It had literally been the longest two months of Hannibal Smith's life.
Truth be told some parts were a blur to him - their escape from prison, obtaining the engraving plates, the chaos at the L.A. Docks...he was so high on adrenaline and with the hope that finally everything was going to be okay. He was going to break his boys out of prison, get back the plates, and they were going to be free again, reinstated back into the Army with clean records and the largest fucking apology that anyone had ever received from the U.S. Government.
That was one plan that definitely did not come together.
Even though he knew he shouldn't he blamed himself. He blamed himself for not seeing what Morrison was doing to him and his boys. He blamed himself for even going on that last damned mission to start with. They had been ordered to stay the hell out of Baghdad, but he went anyway. Begged to be the one to go in after the plates instead of Black Forest. Had to go once that bastard Lynch put the thought of those engraving plates being in enemy hands into his brain, which he supposed was the plan the whole time. He just had to be the one to ride in once again and save the day.
And now here they were, the best of the best that the Army had to offer, hiding out in a shitty hotel room in a part of L.A. that even the LAPD would not respond to in the case of an emergency. All four of them stuffed into one room with two double beds, taking shifts on the stained loveseat which they had arranged next to the window to be on the lookout of any stray law enforcement cars which may have took the wrong turn leading into the neighborhood as the rest of them tried to sleep through the night while still being alert enough to be up at a moment's notice and ready to run like hell.
Hannibal knew that they were all hanging on by a thread. None of them had an issue with their close quarters. They, as a team, had lived together, slept together, even showered together so many times over the years they were comfortable with each other in a way that would make most people cringe. It had been two long months on edge with the knowledge that at any given moment they could be captured and thrown back in jail. Even in the war they had the safety of the FOB to fall back on in between missions for downtime, to recharge and relax and prepare for what may be ahead of them.
They needed a safe place. Hannibal knew that now. A safe place where they could relax for five minutes without looking over their shoulders. A safe place where they could recharge and gather their thoughts. He had to come up with a plan to keep them safe and provide for them - to figure out where to go from here. He had failed them so much over the past year and he couldn't keep letting his boys down. He had come to terms with the fact that it was possible that they may never regain their freedom - that they may be fugitives for the rest of their lives and, for the lack of a better term, they had to get their shit together.
This was one plan that had to come together. And there was only one person left outside the three men in his company that he could truly trust not to betray him. One person who he had promised himself he would never drag into this mess no matter what.
Never say never.
"Face," he whispered to the man in bed next to him. "You awake?"
"Yeah. I don't think I ever went to sleep. We can't keep going on like this Boss."
Hannibal turned his head to look at the younger man who had already turned his head to face him. "I've been thinking the same thing. I have a plan."