Well, here's chapter two!
Review replies...
shadowwalker213 Thank you :) I've always fancied Face and Amy as a couple myself ;)
Labybabe Thank you...I hope you like this update.
Allissea I've always thought Amy should have stayed with the team...instead of bringing in Tawnia. I think she was the best add-on for the team :)
I know it's been a while, but I hope everyone's still with me here :)
And now for the customary shameless plug. I post all my fic over at my A-team forum first for feedback, so thanks to all who reviewed and offered advice there :)
And now on to the fic! R&R!
BA growled and stalked menacingly toward Face, Frankie and Murdock, who were all hiding behind Hannibal. He had awoken just as he landed safely on the ground, and was none too happy about being pushed from a plane.
"Secure that, Sergeant," Hannibal ordered calmly. "You can be angry later. Right now we have to bury these 'chutes and find Amy." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "Frankie, help him. Murdock, you got that map?"
The Captain pulled a folded up piece of paper from his jacket, and replied, "right here, Colonel."
Hannibal kneeled in the sand and spread the map, then pointed at a spot marked off in the middle of the desert. "According to Stockwell this is approximately where we are." His finger slid east to another dot on the map, just beside Al Jawf. "Meaning we've got about eleven and a half miles between us and Amy."
"Good thing Stockwell had us dropped off at night, huh, Colonel?" Murdock remarked with a small smile.
Face shot an unappreciative glance at his friend, wondering how the man could make wisecracks at a time like this, but remained silent.
Ignoring the remark, Hannibal looked at his watch, then back at the map. "That means it's about two and a half hours--maybe more--to get to the prison, and another forty-five minutes before the guard change," he muttered to himself, raising his voice so the whole team could hear him as he continued. "Can't take any more than three hours to get to the prison, or we have a six hour wait for the next guard shift, and we miss Stockwell's flight out of here. BA, you and Frankie will wait with whatever transportation you can find. There's bound to be truck or van to transport the prisoners lying around somewhere. Murdock, Face, you're coming in with me. Now, supposedly, Amy'll be on the third floor, so getting in, finding her cell, and getting out quickly is going to be a bit of a trick. Fast and quiet is the key. No gunshots, if you can avoid it. We may have to split up to find Amy, so keep your radios handy. Two clicks if you find her. Any questions?"
Murdock and Face both shook their heads.
"Frankie, BA, any questions?" he asked a little louder. Receiving two more negatives, he smiled grimly and muttered, "good. Now, let's help them get those 'chutes buried. I'm not keen on letting Amy stay in that place any longer than she has to."
"Right, Colonel." Murdock headed away quickly to help out, leaving Face and Hannibal alone for a moment.
The Colonel put his hand on the younger man's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You okay, kid?"
Face swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat at the memories of his own incarceration before replying, "I'll be better when I know Amy's safe. I can only imagine what she's going through in a place like that."
"We'll get her out," was all Hannibal could think to say.
He nodded silently in return, and walked off toward the others with Hannibal following after a moment.
The cell door slammed shut as her cell mate was taken away yet again, leaving Amy with nothing but her own thoughts. She crouched helplessly in the corner, burying her face in her hands. It still amazed her how, even knowing what they would do to her, the other woman always seemed so strong when they came for her. 'Seemed' was probably the keyword, though.
After she had been taken a few times it became easier and easier for Amy to detach herself from the situation, to lose her grasp on reality in a sense. She imagined that was what her cell mate did as well.
What amazed her most of all, though, was her own surprising resilience, the fact that she hadn't told her captors anything yet.
Yet.
She didn't know how much longer she could hold out. Only the idea that talking would lead to innocent people getting hurt had kept her silent. But how long could that last?
Closing her eyes, she ignored the screams of the other prisoners, and remembered a conversation she'd had with Face. It seemed like ages ago.
He had told her of his time in Vietnam, told her of what had happened in the prison camps. At the time she hadn't understood what he'd meant when he'd said it was the worst and most frightening time of his life. Not really, anyway.
Now she understood, though.
She was being violated and tortured on a regular basis. Even with the small window allowing light into the cell, she couldn't be certain how long she'd been there. Days? Weeks? Any hope of rescue was slowly becoming little but a faded memory.
Frightening couldn't even begin to describe the experience. And calling it the worst time of her life seemed too mild somehow.
Memories of the conversation washed over her and brought a smile to her face as she once again found herself entertaining the idea of the team coming to rescue her. It was a pipe dream, and she knew it, but it kept her going in her darker times.
Every time she saw the dream, the guys would bust the cell door down, and Face would carry her out of there to safety. Nobody got hurt. And everything worked out right.
A bitter laugh escaped her dry lips. Even if the team somehow idid/i manage find and rescue her, what were the odds of them all escaping unharmed?
God, how she wished Face were with her, though. He inever/i would have let this happen to her. He would have died first.
The thought made Amy's stomach churn. Maybe it was better that he wasn't there. She'd already thought she'd lost him, along with Hannibal and BA, when she read the story of their execution. Her job had prevented her from returning for the trial, and it wasn't until days later, when she'd heard of their escape, that she was finally able to eat and sleep properly once again.
Another pained scream pierced the air, and Amy flinched in sympathy. She didn't know whose scream it had been, but she felt badly for them nonetheless. Most of the people in the prison didn't deserve to be there, she was willing to bet her life savings on that fact.
Her body shook with a few dry sobs, and she reached up to wipe at her face the sleeve of her torn, blood-stained shirt. It was simply a reflex to wipe at her face; she was far too dehydrated for tears.
Closing herself off from the horrors around her, Amy slid back into her rescue fantasy, and smiled as she saw BA break down her cell door.
