stands up.
She looks at him with a starving sexual fire in her eyes. "Your diminutive girlfriend is not German if she doesn't follow the Fuhrer." She stands up and starts to slowly follow him around the room. "And I will defeat her for the Fuhrer. Then I will prove to you that I can love you better than she can."
"You couldn't love a kitten," he says as he slinks around the room, trying to avoid her. "She's the only woman for me. There isn't anything in the world I wouldn't do for her." Metzler stops trailing him.
"Really? Anything?"
"Anything."
"Then... it would be safe to assume that if you felt her life was in danger, you'd try to protect her. Correct?"
"Yes." She turns from him and walks slowly back to the couch. Immediately, he becomes suspicious. "Why do I have the feeling you're cookin' something up?"
"You're very perceptive," she says with a smirk. "I like that in a man. But I think I should warn you. Her life is in danger."
"You wouldn't dare," he challenges.
"I would. And I will." She rises again and pours herself a drink. "However, there is one way you can prevent me from disposing of her."
He's beginning to get extremely tense and angry. "What is it?"
She turns to him. "Make love to me." Newkirk instantly feels physically and emotionally ill.
"You sick, disgusting-"
"I will make sure she dies painfully. And with enormous embarrassment."
"No, I won't do it."
Metzler laughs. "Don't become a hypocrite, Peter. You said yourself that you'd do anything to protect her."
"Yes, I did. But I don't think I should trust you. Even if I accepted, there's still no guarantee that you won't kill her anyway."
"What's wrong, Peter?" she asks sweetly. "You know you can trust me."
He scowls at her. "I trust you about as far as I can spit."
"You have my word, liebchen." Her voice becomes demanding. "What is your answer? I will not kill her if you make love to me right now." She waits a few seconds for an answer. "The choice is yours."
He paces the floor and thinks hard. After a few minutes of silence, he says, "All I would have to do is... make love to you... just once? And Freddie's safe?"
Metzler smiles. "Yes."
Newkirk steps closer to the sofa and says, "My Freddie's a tough girl..."
"Peter, what is your answer?" she says impatiently. "For her sake, just say 'yes.'"
He smirks and says, "Oh, I'll say yes... but only if Freddie's underneath me." He walks to the door and exits.
Freddie's half-asleep on her bunk when she hears a noise at the door. She rolls over and sees the door open a little with a figure shrouded in black creep in, closing the door behind it.
"Peter?"
"Yes, love." The figure approaches her bedside and kneels, the moonlight revealing that it's him. "It's me."
"What took you so long?" she asks as she sits up and rubs her eyes. Newkirk climbs into bed and takes her into his arms and snuggles close to her.
"I could tell you, but you wouldn't believe me."
"Would you rather I get mad?"
He giggles. "Alright, I'll tell you. That crazy woman asked me to make love to her tonight."
Freddie's voice gets a little louder. "She what??"
"See, I told you-"
"Go on," she urges as she lays back down in his arms. "What else did she say?"
"Well, she told me that she'd kill you if I didn't." Freddie looks at him as he lets her go.
"She'd kill me if you didn't make love to her?"
"Yeah."
Freddie thinks for a moment. "What did you tell her?"
Newkirk looks at her seriously. "Naturally, I told her I wouldn't do it. I forgot how it all came out but I said that I'd do anything to protect you from harm, so then she said she'd let you live if I made love to her." His hands rubs her back to calm her down.
Freddie's a little shocked, but even more angry. "Wait a minute. Let's say for instance that you did make love to her. She could still kill me during the match, right? I think she's just tryin' to fight me mentally as well." She pauses for a second. "I don't trust her."
"That's what I told her!" As Freddie sits back and stews, Newkirk reaches up and touches her face. "I hope you're not mad at me for not goin' along with it. But I could never make love to anyone else but you. I really would give up my life for you-"
She smiles at him and cuddles with him. "Relax. I know you would, mein liebe. I'm not angry with you, Peter. I'm happy that you didn't accept her proposal." Freddie strokes his hair, making him relax and blink slowly. She slides down next to him and kisses him on the lips. "Knowin' that you didn't fall into her sick game, even if it could save my life, fills me with such strength. Your love empowers me. Love is stronger than any one man, Peter. So strong that the feeling must be shared with someone. God fills people with that kind of love, and anyone who dares tear it from me is in for the worst knock-down, drag-out fight of their life." Freddie gets closer to his mouth and says, "And with you by my side, she doesn't stand a chance." She kisses him softly.
Newkirk looks up at her, her face lit by the blue moonlight, and rubs his fingers over her soft mouth.
"Your wisdom is only half of your beauty, Fredricha."
She smiles. "Understanding is only half of yours." She leans forward and kisses his tender lips again. "We can win this little war together, love. You and me." Newkirk's arms swallow her up and hold her to his chest.
"Oh, God," he whispers as he buries his face in her neck. "I love you so much."
"Und Ich liebe dich, auch, Peter (And I love you, too). So very much." Her face rests on his warm neck, her lips gently dusting him with kisses as they hold one another.
The next day, many of the prisoners are constructing an outdoor wrestling ring and a grandstand on the south side of the camp. It looks just like the boxing ring in the gym, only it's a little smaller. Freddie and Newkirk stand a few yards away and watch.
"So that's the ring, huh?" he asks.
"Yeah. A flippin' boxing ring. I'd prefer to fight in the dirt than in a corral." She sighs and rubs the back of her neck. "I hope they aren't expecting us to play by the rules, because as soon as the bell rings, I'm goin' to start scrappin'. I pray to God that I can pull this off."
"I know you will, love," says Newkirk. They stand in silence for a few minutes until he says, "I'm still mad about what happened last night."
"Between you and that 'thing'?" Freddie says. She slips one hand around his waist and hooks her fingers onto his belt loops. "Don't worry about it. It's over. You did what you could without compromising your principles. That's a very difficult thing to do."
"Yeah, but here we are, looking at what could be the spot where you might-"
"Peter, I have no intentions of dying." She starts to wander away. "Trust me." Newkirk follows her as they walk around a bit.
"I had the chance to prevent this from happening. And I didn't take it."
"So, what you're sayin' is, is that you would have made love to Metzler?"
"Of course not. I'm sayin' I could have knifed her." Newkirk brings his left boot up and takes a boot knife out to show Freddie. "No one would have ever known."
Freddie laughs. "Nobody's perfect." She looks at her watch and says, "Come on. Let's go to the gym. Metzler's out running and won't be back for a while."
Inside the gym, Freddie starts her routine with a few minutes of beating the sandbag. Newkirk holds the bag as she blasts away at it.
"I'm glad I'm not on the receivin' end of those fists," he says, grinning.
"Would you like me to change that?" she says with a smile.
"No!" He backs away for the bag and waves her over to the mat. "Here, let's work on your upper body. Lemme see you do 20 push-ups."
"Alright," she says. Freddie gets down into position and begins.
"Count 'em out," barks Newkirk. "Lemme hear 'em."
"Eins... zwei... drei... vier... funf... sechs... sieben... acht... neun... zehn..." By the time she counts to 5, Newkirk realizes that she's marking them in German but lets her finish anyway.
"Count the next ten in English, please." says Newkirk with a smile. "I'd like to follow along." She laughs as she stands up and shakes out her arms. "Hang on a minute," he says. "Or how you'd say it in German, 'Eine minuten, bitte'-"
Freddie laughs as Newkirk tries to speak his first words of German without help. "Hang on a minute is 'Wart mal, einen Augenblick." She stands at attention in front of him. "Ja, mein herr. Was ist los (Yes sir. What's wrong)?"
"Uh, right. I said do 20 push-ups, not 10."
"You do them with me. I got a thing about corporals givin' me orders." Newkirk grins slowly, takes off his sweater, and gets down on the floor. Just as he's about ready to do the first one, she says, "No, no. I'll do the work. Here, lemme show you." He's not sure what she's going to do, but he listens anyway. Freddie lays on her back and motions for him to lay on top of her. "Here, get on top of me. Put your arms behind your back." He lays on her, folds both arms behind his body, leaving him no choice but to let his body turn into dead weight on her chest. She grabs onto his shoulders. "Anchor your toes. Good. Ok, now stiffen up your body, like a board. That's it. Are you ready?"
"I guess so."
"Ok. Gimme a kiss first." He kisses her quickly and suddenly finds himself being pushed up and off of her chest, then let back down again. "Eleven," she says. He's surprised by her upper body power. Every time she brings him back down, she kisses him before lifting him again. "Twelve..."
"I've never seen push-ups done like this before," he says.
"No? Thirteen... fourteen..." She looks him in the eyes every time she lowers him down. As Freddie gets a kiss and sets up for fifteen, she stops lifting him and wraps her arms around his waist and holds him close. "You like this technique?"
"Uh huh."
"Do you want me to continue?"
Newkirk thinks for a moment, then says, "Forget the 20 push-ups. Just give me 20 minutes." He doesn't even wait for an answer as he kisses her deep and slow, and slides his arms under her shoulders, his fingers running through her hair.
"Is 20 minutes going to be enough time?" asks Freddie.
"Plenty." He slowly licks her neck as she rubs his back.
"Kommandant," asks Hogan, "I want your word that Sgt. Metzler won't permanently injure Freddie."
"I give you my word, Hogan," answers Klink. "But I'm not the one she'll be wrestling, so ask Sgt. Metzler."
"Alright. Where is she?"
Klink picks up his phone. "Fraulein Hilde, please send in Sgt. Metzler." A moment later the door opens, and the sergeant walks in.
"You sent for me, herr Colonel?" Hogan turns to face Metzler and immediately a knot forms in his throat. This is the first opportunity he's had to see her up close.
Swallowing hard, Hogan says, "Kommandant, I protest. I will not let Sgt. Milworth wrestle Sgt. Metzler."
"Herr Colonel, who is this man?"
Hogan says, "Colonel Robert Hogan, senior POW officer. And I refuse to let Freddie be a part of your Nazi freakshow."
Klink tries to stop any trouble from starting. "Uh, Hogan-"
Metzler is a little annoyed with the American officer. "Why?"
Hogan, stepping a little closer to her, says sternly, "Because with a build like yours, you've gotta be a man. And I won't let a sweet girl like Freddie get pancaked by a guy like you."
Klink covers his eyes. "Oh, here we go..."
"This is an outrage!" yells Metzler. "Colonel Klink, I demand that the match be moved up one day early." Looking at Hogan, she says, "That will teach you to insult a woman of the Third Reich."
"You're not a woman," says Hogan, pointing an angry finger at her, "you're a science experiment. And it's gone terribly wrong." He leaves Klink's office in a very agitated mood.
"Tomorrow?" asks Carter. The Heroes can't believe Metzler's demands for the match. Sitting around the table in barracks #2, they share their concerns.
"I don't think I'll be ready, Colonel," says Freddie. "I still have stitches in my hands and my fingers are just starting to scab over."
Hogan sets a hand on her shoulder. "You'll have to be as ready as you can. Kinch used to be a boxer, so he can wrap your hands to protect your stitches."
"Filthy krauts," says an angry LeBeau. "They have no respect at all. Don't they understand that one of them could get hurt badly, or worse?"
"Well, there is a war on," says Newkirk, sarcastically.
"And Metzler wants to start a battle right here," says Freddie. "She already wants to take Peter as her prisoner. God, I've never had so much ridin' on my shoulders before." Newkirk slides next to her and puts his head on her shoulder and his arm around her.
"What do you mean?" asks Kinchloe.
"Metzler made Peter an 'indecent proposal' the other night," she continues. "She said she'd go easy on me if he... engaged in certain activities with her."
"My God," says Hogan, angrily throwing his hat on the table. "Are you kidding?"
"No, sir," says Newkirk. "We both figure she'd kill Freddie anyway, even if I did go take her up on her offer."
"That's the sickest thing I've ever heard!" says Carter. "I oughta plant a stick of dynamite up her-"
"No, Andrew," says Freddie. "If anyone's gonna kill Metzler, it's gonna be me. Nobody makes moves on Peter and lives to brag about it." She gets up from the table and walks over to the stove.
"Freddie," says Hogan, "I know you're angry about her moving in on Newkirk, but I don't think killing Metzler is a good idea. If push comes to shove, then you can use deadly force."
She sighs. "Yes sir." Someone knocks at the door. Carter opens it and in walks General von Hauser and his escort, Schultz.
"Whatdya want, general?" asks Hogan.
"I was told that Sgt. Milworth would be here."
Freddie leaves the stove. "Here I am." A small smile sits on von Hauser's face as he hands her a white gift box.
"A gift from Sgt. Metzler. She wants you to wear it during your competition tomorrow." Freddie looks at the fellows as she opens the box and pulls out a white athletic tanktop. She looks at it carefully, turning it around to find a small Nazi banner on the front. Freddie's face flushes with anger. "From one German to another," he says.
"If this had the German tri-colors on it, I'd wear it," Freddie says as she tosses it back in von Hauser's face. "Tell her to take it back. I don't look good in swastikas." The general takes one step towards Freddie which prompts Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinchloe to stand up. Von Hauser backs down and steps back and leaves in a huff without taking the shirt with him.
"How 'bout that," she says. "He didn't even take his door prize."
"Don't worry, love," says Newkirk as he picks up the shirt. "I'll rip that twisted cross off and sew a Union Jack on it for ya."
She lovingly strokes his arm. "Thanks, Peter." He waits for the other Heroes to go about their business before he moves in on her again.
"Now," he says, "if we could go someplace private, I can get your measurements." She playfully swats his arm and jabs his stomach.
"I thought you had my measurements engraved on your brain," she whispers.
"I do," he whispers with a sly smile. "But this was for a backup engraving." She smiles and motions him closer to her.
"I'm a 36 in the, uh, upper chest area," she says. Newkirk grins and looks at her bust.
"I'm jealous of this shirt."
Saturday, 1320 hours. Ten minutes until fight time.
Freddie nervously paces in her barracks as Hogan enters to escort her to the ring.
"All set?" he asks with a small smile. "Newkirk finished your shirt." He holds it up and shows her the red, white, and blue patch freshly sewn in the center of the chest. "He finished it before he came over here." She smiles as she takes the shirt.
"Over where?" asks Freddie as she changes into the shirt.
"Here. He said he was coming over to see you."
Freddie's gaze turns serious. "Sir, I haven't seen him yet today." Hogan opens his eyes wider.
"You haven't?" Freddie shakes her head. Hogan looks Freddie in the eyes as if to pick her brains about where he could be. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I think so, sir." She bangs her fist down on the table. "Damn that Metzler! What could they have done with him?"
"I don't know." He hands Freddie her uniform shirt. "Go over to our barracks and have Kinch and Carter escort you to the ring. LeBeau and I will find him."
"Sir, let me go with-"
"No. You've got enough to deal with. And your biggest obstacle is standing in the ring waiting to eat you alive." He puts both hands on her shoulders and squeezes gently. He looks into her scared and angry eyes and says, "Don't worry. We'll find him."
Freddie sighs. "Yes sir." She grabs her coat and leaves the bunkhouse. Hogan waits for her to leave before he exits.
"Those lousy sons a-bitches."
Klink steps into the ring to deliver the opening announcements. "Attention, please! This match is sanctioned by the Minister of Propaganda, strictly for the entertainment of the brave fighting men of the glorious Third Reich."
As he loosens up Freddie's shoulders, Carter says, "Now remember, don't hit below the belt."
"Andrew," says Kinchloe, "she's going to wrestle Metzler, not box."
"Oh. Well, then break her leg off."
She giggles. "And I'll beat her over the head with it."
Meanwhile, outside barracks #2, Hogan and LeBeau plan their search and recovery effort.
"Alright," says Hogan, "I'll look in the motorpool, you check the rec and mess halls. There's no telling where they've put him, so look everywhere. If you find him, free him as quick as you can and get him over to the ring. I have an idea that Freddie isn't exactly concentrating on herself right now."
"Oui, Colonel." LeBeau heads quickly over to the mess hall, sneaking around the throng of guards that stand in his path. Hogan looks around as he opens the door to the motorpool and goes in.
"Newkirk?" calls Hogan. He stands silent to hear for anything that could be a signal for help. Nothing. He hurries over to the shed and opens it. Nobody home. "Damn it."
LeBeau was having the same luck in the rec hall. He crawls around and looks under the tables, even looking in the storage locker. Disappointed, he leaves the hall and stands outside. He looks across the yard and sees Hogan looking back at him. LeBeau shakes his head no, only to see Hogan answer with the same gesture. Leaning back against the building, the Frenchman glances over at the cooler and gets an idea. He looks at Hogan and swipes his right hand across his chest from his left shoulder to his right, giving the silent signal for the cooler. Hogan answers with an affirmative shake of the head and waves him over.
Back in the ring, Freddie is holding her own, but not for much longer. Metzler is just too big to knock down.
"Come on Freddie!" shouts Carter. Hearing his cheers as well as those from the other prisoners, she charges at the German monstrosity again, spearing her shoulder into Metzler's stomach. Unfortunately, Metzler counters by using Freddie's energy against her and falls backwards, wrapping her legs around her mid-section and squeezes her like a vice. Metzler laughs at Freddie as she howls in pain. All of the sudden, Freddie hears a snapping sound, followed by another. The noises are succeeded by a severe burning sensation in her abdomen; her ribs have been broken. Metzler throws Freddie aside and stands up to face the crowd. The guards all cheer and whistle as the prisoners hiss and shout obscenities. Freddie is still on her knees, bent over and clutching her ribs.
"Come on Freddie!" shouts Kinchloe. "Hang in there! You can do it!" She raises her head to look at him, but Metzler grabs her by the shoulders and brings her to her feet.
"You are not even trying," says the evil sergeant. "I thought you were going to send me to the hospital."
"The fight's not over," says Freddie through closed teeth.
Metzler smiles. "Such a stubborn girl." She grabs Freddie by the hair and punches her in the face until she starts moving backwards. The giant Metzler shoves her out of the ring where she falls about two and a half feet to the dirt below. Kinch and Carter rush over to help her.
"Freddie, maybe you better quit," says Carter.
"...Nein..."
"He's right," says Kinchloe. "She's not going to stop until you fall over dead."
"Ich gebe auf nicht (I won't give up)!"
Kinchloe turns to Carter. "What'd she say?"
"I don't know!" The two guys help her back into the ring and watch in horror as Metzler performs an abdominal stretch on their injured friend. Carter runs back ringside and tries to get at Metzler, but he's stopped and pushed away by a couple of guards.
Inside the cooler, Hogan and LeBeau look around for Newkirk.
"Where could he be, Colonel?" asks LeBeau as he searches an empty cell.
Hogan looks defeated. "I don't know. But we're running out of time. Come on." As they round the corner of the building on their way back to the ring, Hogan sees something laying on the ground a few feet in front of them. As they get closer to the object, they both see that it's Newkirk's blue garrison cap.
"We might be on to something, LeBeau," says Hogan, bending down to pick up the hat. "Newkirk wouldn't toss his hat anywhere, he knows better than that."
"What do you think happened?"
"I have a pretty good hunch that he was taken by force. Remember how he and Freddie said last night that Metzler made an rather interesting request?"
"Yes."
"I have an idea that Metzler wants Newkirk real bad. Bad enough to kidnap him." Just then the crowd makes a loud, collective 'whoooa' sound. "We better hurry."
Hogan and LeBeau sneak behind one of the barracks to avoid detection. Quickly and carefully, they both creep over to General von Hauser's staff car and peek in. Newkirk is inside, his eyes closed, slumped in the corner with his hands tied behind his back. Hogan is clearly angered.
"Those bastards got him hog-tied and ready for a fast getaway. Let's get him out of there," he orders. He opens the door and LeBeau hops in to untie his hands. He sees a little patch of dried blood in Newkirk's hair.
"He's alive, but he's been hit in the head," says LeBeau. He shakes his friend. "Newkirk, Newkirk, wake up! We need to help Freddie." The Frenchman's nimble little fingers work the knots loose quickly, then go back to shaking his unconscious comrade.
"Newkirk, Freddie's in trouble. You've got to wake up and help her," pleads Hogan. "She needs you." Newkirk still doesn't move. He looks at LeBeau and makes another decision. "Alright, help me get him out of here." Hogan reaches in and grabs Newkirk's ankles as LeBeau reaches under his arms and slowly eases his limp body out of the car. They set him on his back and try to revive him again. Suddenly Newkirk stirs.
"Nnnrrrnngg..."
"Newkirk, wake up," says Hogan, "Freddie's in deep trouble. Metzler's torturing her in that ring. You've got to get over there and help her!" He and LeBeau help him sit up.
"What happened to me?" asks Newkirk.
LeBeau becomes mildly hysterical. "Freddie's in trouble! Get over to the ring and help her!"
Rubbing his head, Newkirk remembers that the match is going on. He asks frantically, "Oh, God. How is she?"
"Horrible," says Hogan. "But I think if she sees you, she might be able to come around." The Englishman's eyes light up at the thoughts of his lady love in trouble.
"Help me up, will ya? I'm not goin' to let her down this time." LeBeau and Hogan pick him up and help him hurry over to the ring.
Laying stretched out on her back, Freddie waits for the end to come at any moment. Her body has taken a terrible beating; her lip is split in two places, she has multiple cuts over her eyes, blood is flowing from both nostrils, and her face is severely scratched. The stitches in both hands have ripped open and started bleeding as the burning in her mid-section intensifies. Metzler stands over her, looks down, and smiles.
"Living in Great Britain has softened you," she says. "You give up too easily. If you had remained in the Fatherland, you would be as strong as Krupp steel."
"...Leck mich am Arsch (Fuck you)..."
Metzler laughs loudly. "I'll let Peter do that. I know he wants to." She raises her fist above her head and-
"Show 'er how a real German fights, Freddie!!"
Metzler stops and looks out in the crowd to see where the voice came from. Her eyes open wide as she sees Newkirk standing by the far side of the ring. While she's gaping in shock over his escape, she momentarily forgets about Freddie, who also sees Newkirk.
"Peter," mumbles Freddie, with a small amount of happiness and relief in her voice.
"Come on, Freddie," he shouts, "get up and show 'er how tough you are!" The prisoners take that as their cue to shout as well, yelling for her to get up and let Metzler have it. Hearing their encouragement, Freddie lets their chants stoke the fires of anger and revenge. Her rational mind shuts down as survival mode kicks in, bypassing any physical pain she feels. Freddie's hands reach up and grab a hold of Metzler's throat.
"You tried to keep Peter from me, but Colonel Hogan found him," says Freddie, her eyes almost glowing red. "For that..."- Freddie pulls her closer- "du wirst sterben (you'll die)!" Freddie pulls Metzler's head down, kicks her legs out from under her, and drives her face into the ring floor. Giving her no time to recover, Freddie jumps on Metzler and begins to pummel her fiercely.
"Yeah, Freddie!" shouts Newkirk, now standing on his own and banging his fist on the ring mat. "Give it to 'er good!" He is soon joined by Kinchloe, Carter, and LeBeau. Hogan, who's standing by, throws a glance to the stands where all the top local High Command officials are sitting. They are all pointing at the ring and discussing the action. This draws a smile to Hogan's face.
Turning his attention back to the ring, Hogan sees Metzler toss Freddie into the corner, where she stays on the mat as Newkirk runs over to her.
"Peter," she says, looking at him and reaching out to his injured face, "are you alright?"
Newkirk takes her hands and squeezes them as he looks at the sweet face he hardly recognizes. "Nevermind me, darlin'. Just concentrate on the fight." The words are no more than out of his mouth when Metzler reaches down and picks Freddie up, but she's ready for her. She quickly buries her knee into Metzler's abdomen and as she bends over in pain, Freddie grabs her by the wrist and puts her forearm in a hammerlock. Metzler struggles to free herself as she screams in pain. In desperation, she starts slugging Freddie in the face. This only adds to Freddie's fury, and she puts more pressure on Metzler's arm until it snaps. But her punishment won't end there. She twists her arm to make sure it's completely separated and almost pulls the bone through the skin. Freddie lets her go and kicks her in the stomach, then smashes both of her fists on the back of her neck, dropping her completely to the mat.
"Stehen Sie auf (Get up)!" Freddie shouts. "Stehen Sie auf, du Feigling (Get up, you coward)!" She starts stomping and kicking her, drawing bigger shouts and cheers from the prisoners. Freddie's almost to the point where she wants to inflict death. She grabs the ring ropes for balance and steps on Metzler's throat with one foot and stomps on her face with the other. Freddie is now consumed by the flames of rage as her entire body goes numb. She watches as Metzler's face turns bright red as she struggles for breath, but she won't relent. Metzler's desperately tugging at Freddie's boot for some relief.
"I want you to suffer!" shouts Freddie. "Just like my mother suffered! Feel Death's icy hands take you... and drop you into Hell!!" Metzler's eyes are almost ready to pop out of her skull as her vision blurs and become cloudy, her hands still tugging at her foot but losing strength. Freddie becomes lost in her anger and starts laughing as her opponent slowly loses consciousness. Hogan and the other Heroes watch in horror as their friend slowly goes insane.
"Get her out of there," says Hogan. "She's going over the edge." Kinchloe, Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau all climb into the ring and pull Freddie off of Metzler. LeBeau gets in front of her and tries to push her backwards, being careful of her ribs.
"Stop it! Lemme go!" she shouts, "I haven't finished her yet!" She struggles against the four men as the prisoners boo. Kinchloe gets behind her and puts his arm around her neck as Carter and Newkirk hold her arms. Freddie pulls her arm away from Carter and tries to go over the top of LeBeau. Newkirk grabs her chin and forces her to look at him.
"Freddie! Stop!" he shouts. Her eyes leave his face as she continues to struggle against them. Newkirk knows of only one way to reach her; speak to her in German. "He Sie (Hey you)!" Her eyes go back to his and become locked in his gaze. "Freddie, halt! Beruhigen Sie sich, mein liebe (Freddie, stop it! Calm down, love)!" She slowly starts to cease her struggling as she hears him speak to her in her native tongue. "Man ist zu Ende. Du hast gewonnen (It's over. You won)." Newkirk can see in her eyes that she is starting to return to her old self as the pain starts to set in.
"Man wird ist uber nicht (It'll never be over)," she whimpers through the pain. "Fur mich nicht (Not for me)." As soon as the words leave her lips, her tired body collapses in their arms. The Heroes pick her up and carry her out of the ring. Hogan looks at her when they bring her off of the apron.
"Take her to her barracks. I'll get a medic." He strokes her sweaty, blood-stained hair. "Poor kid." He darts off while the men carry her to hut #4.
Inside the barracks, the men lay Freddie down on a bunk and wait for Hogan to return with the medic. She clutches her ribs in pain and moans in agony. Newkirk sits next to her and starts cleaning her face.
"Hang in there, love. Colonel Hogan'll be right back." He can see how much pain she's in simply by watching her face constrict. He strokes her arm in reassurance, but still feels helpless and angry. Hogan returns with Cpl. Miller from barracks #1.
"Alright, fellas," says Hogan, "back off for a minute." Newkirk stands and lets Miller sit down next to Freddie.
"Ok, sweetheart," soothes Miller, "tell me where it hurts."
Still in extreme pain, Freddie looks at him and says, "The bitch broke my ribs." This draws a small laugh from Miller, Hogan, and the Heroes.
"Well," assures Miller, "at least your sense of humor still works." He carefully feels around her abdomen to determine which ribs are broken and which are cracked. All of the sudden, she jumps and yelps. "Ok, I think I found them." He pulls a thick gauze wrap from his bag, lifts up her shirt, and starts to wrap her mid-section. "You'll need to have your belly braced for about 6 weeks. After you shower next week, you'll have to be rewrapped."
"Alright," she says.
"Unfortunately, I don't have any painkillers to give you-"
"That's ok," says Carter. "I'll make you some, Freddie."
Freddie smiles. "Thanks, Andrew."
Miller looks at her bloodied hands. "Now," he says, "lemme stitch up your meat hooks." As Miller gets his equipment out, LeBeau sits down on the other side of the bed to aide Miller. Sgt. Lincoln from barracks #5 comes over to deliver the judges decision on the match.
"Colonel Hogan, an ambulance just came and picked up Metzler, but the judges declared her the winner by default!" This stirs Freddie's anger again and she sits up.
"They what?" she yells. Miller and LeBeau push her back down and continue stitching her hands.
"Did anyone ever tell you, Lincoln," says Kinchloe, "that you've got rotten timing?"
"Thanks, Lincoln," says Hogan. He walks over to Freddie's bunk and looks over Miller's shoulder. "How is she?"
"She's gonna be fine, Colonel," he says. "Just as long as she gives up boxing." He smiles at Freddie and pats her on the arm.
"Thanks," she says. Miller gathers up his things and leaves the hut. "So," she says, "what did you chaps do for fun today?" She watches as the guys all smile and chuckle.
"We watched you get your ass kicked," says Kinchloe with a laugh. "In all honesty, you didn't do too bad out there, Freddie. You did your best."
"Thanks, Kinch."
Hogan rounds up the guys and heads for the door. "Newkirk's a lucky guy. Not every woman would be eager to defend a man's honor." Newkirk looks at his feet and smiles.
"Thank you, sir," says Newkirk.
"Come on, fellas," says Hogan. "Freddie needs to rest." As they pass her bed, they wave. Newkirk stays behind with her. She looks at him as he leans on her bunkpost and gazes lovingly down at her.
"Kommen Sie her, Peter (Come here, Peter)," she says. He smiles as he sits down on the edge of her bed. She takes his hand in hers and smiles. "Have you been studyin' German behind my back?"
Newkirk grins. "Yes, sergeant. I've been reading Kinch's German phrase book quite regularly."
"Keep readin' it. You're beginnin' to speak it rather well." They continue to stare at one another as she pulls him gently down beside her. "Looks like you took a good whack to the head," she says as she pulls some of the dried blood from his hair. "What happened to you?"
"I was intercepted by two of Metzler's goons. One of 'em cracked a rifle stock over me head. I was out cold until Colonel Hogan and LeBeau rescued me. Trapped in von Hauser's car."
"Oh, I'd like to get my hands on her again-"
"No, no, no," he coos as he touches her forehead. "You've done enough damage to her for one day. She didn't look too good when they pulled her from the ring."
"Good."
Newkirk moves himself closer to her face. "Then again, she never looked that good to begin with." He makes a silly face that gets a laugh out of Freddie. When the laughter subsides, they look deep and long into each other's eyes.
"Fredricha," he says, "you are an incredible woman."
"What makes you say that?"
"Today I saw you at your toughest and strongest. And, for the first time, I saw a physical manifestation of all the pain and anguish you've been keepin' inside you. I finally saw what hate and pain can do to someone. And it frightened me."
She looks at his handsome young face. "My sweet, gentle Englishman. Please don't be afraid of me. Please. I'm tryin' real hard to put myself back together. At a time like this, I need to know that you'll be here for me." He takes her hands carefully in his and holds them.
"I will always be here for you, my love. No question." Newkirk kisses her wrapped hands gently. "It isn't you that I'm frightened of, love. It's all those feelings of hate that have turned to poison inside of you that scares me. I saw what they looked like, and how they transformed a beautiful lady like you into a human monster on a crash-course with destruction."
She looks at his hands, then to his face. "Peter... I didn't want to show anyone, especially you, my bad side. But I did. I can't apologize enough. Please say you'll... forgive me."
He lays one arm across her chest and strokes her face with the other. "Freddie, what kind of a man would I be if I denied you forgiveness?" He leans down and kisses her forehead. "I love you."
"I love you, too." They smile at each other as he gently rubs his hand down her cheek. "Will you stay with me for a while?" she asks.
Newkirk grins happily. "I'll stay with you forever." Freddie smiles back as he snuggles in next to her and runs his hand through her hair. He lays his head near hers and whispers in her ear, "Thank you."
"Thank you?" she asks. "For what? I've done nothing."
"Yes you did. You defended my honor like Colonel Hogan said. No other girl I've ever known would have done that for me. But, then again, you're no ordinary girl."
Freddie laughs a little. "I'm not?"
"No," answers Newkirk. "You're an angel sent by God to watch over me." Freddie turns onto her side as much as she can without hurting herself.
"Oh, Peter..." she says as she kisses him. "You know that there's nothin' I wouldn't do for you."
"All I want you to do is love me for the rest of your life," he whispers. Freddie smiles and touches his lips.
"I will." Newkirk puts an arm under her head and carefully pulls her into him. They share a sweet kiss, then Freddie puts her head down on his chest.
"Rest easily, love. No one will hurt you now, for you're safe here in my arms." Newkirk can feel her body relax as he continues to caress her hair. He leans close to her ear and whispers slowly, "I love you... I love you... I love you..." He watches her chest rise and fall as she drifts into that place of comfortable sleep. He finds his eyes getting heavy, so he closes them and soon joins Freddie in the peaceful realm of slumber.