First Impressions - Hannibal & Face - Part 6

[indigo_angels]

..And 1..

 

It feels strange to be back Hannibal muses as the jeep drops him at his quarters. He allows the driver to bring his kit bag in, returns the sharp salute and then he is alone. He’s been away three weeks, bit of medical leave after the almost disastrous Cambodia job. By the time he, Face and Bunter had reached the pickup point that Face and Jonno had planned together, Hannibal had been on the verge of collapse.

 

But after a week he’d felt fine, it was good to have a bit of R&R and a chance to visit Bunter whose leg was still in a bad way, but since then he’s just been desperate to get back to his boys.

 

He wanders over to his desk and starts flicking through the envelopes and memos waiting for his attention. He needs to head over and see his boys just as soon as he can. He’s always proud of them, but what they all did on that last mission... proud just doesn’t seem to cover it. Sharkie and Jonno got all the hostages out safely, just about carried Piper most of the way between them. And Face... Hannibal shakes his head, well, he and that kid certainly need to have a conversation. It’s about time Face learns what Hannibal /really/ thinks about him.

 

The name on a memo catches his eye and he picks it off the pile and scans through it, his eyes darkening with every word. Suddenly his good mood evaporates. The memo is crumpled up in his fist as he throws his beret down onto the desk and storms out of the door.

 

Hannibal is pacing. He hates been made to wait and he is sure that this is a deliberate strategy just to try and piss him off. He reaches the wall of the office and spins on his heel again facing the door. Five more minutes, he fumes, five more minutes and he’s going to go looking for that son of a bitch himself. But then the door swings open and Colonel Sol Sanders strolls in, beaming at Hannibal as he does.

 

“Smith! Glad to hear you are up and about again,” his false smile is replaced by a look of false concern instead, “Heard about the SNAFU that was Cambodia...” he shakes his head, “you must be losing that golden touch of yours...”

 

Hannibal ignores the blatant dig, he’s got far more important things to sort out here, “Cut the crap, Sanders,” he growls, “what the fuck do you think you are doing poaching my lieutenant like that?”

 

Sanders raises his eyebrows, “Your lieutenant? Hmm, I think you may have your facts a little confused here Smith. It seems that in your reluctance to let him into your exclusive boys-own adventure club, you never actually got around to completing the necessary paper work.” Sanders smiles his thin and snarky smile again, “So it appears that he never actually joined your unit at all Smith. He’s mine and he always has been.”

 

There is something in Sanders’ tone that sets Hannibal’s nerves on edge but he can’t quite place what. “You were eager enough to get rid of him before though.”

 

Sanders shrugs, “I didn’t think he’d last. Thought you’d run out of patience with him soon enough and they he would either be out, or back with me.”

 

Hannibal narrows his eyes, “And why is that so important then? Why do you care where he is?”

He sees Sanders tense, “You said it yourself, Smith, he’s a cancer, spreading through this army, poisoning everything he touches. And like a cancer he needs destroying. Cutting into little pieces and disposing of, and I am the one to do it...”

 

Hannibal’s chest tightens. He’s never liked Sanders, always thought he was an idiot, but now he’s beginning to wonder if he’s not actually a little unhinged...

 

He shakes his head and tries to calm the situation down a notch, “Sol,” his tone is placating, “he’s just a boy. Sure he’s made mistakes, but who hasn’t? But he’s coming on, making great progress, and he’s got shit loads of potential.”

 

“Ah!” Sanders draws himself up to his full height, eyes flashing dangerously, “I see what’s happened here, never would have put you down as being such an easy mark Smith...”

 

“What?”

 

“Got you good and proper hasn’t he? What did he do? Shake his ass in your face in the field? Or just get on his knees and blow you one night after a job?”

 

Hannibal’s eyes widen, “You have got to be kidding me...”

 

“No... I can see it in your eyes. That boy is a born whore, /that’s/ the only thing he’s good at and he’s obviously using it to keep you on a pretty short leash here!”

 

Hannibal opens his mouth to protest, but suddenly everything clicks into place, “He’s refused you.”

 

It’s Sanders’ turn to frown, “What?” he exclaims, “I don’t know what you are on about Smith! I-”

 

Hannibal steps forward and jabs his finger in Sanders’ chest, “You made a move on him back in Basic Training and he blew you off didn’t he? Told you where to go, told you he wasn’t interested...”

 

Sanders takes a step back, his mouth open like a fish, “I-” but Hannibal follows him.

 

“And that’s why you’ve been out to get him ever since, making his life a fucking /misery/, tracking him every step of the way, kicking him every chance you got, turning everyone else against him!” Hannibal is furious, “And for what? Because he dented your fucking ego?!”

 

Hannibal’s finger is still jabbing into Sanders’ chest and Sanders swipes it away, leaning right into Hannibal’s face, “I am his Commanding Officer...” he hisses, “and he needs to follow my orders whether he wants to or not! He doesn’t get to pick and choose which orders he follows and which he doesn’t, he does them all, whenever and wherever I want! That’s what he is here for, that’s all he’s good for, and if he has decided that he’s not going to do it anymore... then I will destroy him!”

 

“You’re so wrong,” Hannibal holds his stare, “That’s /not/ all he’s good for at all. You’re the one who’s been taken in here, you’ve never looked further than his pretty face to see what he’s capable of inside. He’s smart and he’s brave. He follows his convictions, is loyal and tenacious. He can think on his feet, roll with the punches, he never gives up and he’ll never back down. He’s got skills in the field that make you look like a boy scout and if he has decided that he’s not gonna follow your perverted, deviant orders, then it just shows that the kid’s got higher standards than you as well. And /you/ could have had him!” Hannibal stabs his finger back into Sanders’ chest, “Not on his knees in your office with a court martial hanging over his head, you could have had him follow you, respect you, fucking /die/ for you if you’d handled him right! All that kid’s ever wanted is someone to look up to, someone to follow, someone who gives the tiniest fuck about him as a person, and that could have been /you/, you fucking halfwit!”

 

They stare at each other as Hannibal makes a concerted effort to calm down, “But you’ve missed your chance, Sol, ‘cause he’s /not/ yours anymore he’s mine. And I get to lead him, and I get to nurture him, and I get to see what a fucking superb man he’s going to be, while /you/ get to fuck off out of his life and leave him the hell alone!”

 

For one brief moment it seems that Sanders is out of ideas, but then the tiniest hint of a smile plays over his lips, “Well, that’s all good and pretty Major Smith...” he hisses, “But you seem to have forgotten that I outrank you here. And if I say the boy is mine, then he’s mine and I am going to have fun tearing him up, tiny piece by tiny piece until he is begging to get back in my bed and save himself. And /you/,” this time the finger is in Hannibal’s chest, “can do nothing about it!”

 

Hannibal’s eyes are cold and hard as he catches hold of Sanders’ finger in an iron grip, “That would be exactly the case,” he whispers, “had I not just got my eagles. It seems to me that the brass didn’t quite share your low opinion of the Cambodia job. And since I have, I reckon that makes us equal.”

 

Sanders recovers from his shock well and opens his mouth to speak, but Hannibal is too quick for him, “And before you even consider suggesting that you might want to hang on to the kid anyway, let me give you a word of advice here,” Hannibal makes sure his fist is twisting Sanders’ finger just enough to make it uncomfortable, “I’ve heard a lot of things today that have concerned me. Maybe enough to start asking around, talking to some of the boys, seeing what they tell me about your ‘orders’.”

 

He can see the beginnings of fear on Sanders’ face, “Is that what you want, Sol? Me poking around your sordid little past here?”

 

Sanders doesn’t respond. “Well, that’s exactly what you are gonna get if you come near my boy again, or if I hear that you have been making life hard for some other poor kid fresh out of college. Do you understand that?”

 

Sanders is obviously livid, but he knows that Hannibal has got him so he nods, one terse, furious nod and Hannibal steps back.

 

They stare at each other for the briefest of moments, each wishing the other into hell before Hannibal turns away. “I’m watching you Sanders...” he warns as he stalks to the door. He slams the handle down and yanks the door open, preparing to storm out, but freezes. There’s a soldier out in the corridor, standing right outside the door. Fair hair and blue eyes, a movie star’s face but with a soldier’s expression...

 

Hannibal is struck by the most powerful sense of déjà-vu as his eyes meet his lieutenant’s, but Face’s expression is a world away from that simmering fury Hannibal had witnessed almost a year ago now. He’s never seen the kid look so open, so vulnerable and so undone. He’s starring at Hannibal with wet eyes, looking like he’s going to crumple up at any moment, and all because, for the first time in his life, he’s heard somebody defend him, and praise him and talk about him as if he’s actually /worth/ something, and knowing that almost breaks Hannibal’s heart.

 

He reaches out and grips Face’s shoulder, making sure they have direct eye contact and smiles at his lieutenant, “I meant every damn word kid. I’ve never been as wrong about anyone as I was about you and I’m glad you stuck around long enough to show me,” he glances back over his shoulder to where Sanders is glaring at them with barely disguised venom, and then back to Face, “You ready to go now, kid?”

 

Face nods, and without another backward glance, they leave.

Part Seven