Manipulation - Chapter Six

[indigo_angels]

“Morning.”

 

Face blinked and rubbed his eyes before eventually managing to focus on Samantha as she leaned above him, an amused smile on her face.

 

A number of things all struck him at once. First, it was broad daylight and he’d obviously slept in; the guys had each spent about twenty minutes hammering on his door last night asking, demanding or ordering him to let them in and talk to him. He’d ignored them all and eventually they’d given up and left. That had been around two thirty in the morning and so Face was, understandably, tired. Second, he knew damn well that his bedroom door had been locked, that’s why the team had pounded on it for so long, and thirdly, he was naked, laid flat on his back, arms over his head, one leg bent up at the knee, duvet barely covering only his straight leg. And he had a hard on. No wonder Samantha was smirking.

 

“Fucking hell!” He sat bolt upright, dragging the duvet back over himself and clutching it tight across his chest.

 

“Oh, come now Templeton,” Samantha chided putting a huge Starbucks carry out on his nightstand. “The blushing virgin act hardly suits you.”

 

“How the fuck did you get in here?” he muttered in reply, ignoring the sublime smell of the coffee for now as his pounding heart and flushed cheeks slowly returned to normal.

 

She swung a couple of keys, linked together on a heart key ring, in his face. “I pay the bills, I get a key!” she sing songed, snatching them back as he grabbed for them and he sighed, he was getting pretty fed up of that happening to him and went to follow her, but then remembered his current state of undress and his morning wood and froze, choosing to glare at her instead as she backed off towards the living area. “Come on, handsome,” she chided him. “Shake a leg, we are late. You have a television appearance today and we need to work on your answers.”

 

Face continued to glare until she slipped out of his room closing the door behind her.

 

____________________

 

“Hey!” BA shouted, “You guys come and see this!”

 

Hannibal and Murdock came out of the weapons store in the corner of the warehouse and Hannibal locked it behind him as Murdock made his way over to the relaxing area where BA was standing in front of the TV. By the time he reached their little corner, Murdock had plonked himself down on the sofa, eyes fixed on the flat screen but Hannibal didn’t even need to see to know what they were watching, Face’s voice reached him across the room. 

 

“Well, of course it is difficult, having your country turn on you like that when all you have ever done is serve it.”

 

Hannibal was impressed as he got to the TV and looked at the screen. Face had been rattled yesterday at the Police Station and upset last night, he can’t have had much sleep over night, but he was looking calm now, handsome, relaxed, poised and totally in control. Slick. He shook his head, only Face could manage a turn around like that, freedom must really be agreeing with him.   

 

“It’s interesting you say ‘turn on you’ like that,” the interviewer was saying, “after all, you were wanted for unlawfully escaping from federal custody. So, are you saying that the rest of the A-Team did kidnap you from prison?”

 

Everyone in the warehouse held their breath and for a second, a very brief second, Face seemed to stall before he flashed a smile at his host. “I’m not here to talk about the rest of the team, Owen.”

 

“So, are you saying they didn’t?”

 

Again, out came the smile, “You have to appreciate, I cannot talk about any cases other than my own.”

 

“I know Mr. Peck, and I am asking you about your own,” Owen Chilvers, investigative reporter had his own version of the ‘smile’. “It’s a very simple question, did you escape from federal custody on your own, or were you kidnapped by the rest of the A-Team?”

 

Face held his stare while the team held their breath, “You will just have to wait until my book comes out for that one, Owen, won’t you?”

 

BA snapped the TV off with an angry grunt while Murdock lifted his foot and kicked the coffee table across the floor, “Why won’t he just say it?!” the irritation in his voice was obvious. “Why is he makin’ us out to be kidnappers now?”

 

Hannibal sighed and turned back to the ammunition store. “Because if he says he escaped on his own, he runs the risk of having his pardon revoked and being sent back to jail. And technically he didn’t. Technically I did abduct him from Pensacola.”

 

“Yeah,” BA growled, “and technically he bust us outta that prison van. He was the one with the key for the cuffs.”

 

“It doesn’t matter guys, just forget it. It’s what Face says to the army that’s the issue here and the kid won’t sell us down the river.”

 

“Yeah, boss?” the level of bitterness in Murdock’s voice was previously unheard, “You sure about that then? I wouldn’t put anythin’ past him.”

 

Hannibal slid his hand gun into his shoulder holster. “Come on,” he instructed, ignoring Murdock, “we still need to do that surveillance on those prospective clients. It’s not going to do itself.”

 

__________________

 

Face kept his calm expression and his best smile until his microphone had been unclipped and he was well down the corridor from the studio, then he burst through the doors near where Samantha was waiting for him and crashed outside into the sunshine. “What the fuck was all that about then?” he snarled as he stormed away from her.

 

Her heels made a high clicking sound as she hurried to keep up, “Templeton, please,” she whispered, “calm down!”

 

He rounded on her in an instant. “Calm down?” he repeated, incredulous, “Calm down? How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? Haven’t I already told you, many, many times that I am not going to be responsible for bringing more charges up against the team?!”

 

“I know...” Samantha tried to placate him.

 

“So, what the fuck??? You said you had vetted those questions!”

 

“I had!” for the first time, Face noticed that Samantha was looking pretty rattled herself. “And I’m sorry, Templeton, Chilvers just added that one in on his own, he has a bit of a reputation for doing that.”

 

“Has he now?” Face muttered, forcing his temper down and running a shaking hand through his hair. “Might have been nice if you’d told me that.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Samantha muttered, her hand on his arm, “I really, really am. But you handled it beautifully, Templeton.”

 

He let out a long sigh and nodded almost imperceptibly, before moving on again. “And stop calling me that,” he snapped as they walked at a more sedate pace towards the car that was waiting for them, “I’m not used to it.”

 

Samantha looked confused. “So – what should I call you then?” she asked, “Face?”

 

He shook his head at once, no, that name had only been used by the team, and Sosa of course, for such a long time now it would be wrong for her to use it. “No. Oh, forget it, it’s fine. Call me what you want.”

 

He missed the frown that Samantha gave him as they neared the car. “Tell you what,” she said, “how about I buy you lunch before your next interview?”

 

Face just threw her a black look as he slid into the back of the car and folded his arms in reply.

 

_______________________

 

Maybe the reason that none of the team noticed they had a tail was the fact that they were all so caught up in thoughts about the CNN interview they had seen that morning, and what the hell Face might be saying to the army about them.

 

It was BA, predictably who eventually noticed though, a sleek black sedan with tinted windows, cruising a few cars behind them up the street. “Hannibal,” he muttered, eyes on the rear view mirror, “I think we’ve got some company.”

 

Hannibal immediately twisted in his seat, looking out through their own tinted windows at the back. “Okay,” he answered, voice calm and authoritative, “lose him.”

 

A casual observer may have expected BA to floor the accelerator at that point and for the van to scream away in a squeal of rubber, but nothing at all happened, the van just continued on its way along the road, slow and sedate and normal. Until they got to the next junction that is. BA indicated and pulled gently over into the right hand lane, getting ready to make the turn, three cars back the black sedan followed him. Then, just as he got to the front of the traffic stream, that’s when he floored it, stamping down on the gas as he yanked the steering wheel hard left and screeched across four lanes of traffic.

 

The air was filled with the sounds of blaring horns and screaming tyres, but BA, eyes narrowed, just gunned through it all, while Hannibal braced a hand on the dash board and Murdock stared intently through the rear windows.

 

“Ah, shoot, Colonel,” he moaned after a minute of tense silence, “looks like he made it through.” Hannibal remained silent, but BA’s mutterings could be heard from under his breath.

 

There was no way that trick would work again, not now it was obvious they were onto their tail, so BA went for the more basic option of just driving fast and using every manoeuvre he had been taught on the evasive driving courses that Hannibal insisted they all went on. For a few minutes it even looked as if it was going to work, despite driving the bigger and heavier vehicle, BA was pulling away from their pursuer, turning into smaller and smaller streets all the time, until, just as they were gunning down a narrow avenue with huge tenement blocks stretching up on either side of them, a shiny black big rig almost magically materialised in front of them, pulling out of a side street and causing BA to slam the breaks down hard and swear loudly as he threw the van into reverse. All three men twisted in their seats looking behind as they sped, straight as an arrow backwards, just as the black sedan appeared, swinging around to block the street and three men with automatic weapons and black suits bailed out and took up positions around them. A glance back at the rig confirmed what Hannibal had suddenly just realised.

 

“Gentlemen,” he sighed as one of the guys in suits shouted for them to get out of the van with their hands up, “it appears that we have just been rather convincingly suckered.”

 

______________________

 

It was well past ten o clock in the evening before Face let himself into his new apartment. He was tired and hungry, frustrated beyond all belief and really wanting to just relax with the guys, have a few beers, and maybe watch a film or a game, but of course that was never going to happen, not now. Instead he contented himself with a bowl of cereal while he stripped off and a quick shower, there was no sense in inviting a repeat of last night’s breakdown, then he slumped down in front of the TV with a bag of chips and a beer.

 

At twenty to one in the morning, when he honestly couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, he left all the lights on and padded silently into his bedroom, trying to convince himself he hadn’t been waiting for the team to call around and see him, no, not at all.

 

____________________

 

Hannibal woke with a pounding headache to find himself strapped to a bed in a very ordinary looking bedroom with flowery drapes pulled across the dark window. He was staring at the faded striped wall paper, trying to piece back together the events that had led him here when a voice to his left made him start.

 

“Smith.”

 

He turned and blinked into the dim bedside light as he just made out the shadow of a man, masked by the dull glare of the bulb between them. “This is not your average military jail,” he said trying to make out more details of the man in the corner.

 

A quiet laugh greeted his words, “I’m not a military man, Smith.”

 

Hannibal mulled this fact over. “Company man then?” the sharp intake of breath told Hannibal he’d scored a direct hit and he moved on straight away. “Where are my men?”

 

“Murdock and Baracus?” Hannibal nodded wondering what the suit would say if he asked about Face, “Look on your other side.”

 

Hannibal turned his head and could just make out BA in the gloom in a bed right next to the wall and Murdock between them both, his eyes catching the meagre light as he met Hannibal’s eyes. “HM,” Hannibal greeted him, “how you doing?”

 

“Fine, Colonel sir!” Murdock certainly sounded chipper enough. “Just a little tied up at the minute.”

 

The weak laugh that Hannibal produced at that old, old joke seemed to surprise the company man sat next to him.

 

“And the big guy?”

 

“Still sleepin’ like a babe...”

 

“Yes,” the suit seemed embarrassed by that fact, “Baracus was harder to bring down than we had imagined. We had to give him more than one dose of sedative.”

 

Hannibal and Murdock exchanged guilty stares, it seemed that their frequent-flyer technique was building up a rather strong resistance to drugs in BA’s system.

 

“So,” Hannibal continued, turning back to the silhouette of the suit, “why are we here then?”

 

“Think of this as a little vacation,” came the cryptic reply.

 

“I see,” but Hannibal didn’t. “A vacation from what exactly?”

 

“Hmmm. Less of a what, more of a who.”

 

Feeling Murdock’s eyes on him, Hannibal twisted and exchanged a concerned glance before turning back to the suit, it was obvious what was on both their minds. “Face? What the hell has any of this to do with him?”

 

“This has nothing to do with him,” the suit rose from his chair and Hannibal almost laughed out loud when he saw that he was wearing sunglasses. “In fact that’s the whole point, Smith. We want you three to have absolutely nothing  to do with Peck for the next few days. The last thing we need is you three getting in the way.”

 

“Getting in the way of what?” Hannibal almost shouted as the spook made his way to the door.

 

“Goodnight, men,” the guy in the suit replied instead. “Someone will be around at first light to see to your breakfast and toileting issues.”

 

Hannibal strained against the leather straps holding him to the bed. “Get back here!” he seethed, “You have a whole lot more explaining to do mister!”

 

He was standing in the doorway now, and turned back to Hannibal, and slight smile playing across his lips. “Don’t worry, Smith,” he told him in a patronising voice. “We are just going to put you up here for a few days, make sure you don't get in our way, and then as soon as our business is concluded, you will be free to go. I have no intention whatsoever of handing you over to the military. Why should we do their dirty work for them?”

 

“Business? What business?” Hannibal couldn’t give a shit at the minute about what was going to happen ‘after’. “What’s all this got to do with Face?”

 

But the guy in the suit only smiled at him. “Goodnight,” he said cheerily and slipped out the door, locking it behind him.

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