"Here comes Face." Hannibal looked out the window of the plane. His lieutenant was approaching the aircraft at a jog. "Murdock, get ready to take off!"
A prompt "You got it, Colonel!"answered him from the cockpit.
The submarine had brought them as far as the gulf shore. From there they had to make their way back to Langley by plane. Stockwell had called them and told them to wait for the one he sent. By the time the call came through, Face had already scammed a plane for them.
Frankie, sitting across from Hannibal, craned his neck to see out the window. "Y'know Johnny, I really don't understand Face sometimes."
Hannibal raised his eyebrows. "Why's that, Frank?"
"He'll complain about being tired after working for half an hour helping B.A. build something," Frankie said. "but when he gets beat up by jerks like Martien, he doesn't say a word to us about feeling bad. It's not natural, man."
"That's just how Face is." Hannibal replied with a shrug.
The door slammed shut, a shout of "Let's go," echoed up to the cockpit, and then they heard Face's footsteps coming toward the cabin as the plane began to taxi down the runway.
"Well don't you think you ought to ask him if he's okay?" Frankie pressed.
Face came in and sat down next to Hannibal as the plane took to the air. The Colonel waited for the roar of the engines—and Murdock's customary take-off yell—to die down before he spoke. "Good work today, Lieutenant."
Face smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Colonel."
"You had it pretty rough out there, Face." Hannibal added. "You all right?"
"Yeah," Face said. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Hannibal nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer.
Silence followed. A grunt from the sedated B.A. in the seat on Hannibal's other side was the only sound in the cabin. Frankie exchanged an impatient glance with Hannibal, wondering why the Colonel wasn't pressing the issue with Face.
"I think we ought to let Stockwell know that we're on our way back," Hannibal said after a moment. "Face, go tell Murdock to contact Stockwell over the radio and let him know we won't need that plane he's sending."
Face scowled. "You mean you actually care if he knows?"
"Well we wouldn't want him to think we've run out on him, would we?" Hannibal grinned.
"True." Face conceded. He stood up and headed toward the cockpit "I'll go tell Murdock."
When he had gone, Hannibal turned his attention back to Frankie, who was frowning at him.
"He says he's fine and you're just gonna let it go at that?" Frankie asked. "Don't you think you ought to show a little more concern for one of your men?"
Hannibal chose not to take offense. He calmly pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and put it in his mouth. Lighting it, he said, "Frank, once Face says 'I'm fine', only Murdock or Divine intervention can get anything else out of him."