Chapter 21 - A man with no plan

Hey everyone. Another chapter. I'm almost done wrapping up this story. It was supposed to be a SHORT story. But for some reason, I didn't quite manage that.
This is chapter 21, and without realizing it, I worked on this for almost a year. I can't even comprehend it. It's because I'm a slow writer, and especially during periods with deadlines, I find it hard to concentrate and write more, though I keep longing for it nevertheless.

Here is another chapter. One that was quite difficult to write for me because there was a major issue to be solved. One between a disappointed lieutenant and his commander.
Officially, I also wrote a bit about B.A and Murdock. But I am going to put that in my next chapter because this chapter was getting a bit out of hand (in word count).
For now, this chapter ends with a classic A-team disguise. A bit overdone maybe, but for some reason, they always got away with it.

I'd love to hear your thoughts if you care to share.
Talk to you soon!

Chapter 21 - A man with no plan

When Dr. Carice Jones entered the room, she wasn't sure what she'd just stumbled upon exactly. Her nurse Daisy looked flustered at her arrival, and at the mention of her name, one of the A-team members - the cute one -appeared from behind one of the hospital beds with an apologetic look on his face.
On the beds, chained to the metal frames, she noticed the two unconscious men she expected to be the two criminals. And from the corner of her eyes, she could see another man - a cop by the looks of it - lying on the floor in the bathroom.
"Oh dear..." she thought. "What have you gotten yourself into, Carice?"
Then she turned to her nurse and the A-team member. What was his name again? Peck?

"I think some kind of explanation is in order," she said, raising an eyebrow while trying to keep herself calm and collected.

She didn't want to say it out loud, but things were suddenly looking quite different for her and her clinic if this news would get out. It wasn't just about harboring four wanted men anymore. Now the cops were involved, and one of them had been injured while on duty. Things were running wildy out of hand.
Not being fooled by the doctor's poker face, Face immediately stepped forward.

"I can explain," he said with a suiting tone of voice.

The cop stirred slightly on the floor, and Face glanced at him with a guarded look. Quickly making a decision, he took both Daisy and Carice by the elbow and gently led them out of the room, though with slight urgency.
"We don't have much time." He said in a hushed voice. "That cop is about to wake up. Let's go outside so he can't overhear us."
Dr. Jones sent the conman a quizzical look.
"We're going to fix this Miss Jones," Face assured her with a calm voice. "But I'm afraid we're going to need you more than ever now."
His blue eyes caught hers and looked at her intently yet almost apologetically.
Dr. Jones gave in.
"Alright, tell me what you need," she sighed.
Face beamed at her gratefully.
"Thank you, Carice," He said. "I will tell you my plan now."

And so he did.

Officer Stan was feeling rather dizzy, and sick, and highly uncomfortable.

Sitting up and leaning heavily against the cool tiles of the spacey hospital restroom, he wondered where the hell he'd gotten himself into. He'd woken up only a few minutes ago on a cold floor with the sight of two ladies fussing over him. He quickly learned that one of them was a nurse and the other introduced herself as a doctor and also head-physician of the clinic, but he'd already forgotten their names.

"Wh...What happened?" Stan mumbled for the third time while looking around with a dazed look. He rubbed the big lump on the back of his head absentmindedly and winced as it started throbbing painfully at his touch.

"You've had an accident in the bathroom, sir. Don't you remember?" Dr. Jones answered quickly while examining the man and checking his dilated pupils. "It looks like you've lost your balance and hit your head pretty bad."

The young nurse sat on her haunches next to the bewildered cop.

"Can you remember what happened?" she asked.

Stan needed a moment to let the words sink in before shaking his head.

No, he couldn't remember.
Fortunately, he completely missed the relieved faces of the women who glanced at each other briefly. This was exactly what they'd been hoping for, or they would've steered him into that direction themselves with some tips that Peck had given them.

"Just play the injury-card," Peck had said. "Tell him he can't remember things correctly with a bump on his head like that. You need to bluff but stay close to the truth. That makes the lie more convincing than anything."

For now, it looked that this scenario wasn't necessary. The cop had a genuine concussion and was suffering some real memory loss according to plan.

"Last thing I remember..," Stan slowly began with a look of concentration on his face... "is keeping an eye on two men I had in custody, and..."

Suddenly his eyes widened in horror, and without a warning, he scrambled back to his feet and headed heavily for the door under loud protests of the two ladies

"Calm down sir, you shouldn't move like that with a concussion,"

Ignoring them both, Stan stumbled into the room.

"Where are they!" he panted, looking around wildly.
"Where ar... oh...!"

At the sight of the two criminals lying chained to the bed, he calmed down again. Swaying wearily, he quickly leaned against the wall, trying to steady himself while cold sweat formed on his face. He felt nauseous and his face started to turn 10 shades of green.

"Sir you need to sit down," Dr. Jones insisted as she followed him and led him to a chair.

"B-But I got to watch them.." Stan stammered feebly.

"No worries," Dr. Jones said with a calming voice. "I've already called the police station to tell them what happened,"

"But I really need to keep an eye on them," Stan protested again.

"Help is on the way," dr. Jones assured him.

Besides..." the doctor glanced at the still unconscious and bruised men on the bed. "I don't think they will be running away anytime soon."

Convinced that that was the case, Stan then finally settled down.

Carice sighed in relief. She had indeed called the police, but not because she wanted to. It was Peck himself who'd advised her to do that. She'd been surprised at his plan at first, but the conman insisted that It would take away every suspicion from her and her clinic if things went according to normal procedure. The police didn't expect the A-team to be there unless the two thugs would wake up and start talking at some point. But he didn't expect them to, knowing that their own freedom was at stake too. They didn't know yet that Sartinaro and their colleagues were imprisoned. Face knew he was taking a risk, but he expected them not to blab about their mission to the cops unless told differently by their boss. Carice really hoped the conman's intuitions were right, but there was no other way to find out.
The moment Face went away to find some supplies for the rest of his plan, the busy lady had made the phone call while sincerely hoping that this adventure would turn out fine.

Face was making his way to one of the storage rooms of the clinic. The good doctor had given him instructions and permission to look around and see if he could find the things he was looking for.
Meanwhile, nurse Darcey and Dr. Jones had their own little act to play-out, and it was important that he would be out of sight when they did.
It hadn't been difficult to convince the sweet nurse who seemed to be very keen to join into this new exciting venture. But Dr. Jones was having a bit more difficulty with the idea to mislead law enforcement. She reluctantly agreed to cooperate, mostly because her good name and the name of the clinic would be at stake. She was clearly worried now the police was suddenly involved, and it changed the situation a bit. But just like the conman had assured Murdock before, nothing was going to change really.
The team was going to stay invisible like nothing had ever happened. He only hoped that the doctor and the nurse were going to be convincing enough liars to do what was needed.

As Face finally found the storage room, he made sure that nobody saw him enter. The hallway was empty of people. The young lieutenant took the keycard that the doctor had given him from his pocket, and swiped it through the card lock. A soft beep, followed by a click, unlocked the door, admitting him entrance. As the conman stepped inside, the lights swooped on automatically. A dull beam of LED-light brightened the tidy room that was filled with all kinds of hospital stuff. The walls were neatly covered with storage shelves filled with equipment and medicine. There were utility storage carts, frame racks, cabinets and more.
Face noticed a wardrobe with hospital garments which triggered his interest. There was a stack of bowls, bedpans, emesis basins, and fine equipment all wrapped in sterilized packaging like syringes, tweezers, scissors, sutures, clippers etc. In the far corner, there were some boxes stacked. With the instructions of the doctor, who gave him this idea in the first place, Face knew exactly where to look. He made a beeline for a shelf with metal boxes in the back of the room and checked their labels.
There it was!
Face reached out and plucked one of them from the shelf. Opening them, a mischievous glint shone in his eyes. The box was filled with medium-sized plastic signboards, just like the doctor had told him. Flicking through them, he found the one he was looking for.

"Aha!" he said triumphantly while looking at the signboard and reading its contents.

This was perfect. Now all he needed was a doctor's coat, and one of those surgical masks.
This would do perfectly fine.

Hannibal peered impatiently at the red glowing traffic light at a busy junction. He plucked at the last remaining bits of his fake mustache and glue from his upper lip while his thoughts were drifting back to his team. He supposed that he was only 5 more minutes away from the clinic now.
Darn, that traffic light sure took its time. He really wanted to get back to the guys as fast as possible.
Hannibal's eyes strayed over the cars in front of him. Then suddenly, they narrowed at the sight of a police car that was waiting for the traffic light at the opposite side of the road to him. Hannibal scolded himself for his inattentiveness and grabbed his pair of dark sunglasses from the passenger's seat to place it on his nose. Knowing very well it did little to really hide his face, he watched the behavior of the two officers in the car.
Hannibal's tired brain was racing. He was sure that he'd left the police station unseen. No-one had followed him either. But with the police, you always had to be on your guard. You never knew when a cop was eager enough to follow the latest buzz on the most-wanted-men-list. Plus, he'd seen that the van had some frontal damage. That would attract attention too!

The colonel started to wonder if he'd checked both headlights to be working while observing every movement inside the police car.
By the looks of it, they were just receiving a call. One of the men picked up the radio's handheld and spoke intently while seemingly staring right back at the van.

"Come on," Hannibal thought, cursing the slow traffic light under his breath. "Come on Damnit! Turn green!"

Usually, he'd welcome a fun challenge like a hot pursuit with both hands. Afterall, it kept him keen and on his wits. But right now, he simply wasn't in the mood for it.
Just as he was playing with the thought to just take his chances and make a proper run for it, his wishes were granted and the light turned green. Hannibal wanted to pull up fast as he could, but before he could even do anything of the sorts, the police car in front of him had pulled up too with loud and blaring sirens.
Too late!
There was not enough time to respond. The car seemed to head straight at the van and then... took a sharp U-turn before heading into the other direction. The same route Hannibal was about to take.

Hannibal blinked for a second, just staring blankly after the police car. He felt completely flabbergasted and even slightly irked by its complete ignorance. Without realizing it, the jazz that had been building up deep inside his chest again. The colonel exhaled long and low and chuckled lightly. This surely had been a very odd day...
For a second there, he really thought he was about to 'enjoy' another cat-and-mouse-race. But as his eyes followed the speeding police car getting smaller, he just blessed his luck again...for now.

Loud honking from impatient drivers behind him woke him up from his referees. Coming back into action, the colonel pulled up quickly while a sudden feeling of foreboding settled over his heart.
Why were the cops going the same direction as he did? Were they heading for the clinic too? In a reflex, Hannibal pushed down the gas pedal deeply and started racing after them.

A few minutes earlier, at a certain traffic junction in a certain police car:

Officer Ken Segal fidgeted on the passenger's seat with a grumpy look on his face.

"Of all days...!" he began while clenching his fists involuntarily.

"Of all days, they have to pick 'today' to call us in for duty..."

Ken shot an angry glance at Wayne, his colleague who looked equally peeved while driving. Both men had been on a well-deserved day off, and both men had been called back for duty due to an emergency they hadn't been briefed about yet. Ken was feeling bummed out more than anything. Glowering at the traffic in front of him, he thought about his little birthday boy who'd been in tears when he had to leave for work so suddenly.

"I wonder what mayhem we can expect at the station," Wayne sighed.

"Apparently, they've rolled up a complete gang or something...I heard they called in every personnel available to deal with the situation. "

Ken folded his arms grumpily.

"I don't see why they can't finish them up on their own..." he growled, remembering the devastated look on his son's face again.

Ken glared at the traffic in front of them while they approached a red traffic light at a junction and came to a stop. He would be all too happy to emit his emotions on some random passerby who was not obeying the law in the slightest sense of the word.
Waiting for the traffic lights, he noticed a big black GMC van on the opposite side of the road that had some small damaging to its bumper and its headlight. Even though the light still seemed to be working, though barely, it was just enough to make him sit up and get into action.

"Care to check out that number plate?" Ken said while pointing at the van and reaching for the handheld of the car radio. "Looks like a broken headlight to me. That's violation of the law..."
Wayne's eyes followed Ken's hand, and he too looked at the van with narrowing eyes. Then he sighed.

"Come off of it, Ken...The light is still working..." he said, raising an eyebrow at his colleague.
Then seeing the determined look on his colleagues face he added: "But if you really feel like taking out your frustration on an innocent bystander...Well...Knock yourself out... It's only your job on the line..." he added with a well-dosed pinch of cynicism.

At this, Ken deflated in his seat. He shrugged while glaring at the black GMC as if it had insulted him personally.
Then the radio started crackling.

"Charlie 901 to Sierra 12, Code 8."

Ken and Wayne looked at each other for a second before Ken picked up the transmitter.

" This is Sierra 12. Go ahead Charlie 901"

" We have a Code Eight at the Jones Clinic in Birch city. We need a unit in that area."

"Go on," Ken said. "Who got injured?"

"Officer Lee was charged to keep surveillance on two suspects," Came the crackling answer. "He's been injured on duty."

"How bad is it?" Ken wanted to know.

"Apparently not too serious. Knocked his head pretty good. Suspects are still confined,"

"Shit, that's good ol' Stan for ya," Ken smirked, forgetting protocol. "Copy that. We're on it."

As he disconnected the call, Ken groaned bitterly. "This is just not our day...," he wined. "Now we gotta babysit Lee too?"

Wayne chuckled.

"Poor ol' Stan though. It seems he's making a mess of things once again."

"Yeah, he was better off when he was still writing parking tickets..." Ken said, shaking his head.

As the traffic light finally changed to green, Wayne turned on the sirene, pulled up the car, and quickly accelerated while taking a sharp U-turn with shrieking wheels.

Ken glanced one more time at the damaged headlight of the black van with an almost wistful look on his face. He would've really enjoyed checking its license plate and writing down a ticket for that one... just because he could...

Not realizing that he'd just dodged a bullet, Hannibal sped up and followed the cops as cautiously as he could manage. He made sure that he was keeping just enough distance between the vehicles to be able to see where they were going without getting too obvious. As expected, he noticed that the police was indeed heading for the clinic, and he noticed that they were heading straight to the front entrance. The white-haired commander decided that he wasn't going to follow them there and steered the van into a side road that would lead him to the back of the clinic instead.
Despite his worries, Hannibal chuckled quietly as he realized that it suddenly felt highly unusual to 'not' use the front door for a change. After all, it was one of his trademark moves, usually accompanied by some kind of pincer movement. But this time, Hannibal thought the better of it, knowing very well that pincer movements were quite out of place right now. The colonel quickly parked the van in the same hiding spot they'd dropped it before and vacated the vehicle with his sunglasses still on. It was his only disguise beside his cake-make-up that was covering the bruises on his face. And he was still wearing Face's suit.
Quickly checking the perimeter, he made his way to the back of the entrance of the clinic.
By now the sky was slowly turning into a deep orange, and it made Hannibal realize that the end of the day was finally approaching. The sun had already started to set, though it would still allow for a couple more hours of light before it would finally claim the day. Hannibal glanced at his watch. It had been a long day, and he had to hurry to find out what was going on with the cops and his team. He entered the clinic in search of the cops.
Knowing the building from his earlier visit, Hannibal quickly stumbled upon the entrance hall and also the two officers who'd been lead toward one of the hospital wings by an orderly. Hannibal followed them cautiously, making sure to keep well out of sight. He had no idea where his boys were, but following the cops might lead him to them. But then what? He didn't have a plan. Clenching his teeth together, Hannibal realized that he needed more information first before he could even come close to a plan! He had no idea what had happened. No idea what their score was...
The orderly, with the cops on his heels, then finally rounded a corner and was greeted by Dr. Jones who approached the men down the hallway.
Hannibal hid behind a huge potted palm and eyed the group from between the bright green leaves. He saw the doctor introduce herself and shake hands. She seemed a little nervous yet composed.
Forgetting about his surroundings, the colonel tried to concentrate on the conversation when a sudden hand from behind grabbed him by his shoulder. Hannibal could only just prevent a yelp and whirled around with his fist ready to strike. The man behind him dodged him with ease.

"You're getting slow, colonel," Face whispered while lowering the surgeon mask from his face and feigning a bitter smile. It didn't go unnoticed, but Hannibal was too relieved to mention it.
"Report, lieutenant," he whispered.

Face's keen eyes peered over his commander's shoulder at the group who was now moving toward the room that accommodated the two thugs and the injured policeman. "Follow me," he said in a low voice.

Raising his eyebrows, Hannibal did as ordered and Face led him to a door close to where they were standing.
The conman held the door for the colonel while turning on the light. The two men moved into a small space that was being used as a supply room for tools and other stuff. It was the same room Face had located earlier when finding out more about the two thugs.
Sinking down on a box of supplies, Hannibal uttered an impatient: "Well?"
After closing the door, Face sat down too while throwing a gloomy look at his commander.

"You first," he said with a hushed voice.

Hannibal slowly took off his glasses and observed his lieutenant more closely. The colonel wasn't surprised at this response and the lack of following his direct commands.
He'd been expecting and maybe even dreading this moment for a while and knew very well that he would have to face his friend and teammate one way or another.
But he hadn't expected it to happen so soon while being so terribly unprepared.
He sighed, feeling the sudden fatigue taking over again and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Understanding that his team wasn't in immediate danger right now (or else his lieutenant would have sung a different tune) he calmed down a little.
There was a long uncomfortable silence.
Face stared at Hannibal, his frustrations raging through his body, not sure where to start.

"I'm so angry with you right now!" He finally began with a trembling voice. "I could actually punch you in the face, you know that?"

"Well, why don't you?" Hannibal said calmly. "If it'll help you blow off some steam, who am I to stop you?"

Face stared at the colonel in disbelief. The rage in his body had started building up again. It had been a terrible day with lots of emotions, and this build-up anger... well,
this anger had to get out somehow.

"Maybe I will!:" he almost shouted while raising his fist. The calm demeanor of the colonel was infuriating him. How could he just sit there so calmly after leaving them alone at this clinic without any information? They had no idea where he went or what he was up to. There were no means to contact him when things went awry.
Of course, deep inside, Face had known exactly what his commander was up to. He was going to fix the situation with Sartinaro, eye to eye and tooth to tooth. But suddenly he, 'the Faceman', was left in charge with two injured friends, stuck in a situation and without any means to support his commander.

For a moment there, all the frustration of the last two days filled his mind. His fist lingered trembling in the air. Hannibal gazed at his lieutenant unmovingly. His face was composed. There was no sign of anger or fright, though Face could see a twinge of regret in the icy blue eyes staring back at him.
The colonel didn't even stop his lieutenant as Face finally made his swing at him.

"ARGH,F*CK! Damnit!"

Face yelped a muffled cry of pain as his fist forcefully, yet intendedly, hit the wall instead of the colonel's face.
Hannibal looked at him startled.

"Why! Hannibal!" Face almost yelled now, having trouble to keep his voice down. "Why do you always do this to me?"

There was a short pause again, but then Hannibal couldn't help himself and gave him a wanly smile.

"Well technically you did this to yourself," he pointed out.

"You know bloody well what I mean. Don't you try and evade me with witty remarks like you always do!"

Face sat back on a cardboard box, huffing audibly while clenching his probably fractured hand that showed red knuckles.

"It's because I'm so damn easy to use, right? An easy pawn in your game of Jazz" he said softly while shooting another dark look at his commander.

"Hasn't it always been like that? 'Face will fix it for you'. 'Face will ALWAYS fix it'... Well, let me tell you something, Colonel. Face fixed it again. And you know what? It sucked!

The conman stopped for a brief moment to catch his breath before continuing.

"You do realize I have feelings right? And Brains?! I can use them to think you know. You could at least have discussed things with me before marching off and sacrificing yourself for whatever crazy plan that got into that head of yours. Did you even think of that? Did you even consider that 'maybe' we could've worked out a plan together?"

"I came back…" Hannibal mumbled weakly.

"With sheer luck, knowing you!" Face scoffed.

"I needed to do this," Hannibal said, ignoring the spot-on remark his shrewd lieutenant just made.

"Do what exactly?" Face demanded to know.

He still didn't know what the colonel had done exactly, but he could take a wild guess.

"Did you just barge into the enemy camp and sacrifice yourself? And like what, Hannibal? Like some kind of captain of a sinking ship?!
That's not even close to one of your witty plans. That's just plain stupid while running on adrenaline and you know it.
And just for your info; We weren't sinking just yet.
You should've talked to us… You should've talked to 'me'!"

Face leaned back heavily against the wall, slightly out of breath but still fuming. His eyes locked with his commander's again and he searched them intently.

"I bet you didn't even plan on coming back..." he said almost inaudibly. "The note you left me told me as much…"

There was a long painful silence. Hannibal was astonished about how much his lieutenant had already understood about the situation he'd been in, even before he had time to elaborate on it. The colonel had patiently allowed his lieutenant to vent at him and pour his heart out. He didn't stop him, and in some ways, he didn't want him to either. He deserved it. All of it. He almost wished that Face had actually hit him instead of that bloody wall.

Of course, the colonel had expected his lieutenant to be upset with him. His actions had been a bundle of rash decisions from a man with no plan. A man who let his emotions get the better of him. A man who should've known better!
But didn't it end up alright in the end?
Sort of at least. Hadn't it all been worth it?
And most importantly, would he do it again if the situation called for it?

Hannibal played with this thought for a while and then looked at his lieutenant who was currently nursing his hand and accessing the damage with a slight frown on his face. The man looked tired and hurt.

"No…," Hannibal realized. He wouldn't do it again, not without discussing it first. Abandoning his team hadn't necessarily been a wise decision. It could've easily ended up the wrong way. And though he'd been willing to sacrifice his freedom and even his life for his men, he had to admit that Face had a point. With the team's combined effort, they could've waited until he'd come up with a better plan.

But…
What if they had?
Hannibal considered this scenario.
He knew the A-team would need to keep their heads low for a while to give his men some time to heal properly from their injuries. But the window to lay their hands onto Sartinaro would have become smaller and smaller the longer they waited.
Preferably, the colonel would've wanted to make his move 'before' Sartinaro had the chance to do the very same thing to them.
It was the exact reason that Hannibal had left the team in the first place. He had to get to Sartinaro while nobody expected it...While there was still a chance to talk.
Hannibal leaned forward with one elbow on his knee and rubbed his weary eyes.
Suddenly, he wasn't so sure if he'd made the right decision or not. The death of Sartinaro had been very fortunate indeed. But at what price?
The colonel sighed. His mind felt exhausted. He could go on, weighing all the options and comparing them until he got tired of it. But it didn't take away the fact that he'd left his men behind. Discussing it wouldn't change anything. Nothing could've prepared him from the floodgate that he'd opened the moment he let Face have his word. He hadn't realized how much his actions had affected the lieutenant who was trying hard to keep his emotions in check.

After another long pause, Hannibal decided it was time to speak up.

"Sartinaro is dead…" he finally said while locking eyes with his friend.

Face's reaction was as expected, but his expression was hard to describe. It was a mixture of both horror and euphoria which was quickly replaced by worry and wonder.

"Y- You haven't…?" Face stammered, his handsome features finally settling with a look of disbelief.

"No!" Hannibal said quickly but firmly. "I didn't kill him if that's what you mean."

"But ..how…"

"All in due time, Face. I can tell you that any immediate danger has subsided for now. There are other things that I need to tell you first," Hannibal said.

Face looked taken aback for a second, but then composed himself and stared at the colonel questioningly.
Hannibal hesitated shortly while trying to form the right words in his mind. He wasn't really good at this sort of thing.

"First of all…," He started. "I want you to know that I assigned you this task with the knowledge that I could trust you completely to handle the situation the best you can."

Face opened his mouth to interrupt the colonel, but Hannibal quickly waved a hand to silence him.

"I knew I could trust you to take care of B.A and Murdock and make the right decisions. You are an irreplaceable part of our team. Invaluable. I've never underestimated you and I never will. And for what it's worth, I don't consider you a mere tool to use when it's convenient to me."

Finally calming down a bit, Face just looked at the older man with interest.

"I don't tell you this enough, Templeton, but I would trust you with my own life when the time comes. I know you got my back. The same goes for the others. I acknowledge that I haven't exactly made the right choices today. Or maybe I have... I don't know... If anything, I can't change the past events. But trust me if I tell you this; I did it all to protect you guys. I wanted to make things right."

Finally deflated, Hannibal lowered his head while leaning heavily with his elbows on his knees. Feeling bone-tired, he wondered when had been the last time he had something to eat or drink. It seemed too long ago.

Face hadn't said a thing. With his gaze fixed on the ground, he seemed to be contemplating Hannibal's words while slowly flexing his painful hand.

"I'm sorry, Face" Hannibal suddenly said after another pause. His voice sounded croaky.

At this, Face looked up in surprise.

It was quite rare to receive an apology from his commander who by nature wasn't an apologetic man. But as he locked eyes with the colonel once more, he could see the regret and knew the apology was in fact genuine.

"I know," Face said feeling silently grateful for the moment.

Hannibal nodded, knowing very well that the man probably needed some time to fully trust him again. But somewhere deep in his gut, he knew it would be alright.
Face stretched out a hand and with a small grin, the colonel took it. They shook hands in silence.
There wasn't any more to say on this subject.

With a small groan, Hannibal got up from his cardboard box and stretched his stiff limbs.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to business now," he said matter of factly. "What's our status? How are the guys doing? Where the heck are they? And why are the cops here?"

Face got up too and sent him a wanly smile.

"Well, that's a long story," he said, still talking with a lowered voice. "But making a long story short: you kinda left us in a hassle here,"

"Meaning?" Hannibal inquired.

"Well…. Remember our two friends, Bert and Ernie?" Face said, using the adopted pet names for the two thugs they'd gagged and bound and left at the motel room for the police to find.

"Yes, what about them?"

"Well, you remember how we locked them up in that motel bathroom together with those two other thugs that we interrogated to find out B.A and Murdock's whereabouts, right?"

"Yeah, the two we stole the pickup truck from," Hannibal mused. "I hope they behaved...".

"Oh, those guys were fine," Face waved the jest away. "But when the police found the lot, Bert and Ernie were still non-responsive, so guess where they were brought for further medical examination?" Face asked airily, using his sarcastic tone of voice.

"Here?" Hannibal replied.

"Exactly," Face said. "And guess what they did when they woke up? They overpowered a cop and paid us a personal visit in our room. God knows how they even knew in the first place!"

At Hannibal's concerned expression, he quickly added: "No worries. We took care of them and our guys are fine!"

The colonel exhaled slowly as he, once more, felt a fresh pinch of guilt gnaw at his gut for leaving his men behind.

"So now what?" he said, observing his lieutenant who suddenly sent him a cunning smile.

"Now we wait for the ladies to finish the job," he said.

He fished an extra surgical mask from the pocket of his doctor's coat and handed it to the colonel.

"I think I should fix you a coat too," he added, eyeing Hannibal's current attire.

Then his look changed into one of exasperation.

"Wait a minute...Hannibal, is that my suit?!"

Hannibal sent his lieutenant an all but innocent grin. The conman sighed.

"You better haven't ruined them again," He wined. "You know how I hate it when you borrow my suits. You always wear them out. They're custom made, you know."

Hannibal laughed at this, relieved how much the conman sounded more like the old Faceman again.

"And by the way..," Face continued haughtily. "It hardly suits you…"

Then he turned around, grabbed a roll of dark-colored duct tape from a box and fished a metal sign-board from under his coat.
The conman put his surgical mask back over his face and gestured the colonel to do the same. Opening the door, he checked if the coast was clear.
There were voices in the room where he knew that Doctor Jones, nurse Daisy, and the cops were busy explaining the situation. He thanked the heavens that nobody else was using this abandoned wing of the clinic at the moment. The two men stealthily entered the hallway. Then Face made a bee-line toward the door of the room he knew was vacated by his teammates. It was only a few doors away from the cops, and he was careful not to make any loud sounds. With his hurt hand, he clumsily tore off a few pieces of the sticky material while involuntarily cringing at every ripping sound he made.
While Hannibal kept an eye on their surroundings, he slowly, but rather neatly, mounted the signboard to the door.

"There you go," He whispered to the colonel who turned around to admire his lieutenant's handiwork. "I gather that this will allow us some much-needed privacy from prying cop-eyes.

The sign had big capital letters in black and red, and read:

"CAUTION, QUARANTINED AREA - Authorized personnel only."

"It's a masterpiece," he said, grinning behind his mask.

"Now please fix me a coat, doc."

TBC