Mission Five: Chapter 13 - “And anyway – I’m rich right? How can things not get better?”

Hannibal let out a long sigh and tried to will himself to relax. He was back in his own bed, he was clean and warm and well fed. His injuries were superficial and the medics back at base had patched him up and sent him home. He had everything he needed right? Wanted for nothing. So, why couldn’t he sleep? Why was he wound as tight as a watch spring? He looked over at the huge empty space in the bed beside him and knew exactly why.  

 

The mission had been an unmitigated disaster. Not only had they failed to find get the information as to who had reopened the sale of illegal weapons into the US from Russia, but then Hannibal had walked straight into a plan for revenge cooked up by one of the most unstable minds in modern day Russia, and now they had returned home without Face.

 

Russ had come to the medical centre to see Hannibal as soon as they had landed, and to say he was upset was putting it mildly. Seems that the team had not been so good at keeping in touch after Hannibal had been taken, so Russ had had no idea what the hell had been going on. He was also none too thrilled that the arms leak hadn’t been plugged either, and then add to that the fact that Face had remained behind after the end of the mission and the two men had had rather a few harsh words. In the end Hannibal had talked him round, had persuaded him not to list Face as AWOL and had convinced him that the long silence from the team had been due to technical difficulties and not down to the fact that Face knew damn well if he reported in what had happened to Hannibal he would have been ordered straight home and forced to leave the boss behind. Hannibal knew that Face would never, ever have followed that order.

 

But, and here was another thing that was nagging at Hannibal, he and the team had left without Face. Yes, he knew that the circumstances were different, that Face had been free to make his own choices, but still, they’d left him in an unstable country with six minors in his care and no one to watch his back. So what the hell was all that about?

 

Hannibal lifted his arm and idly stroked the scabbed flesh around his wrists as he wondered, not for the first time, just what the hell had gone on with the team while he’d been in Barsukov’s care. He’d hardly seen Face and BA pass two sentences together since he’d been released, but the tension between them was obvious, maybe not quite as obvious as the downright hostility that was floating around between Murdock and BA, but there none the less. And something was off with Face, very off and Hannibal had an uncomfortable thought that he knew exactly what that ‘something’ was. His face flushed in humiliation as he thought about how, distant Face had been since he’d smashed down the door of that damn attic. He was trying to hide something from Hannibal, that much was obvious, and there was only one thought that Hannibal could think he would go to all the effort of keeping secret... And if he was right, then it was no surprise that Face couldn’t stand being with him just now.

 

When it came down to it, that’s why Hannibal had left him behind. If he had something on his mind, something he needed to sort out, then, as much as it pained him to do it, Hannibal would let him have that time. Anything was better than having Face keep him at arm’s length, not meet his eyes, think those thoughts about him... He shook his head, trying to clear the rising panic from his thoughts. He shouldn’t have left Face alone like that. What if the kid was injured, captured, fell ill? And what if... Hannibal swallowed hard... what if he just decided not to come home at all...

 

He doubted whether Face would ever, truly understand the hold he had over his CO, the importance he held in his life. Whatever Face needed, wanted, desired... Hannibal would move heaven and earth to give him. It may not be the healthiest basis for a relationship, but Face was Hannibal’s entire world; without him he was nothing. And the crazy thing was, the kid just didn’t get that, was still completely oblivious about his place in Hannibal’s life. Utterly crazy.

 

With a long sigh, Hannibal flicked the bedside lamp off and lay back, forcing his eyes to close. This was getting him nowhere, he needed to sleep, he needed to get life back on an even keel with his fledgling team. When Face got back, he would talk to the kid. He would be calm and rational and not let his heart rule his head. Face would come back and they would sort this whole mess out, it would only be a couple of days after all.

 

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It was, in fact, eleven very long days before Face finally pulled his hire car up in front of the house he and Hannibal shared back in the states. He was absolutely exhausted. In the last forty hours he had flown from Vladivostok into Seoul, Seoul to JFK and finally JFK into Atlanta before having to drive the one and a half hours it took to get home. The only saving grace was that it was just after 11pm when he let himself in through the front door, and that meant he could finally just go to bed and stand some chance of being able to get his body clock back in synch.    

 

The hallway was in darkness and he frowned, wondering if Hannibal was out. He’d not told anyone he was on his way back; in fact he hadn’t spoken to them at all after they’d driven off in Magadan. Partly it was because he was simply hiding from them, wanting to conceal this new person he’d become and the things that that person did, but partly it was because he was just too damn busy.

 

They’d left Magadan an hour after Hannibal. It hadn’t taken long for the kids to pack up the meagre possessions they had and took Face even less time to drop the incriminating contents of Barsukov’s safe in at the local Militsya. Then they needed to do what Face had considered the most dangerous part of the journey, and travel back to the docks to pick up the cargo ship that was going to take them to Vladivostok. Fortunately the Orion had long gone, but that had not stopped Anya from shaking with fright and clinging onto Face again for at least the first twelve hours of the three day journey.

 

The journey had been hard. With the exception of Anya, the children thought they were on a three day holiday cruise and Face had his work well and truly cut out for him trying to keep them all safe on the long, long sailing. Needless to say, sleep was a little known luxury for him. They had eventually arrived in Vladivostok and, too exhausted to do anything apart from check them into a hotel, Face eventually collapsed in much needed sleep. Fortunately, the cable television in the bedrooms acted as a passable substitute childminder which meant Face could have just enough sleep to enable him to function as a human once more.

 

Then he was up and off again, using the hotel’s internet suite to sort out some loose ties concerning Barsukov, and finding that one special place that he’d heard rumours of in Magadan, the one place he had dragged six street kids fifteen hundred miles to find.

 

He’d worked hard. Eight solid days of very little sleep, wheeling and dealing, investing Barsukov’s ill gotten gains, charming the pants off Russian charity workers, setting up water tight trust funds, long distance calls back to LA, bribing Russian officials left right and centre, talking and talking to Sasha, until it was all sorted. Eventually, just as the sun set on the eighth day, Face delivered a faxed document from Father Thomas Hall of the Angel Guardian’s orphanage, LA, newly appointed legal guardian of Sasha and Anya Osokin, Foma and Ilia Panin, Dimi Grechko and Georgiy Tsaplin, signing their immediate care over to the ‘Raduga Derevnya’(Rainbow Village) Orphanage, Vladivostok. The younger children were ecstatic at the thought of their new home with cable television (Dimi), a playground (Georgiy), football pitch (Ilia), Playstation (Foma) and pet donkey (Anya). While Sasha just looked relieved to not have the pressure of all those lives on his shoulders anymore.

 

Just as Face was preparing to leave on the morning of the ninth day, he and Sasha had sat up on the hill looking down at the rambling spread of buildings that made up Raduga Derevnya below them, and the sea spreading out into the distance, all the way to the US, in front of them.

 

“I still can’t understand why you wouldn’t be our guardian...” Sasha had muttered mutinously as Face yanked up handfuls of grass with his fingers.

 

Face sighed, “I told you kid, I’m a soldier, I disappear for long stretches, you’d never be able to get to me in a hurry.” Sasha remained stubbornly silent. “Doesn’t mean I won’t be in touch with you though. Doesn’t mean you can’t ever be in touch with me. But Father Thomas is a good guy, and he’s right at the end of a phone for you whenever you want. You ever decide you don’t want to be here anymore, then he’ll get in touch with me and we’ll sort it out. I promised you that.”

 

Silence fell again as Face continued to worry the grass and Sasha continued to scowl.

 

“It looks good though, so far, yeah?” the apprehension in Face’s voice was obvious to anyone who knew him, and Sasha let out a sigh as he relented a little.    

 

“Yeah, Face, it looks good.” Face leaned forward a little to look at the boy’s expression and Sasha allowed himself to smile. “Really good. Now stop staring!”

 

With a relieved smile Face leaned back and pulled a long grass stalk into his mouth as he rested on his elbows gazing at the distant horizon, wondering what it would have been like if Sasha and the others had decided they wanted to come into the US with him after all. Wondering if he would have been able to pull it off, wondering just how much he would have given up to make life good for them. Wondering if he could ever have managed it...

 

“You going now?” Sasha had eventually asked, the tension clear in his voice.

 

Face had taken the grass from his mouth and sat up, twisting his body to look right into Sasha’s eyes, “Five minutes... need to get to the airport.”

 

Sasha had nodded but not looked away, “You seeing the others?”

 

Face shook his head, smiling sadly, “No, buddy, I’m not that good at goodbyes, really.”

 

“But you came to see me.”

 

Face’s voice was low and intense, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

A long, silent, moment passed before Sasha cracked a half smile at him, “I’m fine now, and I will be great. This is so much better than anything we’ve had before.” Face nodded thoughtfully at him and eventually Sasha’s smile bloomed into something bigger and more honest, “And anyway – I’m rich right? How can things not get better?”

 

Face laughed as he climbed to his feet, “You’re not rich yet, Sasha, eighteen is a long way off, and Father Thomas won’t let you spend all that money on loose women and fast cars even when you are old enough.”

 

Sasha’s laugh joined his own as the boy scrambled to his feet to stand at Face’s side, both still looking out at the sea.

 

Once again, silence fell, and Face tried to swallow around the sudden tightness of his throat. It was absolutely true what he had said to Sasha; he wasn’t that good at goodbyes at all, despite all the practise he’d had... He took a deep breath and steeled himself, turning to Sasha and extending his hand, “Well, kid, this is it then, time for me to head off.”

 

Sasha’s serious grey eyes dropped to the extended hand and he stared at it for so long, that Face began to pull back, heat staining his cheeks and his words jammed tight in his throat. It was at that point Sasha moved, throwing himself at Face, reaching up to wrap his arms tightly around his neck, pressing a quick firm, kiss to Face’s stubbled cheek, before, just as suddenly, wrenching away and disappearing into the trees at a jog.

 

Face stood, starring after him, his vision strangely blurred until he heard the beeping of his taxi’s horn down in the parking lot below him.

 

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Dropping his kit bag at the door, Face let himself sag against the wall, thoughts of that final meeting with Sasha sapping the last of his strength, but almost leaping out of his skin as the door from the kitchen swung open, bathing him in a triangle of warm orange light.

 

He squinted and threw an arm up to shield his eyes, just as BA killed the light and grumbled a quiet apology, “Hey, sorry, man, I never heard you come in.”

 

Face just nodded and dropped his arm again; eyes flicking to the two plates of bacon sandwiches piled one on top of each other in one of BA’s huge hands.

 

An awkward silence fell as BA shifted uncomfortably in the doorway and Face tried to dredge up enough strength to haul himself into the shower.

 

“What you doing here?” he eventually asked, just as BA said, “You get them kids sorted?”

 

The awkwardness just seemed to intensify and Face wondered if this was part of this new person that he had become, all this social ineptitude. “Yeah, sorted,” he answered, quietly, hoping to god it was true.

 

BA nodded and remembered Face’s question, “Good. Well, me and crazy been stayin’ here, keepin’ the boss company you know, jus’ ‘til you got back.”

 

This time Face nodded as he pulled himself up off the wall and turned for the stairs, well, that made sense; as did Murdock and BA sharing the downstairs guest room which they obviously were.

 

“Hey,” BA’s quiet voice pulled him back and Face stopped on the bottom step, turning slightly to look at the corporal over his shoulder. “I was wrong, man,” BA’s voice was rough, “For what I said on that op, for the way I acted.”

 

Letting out a long breath Face turned back up the stairs, he really didn’t have the energy for this at all now and wondered if it had been Murdock or Hannibal who had busted BA’s chops over his behaviour towards Face. “Okay,” he said simply and started hauling his aching muscles up the steps, almost feeling the heat of his impending shower on his shoulder blades.

 

 

He heard the step of BA following him, “Face...” but he kept on walking, straight into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him and sliding the bolt into place.

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