Manipulation - Chapter Seven

[indigo_angels]

Hannibal lay and seethed and listened as the front door shut and locked. Then there was the sound of footsteps retreating down a gravel path, followed by a car door and then an engine disappearing off into the night.

 

There was a beat of silence before Murdock spoke up. “Has he seriously gone and left us on our own here? Doesn’t he know who we are?”

 

The offhand comment was just enough to break the tension and Hannibal let out a little huff of amusement. “Well, I don't think you or I will be breaking out of these straps any time soon, Captain, hopefully Sleeping Beauty over there will have more luck when he wakes up.”

 

“Well,” Murdock looked around the flowery/stripy room and felt the pleasant ambient temperature and the soft comfortable mattress and turned back Hannibal, “we’ve certainly been holed up in worse places before.”

 

“Hmmm,” Hannibal didn’t follow his gaze around the room and Murdock watched him for a moment as his brow creased in concentration as he stared, unseeing, at the ceiling.

 

“You were right then, boss...”

 

It was probably the hushed tone to his voice that caught Hannibal’s attention and he looked away from the ceiling and over to the captain. “Right?”

 

“Face’s pardon – it’s all just a set up.”

 

Hannibal let out a long sigh, “It does seem very likely, Murdock, yes.”

 

“It will crush him,” the vicarious pain for his friend clear in his voice.

 

“If it doesn’t kill him first.”

 

Murdock let out a shocked gasp, “You think it’s that bad? You think this about more than sending us all back to jail?”

 

“Definitely,” Hannibal admitted. “You heard that spook; he’s not interested in the army’s agenda at all.”

 

“But,” Murdock frowned, “that General guy who sorted Face’s pardon, he most certainly is army, so what the hell does he want with Face?”

 

Shaking his head slowly Hannibal answered, “I don’t know. Unless the suits managed to convince him to do that for them. I don’t know.”

 

The two men lapsed into silence for a few minutes each thinking things over before Murdock spoke.

 

“So, that General, what’s his name?”

 

“Dobson.”

 

“Yeah, Dobson, he’s never been in the market for chasin’ us?”

 

“Never.”

 

“So, what does he do?”

 

Hannibal sighed, frustrated that he wasn’t making more sense out of this mess, “He actually tracks down war criminals and terrorists.”

 

Murdock lifted his head and stared at Hannibal, horror in his eyes, “Boss, you don’t think, he –” he stuttered to a halt, “I mean, Face...”

 

“Relax, Murdock,” Hannibal soothed, “I don’t think any of us count as terrorists yet. And even if we did, Dobson isn’t in the game of tracking them down and giving them pardons. He tracks them down, locks them up and throws away the key.”

 

Pacified, Murdock lay back. “So Dobson really is one of the good guys then?”

 

Another laugh drifted from Hannibal’s bed, “The entire US Army are supposed to be the good guys, that’s never helped us before!”

 

They drifted back into silence, both stuck in their thoughts for almost ten minutes before Hannibal spoke again. “You know, HM, you needn’t worry about what Face has said to the army about us, he’d never drop us in it.”

 

Murdock thought, very carefully, about his answer before he replied. “Well, I don't know. I never would have said he’d have left...”

 

Now it was Hannibal’s turn to cautiously phrase his answer, “We’ve talked about this, Murdock. He deserves his chance at a normal life. You know he’s never had one.”

 

There was along exhale from the other side of the room, “Boss, I can’t believe either of you are this stupid.”

 

Hannibal almost snapped his own neck the speed he turned to look at his captain, “Sorry?”

 

Fixing Hannibal with his best, ‘oh dear, this needs a toddler-level explanation’ look, Murdock let out another sigh. “Never had what, boss, what’s Face never had?”

 

A frown creased Hannibal’s brow, “A normal life. I said that.”

 

“And what’s a ‘normal life’ boss?”

 

“You know!” Hannibal looked frustrated, “A home, a family and all that.”

 

“So, he’s never had a family?”

 

“No.”

 

“A bunch of people who live with him and love him and want what’s best for him, he’s never had that?”

 

“Well, no, I suppose Father David fitted into that category pretty soundly and, hmmm...”

 

“Say it,” Murdock prompted.

 

“Well,” Hannibal could feel his cheeks flush, “I suppose...”

 

“Yes?”

 

“...well, I suppose - us.”

 

“Exactly!”         

 

Hannibal stared blankly at him.

 

“Don't you get it boss? You and him both think he’s gone off to find a ‘normal life’, which for him means a family, but all he’s really doing is walking away from the one family he’s already got!”

 

Hannibal blinked at Murdock for a moment as he processed that information, but then he got his smug-colonel face back on and he smiled, slightly patronisingly, at Murdock. “There are other types of family, Murdock, kid wants a wife and two babies, a dog and a swing in the yard. He wants to take his boy to baseball games and glare at any guy who wants to date his daughter. He wants a wife he can stroll down the beach with when they are old and grey, and he wants to take holidays in theme parks in Florida. That’s the kind of life Face wants, Murdock, and he can’t have that if he’s on the run with us.” 

 

There was pity in Murdock’s eyes after that speech. “How do you know, boss?” he asked quietly. “How’d you know that’s what he wants? He told you all that?”

 

Again Hannibal frowned, “He doesn’t need to tell me – of course it’s what he wants, it’s what anyone would want.”

 

Murdock held his eyes, “Is it what you want, boss?”

 

Hannibal flushed, “I’m different,” he almost stammered out. “Older,” he amended at Murdock’s raised eyebrow. “And I’m not as insecure as Face.”

 

“Right,” Murdock’s voice was soft, his eyes burning right into Hannibal’s soul as he spoke, “I think the pair of you are over complicating all of this. What you both want, what you both need is a lot easier to reach than you think.”

 

Hannibal just stared. It was impossible to misconstrue Murdock’s meaning and the pilot’s careful reflections had shocked him to the core. He suddenly wondered just how much of his private, no, make that secret life was known to Murdock? To the team? And if Murdock knew secrets about him, then what did he know about Face? His best friend? His confidante? As embarrassing as this topic might well be to pursue, he realised this all needed further clarification and opened his mouth to ask, just as a furious roar split the silence from the bed behind Murdock; BA was awake.

 

______________________

 

Six of General Taco’s men step forward and grab Captain Peck, holding him still while two more stack tyres around him, keeping him prisoner. They put a noose around his neck and push him over, Captain Peck tightens the muscles of his neck, keeping the rope from tightening too much and as the men run back to their posts he starts to pull his arms from the tyres.

 

CAPTAIN PECK: Get over here Taco! You and I have some unfinished business!

 

General Taco, holding his terrified wife prisoner, steps forward as Captain Peck bursts from the tyres. All the other men flee for their lives.

 

GENERAL TACO: You think you can come here and threaten me Gringo? I will kill you with my bare hands! 

 

CAPTAIN PECK: I’d like to see you try!

 

The two men run towards each other and Captain Peck jumps in the air, twisting around to grab General Taco with his legs around the throat. They both fall to the ground and General Taco is unconscious.

 

TACO’S WIFE: Oh, Templeton, my hero! I do love you so! Take me home and ravish me!

 

They kiss passionately but General Taco gets up and creeps up on them. Captain Peck punches him without breaking the kiss and he falls unconscious again. They run to one of two jet planes parked nearby.

 

CAPTAIN PECK: Get in, darling, we need to make our daring escape!

 

TACO’S WIFE: Oh, I didn’t know you could fly Templeton!

 

CAPTAIN PECK: I can a bit, a crazy pilot I met once showed me. He was completely round the bend, but he could fly!

 

It was at that point that the PDA sailed across the room and hit the wall with a loud thud and Face scowling darkly after it. He’d been tempted to throw it about ten times that morning already but had persevered in the vain hope it might actually start to get better, but no, it hadn’t.

 

It was clear that whoever had written the stupid thing had read Hannibal’s and probably his mission reports, so they obviously had some fairly high security clearance, but it was also clear that they no real idea about the army. Or real life. Or the basic rules of physics. Or how people spoke. Or even how to write a screen play; the whole thing was dreadful.

 

He had cringed his way through the portrayal of him as some kind of superhuman, X-Men type figure; he kept expecting the script to read ‘Captain America’  instead of ‘Captain Peck’, and he just rolled his eyes at the Matrix  style acrobatics he kept on performing. The reference to ‘tightening his neck muscles’ to avoid the hanging actually made him laugh, as did the description of how he’d pulled his arms out of those tyres. He’d nearly given up on the whole thing when he met General Taco, wondering if he was a friend of Captain Bellybuster, and imagining the real Tuco turning in his grave, if he’d had one of course. And then when Taco’s wife decided she was coming straight out of a Jane Austen novel, he’d almost lost his breakfast.

 

But of course, the thing that had really done it for him, had set the blood boiling in his veins was the reference to Murdock. He’d punched people out for less in the past, and his opinion of the scriptwriters had gone from incompetent to insulting and he just hoped for their sake that he never met them...

 

A knock at the door of his apartment had him on his feet in seconds, heart thumping with wild hope, but then Samantha’s voice rang out, ruining it all. “Hey, Temp, hope you are decent! I’m coming in!”

 

Face rolled his eyes at the new name she had decided to use on him and trudged over to the PDA, picking it up off the floor and stuffing it into the pocket of his suit. Samantha still insisted he carry it around everywhere with him, and they did spend time here and there talking about it, the things that Face didn’t like - mainly - all the words. Of course he was decent, he’d been up since 0400, couldn’t sleep. And anyway, now he knew she had a key and no morals, he wasn’t going to give her the chance to ogle him again. Taking the coffee she held out for him without a word, he traipsed out of the apartment in front of her and headed for the elevator and the first of today’s three interviews.

 

___________________

 

Hannibal let out a long sigh of relief as the sound of the car engine outside kept on going right past their current prison. It was almost fully light now, and it wouldn’t be long before the guys in suits were back, and Hannibal would dearly have liked to have been long gone by that time.

 

“BA,” he tried to keep his voice neutral but the tension was really starting to tell, “how’s it going there big guy, you nearly out?”

 

A grunt sounded from the other side of the room before BA’s reply reached him, “I’m doin’ my best man, these straps are solid!”

 

Screwing up his eyes in silent frustration Hannibal wondered what on earth he could say at that point, but Murdock beat him to it anyway. “I think it’s a lost cause, boss,” his voice was little more than a whisper but sounded clearly in the silent room, “he is gettin’ past it...”

 

“Past it?!” BA roared making Hannibal wince, “I aint past it at all!”

 

“Hey, don’t feel bad BA!” Murdock tried to pacify him, “You don’t work out as much as you used to, an’ all that beer and chips and football games on the TV, bound to have an effect eventually! Course you’re not as strong as you used to be.”

 

“Shut up fool! I’m stronger!”

 

“Can’t be,” Murdock seemed not to notice BA’s temper, “otherwise you’da had those itty bitty little straps off in no time, ‘stead on takin’ all night about it.”

 

There was a long, low groan from the far bed as BA’s anger leant him strength and the next thing Hannibal could see was his sergeant crawling out from under his finally stretched straps and making straight for Murdock, fury still in his eyes.

 

“Err, boss!” Murdock flashed a concerned look over at Hannibal as BA made straight for him.

 

“BA!” Hannibal snapped, but BA seemed not to hear him.

 

 “You think I’m weak huh, fool?” the threat in his voice was unmistakable.

 

“Bosco!” Hannibal tried again to no avail.

 

“I’ll show you weak, sucka!”

 

“Oh, hey, BA! Come on now old friend, old buddy... you know I was jus’ kiddin’!” Murdock struggled ineffectually against his bonds.

 

“Yeah, well, kid this!”

 

“Sergeant! Stand down!” Hannibal used his best command voice but BA wasn’t listening. With a throaty growl he reached over as Murdock closed his eyes and cowered beneath him before taking hold of the leather strap fastened across the pilot’s chest and with a huge roar, ripping it open, bending the buckle right back in the process.

 

When he didn’t feel a fist in his face, Murdock risked cracking open an eye to find BA leaning over him with the two managed ends of the strap in his hands. “Now, who weak, fool?” he growled and before he could move out of the way, Murdock sat up, his hands still fastened to the sides of the bed, and kissed BA on the forehead.

 

“My hero!” he breathed.

 

___________________

 

Hannibal, BA and Murdock stepped off the bus at the stop near the warehouse and trudged in weary silence along the sidewalk. They’d escaped from their chintz prison to find themselves in a very ordinary house, on a very ordinary street, in a very ordinary suburb of LA. And on a bus route at that. The only thing that set their house apart from every other house around them was the ‘For Sale’ sign stuck into the grass on the front lawn. Just as they were deciding what to do, a bus came by and Murdock made up their minds for them, jumping on and swinging around the pole in the doorway, so they’d bought tickets for downtown, changed buses twice, and were now almost home. They knew they were taking a risk coming back here, but Hannibal insisted they needed to get some supplies before they found somewhere to keep a low profile.

 

To their surprise, they opened the doors of the warehouse to find the van parked in its usual place in the garage, right next to Hannibal’s car. Exchanging confused stares Hannibal shrugged, “Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth guys,” he said. “BA, sweep it for bugs, Murdock get some weapons in there, I want to be out of here in fifteen minutes, we need to find Face.”

 

They set about their jobs with a new sense of urgency, knowing that if that guy in the suit wanted them to stay away from Face, then what they needed to do, and pretty damn quickly, was to find him and stick to him like glue.

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