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Face opened his eyes to a blinding headache and the sight of dappled sunshine flitting through the trees above him. He lay still for a moment, too wise of the world he lived in to move without first working out where he was, who was with him, and then it all came back. With the force of that damn stupid freight train, the events of the early morning arrived back into his brain and Face sat up, nausea threatening him and his hand on his head, trying to hold back the waves of agony.
Instantly Murdock was beside him, gripping his arm as he swayed, one hand on his cheek helping to steady his head. “Hey, take it easy, buddy, you’re okay, just lie back down. You’re okay.”
Murdock’s voice washed over him like a warm bath and he let himself be lowered back down, feeling the relative softness of a pack beneath his head, the heat of a space blanket as it was pulled back up to his chin and he forced his blurry eyes to focus on the Captain’s concerned ones. “What the fuck?” he mumbled, fingers poking at the dressing on his head, embarrassed that his mouth struggled to form the words.
“The bullet ricocheted off one of the train’s wheels,” Murdock told him gently, “It only just nicked you though, another inch over and it would have ventilated your brain, bud.”
Face sighed. He’d known that was a chance when he’d lined his shot up, the wheels were just moving too fast to gage when he was clear to pull the trigger. But it was a risk worth taking in his eyes. “Hannibal?” he murmured. Of course he knew, but he just had to ask.
Murdock stroked cold fingers down his cheek, “I’m sorry Face, by the time the train had gone, they were well out of sight. BA has gone after them, he’s gonna try to see where the road goes and double back in a bit to let us know.”
“On foot?”
Murdock chuckled, “Still no flying reindeer.”
Well, that was almost useless then. Face struggled to sit up, letting Murdock help him lean against the tree trunk, despair battering him like a spring tide. BA... memories of that moment when the shit hit the fan crowded through his aching head and he frowned as he accepted the water and painkillers Murdock pushed his way.
“He feels really bad...” Murdock’s voice was an almost whisper, “He didn’t know you were bluffing.”
“I know,” the water helped his throat, but hit his empty stomach painfully, “But, fuck, HM; we almost had him back...”
Murdock didn’t answer, just held out a peanut butter Hooah! bar which Face listlessly took off him and proceeded to unwrap as the Captain sat down next to him, his silent presence a comfort as Face tried to figure out what the fuck they should do next.
__________________
An hour later BA was back and Face had drifted into sleep once more, waking with a start as he heard voices in the trees to his left.
“Told, ya, fool there aint no road! I don’t know where that guy went, but he musta off roaded the whole way. Could be anywhere!”
“But, there musta been tracks, BA, or something! I dunno, but Face is gonna hit the roof if you’ve nothing to tell him!”
“Hey guys,” Face appeared from around a tree and blinked at them, trying to clear the fog from his brain.
Instantly BA stepped up, “Hey, man,” the awkwardness in his eyes was obvious, “I’m sorry. I screwed up. I shoulda known what you were up to.”
Face knew he should be the big man here, accept the apology and move on but he just couldn’t. A wave of irritation swelled up inside him, so huge it could have swallowed him whole and he glared coldly at BA, “Yeah, but you didn’t did you? Too busy thinking I’m the fucking bad guy here to even stop and consider whether you’re screwing up the plan.”
BA narrowed his eyes, “Plan? That weren’t no plan Face. That was just some random stuff that happened that you was trying to make the best of.”
Hands balled into fists, Face stepped forward. “You aren’t here for your fucking opinions, Baracus, you are here to do what you are told by those who outrank you,” Face knew he was being an arse, knew that Hannibal would be furious if he could hear him talking to BA like this, but his head ached, his limbs felt like jelly and he honestly wondered if someone had ripped his heart out ‘cause there was a fucking huge Hannibal shaped hole in his chest right now, so he found it hard to give a shit. “So keep your mouth shut, do as you are told for once, or I might just knock you flat on your butt.”
BA’s mouth was a thin, tight line as he stepped in to meet Face, “Oh, you think so do you? You think you can take me out? I’d like to see you try whore. You mention butt? Yours is the only reason the boss keeps you around!”
Face’s fist was flying before the words were completely out of BA’s mouth, but it never connected, knocked out of its flight path by a strong wiry arm and suddenly Murdock was right in his face, jamming himself in between Face and BA, his eyes flashing in fury.
“Cut this crap out!” he spat, one hand on each chest, “You think any of this is helping the boss?” his wild eyes flicked from Face’s cold blue ones to BA’s angry brown ones, “Well?” he prompted, “Do you?”
Face whirled away, frustration burning within him. He knew that fighting with BA wasn’t helping the boss, but that was just it, he couldn’t think of anything that would help and it was just eating him up. If he felt like this back on the base he would go for a run or go to the gym and hit something, or if it was really bad he’d get a little drunk and get into a fight... or, and this was his favourite way of dealing with stress, he’d surprise the boss somewhere and pound him through the nearest bed.
Unfortunately, none of those were an option at the minute and Face just clenched his fists, stalking angrily through the trees and coming face to face with one of the Russian hostiles, his face as white as the ropes that bound him to the tree.
Face stared, the facts slowly coming together in his mind before he hissed, “Murdock!” through the trees, ever aware of the fact the there still might be more Russians hiding out in the woods.
Murdock was instantly at his side, he took one look at the terrified face of their captive, one look at Face’s furious expression and braced himself for a fight, there was no way he was letting Face have his way on this one. “Yeah, bud?”
“What the fuck is this?” Face hissed gesturing furiously at the bound captive, “I thought I’d said no survivors?!”
“He surrendered,” Murdock replied calmly, “I’m not gonna kill a man who surrenders, Face,” he saw the quick look the lieutenant flashed his way, “And neither are you.”
For a second neither of them spoke. Murdock was aware of BA in the trees just behind him, thankfully keeping his distance for now, but then Face smiled. It was the kind of smile that sent shivers up and down Murdock’s spine and Face glanced at the captive Russian before turning back to Murdock, his smile even wider. “No, you’re right,” he said, “we can’t kill someone who has surrendered. Especially if they have information on where we can find the boss.”
That chill was still in Murdock’s spine, but BA was the one who answered, “He don't speak no English, Face. Don't you think we already tried?”
Face turned right around to fix BA with a cold stare, when would that guy ever learn? But he just shook his head and looked back at the hostage, huge, shit eating grin spread across his features. “Morning, friend,” he spoke in perfectly accented Russian, “How are you today?”
Three sets of amazed eyes fixed on him in the gloom of the forest before the man hesitantly replied in his native tongue, “I’ve probably been better.”
Face laughed and eyed the captive up. He was very young, maybe around eighteen or nineteen, and Face felt a flash of sympathy for him, he’d been seventeen when he’d joined up, desperate to get out of the long succession of care homes he’d been shoved into, each one throwing him out when his behaviour became too much for them. He’d just been a kid; same as this one here, and the forces was no place for a kid. But then he’d remembered Hannibal, the reason he’d survived those early years relatively intact, and all his sympathy vanished.
“What’s your name?” he barked, noticing how the kid flinched.
“Leon,” came the stuttered replied.
“So, Leon,” he fixed him with a cold stare, “how about you tell me where they have taken my friend?”
Leon shook his head, “I can’t! I mean-” he was cut off sharp by the vicious back hand that Face threw his way and came back up with blood trailing from his mouth.
Face smiled at him, “Let’s try again,” he said. “Where is my friend?”
“I don’t know!” Leon was starting to sound panicked, “I don’t even know who that tall man is, or who you friend is or-” this time it was a low drive to the stomach, leaving Leon gasping for breath and leaning heavily on his bindings.
“I really don't have the time for this shit,” Face told him, cold smile firmly in place, “so let me ask you one more time. Where the fuck is my friend?”
Leon was almost sobbing, “Please,” he whispered, “I don’t know, they came to my village, told my parents they would burn down our farm-”
Face struck him again, a punch to the side of this face this time, he didn’t want to hear all this about the kid’s problems, didn’t want to think of this guy as a person, an individual. All he was to Face was a source of information, and that’s the way he wanted to keep it. “Enough!” he barked, “Save the sob story for someone who cares and tell me who that guy is and what he wants with my friend!”
“I don’t know!” Leon was sobbing now, a huge bruise already rising on his cheek bone, “I told you all I know! They took me and my brothers, some other young men from our village! Said they needed soldiers! But I’m not a soldier!” Leon was yelling through his tears now, “None of them were either! Farmers! That’s all, and now they are all dead!”
There was no way that Face wanted to hear any of this. Those men in the forest, simple farmers? No. He didn’t want to hear that... “You lie!” he yelled in response, landing another blow to Leon’s stomach, “Those men were trained killers, they knew their way around a Kalashnikov alright!”
“Some of them, yes,” Leon gasped, “There were already some soldiers here, but the rest were peasants. We knew nothing!”
In his head Face saw the expressions of every man he had killed in the last twelve hours. If he thought really hard about it, he could probably pin down right now who had been a trained soldier and who had been a kidnapped civilian. His stomach churned unpleasantly. “Enough!” he yelled at Leon, self-reproach nibbling away at his patience and pulled his knife from its holster, “How about you start telling me something I want to hear, or I start drawing some pictures in your flesh!”
Murdock moved to his XO’s side a hissed, “Enough, Face, he doesn’t know anything!” the only indication of his frustration as Leon closed his eyes and sobbed, the smell of urine filling the air and a dark, wet stain suddenly appearing down the kid’s left trouser leg.
“Oh, fucking, Jesus!” Face cried out and the hand holding the knife lashed out at Leon, Murdock’s arm too slow to stop him. But only the cords that tied Leon to the tree were severed and the kid collapsed in a heap on the ground, sobbing hard. Face reached down and yanked him back up again, holding him up so he could look into his terrified pale eyes, “Get the fuck out of here, Leon,” he whispered, “Can you find your village on your own?” Leon nodded frantically, “Good. Well, go home. Don’t bother looking for your friends or your brothers, they are all dead. You know that right?” A terse nod, “So go home, run as hard as you can ‘cause if I or one of those army guys finds you again, you’re dead too. Understand?” Again Leon nodded.
Face turned to Murdock who was still warily watching him, “You got a rations pack?” he asked the captain, remembering to switch back to English first. Murdock nodded. “Good, give it to him, he’s leaving.” Murdock bent down and pulled a rations pack from the backpack at his feet and pushed it into Leon’s trembling hands.
Leon took it, thanking Murdock in English before turning back to Face, “You’re not going to kill me?” he asked, his voice noticeably shaking.
“Not if you leave now,” Face replied shortly.
Leon continued to stare at him, “I should kill you...” he whispered, “Avenge the death of my brothers and friends...”
Face let out a long sigh, “You could never kill me,” he replied easily, “And believe me friend, revenge is not as easy as it sounds. Now disappear before I change my mind and kill you.”
Leon stared at him for a long moment, and Face wondered if the kid really was going to have a go at getting his revenge, but then the moment was gone and with a hastily suppressed sob, Leon turned and ran through the trees.
Face watched him until he had disappeared from sight, then he turned to the side and threw up into the bushes, the peanut butter Hooah! bar burning his throat on the way back up
_________________
“I’m tellin’ you, I still think we should call in an extraction!”
Face closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose to try and beat down the reappearance of his headache, letting himself slump against the trunk of the tree he was leaning on. They’d been over this point at least five times in the last hour of pointless, hopeless conversation. “BA,” his voice sounded tired, worn down, “that’s just not gonna happen. You were the one who said we don't leave anyone behind. Well, that would be leaving Hannibal behind.”
“It’s not leavin’ him behind!” BA hissed as he paced up and down in front of Face, “We already done that the other night! This is getting the hell outta here to get some back up and see if someone else can get some intel as to where the hell the boss is! Maybe the guys who have got him have contacted the military, maybe they lookin’ for a ransom or somethin’!”
“It’s not happening, Baracus,” the only reason Face was so confident on this fact was that he had taken the sat phone from BA’s pack. “Now, shut the fuck up so I can damn well think!”
“Think about what?!” BA fumed, “You don't know shit here, Peck, and you jus’ sittin’ here lettin’ them take the boss further away!”
Face’s patience snapped and he jumped to his feet, “Who was it that screwed our best chance yet then Bosco? If it wasn’t for you, that damn Ruskie would have a hole in his head and the boss would be right here now! You forgotten about that you self righteous son of a bitch?!”
BA’s scowl deepened and he took a threatening step in, “Don’ you bad mouth my mamma!”
“Face?” Murdock’s voice, calmness itself, cut into the developing tension in front of him and both BA and Face found their eyes drawn down to the man who was sitting cross legged in amongst the piles of packs, a slight frown on his face. He looked up at the standoff above him, seeming to not even notice it. “What happened fifteen years ago?”
It was Face’s turn to frown, “What?!”
“’ This is fifteen years ago, all over again.’ That’s what Hannibal said. What happened fifteen years ago?”
Face blinked at him for a moment, “How the hell would I know, Murdock? I was still in Junior High fifteen years ago!”
Murdock wasn’t perturbed by Face’s anger, “But, it must be something important, yeah? For Hannibal to say it? Something he’d want us to know?”
Face still stared at him as BA answered, “So why the riddle, fool? The boss wanted us to know something why not jus’ say it?”
“Because he didn’t want that bald bastard to know that we knew...” Face supplied, his mind whirring into action.
“Exactly!” Murdock grinned, “So c’mon Face, what happened fifteen years ago?”
“I don’t know,” Face muttered, rooting around in his pack, “But I know a guy who might...”
Face’s fingers were shaking when he dialled the number. He had completely lost track of time zones and time differences, he only hoped his call would be answered. It was, on the third ring.
“Yeah?”
The relief at hearing that familiar voice with its faint English lilt, almost overwhelmed him, “Bunt, it’s Face.”
“Hey! It’s the kid! How you doing? You up in DC? Wanting me to drink you under the table again?”
Despite the tension coursing through his body, Face couldn’t help but smile. Bunter had been his XO for three years and had dealt with almost as much shit from him as Hannibal had in that time. Just hearing the guy’s voice made Face feel safe again.
“Sorry, Bunt, I’m on an op.”
There was a pause, just a beat and then Bunter was back, the concern evident in his voice, “Fuck, what’s wrong? Is it the boss?” The fear in the older man’s tone made Face’s stomach clench tight.
“No, he’s fine,” he lied quickly. “Look, I just need to know about something that might have happened fifteen years ago. Bunt, you were with him then, what could it be?” Face turned his back from Murdock and BA’s intense stares and surreptitiously crossed his fingers for luck.
“Fifteen years ago...” Bunter repeated, “Can’t you give me more of a clue than that kiddo? Me and the boss been through plenty of crazy shit in the past.”
“Maybe something to do with Russians?” Face prompted nervously.
“Russians?” the obvious change in tone of Bunter’s voice chilled Face to the marrow, “Oh, fuck, Face, please tell me it’s not that...”
____________________
Face’s fingers were shaking as he packed the sat phone away in its waterproof casing, taking his time, playing for time despite the way that Murdock was hovering at his elbow.
“Well?” the pilot eventually prompted, “What did he say, Face? He know anything?”
Face dropped the pack to the ground and rose to his feet, leaning back against a tree trunk and wiping the thin sheen of sweat from his face with one hand. He took a deep breath. “Fifteen years ago, Hannibal’s team was involved in stopping a stream of illegal weapons coming into the US from the USSR. They traced the guns back to one Igor Morozov, a General in the Red Army and Hannibal made sure there was enough evidence to implicate him in the whole damn mess. Seems Gorbachev himself wanted to make an example of the guy so he lost his job, his home, his wealth, his family, and was sent to a prison camp in Siberia.”
Murdock blew out through his teeth, “So, let me guess, this Morozov is out of prison now and wanting to hook up with the boss to discuss that little matter of revenge?”
Face shook his head, just wishing it was that simple. “Igor Morozov died in prison in 1991, just before the fall of the USSR. In the chaos that followed those days, plenty of high ranking ex-USSR statesmen ended up going rogue, making their own versions of state control in their own areas of the country.”
BA nodded, “You meanin’ the Russian Mafia?”
This time Face nodded, and Murdock’s heart started pumping harder as he noticed the paleness of his XO’s skin, “Yeah, big guy. I mean the Mafia. And one of those guys? One Bohdan Morozov, Igor’s baby brother.”
There was along, tense silence before Murdock spoke up again, “You think that’s who’s got the boss, Face, the Russian Mafia?”
Face rubbed both his hands through his hair, hoping to scrub everything about this mission right out of his head, “I don’t see another explanation, HM,” he whispered, “I mean, this is big, right? This whole mission of ours was a set up, who else could have engineered something like that?”
Murdock looked as pale as Face was, “So, your buddy on the phone, he knows where the boss might be?”
Shaking his head, Face pulled a map out of his pack and spread it on the ground. “Not really,” he murmured, “but he does know where the Morozovs lived back then, it could be a place to start.”
“Where?” Murdock asked, leaning in to look at the map.
“The end of the fucking world,” Face muttered, tapping the map irritably, “Magadan.”
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