A.N – Yeap. Once again, I got back to this unfinished story, that is taken so long to write. And once again, as I last posted more than 9 months ago, I read it all from the beginning, and at the end of the five chapters, I wanted to keep reading.
Where is the rest? Where I was going with this?
Can I have a writing fairy to finish this up for me, please? That would be great. (And much easier!)
At this rate, I may finish this story by 2027, but hey, bear with me: real life is a bitch, and keeps me busy, away from ff.
At least, I let some steam off when the Vette uses all the insults I could think of in English. (If I missed any juicy ones, please let me know, for the next time, hahaha.)
Thanks for reading this new chapter, and please, review if you can. Much appreciated!
– 6 –
(6)
While B.A. kept sulking and complaining, I quietly enjoyed my cigar, counting the minutes for his reappearance. Decker was up to something, and I was itching to know what it was. Although, I had an idea…
"There he is," I said when I saw him coming out of the garage, driving the corvette in civilian clothes. "I knew it! The bastard couldn't resist trying the Vette."
"Man…. We better don't tell Face that sucka' took his baby for a ride!"
"Get down!"
We quickly slid down our seats as Decker drove past. He didn't see us.
"Let's go. On his tail."
B.A. started the engine of that rental car and off we went, following the Vette at a safe distance. Which was fine while on the city, but as soon as Decker got to the highway, he put his foot down, and they took off.
"I'm gonna lose him, Hannibal!" B.A. said, also hitting it, but that car had nowhere near enough power to keep up with our white fury. "Damn!"
"It doesn't matter. I have a pretty good idea where he'll wind up tonight."
"Do you?"
"Of course," I said, puffing my cigar. "It's Decker. Just think of 'Nam. Where would he go on a Friday evening?"
B.A. thought for a moment. As it dawned on him, his scowl slowly morphed to a cheeky smile.
"The ladieeees…" he said, dragging the word, nodding in agreement.
"Exactly," I said, grinning, puffing smoke. While in 'Nam, that anal-retentive man loved the Thai girls at brothels, and I was sure he had carried on indulging on that old habit. After all, johns will always be johns... "He's got a flashy ride, and he put great effort to pimp up tonight. He's testing the car for speed now, but eventually he'll show up to pick some meat for the potatoes. Kerb-crawling is easier than fishing in a pub, and he likes professional services, so I bet he'll pick up a hooker at the track in Fourth Street. Get off the highway; we'll wait for him over there."
"Yeah, man, we'll take the Vette when he's distracted with his pants down!"
B.A. giggled, taking the next exit.
Yeah, a piece of cake.
AAA
(2)
"Come on, Face, how many times have I failed you?" Hannibal said, looking almost offended by my reluctance and lack of enthusiasm.
"Do you want me to do a memory exercise, or is this a rhetorical question I don't have to answer?" I snapped, clearly annoyed.
A few times, Hannibal, a few, so let's leave it there... Especially when you say —
"It will be a piece of cake."
Damn! He said it! Again! I can't believe it!
"You just have to walk into that impound lot, work your magic to find out where they left the Vette, and we'll snatch it back. Easy as pie."
Enough with the pies and the cakes, Hannibal! For goodness sake!
"I want to get my baby back, of course I do, don't get me wrong, but… why does it always has to be me who gets the shitty end of the stick?" I moaned one more time, fed up of the game.
"Because you are the best! No one else can pull this off like you do. Besides, since we left Crystal Lake, that's all you've been thinking about: the Vette. You've been itching to return to this area to recover that car, and you know it."
"Our wheels. Our pride. Our joy," Murdock chimed in. "We feel your pain, Faceman, and we want to help."
"Shut up, fool! Or you'll feel the pain of my fist!" B.A. snarled. "If it was my van at the impound lot, you would not bother!"
"Of course I would bother, Mudsucker! I love that van!"
"A diamond. That's what you are, Face. Formed under pressure to a sparkly, brilliant finish," Hannibal said then, ignoring their bickering, puffing the smoke of his cigar on my face while he held onto my upper arms with both hands, in a paternalistic, patronizing, and very annoying way. "Pressure always brings out the best in you."
"Diamonds also crack under pressure, you know?" I said, wriggling out of that grip, and away from that grey, smoke cloud.
"But, what is life without pressure? Nothing. The vacuum of the empty soul," he said then, coming closer again to pass his arm over my shoulder, waving the cigar on my face as he divagated. "Think of a crushed, precious flower, as it produces its best fragrance. A crushed, juicy grape, that produces the best wine. An olive, pressed to extract the finest…"
"OK, OK, I get it!" I interrupted. "Enough with the examples! I'll go! Happy now?"
"Nice, Face. I'm so proud of you," he said, grinning, slapping my back.
Jesus, Hannibal. What a conniving, persuasive motherfucker, you are!
Should I tell him my cracked rib still hurts like hell?
No, because he may suggest using a hydraulic press to crush me like a precious, little olive, just to make his point…
"Hey, you could start by finding us an inconspicuous apartment as our command centre," Murdock said, weaseling out of B.A.'s tough grip, not missing a beat of the conversation.
"Of course. Right away!" I said, glad to get away for now on that simple task.
AAA
(38)
Vette and all, I could hardly follow B.A, the way he was driving the van as if it was a drag race car intend on beating the quarter-mile track speed record.
Pretty soon, we got to Marty's, where I leaped off the Vette, once again not bothering with the door.
"Full service on this baby, please!" I said, handing out the keys to an old man in an oil-smeared, grey overall. "As usual: keep it out of sight!"
"Have I ever let you down, guys?" Marty said, taking the keys with a rather too greasy hand for Face's liking.
I ran to the van, and as soon as I jumped in through the open sliding door, B.A. hit it again and the GMC Vandura bolted forward, burning rubber. With the sudden acceleration, I fell on my ass on the back seat.
"How's he?" I cried anxiously, back on my feet, kneeling by Face while Hannibal closed the door.
"Not good," our C.O. said, looking genuinely worried.
"It's my fault! I should have realized the soldiers were still lurking at that place!"
"Please, don't start with that again, Captain. This is only Decker's fault, and he's going to pay for this. Big time!"
"Yeah! I'm gonna break that sucka's skull!" the mudsucker said, angry as never before.
"Hold on, Faceman. Keep breathing, you're gonna be all right," I said, holding the oxygen mask one more time.
Damn! I've never seen that handsome face so pale, and at the same time, so battered... Damn you, Decker!
AAA
(9)
I hate that son of a bitch so much, it's unreal. He just farted a stinker on my red leather! How dare you, motherfucker?
When we reached the highway, I speeded up to a 160mph, so the bastard could shit bricks instead of farting skidmarks on his underwear. At that point, I didn't mind if we could crash, as long as that fuckface would get off the driver's seat.
And who told you it was OK to take me for a ride, you twat? Damn! If I was fitted with an ejector seat, like a fighter aircraft, I would use it right now and cry: so long, piece of shit!
However, I didn't have one of those handy seats, and the night of nightmares had just started.
The dork returned to the city, and took me to the red-light district. Of course he did, because no way any tart with an iota of self-respect would hook up with that wanker at a bar!
The stupid cunt stopped by a group of scary-looking hookers at Fourth Street. As I'm always a chick magnet, in any occasion, they wasted no time to surround me, rubbing their for-sale, well-used bodies all over me.
Don't get me wrong, I do like that kind of contact with female specimens, especially for a B6, but I have to make this clear: of the hundreds of women my handsome servant had hooked up with, he had never, ever, had to pay for their services. Just saying. Apples and oranges…
Of that creepy gang, the scumbag chose an oriental, minute girl, barely of age, and off we went. Right on time, because as we took off, a bunch of anti-vice police cars arrived to raid the place, with a blast of sirens and blue lights. At least, that girl was so "lucky" to be with that jackass, she didn't wind up in jail with the rest of them ugly bitches.
We ended up parked in a solitary lay-by at the hills, where I had to endured the sickening sight of the most revolting, quick blow job ever. Thank God that unfortunate girl had the good sense of swallowing, so the jerk's cum didn't stain the leather!
Damn! The mere thought of it! Arrgghh! Disgusting!
AAA
(43)
Maggie stormed into the hospital waiting room.
"Hannibal, there is a colonel looking for you! You have to go!" she cried, a tad bit hysterical, frantically pulling at my sleeve to get me out of there, into the corridor. But I didn't have time to follow her advice, or to get ready, because the moment I stepped out of the waiting room, I heard the familiar, deep voice that I now hated with a passion.
"Freeze!" that voice boomed behind me.
I turned around slowly and there he was, in all his hideous, furious glory: Colonel Decker, aiming at my chest with a Beretta M9.
"Hands up!"
"Are you sure? Because I didn't apply deodorant this morning…" I said, complying very slowly, only because that man looked on edge today, more dangerous than ever, and after what he had done to Face, anything could happen.
Damn! That thought reminded me how much I hated his guts when I needed a clear head, not a visceral desire for revenge.
"No tricks this time, Smith!" he barked, stepping a bit closer, with his gun firmly trained on my heart. "Doctor, take his gun very slowly, and give it to me. Any suspicious moves, and I'll shoot. To any of you. I had it with the A-Team!"
"I know. I saw what you did to my Lieutenant," I said, unable to control myself, oozing hatred. God, how much I wanted to whack that man's face into oblivion right then!
"Doctor, take that gun!" he ordered again, but she didn't, as frozen as deer by headlights. "NOW!"
"Do it," I said in a cold, but still gentle tone. Maggie hesitated, still not sure what to do. I knew she wanted to help us, but I didn't want her to take any risks. "Do as he says. No tricks. And get out of here, please."
"She stays! She's your accomplice!" Decker snarled.
"She has nothing to do with us! If you want the gun, she can take it now, leave it there on the floor, at your feet, and go. Otherwise, I'll give you High Noon right now," I snarled back, lowering my hands a bit, closer to my gun.
Maggie hesitated, but then she stood in front of me, willing to provide cover, right in the line of fire. Attagirl!
"Doctor Sullivan, please, take my gun, give it to that excuse of a human being, and get out of here. Please," I insisted.
"No!" she said, with her back to me, facing Decker.
"Doctor Sullivan: get that man's gun, or I'll shoot you both!"
"You've done enough damage for today, Colonel. Do you really want to shoot a civilian now?" she spat, defiantly. "I don't think so."
"I'll do whatever I deem necessary to trap these men. So, I'd suggest you don't get in the way, Ma'am, because I won't hesitate."
"I guess you are on your own, Decker, because I can't see any of your minions around," I said to gain some time, lowering my right hand a bit more, behind Maggie. "Where is Captain Crane? Still at the lake, chasing ghosts?"
"Shut up, Smith, and get your hands up! I want to see your hands! Over your head!"
Damn! This fool won't be fooled so easily today.
"Agree to let her go, or we have no deal," I tried again, lifting my hands as if they weighted a ton.
"I wasn't sure if she was with you or not. But thanks to your pathetic insistence, now I know," Decker sneered.
"They don't deserve this," Maggie said, nearly as cross as me.
"You are mistaken. They do!"
"You know what?" Maggie said, losing it, turning back to me, reaching for my side, fumbling under my jacket. "You're right, and here's the gun! Take it!"
As she faced Decker again, now brandishing my piece, the bastard opened fire.
AAAAA