indigo_angels

Face drummed his fingers nervously against the steering wheel of his hire car and checked for the hundredth time in the last few minutes that his hand gun was still tucked into the waist band of his trousers. BA had wanted to dump all the firepower in Irkutsk, was convinced that it would get them stopped at the airport, but Face wasn’t so sure. He knew for a fact that Russian security wasn’t up to the levels of the west, and also knew that for every official wanting to do their job properly, there were another six who really couldn’t give a damn. In the end, there hadn’t even been anyone at the security desk for the internal flight to Magadan. It was almost as if the officials thought that no one would even think of doing anything nefarious in the back of beyond like that. Despite the comfort his gun brought him, he sighed and tapped his feet anxiously, hoping to all hell that he had done the right thing in making them split up.

 “No!” Face’s head whipped round and Murdock stopped short, “I am responsible for the two of you! How can I ever face Hannibal again if I let something happen to you?”

There was a long silence as Murdock processed this new information. So, Face was beginning to give up hope of ever finding the boss again, and more than that, he was planning on sending Murdock and BA back without him. He learned enough about Face in the last six months to know that confrontation was not the right way to handle him, so instead he made sure his voice was as quiet as possible before saying, “You know if you don’t go back, they will list you as AWOL.”

Face just shrugged, “Not bothered. Not going back without the boss.”

Murdock watched his bent head in silence for a few minutes before whispering, “What if we don’t want to come back either?”

That got Face’s attention. His puffy, bloodshot eyes met Murdock’s and he frowned, “But, why...” the question tailed off into nothing.

Poking at the rapidly rising flames, Murdock shrugged. “Why not bud? You think we’d leave you here on your own? You think we’d leave the boss while there was still the slightest chance we’d find him? You think there would be anything for me an’ BA to go back to without Hannibal?”

The two men watched each other in silence for a moment before Face looked away again. “I was nineteen when I met the boss,” he whispered, watching the fire, “Even though my papers said I was twenty three. Already been in the Army an age, already a Ranger, already commissioned,” he shook his head ruefully, “already on my way back out again, right on the edge of a dismissal.” He met Murdock’s gaze again, “Hannibal was the only one who cared enough to even try and stop my self destruction. He saved my career, he saved my sanity, hell, James, he saved my god damn life...” Face had to stop as his throat closed up again.   

“I know, Face,” Murdock soothed, “I know all this. I can see it in the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. I could from that very first day in Mexico, the way he touched you in the corridor before he’d even spoken to me, I knew from that second onwards what it was like for you two, I know how hard this all is for you.”

Normally at this point Face would start yelling about how he didn’t know, how no one could understand how he felt about Hannibal, how no one would ever be able to even guess at the pain and desperation he felt right now, but looking at Murdock, he knew that that wasn’t true. Face felt blessed every single day of his life that, in Hannibal, he had finally met someone who understood him. Now it seemed he’d been lucky enough to meet another; he doubted it would be enough to get him through this if they didn’t find the boss again, but... well, it was a start.

He reached out a filthy, bloodied hand and gripped Murdock’s fingers tightly in his own, no words needed to say what he wanted the captain to know.

 ___________________________

In the end they reached a compromise. Face would try for one more day on his own, and if he achieved nothing, then tomorrow, they would all go out. BA didn’t say anything, was fed up of being babied, was fed up of Face acting like a baby, but he could see that something had happened while he was sleeping, that Face seemed to be teetering on the edge of something, that Murdock seemed to be even more careful and attentive around him, and resolved to hold his tongue until he got chance to talk to Murdock alone.

He also noticed, however, that Murdock was standing up to Face more, and that Face, surprisingly, was taking it. Murdock wouldn’t let him leave the warehouse that morning until he had cleaned himself up a bit, changed out of the ruined suit, eaten the left over chilli that was warmed through carefully on the fire and let Murdock treat the new cuts and scrapes that littered his skin. And when all that was done, Face did look a bit more human, had slightly more colour about him and didn’t look like he was in danger of falling down at any second.

Murdock seemed calmer too, more in control which BA was pleased about. But the second that Face had slipped out again, BA found his pilot watching the lieutenant walking away, worrying at the skin on the back of his hand again and BA slipped a comforting arm around his shoulder, grabbing those busy fingers with his own and wishing that there was something he could do to distract Murdock from the emptiness and the worry while Face was out searching for the boss. 

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 Next Chapter

Murdock wiped more of the grease paint from under Face’s eyes and tutted for probably the fifth time in as many minutes. Face sighed, “Murdock, buddy, you’re starting to sound like a clock. What’s the problem?”

Dabbing at the bullet wound on Face’s head a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary, Murdock frowned at him as he answered. “You know what the problem is Face, I don't see why you have to go wandering about the city on your own! It’s not safe!”

Face sighed and his eyes wandered over to BA who had managed to get a fire going in the dank and dismal shelter they had made under the arches of a dilapidated railway bridge. It was late afternoon, and they had hitched a ride on the next freight train that had rumbled past after phoning Bunter from the forest. Face hadn’t been too worried about where it was going, had only been interested in getting into a built up area, finding some supplies and moving out after Hannibal, but was quite pleased to find himself in Omsk. Omsk was a reasonably big city, on a major train line as well. Russia was fucking huge so it made life so much easier if they were somewhere with major transport links.

“HM, you know we need some gear, and you know it makes sense for me to go on my own. You and BA don't speak the language, you’d stand out. The last thing we need to do is draw attention to ourselves!”

“The las’ thing we need is to be here at all!” BA grouched as he poked at the fledgling fire, “Shoulda called an extraction and got the hell outta here!”

Biting his lip, Face swallowed his retort. They’d been over this again and again and again in the last four hours. He obviously wasn’t going to change BA’s mind on that front.

Murdock shot a nervous glance between the two of them and decided a swift change of subject was in order, “So, Facey, how come you speak the lingo anyway? You been livin’ out here and not tellin’ us?”

Face shook his head, “Nah. Too fucking cold for me. There was this nun in one of the orphanages I was in, she taught me.” It was still awkward, discussing this type of thing with anyone other than Hannibal. He knew it was only a matter of time until he started getting the long, pitying stares from Murdock if he talked about being an orphan for too long. He hated the long pitying stares.

To his surprise, Murdock just laughed, “What, Sister Helga? Bet she was a barrel full of laughs!”

“No!” Face couldn’t hold back the smile, “She was American. Sister Mary-Catherine if you must know. But she had lived for years in some Russian convent in Paris.” He’d liked Sister Mary-Catherine, she’d had a sense of humour, something a lot of priests and nuns seemed to be missing.

“Right. So just Russian then, you don’t speak anything else?”

Face shrugged, suddenly a little self conscious. The truth was, he spoke a lot of languages, it was just something his brain seemed hard wired to do. Sister Maria had taught him Spanish, useful when you lived in California. And since he’d joined up he tended to collect a little bit of the language of whatever place they went to. If he had enough time before they went out he would even buy one of those CDs and listen to it while he ran, on the plane over, even while he slept. Either way, his brain just seemed to soak it all up.

“A few different ones,” he answered vaguely, “Comes in handy, you know?”

Tilting his head sideways, Murdock just looked at him with a thoughtful, “Hmmm,” sensing the deliberate vagueness.

“Right!” Face got to his feet, “I’d better get going, stuff to get, you know?”

Murdock tried one more time, “You sure one of us shouldn’t come with you Face?”

Face gripped his arm, “Buddy, this is what I do, okay? Requisitions officer? I can do it in my sleep. Two hours, three max, and I’ll be back with everything we need.” His expression darkened just a little, “And if I’m not back in six, you use the Sat phone and call in an extraction. Don’t waste time looking for me, the boss is the one running out of time. When you get back to base, find the General and tell him everything. Okay?”

“Face...”

“I can look after myself, bud. You go get the boss. Promise me now?”

Murdock nodded miserably but Face just beamed at him, “Okay! See you later then guys!” and he ducked out of the shelter and strolled confidently along in the rain, singing softly in Russian to himself.

Watching him with an anxious writhing snake in his belly, Murdock didn’t notice BA until the big guy was standing right behind him, one hand resting lightly on his hip.

“Don’ worry about that fool,” the deep reassuring voice in his ear told him, “He so jazzed up at the minute he thinks he’s indestructible.”

Murdock sighed loudly. That was exactly what he was worried about.       

_________________________

“BA,” Murdock wound his fingers together in worry, “it’s been five hours, he said he’d be back in three!”

“I know what he said! He also said to wait six hours before calling an extraction!” BA paced to the front of the shelter again and looked out into the dark night and the driving sleety rain. “We give him another hour like he said and then we make the call.”

“We can’t just leave him!” Murdock felt like he was being torn ten different ways. “What if he’s in real trouble?”

BA rubbed at the deep frown lines on his forehead as he tried to come up with an answer that would calm Murdock down. Truth of the matter was, though, they were caught between the frying pan and the fire, and BA couldn’t see how they could get out of this without third degree burns.

“Look, fool-” he turned to look at Murdock, but spun back, hand on his gun, as a movement to his left caught his eye.

Suddenly Face appeared out of the darkness; two refuse sacks slung over his shoulder and a nasty purpling bruise rising up around his eye.

“Problems?” BA asked blandly as Face pushed past him and into the shelter.

“No,” Face shot back, “but we need to get a move on, we have a train to catch.”

“Do it in your sleep, huh?” BA smirked as the leant against the bricks of the arch, “What happened Faceguy, you sleep walk into a wall?”

Face whirled around and BA was more than a little taken aback by the wild edges to his eyes, “Someone tried to rob me, okay?” Face ground out, “And right about now I bet he’s wishing he hadn’t! So drop it and get changed ‘cause we need to go!”

Face had already changed out of his black out gear and was wearing a black donkey jacket which he stripped off to reveal a perfectly cut black three piece suit and dark blue tie. Murdock froze in the act of unlacing his boots and stared at his friend, who, even with the black eye, looked like he was ready for an expensive night out. Face took off the black beanie, dusted with silver rain drops and shook out his hair. Murdock swallowed. It wasn’t hard to see what the boss saw in him...

“C’mon!” Face chivvied them, “We’re getting picked up real soon!”

“Picked up?” Murdock queried as he yanked his own suit from one of the sacks, “Thought we were getting a train?”

“We are,” Face smiled at him and for once it wasn’t that cold, empty smile, “And what’s that above us?” He pointed at the roof of the arches, “The tracks, boys!”

“So why we have to wear these fancy togs?” BA moaned, lifting his own dark grey suit from its bag, “If we just hitching another ride on a dirt train?”

Face turned to bestow his most gracious smile on him, “Ah, but Bosco, that’s the beauty of it all! It’s not just any train. I’ve scammed us a First Class compartment on the Trans-Siberian Express and it will be swinging by to collect us in...” he glanced at his watch, “ten minutes! So let’s hustle!”

______________________________

“You’ve got the compartment I asked for Uri? Right at the end? Out of the way?” Face asked in perfect Russian.

“Of course!” Uri, the Head Provodnik looked offended as he led the team down the corridor, “That was the deal, right?”

Face nodded and hurried the other two into the cabin as soon as Uri opened the door for them.

“This First Class Faceman? Hell, I’d hate to see Economy...” BA grumbled as he squeezed into the tiny cabin with its four bunks.

Face ignored him and he pulled the door closed behind Uri, glancing along the corridor as he did so, and reached into his pocket pulling out a roll of tightly furled Rubles. He held them out to the Provodnik who frowned suspiciously at them and then looked up at Face’s set expression. “This is not the amount we agreed,” his frown suddenly lifted and he leaned in a little closer, uncomfortably close in such a confined area, “Have you changed your mind about further... exchange of favours?”

Recoiling so fast he bumped into BA, Face glared at the man. “No. You’ve got all you are getting from me on that front. Think of this as insurance. You get half the money now, half when we disembark safely in Irkutsk.”

Uri frowned again, although Face wasn’t sure which part of his answer had upset the man, “How can I be sure that you will pay up in Irkutsk? You could just disappear into the crowds.”

“We could.” Face agreed, “But then you would call in the authorities, and as I explained earlier on, we are very keen to keep a low profile.”

Glancing quickly at BA, Uri could see why.

“Alright,” he relented, “But don’t think I won’t report you, if you try anything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Face smiled his shark’s smile, and Uri stepped back to the door.

“I will be on duty all the way to Irkutsk,” there was an uncomfortable leer on Uri’s face, “If you change your mind about the method of payment.”

Face stepped forward and firmly pushed Uri out through the door, “I won’t,” he replied and slid the door shut, locking it at the same time. He stood for just a second, head bowed, breathing deeply before he turned back, and found himself looking straight into Murdock’s eyes.      

___________________________________

Murdock kicked back in his bunk and watched Face as the lieutenant stared listlessly out of the window at the black night passing them by. BA was softly snoring above them, but so far Face had resisted falling asleep, even though Murdock had offered to take first watch.

It had been an interesting couple of hours, starting with the mad dash along the tracks to the start of the bridge, and then a twenty minute wait in driving sleet wondering when the damn train was going to arrive; it seemed that timetables in Russia were more voluntary than anything else. He had been cold and miserable, glad of the donkey jacket Face had got for him, but still chilled to the bones by the wind and the sleet. Face, crouched in the bushes beside him, hadn’t moved or made a sound the whole time they were waiting. His eyes were fixed constantly on the distant track and he didn't even move to wipe the melting sleet off his face.

Eventually, just as Murdock was beginning to wonder if frost bite was setting in to his toes, a pin prick of light in the distance announced the arrival of their train.

“It’s here,” Face murmured. “Now we just need to wait for it to slow right down before it crosses the bridge and we are on.”

Just as promised, the train slowed down before crossing the ancient and crumbling bridge, and the three scrambled aboard, met at the rear door of the guard’s van by the huge, leering Uri who looked a little too like Lurch from the Addam’s Family for Murdock’s sense of comfort. He hadn’t liked the guy at all. Hadn’t like the way he had sneered at BA as if the big guy was something he would like to scrape off his shoe, didn’t like the look he gave him, running his eyes up and down the suit that Murdock could never wear like Face in a million years, but most of all, he didn't like the leer he gave Face and the way he stared at his XO’s arse as he walked ahead of them down the guard’s van.

Then came the very interesting conversation in the cabin. The place was warm and dry and comfortable, if not huge. But it also had a kettle and some tea and coffee, a mini fridge and a sink which Murdock was looking hopefully at, having not seen hot water for a week now. BA’s comment to Face had been uncalled for and deliberately cutting and he had received a sharp kick in the shins for his words from Murdock, but Face hadn’t seemed to notice. Of course Murdock couldn’t understand the hushed conversation between Face and the Provodnik, but he could understand expression and body language, and it seemed to him that Face was most uncomfortable in Uri’s presence, while Uri himself seemed very comfortable indeed in Face’s. Too comfortable. It made Murdock wonder what the price of this cabin had been...

And now Face was staring out of the window in silence, and had been for the best part of an hour, rejecting every attempt Murdock made at conversation. It was making Murdock nervous, and when he got nervous he got jittery. And when he got jittery he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t keep still, and he either ate too much or not at all, and sometimes he started seeing things out of the corner of his eye and sometimes he heard those voices again and sometimes he could even feel those fingers on the back of his neck, the ones that-

“Murdock, buddy...”

Face’s voice snatched him out of his thoughts and Murdock glanced at his XO is surprise and then down at the back of his hand which was stinging and he noticed the scratches and the way his finger nails were still worrying at the skin there, and he smiled apologetically, folding his hands up under his arms to keep them still.

“You okay?” Face asked him gently.

“Sure!” Murdock smiled at him. “You?”

He had expected a false platitude from Face, the full, shit eating grin and a smooth lie to slip out, but instead Face just stared at him, his blue eyes wide but expressionless and whispered, “I can’t lose him, HM...”

Murdock felt his heart clench just a little and he shifted from his bunk to sit up alongside Face, their legs pressed together, thigh to thigh, and slipped his arm around his friend’s shoulder, pulling him tight. “You know we aint gonna let that happen now don’t you?” Face leant into him a little and Murdock warmed at the trust he felt in that one, tiny movement; sometimes Face was like smoke, impossible to grasp when you really needed to...

“I don’t think you get me, Murdock,” Face’s voice was slow and clear, as if he were talking to a particularly stupid child and he shifted his head around so that he could look Murdock right in the eye. “I can’t lose him. I will do whatever it takes to get him back. Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

Murdock felt a chill settle in his stomach and he suddenly knew without a doubt that he’d been right in his suspicions over the price of their safe passage to Irkutsk. He tried to keep his face neutral, but it was hard and Face must have picked up on something in his expression as he frowned, pulling out of Murdock’s embrace and muttering, “Don’t judge ‘til you’ve tried it, HM. What would you do if it was the big guy?”

Now it was Murdock’s turn to frown, “What?” he muttered distractedly.

Face stared at him, weighing him up, “You can tell me you aren’t shagging and I’d believe you, ‘cause I’ve never seen any real evidence that says you are, but don't try to tell me you don’t love him, ‘cause that’s written all over your face. His too.”

Returning the stare for a moment, Murdock nodded sharply. “Still tryin’ to work it all out,” he muttered, “All new, you know?”

Face nodded and reached out to rub his friend’s shoulder, looking more like himself then he had since Hannibal had been taken, “You’ll get there, buddy,” he whispered, finally lying back and closing his eyesoth get there soon enough.”

Murdock sat back against the wall and watched as Face drifted off into much needed sleep.   

______________________________

 Next Chapter

All three of Face’s shots must have been true, as within ninety minutes they had caught up with the abandoned lorry. BA stood watch while Face and Murdock combed through the cab and the rear, finding nothing that told them who they were dealing with, where they were headed or even if Hannibal had been inside or not.

Once they had finished with the lorry, they scoured the surrounding area, each looking for some sign that would indicate where their quarry had headed out on foot.

“Face!” Murdock’s voice rang out in the night and Face hurried over to join him as he crouched staring at the vegetation at the side of the road. It was trampled, a swathe about two meters wide running directly off the road and into the forest.

Face followed it with his eyes as far as his NV scope would allow, then he glanced back at Murdock. “Yeah, it’s them, must be about twenty of them to make this much mess.”

BA appeared at their sides, “You sure it’s them?”

Face just stared at him, “I just said so didn’t I? Can’t you smell how fresh it is?”

Murdock inhaled deeply and could detect the faint aroma of crushed grass stems, “Why do you think they’re not sticking to the road, Face?” he asked, unconcerned as to whether Face would snap or not.

“Dunno,” Face murmured, carefully dusting through the footprints at the edge of the road with his fingers, “Maybe they were worried about being spotted, not that this is a major freeway or anything. Maybe they’re just taking the most direct route to where they are going, following a GPS signal or something. Maybe they think it will be easier to hide from us in the trees.”

A cold smile settled on his lips and Murdock shuddered. If that’s what they thought then they were very, very wrong.

Suddenly Face’s hand reached out and snatched at something on the ground, Murdock and BA leaning over to see what he’d found. Face was silent, turning the object over and over in his fingers before finally holding it up for the others to see and Murdock sucked in a breath: a bracelet made from knotted green paracord, the first indication they had had that they were on the right trail.

Face’s expression was grim as he straightened up and slipped the bracelet on over his own wrist, “He’s still alive and he knows we are coming, guys. Let’s go get him.”

Murdock and BA straightened again, adjusting their packs as Face took a reading from his GPS, “Plan?” BA asked curtly.

Flicking him a quick glance, Face checked his ammo and tightened the knife holster around his thigh. “SBD, big guy, silent but deadly. We track them, catch them up, take ‘em out one by one.” He looked into his teammate’s faces, “No one hears us, no one sees us, no one is left alive. You got that?” They both nodded, not surprised; it had been obvious the way this mission was going the second Face had slit that first guy’s throat. “Okay,” Face was calm and steady; totally business-like, “I’ll take point. BA go left, Murdock, right and stay within sight. 

They set off, fanning out in a triangle formation, Murdock and BA to Face’s left and right, Face following the trail of crushed vegetation. Not a sound came from any of the men. From time to time, Face paused and turned to check they were still there, but they moved like ghosts, silent but deadly; just as Face had ordered.

They had pace though, Face was moving them on all the time, pushing forward, knowing now that Hannibal was just in front of them, almost in reach, waiting for them to come and get him. Yes they needed to be silent, but they also needed to be fucking fast.

An hour later, Face suddenly froze. Murdock and BA, both of whom had been travelling with one eye on their XO also stopped. Face didn’t move and the forest lay silent all around them. BA tried his hardest to keep perfectly still but it was hard, he had stopped in an uncomfortable position, his front leg was already cramping up, he wondered what the hell Face was playing at.

Slowly, slowly, Face moved, just his arm, keeping it below the level of his shoulder but out to the side where he knew the others could see it. Two fingers pointing forwards and right, then ten, three fingers pointing forwards and left, then ten and three. BA frowned, two guys ten metres to the right, three guys thirteen metres to the left? No way. The forest was completely silent; there was no way that Face could know that.

Then there was a noise, just ahead of him an almost imperceptible creak of a branch and BA stopped breathing. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Face drew his knife out of its holster, holding it in his left hand while his Berretta nestled in his right. BA followed suit, drawing his weapon so slowly so as not to make a sound. He caught Face’s eye and the almost imperceptible shake was there, Not yet. Wait. He waited.

Slowly, three shapes loomed up and out of the bushes in front of them. They must have thought they’d heard something coming, had ducked down to see what came out of the bushes towards them but given up after all this time of seeing and hearing nothing. Almost at the same time, two more shapes appeared from near Murdock’s position and BA’s heart started hammering even harder. He watched, hardly daring to breathe as the two sets of men turned and walked out of the bushes and into the path of cleared vegetation, not three meters from where Face was crouched next to a gorse bush. They were speaking in Russian and BA could not understand a word they were saying. Not until he heard one word,  Американец, American. They were hunting for them.

He glanced at Face and saw that he had pushed himself as close to the gorse bush as he could without making any noise at all, BA knew he would have his gun and his knife ready, as would Murdock, but they needed to be still. They needed to wait and see if they could get out of this undetected, even if the three of them could take these five guards out, a fact BA felt fairly confident about, the noise would alert the others, make getting Hannibal back much less of a possibility.

The Russians were sloppy though. They were obviously falsely confident that they were alone and stood, still only three meters from Face, lighting cigarettes and laughing amongst themselves. BA watched his XO uneasily. He knew Face had been setting a fast pace for a reason. Knew that if Hannibal was loaded into some other kind of transport before they had the chance to catch him up then they would probably never see him again. BA was starting to worry that the kid was going to do something crazy here, decide to take all five of them on, himself, just to make sure that they had chance to get going after the boss again. BA watched him carefully, knowing that if Face moved he would have no other choice but to follow.

Time ticked on. BA’s entire left leg was numb now, he hoped to hell he wouldn’t have to make any sudden movements as he didn’t think he’d be able to even stand. Without moving his head, he switched his eyes from Face, and tried to spot Murdock in the undergrowth over to his left, but could see nothing.

Suddenly, movement. BA’s flicked back to the Russians who were edging closer and closer to Face, still talking loudly amongst themselves. Then everybody froze again. BA gripped the handle of his handgun tightly and silently slid the safety off. One of the Russians pointed, but not at Face’s hiding place, back up behind them, they way they had come almost half an hour ago now. BA silently turned his head, wondering if they were being flanked, if someone was coming up behind them, had been following them all this time. Then he heard it, the rustling of leaves and then a soft thud, well behind them in the forest. The Russians readied their guns and took off in a spirit towards the noise, each one of them running so close to Face that they could have stroked him as they passed... BA continued to hold his breath.    

Within thirty seconds the sounds of their mad dash through the trees had faded and BA looked over to see Murdock slip silently from the forest across from him and make his way over to where Face still crouched. BA joined them, cursing the pins and needles in his leg.

“You throw those stones, HM?” Face whispered, even the breath in between his words sounding far too loud in the heavy stillness of the trees.

A wide grin split Murdock’s face, “Sure did. They were getting far too close to you for my liking muchacho.”

Face nodded, eyes still fixed on the trees behind them, “Thanks, buddy,” he patted Murdock’s arm, “But they are still out there, we should double back and finish them.”

There was a beat of silence, two beats, and Face missed the glance that flashed between Murdock and BA before Murdock spoke again, his voice carefully controlled. “They’ve gone, Face. We need to push on after the boss.”

Face looked up at him and Murdock could see the indecision etched all over his features, “But what if they realise we’ve slipped past them? They come up behind us and we are in the shit boys.”

“You don’ need to kill everyone, Face,” BA grumbled, “Don’ you ever listen to the boss?”

Instantly furious, Face flashed around to stare at BA and Murdock rolled his eyes at the big guy, his hands on Face’s biceps, trying to smooth things over, “Leave it, Facey,” he whispered, “Those guys are gone. Let’s get Hannibal back.”

For a moment, the tension in the air was almost choking, but then Face seemed to sag, just for a moment before turning around, leaving the Russians behind him and focussing on the boss instead. “Okay,” Murdock could hear the stress in his voice, “We move on. But,” cold blue eyes were back on BA, “any hostiles we see ahead, even if they are out walking their Grandma’s fucking dog, we take them out. We’ve lost far too much time here as it is to spend forever creeping around them.” Silence. “Understood?”

“Sure thing, buddy,” Murdock’s voice was deliberately light but BA just scowled at him and turned back to his position.

“Let’s go,” he growled, “we need to get the boss back.”

The pace was tighter this time. Face was painfully aware how much time they had wasted as they waited for the scouting party to pass them, and he had to keep forcing away images of Hannibal being loaded into the back of another lorry, a car, a chopper, a fucking cargo plane... had to keep forcing himself to be aware of everything around him, knew he would spot any hostiles before the other two but needed to make sure he spotted them before the hostiles spotted him.

Maybe another hour passed and the sky was starting to almost imperceptibly lighten far away in the east when Face froze again. He motioned forward this time. One hostile, twenty metres. Murdock squinted into the darkness but could see absolutely nothing, could hear nothing, hell, he opened his mouth slightly, couldn’t even taste the fucker. But if Face said he was there, then he was damn well there, how his buddy did that trick Murdock would never know, but he was always right.

He watched as Face signalled them to be still and started his own silent advance. Glancing further to the right, Murdock watched BA settle down behind a bush, gun drawn in readiness, and then forwards again, where Face had now melted straight into the trees.

Straining his ears Murdock listened. He knew what Face was going to do, wondered if he would hear a strangled cry, a thump, an aborted call for help but there was nothing, nothing until the muted bird call that signalled that he should proceed once more.

Within a minute, Face loomed into sight once more, calmly wiping his knife clean on the grass and a shudder ran down Murdock’s spine. He hadn’t really known Face that long. Six months they had been together, and it hadn’t started well, Murdock knew that at first, Face hadn’t really liked him much at all. In retrospect, that business with the blow torch probably hadn’t been so wise, but Face had smelt of gas, and Murdock was only checking his theory out. Those damn pink pills he’d been on at the time probably hadn’t helped either; they’d made it so hard to concentrate on anything. How he’d not killed them all in that chopper he never really understood.

So, yeah, Face obviously hadn’t liked him much to start with, but now, Murdock smiled to himself, he and Face were buddies. Proper buddies, like Murdock hadn’t ever really had before. Face just seemed to get him, didn’t just look at him like he was a Martian or something, well, okay he had those first few weeks, but not anymore. And Murdock got Face. He knew he annoyed the shit out of BA, but that was only because BA couldn’t see through all the crap that Face was hiding behind. Murdock on the other hand, had always been good at seeing stuff that wasn’t there, and so he had understood Face from day one. Knew he was sharp as a dagger and insecure as all hell. Knew he was in love with the boss and the boss obviously loved him back. Knew he was just that little bit off centre, too much of an adrenalin junkie to be entirely normal, knew he loved the rush of the job. But he also knew, and this was the thing here, he knew damn well that Face hated the killing.

Murdock frowned as Face sheathed his knife. So, if Face hated the killing so much, just who was this guy, calmly steeping over about the tenth corpse he’d made just tonight? He shook his head. He wasn’t sure about the answer to that question, but he sure as hell knew that he hoped this new guy wouldn’t hang around too long.

They pushed on, the trees around them thinning, forcing them to slow down, be more cautious. It wasn’t long before Face motioned them over to him, his eyes fixed on something up ahead of them. Murdock and BA arrived at Face’s side at the same time. “We are right behind them,” his voice was more like a breath, “We need to fan out, pick them off one by one. It won’t be dark for long, we need to move fast. Any questions?”

BA and Murdock shook their heads, but Murdock knew that BA’s dark expression was probably very similar to his own.

There were seventeen guards and it took little over half an hour to whittle that number down to eight. They targeted the guys on the perimeter, sneaking in, silently dropping their mark and retreating before they were seen. Murdock tried not to think too much about what he was doing, he knew that he would talk to the boss about this later and Hannibal would convince him that he had done the right thing, but just for now he would have to suffer the unease he felt about taking a life. He hated the killing; just like Face.

Face. Murdock looked up as Face slowly appeared from the branches of a tree. Soundlessly lowering himself down by his arms, right behind his latest target. Murdock watched as his best friend suddenly lifted his legs and, almost too fast to see, had them wrapped around his target’s throat as he dropped them both to the ground. He knew that Face had broken the guy’s neck as they fell, it wasn’t really that that had bothered him, it was the grim, satisfied expression that Face was wearing that renewed those chills.

Their luck had to run out at some point, however. As much as the Russians were spread out through the trees making picking them off almost too easy, there was always going to come to the point when they noticed their force had been cut in half. There was nothing wrong with the way that Face had taken that last guy out, it was just bad luck that one of the others happened to turn around at the point that Face had dropped from the trees.

Murdock hadn’t even seen the other guy, fortunately BA did, but as he was just not quick enough to stop the warning shout before he dropped the guy. Everything stopped; then it started up at top speed as machine gun fire raked around them, shouting in Russian from every direction, people running, utter pandemonium.

Face swore under his breath and held his position, trying to work out what the fuck was going on and still trying to get some kind of a visual on the boss. He listened intently to the shouting as he heard Murdock and BA starting to return fire. His Russian wasn’t perfect, but it was damn good, and then he heard it, exactly the information he had been waiting for, revealed by people who were too arrogant to think that maybe someone else spoke their language.

“Найдите их. Убейте их. Я съеду с целью.” ‘Find them. Kill them. I will move out with the target.’

Face was after that voice in a second. There was no way on earth he was going to let Hannibal get away from him here, not after he had done so much, so much that he knew would come back to haunt him in the future, just to get to this point. He had no time to get to the others, tell them what he was doing; he just hoped they would work it out for themselves. Hannibal would. He and Hannibal had this way of just knowing all the time what the other was going to do. Face had never met another person in his entire life that knew him like Hannibal did. To even contemplate a life without that... No. That was never going to happen.

He scrambled through the undergrowth, the need to be quiet warring with the need to be fast, and then up ahead in the early morning gloom, he saw them. It was definitely Hannibal, and Face was relieved beyond all words to see that the boss was up on his feet, moving easily, didn’t look damaged at all. His hands were shackled though, they appeared to be attached together to a collar around his neck, and as Face steadily closed the distance between them he burned with the desire to destroy anyone who would ever dare try to humiliate John Smith in such a way.

The trees were thinning all the while, and as Hannibal’s captor, a thin, balding man, almost as tall as Hannibal himself, dragged his prisoner out into the open Face knew his chance was coming. He doubled his pace, risking being heard just so he could get close enough for a shot. One shot was all he needed, it would be quicker with his hand gun and for that he needed to be closer. One bullet in the back of the head, and Hannibal would be free.

Face skirted slightly to the left. Seeing that Baldy was holding Hannibal on his right, gun in his left hand jammed up under the boss’ chin, Face knew that it would be easier to stay out of sight to the left. This was it, his big chance. If he played the game just right from here on in, then he would have Hannibal back within minutes. If he screwed up, however, and that guy pulled the trigger on his damn gun... Well, Face wasn’t going to think about that just now. 

He was almost close enough, almost, almost and then Baldy turned, swinging Hannibal around with him, his own damn gun still rammed into the boss’ neck, but Face kept going. His heart was hammering up in his chest but he kept walking, gun held up in both hands, sure and steady, knowing that this Baldy guy didn’t really want to shoot Hannibal, had kidnapped him for a reason, was only going to use his gun as a last resort. Knowing that Face continuing to walk in on him would be creeping him out, taking all his control out of the situation. With a bit of luck, he would even take his gun off the boss and point it Face’s way, he knew if that happened then Hannibal would have the little shit on his back before he could do anything and then Face would shoot his fucking brains out.

“Stop!” the voice was heavily accented but Face kept on prowling, closer and closer, refusing to look at Hannibal knowing he needed every single ounce of concentration to pull this off. “Stop, damn you!” Baldy yelled again; panic edging his tone, “You are here to save your leader? I will shoot if you step even one pace closer!”

“No, you won’t,” Face wasn’t shouting, didn’t need to and knew he sounded more dangerous when he didn’t, “Your boss wants him alive and anyway, you know that if you kill him, then I’ll kill you.” That wasn’t a risk that Face was prepared to take, but there was no way Baldy was going to know that. “The US government doesn’t want the colonel there in anyone’s hands but ours, he knows far too much. He stays with us, dead or alive, that’s the message I got.”

Face’s bluff seemed to work as Baldy backed up a step, dragging Hannibal across the rough stony ground, eyeing Face unsteadily, “That might be the case,” he answered unsteadily, “But my employer is not a man to be disappointed, I will die rather than return empty handed!”

Face stopped, narrowing his eyes as he clocked the change of expression on Baldy’s face. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure that the guy wouldn’t follow through on his threat after all, the desperation on his face was clear to see, and desperation was a very dangerous emotion. He checked his distance, glanced at Baldy’s gun, sticking so hard into Hannibal’s neck it was drawing blood and wondered if he could get this shot off, nail the bastard between the eyes before he could pull the trigger... Realised with a sinking heart, that no, he couldn’t.

He kept his expression carefully empty though  and kept his gun up as he tried to come up with another bluff, “You know we’ve killed all your men?” his voice was so cold it almost made him shudder, “Can’t see your boss being too pleased about that, even if you do manage to hang onto the colonel there. Three US soldiers, wiping out your entire force...”

Baldy just laughed, it was a thin, nervous sound but one that Face knew he meant, “Hired help, that’s all. Untrained thugs every one of them, and we still managed to steal your leader right out from underneath your noses last night!”

Face bristled at the insult and followed Baldy as he took another step backwards, up the shallow embankment of the railway tracks behind him.

“Listen, bud,” Face growled, getting sick of this verbal sparring, “There’s only one way you are walking away from tonight and that’s by letting go of the colonel and dropping that gun. Otherwise whether we lose that US property or not, the crows will be picking over your dead body by sun up. So wise up and drop your weapon before I drop you.”

Bull’s-eye. Face could see that his threat had hit home. Bastard didn’t need to know that Face had no intention of letting him walk anywhere tonight, whether Hannibal was freed or not, either way, he was a dead man. But then, in the distance, the whistle of a train sounded and somehow Face just knew that that changed everything.

In a couple of seconds Baldy had hauled Hannibal up onto the tracks and was standing staring down at Face with a wild expression on his features. “Okay soldier,” he breathed through a shaky smile, “You either drop your weapon here or I turn the colonel into chopped meat. I’m sure your leaders wouldn’t want that. They’d at least like a body to prove you have done your job properly.”    

For a split second Face knew that the terror was clear in his expression before he managed to wipe it clean, but it was too late, he knew Baldy had seen it, knew that he had the upper hand now. Baldy smiled, his thin lips stretching over his grey face. “Put the gun down, soldier,” he ordered, “and I might just let you live.”

Before Face had chance to answer, Hannibal’s voice broke the silence. “Is this it then Lieutenant?”

Face startled, his eyes flicking to the boss as the acidic tone of his words bit into him.

“This the sum of your grand escape plans for me?”

Both Face and Baldy were stunned into silence. Face could barely take in Hannibal’s pale but thankfully unmarred features as his cold words slammed home in his brain. “Fuck, Lieutenant, my sister’s gerbil could plan something better than this! You always were a fucking waste of space!”

Nobody moved, no one even seemed to breathe. Face was aware of movement behind him, but he didn’t turn and by the way his head was still attached to his shoulders, guessed it must be Murdock and BA. Hannibal’s words drove a spike through his heart, that’s what the boss thought of him? A waste of space... Useless. A failure. He felt the ice running through his veins, making its way up and into his arms, spreading down reaching for his fingers. It was going to make him drop the gun...

Then he looked up into the boss’ eyes for the first time and it was like a burst of fire shot between them, instantly vaporising the ice, banishing it to another dimension. Of course. The boss was playing. Of course he was. Face wasn’t quite sure how this game was supposed to work out, but he could do this, he and the boss had run many, many scams together over the years. Of course the boss didn’t think he was useless. They were a team, the best, and this game wasn’t lost yet.

He fixed a very pissed off expression onto his face, “With all due respect, sir,” he muttered, “If you hadn’t been so monumentally stupid as to get yourself caught last night then we wouldn’t be in this fucking position now!”

He heard a muted gasp behind him which he knew came from BA. Of course the big guy would have no idea about what was going on just now, but that was fine, that would play into Face’s hands as long as he kept his reactions for show and didn’t try to get involved.

“You insubordinate wretch!” Hannibal yelled, inching forward and slightly away from that gun barrel and suddenly Face understood the game. Confuse the living hell out of Baldy, give him a show to watch, make sure he is so distracted he doesn’t notice that the gun is no longer in Hannibal’s neck and then Face can shoot his head off. The shot was already lined up, Face didn’t even have to re-aim, knew if he pulled that trigger the bastard was dead. Just needed to boss to move a little bit more...

“Somebody sold me out!” Hannibal yelled, “It was you wasn’t it? Sneaky little bastard, think you’d move quicker up the ladder without me around? This is fifteen years ago, all over again!”

Baldy frowned, his eyes flicking between Face and Hannibal in confusion. “Guess again, Grandad!” Face spat, “It wasn’t me! But if I ever get the chance to meet the guy who did sell you out, I’d love to shake his hand!”

Everything happened in a split second. Hannibal lunged forward, looking for all the world as if he was going to rip Face’s throat out, Baldy, utterly confused by the dialogue between the two men let him slip away from the gun. Face’s finger squeezed on the trigger just as he was wiped out from behind, BA’s solid bulk crashing into him, knocking his aim, firing the bullet close enough to Baldy’s head that he felt it whistle past his ear, waking him up to the fact that he was being played. Murdock hauled BA away from Face just as the corporal raised his fist to lay his XO out and yelled out in warning as a huge goods train suddenly appeared from between the trees, steaming down the tracks towards them, whistling frantically as the driver spotted the commotion on the tracks.

In two steps Baldy was back where he had been, right in the middle of the tracks, gun jammed into Hannibal’s neck, wild eyes flicking between the three American soldiers in front of him and the rapidly approaching train.

“Move back!” he yelled, utter panic in his voice.

Face was frozen. On his knees in the mud unable to process what had just happened, how close he’d been to pulling this whole thing off, and now...

“Move back!!!” Baldy screamed again, the train not fifty metres away now, its whistle sounding almost continuously, “If you don’t move I’ll stand right here! Let this train crush him!”

Face knew the guy was speaking directly to him, had already felt Murdock and BA back off, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t even think straight. All he could do was stare into Hannibal’s blue eyes as they fixed him across the five metres that separated them. The boss looked scared; he’d obviously run out of ideas. Face couldn’t get his own damn brain to work either, all he wanted to do was tackle that bastard, take him down with his bare hands, but he was frozen in the mud, knowing that as soon as he took one step towards Hannibal, the boss would end up with a bullet through his neck.

The train was thirty metres away.

“Facey,” there was a voice in his ear, hands on his shoulders then his elbows, standing him up, pulling him backwards, “Come on buddy, we can still do this, don't give up, let’s just do what the man says.”

Face let himself be dragged back, aware, vaguely that this might be the only thing that saved Hannibal’s life. His eyes didn’t leave the boss’ face the whole time though. Not when Murdock yelled, “Okay you fucker, we’ve moved back, now you move!” Not when Baldy glanced up at the rapidly approaching train one last time. Not when he grabbed Hannibal tightly by the collar around his neck and leapt backwards, dragging them both off the tracks as the train moved right into their sphere, and because he was staring the whole time, he saw Hannibal’s mouth move, saw the whispered, “I love you,” as the goods train thundered in separating them completely.

Hannibal disappearing from sight shocked Face back into action, he dived forward, Murdock’s reaching fingers just brushing the back of his pack as he threw himself, face down, on the ground at the edge of the track, sharp stones digging into his cheek as he looked under the train, eyes desperately searching for some sign of the boss.

Between the flashing wheels, he saw a movement to his left and his gut clenched as he spotted a now unconscious Hannibal being hauled into the back of an old Red Army jeep partially concealed in bushes on the far side of the tracks. As he stared, horror struck, the engine roared into life and, spitting mud everywhere, the jeep spun out of its hiding place and turned onto a mud track heading away from them. Face scrambled for his gun, hoping against hope to be able to take out a tyre or even the petrol tank again from his position on the ground.

In seconds he was ready, gun held steady in his arms, eye at the scope, heart pounding in his chest and he pulled the trigger. He heard the sharp pop of the gun firing, followed milliseconds later by a high pitched metallic ping and then a searing blinding heat erupted across his temple and then everything went black.

“Retreat!” Face snapped, his voice sounding oddly flat in the thick mist of the night.

“What!?” BA’s incredulous retort however was perfectly clear.

“Fucking retreat!” Face yelled back, “Now, Corporal, move your ass!”

BA didn’t move and Face was forced to halt his own feet and turn to stare back at his teammates.

“They got the boss, man!” BA hissed at him, “An’ we don't leave no one behind!”

In three furious strides Face was right in BA’s personal space, almost nose to nose with the big guy, “Yes, they got the boss,” his voice a dangerous whisper, “Which makes me in command now, so follow my orders and fucking retreat!”

BA adjusted his grip on the semi-conscious Murdock and leant right into his XO’s face, “We don’ leave no one behind!”

For a second Face didn’t move, but then he whipped his hand gun up and into BA’s face, his expression cold as ice, “You follow my orders or I take the Captain and put a bullet through your leg. Your choice BA.”

The stand-off was as dangerous as each of its components and for a horrific moment Face thought he was going to be called upon to follow through with his threat but then BA barrelled past him, almost shoving him to the ground as he went, dragging Murdock with him, “You a piece of fucking shit, Faceman!” he spat as he passed.

Face only narrowed his eyes, took one last glimpse of the huge wooden house, built to house some rich Russian aristocrat back when the empire was at its strongest, now a rotting ruin of its former glory and took off after what remained of his team.

~~~

Twenty minutes of yomping found them back at the jeep. Face had only spoken once, to ask if BA needed a hand with Murdock, and since BA didn’t respond in the slightest, he hadn’t bothered again.

BA helped a slightly more sentient Murdock into the back of the jeep before stamping around and ramming himself into the driver’s seat. Face, still trying to make sure that he had covered their tracks was forced to sprint after their vehicle, throwing himself in the back next to Murdock as BA simply took off in a shower of dirt with clearly little intention of waiting for his XO.

Face only sighed and gathered a quiet and worried looking Murdock into his arms, staring out of the back of the jeep as BA’s furious driving took him further and further away from his boss.

~~~

It was a forty minute drive back to the old trapper’s cabin they were using as a base. No one spoke the entire trip back, but at least Murdock looked to be completely back with them by the time BA screeched to a halt outside the tiny wooden shack. He threw open the driver’s door and stamped around to the back of the jeep, just about hauling Murdock out and across the mud to the door. Face lay back for a minute, letting the silence fill him as he stared out at the fog shrouded forest all around them, how the fuck BA had even found his way back here, Face had no idea at all. His heart was still hammering, he knew that Murdock, ear pressed to his chest the whole way back, must have been able to hear it, and he wondered if it would ever settle before they got Hannibal back. And they would get Hannibal back, he was damn sure of that. He just didn’t know how yet.

The silence was comforting and Face considered staying the night out in the jeep. He had no desire to return, alone, to the cot that he and Hannibal had shared for the past three nights, and he had less desire to have to face up to BA’s anger all night. But. He was CO now, he had a responsibility, Hannibal expected things from him, and if there was one thing Face never did, it was disappoint Hannibal.

He sighed long and hard before dragging his aching bones out of the jeep and trudging back to the cabin.

~~~  

Face expected BA to be in one of the foulest moods known to men. What he didn’t expect was the big guy to seize him by the throat the second he stepped in the room and throw him so hard against the wall that he heard the sound of splintering wood.

“What you go and make us leave the boss behind for, Face?!” Blinking through the pain fogging his eyes, Face could see the utter fury in BA’s expression, “We don’t never leave a man behind! Never!”

Fingers ineffectually scrabbling at BA’s iron grip, Face eventually gave up and chopped both of his hands down into the juncture of BA’s neck and shoulders, shocking and hurting the big guy enough that he let go and Face staggered out of his grasp.

“You a coward, Face!” BA spat, one hand rubbing his neck, the other stabbing an accusing finger in his XO’s chest.

Face held back the right cross that his arm was desperate to swing at BA and stepped forward instead, fists clenched at his sides, “We had no choice, BA! We were compromised! We had to make a tactical retreat!”

“Fuck tactical retreat!” BA hardly ever swore, “You was scared man, so you run! Leavin’ the boss in the shit!”  

“We were outnumbered!” Face retorted hotly, “Murdock was out cold. We had no idea where they had taken the boss! Hell, BA, we don't even who the fuck these bastards really are!”

“He wouldn’t have left you.”

The line was delivered coldly. It was calculated to cause maximum pain and it hit its mark squarely. For a second, Face sagged so much he almost went down, but just as Murdock reached for him, he caught himself and straightened, looking BA right in the eye, “I don’t give a fuck what you think,” he asserted, “All I know is that I am in charge now, and you do what I say.”

They stared each other down.

“We regroup, we plan and then we go back and get the boss the hell out of there. But we do it my way,” there was nothing but hostility in Face’s eyes, “You got that Baracus?”

For a moment, it looked as if BA were setting up for round two of the argument, but Murdock’s soft voice simply saying, “Bosco...” stopped him and he made do with the smallest of tight nods instead.

Face suddenly looked and felt exhausted. He spared one solitary glance for the rumpled sheets spread over the two cots Hannibal had pushed together on their first night here, and then went straight through to the back room where all the photos, maps and intel were spread all over the table, taped to the walls, scattered across the chairs. Surreptitiously scooping up the little army commando that Hannibal used as his marker for the plan and holding it tight in his fist, Face spoke to the others without looking at them. “BA, you take first watch, come for me in two hours to take over. Murdock, you need to get some rest, you can go last.”

Then turning his back on the others he looked down at the remains of Hannibal’s ill fated plan and started scrabbling around in his brain for one of his own.

_____________

BA seethed as he walked the dark and silent perimeter; he still couldn’t believe that Face could be so cowardly and shallow. When he’d first met Lt. Peck that fateful day in Mexico, he had been far from impressed. His reckless stupidity had endangered both the mission and Hannibal’s life. And because Hannibal had been so desperate to save his worthless ass, BA had ended up with a bullet hole in his arm and a pancaked van. Then, when they had snatched him at the very last minute from the flames of his own funeral pyre, he was so buzzed up that he thought the whole thing was some brilliant joke. When he didn’t have his tongue down the throat of Tuco’s wife that was.

BA had wondered what someone as obviously brilliant as Colonel Hannibal Smith was doing with such a waste of space as Peck for his XO. His question had been answered about three months in when he and Murdock had returned to their shared quarters to find Hannibal nailing Face’s ass over the kitchen table... Hannibal had been utterly mortified while Face, rather predictably, thought it was some huge joke. BA had been more than a little shocked, more at the reaction of his dick at the sight than anything else, while Murdock had just nodded serenely on his way to switch the TV on and asked them to keep it down at bit.

So, now BA understood that the boss just kept Peck around to satisfy his more intimate needs, which was weird but at least it cleared everything up. And BA supposed that Face could hold up his end of a mission when he needed to. They’d only been out a few times so far and Face had been pretty quiet, sticking close to the boss most of the time, but at least he hadn’t done anything that got any of them into trouble. Until tonight of course.

As BA checked and rechecked the silent forest around him, he pondered what exactly it was that had made him so damn furious that they had left Hannibal behind. He conceded that Face had made a few good points, they were outnumbered, caught well on the back foot, and Murdock had been knocked out cold when BA had dived on him as machine gun fire suddenly raked their position. Given those circumstances, it actually did make sense to pull a tactical retreat and regroup. So, why did BA feel so royally pissed about the whole thing?

The answer hit him an hour and forty minutes into his watch and it was exactly what he had said to Face earlier on, ‘He wouldn’t have left you.’ And that was it. Hannibal would not have left Face. BA would have had to drag him, bodily away from the damn kid to make him leave. Anyone willing to shoot a perfectly innocent civilian just to make sure they got to their damn fool XO in time to save his neck wasn’t going to turn tail and run out on him the second the bad guys snatched him in some godforsaken Russian forest. Why? Because the boss obviously had feelings for the guy. Feelings that Face, clearly didn’t return.