indigo_angels

It was another fruitless day. The thick mist of midnight hung about Magadan as Face trudged hopelessly back towards the docks. He had no idea how many miles he had walked today, how many people he had spoken to and only one person, an old guy, Rurik, in the squalid Veteran’s Home, right at the far side of town, could even remember the Morozovs. Face’s excitement had been short lived, however, as Rurik explained that following a ‘scandal’ involving the elder Morozov brother, Felka Morozov had taken her younger children, a boy and a girl he thought, and moved west, possibly to St. Petersburg, possibly to Moscow. Face had thanked him, given him almost all his remaining Rubles, choking up at the wonder in the old guy’s expression and left.

So that was that then. No Morozovs in Magadan, not for too many years, and so, obviously, no Hannibal either. Face had dragged the team right across to the arse end of Russia, exactly opposite of where they needed to be, about four thousand fucking miles in the wrong direction. So now all they had to do was head back west, with no money and too little time, and search two cities with a combined population of fifteen million until they found the boss. Fucking perfect.

He’d spent the rest of the day just walking, trying to work out where the hell he had gone wrong, and what he could do to get this FUBAR back on track and eventually found himself back at the warehouse absolutely no further on at all.

He was disappointed to find both BA and Murdock still awake when he squeezed in through the gaps in the wall. The last thing he wanted to do was admit to his mistake and have to tell them they were searching four thousand miles too far east. But... he was CO, that was the type of shitty thing that came with the job and Face knew he was man enough to do this. With a bit of luck BA might even just start on him – a fight would feel so good right about now...

Murdock rose from the fire as Face approached, his eyes so full of hope that Face wanted to lie, just so he didn't have to disappoint the guy. He couldn’t of course, and the terse shake of his head was all that Murdock needed to lose the will to stand, crashing back down next to BA on an upturned box. Face joined them, sitting opposite them in the gloom and not even noticing as the warmth of the fire reached out to him.

“It’s time to call an extraction,” he muttered, not making eye contact with the others at all.

“Finally!” BA exclaimed, “’Bout time you started makin’ sense, man!”

Murdock’s eyes narrowed, “Who for Face?” he asked.

Ignoring BA’s confusion, Face finally met the pilot’s eyes, “I’m not leaving without him.”

“What?! You crazy?”

BA was ignored again as Murdock held Face’s eyes over the fire, “What will happen to me, Face, if I go back without him?” Face frowned, he knew the answer to that, had always known the answer and Murdock nodded in recognition of the look in his XO’s eyes, “Exactly muchacho. I’m not going back without the Colonel either.”

“What?!” BA was almost out of his seat in outrage, “You two a pair o’ damn fools! You think I wanna go home without the Colonel either? What have I got to back to without him? But stayin’ here, going’ AWOL?! Man, that’s just crazy!” He did rise up now, towering over Face in the darkness, his anger almost solid between them, “This is your doin’ man!” he hissed, pointing a thick finger at Face, “You an’ all your crazy talk! Gonna get that crazy fool sent down!”

Face and Murdock rose at the same time, Face relishing the opportunity to work some of his grief and frustration out on the big guy, Murdock seeing what was coming and desperately trying to avoid it, but before anyone could do anything, a clear, piercing voice in halting English sounded out across the warehouse, “You not say you look for a Colonel!”

Everyone froze, then they all moved at the same time, Face drawing his gun, BA trying to snatch it away and Murdock shifting so that he was between Face and the source of the voice.

“What the fuck?” Face exclaimed, keeping his gun out of BA’s reach, while several more dark shapes rose up from the direction of the voice.

Murdock spun on his feet, planting his back to Face and called out, “Sasha! What did we tell you? Stay out of the way until we had chance to tell our friend about you!”

Face leaned around Murdock and gaped in surprise at the scruffy street kid staring back at him. He seemed to be about thirteen, dirty blond hair that looked like it had been cut with a knife and fork and thin ragged clothes, nowhere near enough layers to keep him warm through a night like this. He saw Face eyeing him up and visibly straightened, his steady grey eyes meeting Face’s head on without flinching, not only standing up to the scrutiny but returning it, his own appraisal making Face feel uncomfortable. He tore his eyes away and looked at Murdock who had turned his back on Sasha and the other dark shapes and was now looking at Face, eyes wide with emotion.

“They live roun’ here, Face,” barely suppressed panic was causing his words to run together, “I foun’ them on a patrol, they could smell the soup I’d made an’ they were hungry, they weren’t gonna steal none, they were jus’ lookin’ roun’ an’ I asked them if they wanted some and Sasha here speaks English a bit an’ he said yeah, an’ so I made some more, an’ it’s not like we was busy! An’ you weren’t here to ask an’ BA been teaching ‘em baseball an’-”

“Jesus Christ!” Face exploded and threw up his hands, spinning round to glare at BA, “Here’s me thinking we are actually on a fucking important mission, and here’s you guys setting up a fucking soup kitchen for itinerant street kids!”

BA’s eyes narrowed, “Don’t man...” he warned, knowing that being around these kids all day was the one thing that had stopped Murdock tipping right over the edge.

Face was oblivious to the warning and stepped closer, fists tight at his side, “You don't tell me what to do!” he yelled, blue eyes blazing in the dark.

Never one to back down from a challenge, BA squared up to him, own fists clenching as Murdock tried to get around the fire and in between them. Yet again, however, it was Sasha’s piping voice than stopped them all in their tracks, “He your leader then? He look like a big penis to me!”

BA froze, while Murdock’s hand shot up to his mouth in a vain attempt to stop the snigger that burst forth at Sasha’s comment. Face turned slowly and looked back at Sasha, his movements measured and controlled and Murdock’s giggles died in his throat. Sasha stared back, no amusement in his face, just a flat stare. For a second there was silence before Face eventually said, “Not ‘penis’, kid, ‘penis’ doesn’t work as an insult. You wanna insult someone, the word you need is ‘dick’, but ‘dick-head’ would work better. Maybe even ass-hole.”

Sasha paused as he considered this before nodding and looking right at Face, “You look like a big dick-head to me!”

Face turned and sat back down again, poking at the fire to get it higher, “You wouldn’t be the first one to think that, kid. Not by a long way.”

Murdock’s eyes flicked from Sasha to Face and BA before he allowed himself to sink back onto his upturned box, secure in the knowledge that no one would be punching anyone else for at least the next five minutes.

Face slipped into silence and Sasha took a step forward, leaving the massed ranks of his little gang huddled in the shadows behind him. “So,” he said determinedly, “You looking for a Colonel then? I know a Colonel.”

Sighing loudly, Face rubbed his hands up and down his arms, “Not just any Colonel,” he muttered, “a particular one.”

“I know one,” Sasha maintained, “American, like you. Big man. White hair. Cross.”

Face was up off the box and in front of Sasha, hands gripping his thin arms tightly, so fast that no one else had had chance to move, “What?!” he breathed, his heart hammering against his ribs.

His answer was a sharp kick to the shin which made him yelp in pain and let go of Sasha’s arms as the boy yelled, “Dick-head!” at him and retreated back into the shadows.

“Fucking little shit,” he moaned, rubbing at his shin while balanced on one leg.

“You scared him!” Murdock admonished, looking anxiously into the dark corners of the warehouse. “Sasha?” he called, “You still there? Come back and talk to us, buddy! This is real important!”

“No!” a petulant voice sounded from the darkness, “Not until I have a sorry!”

“We’re sorry!” Murdock called, “No one meant to scare you – it’s just this is real, real important...”

“Not scared!” Sasha’s voice called back, “And not sorry from you! Sorry from dick-head!”

It was BA’s turn to snigger now as Face swore quietly under his breath. Murdock however, crept closer and cupped Face’s elbow in his fingers, squeezing just enough to be felt, “Say sorry to him Facey, he’s a good kid, really he is, you just upset him, s’all.”

Face let out a long sigh, felt to him like he was the one that should be getting an apology, but he wasn’t about to argue that point now, not when this was the first sniff of a lead they had had since that baldy bastard had pulled the boss over the train tracks.

He looked into the shadows, feeling slightly stupid addressing a dark corner and cleared his throat, “Look, kid-”

“Sasha,” Murdock interrupted.

Face felt his teeth grind together, “Sasha,” he amended, “I’m sorry I grabbed you okay? I didn’t mean to... startle you like that.”

Silence.

He tried again, “It’s just... Well, you were right. I am a dick-head, and I’m not the boss and I’m trying really hard to do a good job, but it’s just not me,” he took a step towards the dark and then stopped. “See, that’s what we need the Colonel for, he is the boss, and he is so, so much better at it than I am...”

“Amen, brother...” BA muttered from behind him.

Face ignored him but switched smoothly into Russian, hearing the impressed gasps from some of the younger kids, “And this tall, cross guy you’ve seen, well it does sound a lot like our Colonel, and, well, if you wanna come down here and talk about it, man to man, then – I’d really appreciate that Sasha.”

At that Face turned and walked away, upending two boxes and setting them either side of an old packing crate. Then he went over to their pile of supplies and grabbed two cans of coke and took them back to the impromptu table, sitting on one box whilst popping both cans open and placing the other one on the crate front of the other, still empty, box. He took a long swig of his coke and just sat, knowing that Sasha would want to wait long enough to make him sweat before he put in an appearance, but that he would come, would want to be part of this conversation, needed to feel needed. Face knew all this, as fifteen years ago he had been that kid, maybe not cut quite as far adrift as this one, but he’d certainly spent enough time looking out for himself on the streets that he knew the way it worked.

He sipped his coke quietly as Murdock and BA went back to sitting at the fire and after about five minutes Sasha appeared, eyes narrowed in distrust as he slipped up to the crate and wrapped his fingers around the can. Face met his gaze and nodded at him, lifting his own can to Sasha with a murmured, “Za vashe zdorovie!”

Sasha lifted his drink in reply and then raised it to his lips, gulping the fizzy liquid down his throat so fast that Face couldn’t help wincing as he watched. Once at least half the drink was gone, Sasha lowered the can and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, burping loudly as he finished. A multitude of giggles sounded from the darkness but one swift stare from Sasha and they stopped, Face was impressed.

“So,” he leaned over the crate towards Sasha, “Tell me what you know of this Colonel then.”

Sasha sat up straight and looked him in the eye as he replied, “There is a big house up on the hill to the west of town, Georgiy saw the man who lives there packing up and moving out about two weeks ago so we decided to move in.” He paused for a moment, almost daring Face to say something, and when he stayed silent, Sasha continued, “Anyway, about three days ago the man came back again, and we had to scarper, but as we left I saw he had a prisoner with him, a tall American in chains, a man he called, ‘Colonel’.”

Face shot a fast look over at Murdock and BA, but realised that of course they couldn’t understand the conversation and so turned back to Sasha, “The Colonel, tell me what he looked like, as best you can.”

Sasha didn't even pause, “He was tall, taller than you and had white hair, short,” Sasha shrugged.

“And what was he wearing?”

“Army gear.”

Face had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. “You said he was cross,” he said, fixing Sasha with his stare once more, “why did you say that?”

Sasha laughed, “That’s easy. He kept on calling the other man names. Said he would live to regret crossing him or something.” Sasha smiled, “He called him a ‘scuzzball’, I like that word, I should have called you it.”

Face would have laughed but he couldn’t. He knew that if he let up on his emotions by just one tiny mark, he would end up in tears again. He looked back at the two anxious faces around the fire, “It’s him,” he told them in English before turning back to Sasha as both Murdock and BA let out huge gasps of relief, but now he needed to know just one more thing, “How many men were with him?”

Sasha shrugged again, “I don’t know, maybe twenty?” Face nodded, “Did they have guns?” This time Sasha nodded, “And what about the man he was talking to, what do you remember about him?”

Taking a long swallow of coke, Sasha thought about it, “Not much,” he admitted, “He was tall too, but had a suit on. Very grey. He was all grey.”

“Grey hair?” Face prompted.

“No,” Sasha shook his head vehemently, “He had no hair.”

“And his name, do you know his name?”

Sasha shook his head, but a girl aged about ten suddenly stepped out of the shadows, her long corn coloured hair tangled around her shoulders and dirty smudges on her thin face, “It was Barsukov,” she answered timidly, “Mikhail Barsukov.”

Face turned and smiled at her and she suddenly turned beet red and scurried back into the shadows pulling a huff of annoyance from both Sasha and BA.

Looking back at Sasha, Face was up and off his seat, “Can you take me to this house?” he asked urgently and Sasha frowned at him.

“Now?” Face nodded and the boy shook his head, “It’s not safe to walk around town at night, too many thieves and murderers.”

“You will be alright with me,” Face told him.

There was a long pause. Sasha was obviously uncomfortable and BA stood up, Murdock rising slowly at his side. “What’s goin’ on man?” he asked, suspicion clear in his voice.

Face turned to him, all his emotions bundled up tight, “He knows where the boss is,” he answered quickly, “I want him to take me but he’s not sure.”

“It’s not safe at night!” Sasha told BA in English.

Frowning at the boy, Face turned to the shadows, “I didn’t have you down as a coward, Sasha,” he said in Russian, “Maybe one of the others would be brave enough to show me?”

Sasha flew to his feet, knocking over the wooden box he was sitting on, “I’m not a coward!” he shouted in English and BA frowned.

“Georgiy?” Face called into the darkness, remembering the name Sasha had used, “You there, kid?”

A tiny dark headed boy, no more than seven years old stepped out and stared at Face with awe filled eyes and Face grinned at him, “Hey, you look like a brave soldier. You think you are big enough to show me where that house is?”

Before Georgiy even had time to answer, BA set forward with a growl but Sasha was quicker than him, darting around the crate and catching Face with a decent punch to the kidneys before grabbing hold of little Georgiy and steeping between him and the American.

“No!” he spat, blue eyes looking murderously at Face, “He is just a little boy! You don't make him go out in the night!”

“You’re just a little boy!” Face retorted not realising they had slipped back into English, “What’s up Sasha? Worried Georgiy’s got more guts than you?”

Sasha’s face was filled with hate and he stepped forward, BA at his shoulder, but it was Murdock that got there first, “For god’s sake, Face! They are all little kids! If Sasha says it’s not safe until light, then no one goes! Is that clear? No one!”

Face stared in stunned silence for a moment before he exploded, “But he’s there Murdock! Don't you get that?! He’s just there on the other fucking side of town, we could go and get him now, we could have him back within the hour!!!!!” Face was just about apoplectic.

Murdock glanced at his watch, “It will be light in just over three hours,” he ground out. “You have hardly slept in two days. Those kids, kids Face, need some sleep, me and BA need some sleep. Three hours Face, that’s all...”

He left it hanging, that calm voice, always a balm to Face’s nerves... but this was Hannibal and they had found him. How could they even wait five more minutes? He whirled on his feet and in a second had snatched up the little blonde girl, holding her tightly around her waist, her back to his chest, feet off the floor, “She’ll show me!” he spat at Murdock while Sasha struggled to get out of BA’s iron grip. “I don't need any of you to come with me! She knows the way, she can show me, I’ll get the boss back on my own!”

“Face,” the hitch in Murdock’s voice tugged at him, “Look at her, buddy, just look at her...”

He couldn’t help it. Face didn't want to look, he wanted to turn and run like hell out of there and make the girl show him where to go to get Hannibal back. But Murdock’s voice was almost hypnotic, and without even meaning to, he turned his head and found himself looking into wide, tear filled, terrified eyes. A wave of self loathing washed over him and he instantly dropped the girl back on the ground with a whispered, “Prastee meenya pozhalosta...” {Forgive me please...}. Face watched, appalled at himself as she ran straight into Sasha’s arms and he spun on his heel, kicking the empty boxes out of his way and stormed off into a silent corner of the warehouse, throwing himself down onto a pile of sacking when he got there.

The blonde girl, Anya, was sobbing into Sasha’s shoulder and the other kids came creeping out of the shadows, their faces white and drawn and Sasha started to lead them all away, “Your friend?” he shouted at Murdock as they backed off, “He crazy!”

Murdock took a step after them, his face as white as Georgiy’s, “But you’ll still help us?” he asked, desperation in every syllable, “When it is light? You’ll show us the house?”

“I’ll show you!” Sasha snapped back, “But he can go to hell!” and with Anya’s sobs still audible well after she had slipped into the shadows, the children all disappeared.

_________________________

Every single muscle in Face’s body was taut. He lay on his side, facing the rotting wooden wall, arms wrapped tightly around himself and tried to get a handle on just what the fuck was going on with him. He’d never been a huge fan of himself, sure there were plenty of parts he liked, but there were always bits he preferred not to look at too closely as well, and since Hannibal had gone, well, those parts just seemed to be taking over. But hurting a child, grabbing that girl like that, especially after the way she’d looked at him before... shame flooded his body and he screwed his eyes shut, hating himself, hating this whole stupid mission, hating the thought of what he would do the next time he was pushed...

“Face...”

He’d been so wrapped up in his self loathing that he hadn’t heard Murdock come up behind him and right about now, seeing Murdock’s far too expressive face was the last thing he needed. “Go away,” he growled angrily.

But Murdock didn’t go away, Face was learning that he wasn’t that good at keeping his nose out of other people’s issues, and before he had chance to do anything more, Murdock was lying down behind him, stretching his long body out behind Face’s, covering them both against the chill night with an open sleeping bag, one arm sliding under Face’s head to act as a pillow, the other wrapping over his ribs, hand lying flat against his chest, right over his pounding heart. “You need some sleep...” Murdock whispered against his neck, “This isn’t you, buddy, you’re all strung out here, just close your eyes and try to get some sleep.”

Face wanted to push Murdock off him, wanted to yell at him to go away and leave him the hell alone, but that comforting weight behind him was just too much. The feel of a heart beating against his back, warm breath on his neck, was chipping away at his anger. Face was a tactile person by nature, starved of casual touch as a child, violated and abused as a young soldier, once Hannibal had shown him what it was like to be touched in love, it was all he craved. Sex, sure, he liked sex, loved it, but it was the rest, all the incidental touching, a hand on his shoulder, finger tips in the small of his back. A body pressed up against him as he slept, an arm holding him close... Despite himself, Face felt some of that anger and tension slip away and slowly, slowly, sleep pulled him in.

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