Title: Failure
Author: sss979
Summary: It is impossible to succeed every time. Period.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Discussion of violence (does that need a warning? C'mon, it's A-team! lmao)
The lights had gone down long ago, all over the city. Out over the ocean, a few freighters lit up the darkness. But it was otherwise empty – a blank, black slate. My eyes slipped out of focus as I breathed in the warm, salty air, and I let them slide closed.
Failure.
I had never dealt well with it. The concept in and of itself was what my nightmares were made of. I didn't fail. I couldn't fail. It simply wasn't acceptable. Twelve years of straight As had led to a West Point 4.0. A commission had led to a promotion – then another and another in record time. Success after success had led to a reputation unmatched by any other officer. A place in the top general's circle of friends, a special privilege to be and do as I saw fit. I'd saved countless lives and fought countless wars. The war my country had waged against the NVA and the Viet Cong had been the least of it. I'd fought much more difficult and much more frightening wars in Southeast Asia. Wars that couldn't be measured by winning and losing, and wars that couldn't be fought with bullets and napalm.
The war of the mind – justifications and reasons why. The war of the emotions – the vicious determination not to give up. The never-ending battle to keep a fragmented, burned out, headstrong team unified and focused. To keep them hanging on. The war in my own soul – wrong decisions and bad calls that ended in bloodshed. Good calls that had ended the same way. People died in war. I'd never liked that they had to die on my account, at my say.
I certainly didn't like it when they died because I'd messed up.
They'd buried her this morning. Sixteen-years-old and stupid. She'd run off with the man that she'd thought she loved, and we hadn't been able to find her fast enough to stop the inevitable. The fact that there had been nothing we can do didn't help. Yes, she was probably dead before her father had even met with Mr. Lee. The quick check on their backgrounds and the race to Nevada hadn't made a bit of difference. Her father had known exactly where to find her; he just couldn't get her out and the cops had no real interest in hunting down a runaway across state lines. It wasn't our typical search and rescue. And we knew the chances weren't good. But on the off chance that it could've succeeded…
I let my eyes slide closed. The image of her mangled body was seared to the inside of my eyelids. It was an image I'd hoped never to see again when I left Vietnam. Bloody and mangled, tortured and broken. I remembered it well. I didn't want to.
I should've known no good would come of taking this case. The damage to my own mind paled in comparison to what it had done to the rest of the team. I didn't even want to think about that. BA had insisted on covering the body – crime scene be damned. I wouldn't be terribly surprised (would I even be upset?) if he hunted the bastard down and murdered him. Murdock hadn't said a word all the way back from the desert. He'd showed up at the funeral, offered a heartfelt "I'm sorry" and then was gone again. Handing the money back to the girl's grieving parents had probably been one of the hardest things Face had ever had to do in his life. Not for the sake of the money; it didn't have a damn thing to do with that. It was the price of the life, no consolation as they watched their daughter lowered into the ground.
I took in a slow, deep breath. One more mission. One more life – this one not a success. I'd give my team a week or two to lick their wounds. I'd give myself almost as long to find forgiveness. (The fact I knew I couldn't have done anything differently didn't make a damn bit of difference.) Then we'd move on. We had to. The next time might be different. Or it might not. But even if we never had another successful mission…
What the hell else did we have?