Chapter 11
It wasn't the owl's hooting or the switching of the horse's tails, or even the rustling of leaves in the upper trees with the breeze that Face was focused on. Laying there silently, eyes closed, his chest rising with slow, relaxed breaths as he feigned sleep, he pushed the crickets, frogs, and every hint of nature there was to the background until all that was left was the sounds of military movement around him.
Face had made sure to play nicely with Decker for the rest of the night. Eating his MRE with little commentary over the dry cardboard texture and resisting the urge to argue with Decker about where the colonel had insisted he set down for the night. Hell, Face hadn't even pointed out that with as many men as Decker had traipsing around these woods for him, a two man watch system for four hours would have been far superior to the one guard every two hours he'd opted to go with.
There was logic in that system - two hours allowed for very little time for the guards to fall asleep or lose focus on the fact that Face probably wasn't sleeping as soundly as he appeared. However, Face was a betting man, and human nature was predictable and lent itself to laziness. One man keeping watch, with no one to engage his mind or keep his focus were odds that Face liked.
He kept a knowing smile off of his 'sleeping' face and turned over on the hard ground again, putting his back towards the fire and away from as many eyes as possible as his fingers finally finished shaping the metal edge of his hijacked pen-cap. It had taken him longer than he liked, but with eight people there to catch him, it was slow progress at best. Working by feel, stealing the occasional glance to make sure he wasn't completely screwing up his one chance at escape. He'd finally gotten the metal sheer shaped enough that it would be effective.
He'd done this before. Spent hours practicing, making sure that he could make a lock pick out of anything he managed to get his hands on. It was a simple survival skill. One that had kept him out of jail and the hands of unsavory types countless times. Peering around the campsite with barely slit eyes, Face shifted again, a restless sleeper with the cuffs on. He'd been dong it all night and Dawson barely threw him a glance. Everyone else was sleeping soundly. Face laid there for a while longer, silent and still before shifting again so that he could watch Dawson without any worry that the MP would suspect he was awake.
It was simply a waiting game now. He was in no position to sneak up on the guard - especially here in camp where it wouldn't take much to wake the rest of the squad up. But something had to present itself. Young and brash, inexperienced, it was just a matter of time before someone slipped up, and Face would be there waiting to capitalize.
But it needed to happen quick. His time was limited and that noose around his neck was getting tighter with every hoof-stomp back towards the trail head. And whatever Decker had waiting for him back in civilization - well, it would be a whole lot easier to get lost in the woods for a couple of days.
Face's ears perked as the sound of twigs cracking and being pressed into the earth cut into his thoughts. Dawson took a couple steps forward, stretching and looked in his direction. What was he doing? Face shifted again, rolling onto his side, his back towards the guard, he let his hands fall away from his body - cuffs in clear view as Dawson came towards him.
Heavy, sleep driven breaths escaped him, as Dawson's movement's came closer, stopping momentarily at his feet. Finally, after a long moment the footsteps started up again, making their way away from him. Face cautiously opened his eyes, this time fully, watching as the guard disappeared into the woods. Perfect!
His hands worked quickly, fingers well practiced and more than skilled unlocking the left cuff in what he would have liked to think was record time. He didn't bother taking the time to unlock the right cuff, instead, locking the free shackle around his right wrist. He could get them both off later, once he was free and clear of this giant mess. Face let the silence linger in the air for a moment, taking stock in that calm before he pushed himself up, moving with trained stealth. He almost glided down the same path as Dawson had taken.
Stupid kid. He could the hear guard up ahead, a solid stream of noise. For all of the guard's stupidity, Face had to smirk. Having your prisoner escape while you took a bathroom break on your own instead of getting another guard to take your place... where did Decker find these jokers?
It was quick, all things considered. He was five feet away from Dawson when the noisy stream came to a stop. Three feet away - a zipper pulled up and the light clanking of a belt being clasp together rang through the night air. Face came in so close that he could feel the heat radiating off of Dawson's back.
He looped his arm around the guy's throat, his elbow in line with with Dawson's chin, Face grabbed his other bicep and flexed his muscles tight. His back arched against the struggling man, squirming, raspy breathes escaping him as he put up a shocked and uncoordinated fight. A few seconds later and the guard was limp in his arms.
Face stayed still for a moment, listening for anything other than the silence. But there was no sounds breaking through the night air to indicate he'd woken anyone up. He loosened the choke as he lowered Dawson down to the ground. Blood was already flowing back to the man's brain. The unconsciousness would only last a few minutes at the most. Seconds if he was really unlucky, and that wasn't something he was willing to risk right now.
Face clenched his fist and slammed Dawson upside his temple.
The camp was still silence except for his own heart beat pounding in his ears. Face moved quick, patting Dawson down, he reached for the gun, then thought better of it. If Decker was close enough for gunfire, he was done for anyway. And he wouldn't be taking the chance of hunting any animals out here for the next few days anyway. No point in helping Decker catch him again. That was it, Dawson had nothing useful on him.
Retracing his steps back to the camp, Face concealed himself behind the trees as he made his way over to the horses. They had taken all the saddles off of them last night. Luckily the bridles had stayed on or he'd be in a world of hurt right now. Hastily untying all of the horses' reigns from from tree branches, he left them standing there. Soon enough there would be enough commotion around here to scare at least a few of the horses off.
Once he got to the last horse, he held onto the reigns, passing them over the beast's head as he patted the large animal's muscular neck. Great, how the hell was he supposed to get on this thing without a saddle? The horse was going to make noise no matter what he did, but it was his only chance of putting any distance between himself, Decker, and that stockade.
He threw a glance back at the sleeping group, still no movement. A deep steadying breath as he grabbed the reigns and a lock of the horse's mane. His other hand trying to find a good hold along the horse's spine. There was none, the thing apparently did not come with a built in handle. They made it look so damn easy in the movies. But now, all he had to work with was sinewy muscle and a horse that wasn't offering any tips when it came to mounting it.
He furrowed his brow, bending his knees and hoping like hell this worked as he jumped up. Arms pulling his body further up the horse's side until he could swing his leg over. Whoa! The stupid animal started walking before he'd even managed to find a lick of balance. Stop, damn it. He shifted himself around the horses back, his body tense with the effort to stay on and not simply fall right off the other side. Knees clenching into the horse's sides, hands pulling at the coarse hair. Hell, he didn't have time to figure this out, he needed to get out of here. He dug his feet into the sides of the animal as he fought to stay on and the horse kicked into gear.
He could hear the other horses stirring behind him as he careened through dark forest. He stayed low to the horse, hanging on for dear life as he was forced to trust the animal to not run them into a tree. Even if his escape was discovered right away, it would take Decker a while to get the horses saddled up – caught again if he was lucky. He wasn't crossing his fingers though, there weren't any other horses following him and he knew enough from Murdock's Range Rider fixation that horses were definite herd animals.
Slowly, Face found the horse's stride, forcing himself to relax on top of the animal as they raced through the forest. He didn't care what direction they were headed, as long as it was away from Decker. At a full gallop, he'd be able to leave them behind, eventually ditch the horse, and in a few days, he'd find his way out of this Godforsaken land to civilization where he could get a hold of Hannibal and put this whole damn ordeal behind himself.
XXXXX
They were on the road again and Face was staring into nothing. He leaned his head back against the headrest and took a couple deep calming breaths. This wasn't looking good. He'd seen no sign of Hannibal and the chances that his Colonel even knew that he was in trouble were slim to none. Nothing that he could bank on, that was for sure. He tried to keep the worry off of his face, but it was getting more and more difficult as those thoughts of slamming barred doors, shackles, prison uniforms, and unfriendly guards weighed heavier on his thoughts.
"That gas station should be coming up in a couple miles." Decker's voice cut through. Gas station. His brow creased at that. It meant that they were stopping this never ending ride into doom and gloom. He pulled his head off of the back of the seat and sat up, looking out the window as he rolled his shoulders. He could feel Decker's eyes on him as he moved and turned to catch his gaze.
"Going somewhere?" Decker warned.
"Five star resort, right?" he deadpanned.
"Only the best, Lieutenant."
Face let it go. The last thing he wanted was another reminder that he was on the losing end of this. Instead he found himself looking out the window again – how many things had he not savored? Speeding down the road in his vet with the top down and a beautiful woman sitting next to him. That beautiful woman naked in his arms later that night. The care free exchanges between the team. Sitting on a beach front and watching the sunset as the wind blew through his hair, waves crashing in the distance. Or watching the airplanes just outside the fencing with Murdock. So damn many lasts that he hadn't remembered to hang on to.
The car slowed as Crane pulled them off the road into the gas station. Decker getting out of the car the moment it came to a stop. Face could hear him giving orders to his crew - gas up the vehicles, get food, keep an eye out for the team. He stopped listening - it was a tiny, remote gas station surrounded by a hillside covered in trees.
Face pulled his head up as Decker opened his door, pistol in hand. He kept it trained on Face as he took a step back from the door. "Slowly, Lieutenant."
Face raised a brow, he hadn't been expecting the gun. Giving Decker a slight nod of understanding he struggled to get out of the car. Eventually Decker would have to put the gun away to rearrange the cuffs, but for now, Face stood there, waiting for direction. It didn't take long, Decker pointed to the left of the building.
Face took it at a casual pace – the attendant was filling the gas tanks, Crane was mapping the rest of the route, two of the guards were standing watch in areas that wouldn't give them an advantage if they were attacked anyway, while the other two had gone inside for food items. He stopped a couple feet short of the bathroom door.
Decker marched past him, opened the door and motioned him inside. Face sighed, tired of having his every move watched, he stepped inside. It was a one room bathroom- toilet and sink, no stalls, no windows. Face watched with feigned disinterest as Decker searched the room.
Finally satisfied that there was nothing Face could use to his advantage, Decker returned to Face and spun him around, he unlatched Face's left wrist, and ratcheted the empty cuff closed dangling from his right. "You have two minutes."
Face turned around as Decker closed the door on him. His mind raced as he used the facilities. First time his hands had been free from the start of this whole thing. He stepped up to the sink, ran the water until it was warm. He caught himself in the mirror. God, he looked like hell. His hair was stringy and limp, eyes gaunt with exhaustion, his lip still scabbed over from the night before and a nice fist sized bruise along his left cheekbone. Even the beard didn't do much to cover the marks up. He scrubbed his hands, dirt refused to come up from his nails, his wrists encircled with dark angry bruises from the cuffs.
He gripped the side of the sink and stared at himself. Templeton Peck was not about to spend the next twenty years in a stockade asking 'what if' he had only made a break for the woods. He smirked at that. After this last week he'd spent in the woods and hating every last moment of it, now, first chance he got, he was concocting a way to run right back into them. He finished drying his hands. It was just Decker – it shouldn't take much to gain the upper hand – just long enough to make it to the trees. Then it would be easy enough for him to disappear.
Face took one last look in the mirror before he turned and opened the door. Decker was standing just to the left of the doorway. He kept his demeanor cowed, then with a burst of energy closed the gap between them, he dug his shoulder into Decker, driving him back against the wall, his forearm pressing into the colonel's throat, he grabbed the gun from the holster, "Don't move, Colonel," he growled.
Decker didn't move – his eyes narrowed into a hard unrelenting glare, "Stupid move, Lieutenant." There was more of warning in his voice than Face would have expected considering the gun in his hand. "What do you think you're going to do? Shoot me?"
Face leaned into his throat. "You think I won't?" He cocked the gun back, "Remember that?" he bluffed, "get rid of the sedative. Left hand." The order was low and menacing and desperate.
Decker moved – too quick- and not for the sedative. Decker was off the wall, pushing Face off balance and before he even knew what happened, he was against the wall. His right arm twisted up behind his back as he was pressed into the hard cinderblock. "Just how stupid do you think I am, Lieutenant?" Face struggled against the hold. "And just how far do you think you would get?" He pulled Face's left arm down and latched the cuffs around his wrist again. "My men have orders- shoot to kill. Is that what you want?" - Face was done. "You'd rather die than take the consequences for your actions? That sure is a fucked up way of life, Peck."
God damn it! No! "Fuck you!" Face closed his eyes- that was it, his last chance was gone. He screamed in his head. This is not how things were supposed to go. They didn't get caught – more importantly he didn't get caught. A cry of frustration escaped him as his world crumbled.
Decker pulled him away from the wall, long enough to flip him around and push his back against the cinderblock building. The colonel stood there, pulled out a clip from his pocket and reloaded the gun that Face had swiped from his belt. He'd been played. How fucking stupid was he? Why hadn't he noticed how light the gun must've been? Face went from the gun to the woods, to anything but Decker and that gun standing in front of him, so triumphant. His breathing coming to fast as his chest tightened. How...
"Did you really think it would be so easy, Lieutenant?" he asked pointedly. "I was hoping you'd learned by now. But every time I try to give you an inch, you try to take a mile. Makes it very hard to sympathize with you."
He locked his gaze on Decker – a man who was going to take everything away from him, through gritted teeth asked, "What do you want, huh?" He felt more exposed at that moment than he had in a long time. He was done, they both knew it and no amount of bravado was going to do anything. "A thank you?" He stared him down, but it wasn't aggression this time. "You're going to get enough accolades for locking me up without me groveling over a bathroom break."
Decker shook his head, his voice calm and controlled beyond what Face would have expected. "I don't want a thank you. But I don't want to have to shoot you, either. And it's a long way back to the base."
Face shook his head as he pulled his eyes away from Decker. The colonel didn't need to see the emotion that was spilling over, and looked to the woods. If only – something. Anything else had happened. "What would you have done if I'd simply cold cocked you, or set that fucking sedative off in your throat?"
"But you didn't. You went for the easiest, and most obvious solution. Now," he pulled Face away from the wall and gave him a push back the way they'd come, "get back in the car."
Face didn't resist, walking back to the car as the heavy weight of prison set in him. He stood back while Decker opened the door and took one last look around the relative freedom before a heavy hand weighed on his shoulder. With a deep, sonorous breath, he ducked his head and got back into the car as Decker shut the door on him.