Chapter 11

"What do you see, Hannibal?"

"Not much." Hannibal said, grimly, looking through his binoculars. "Only one way in, and that's through the front door. A few fire exits at the back of the building, but they'll be locked from the inside. We could always go in through the kitchen, but it's not in the psych ward, so we'd have to make our way through most of the hospital to get to Murdock that way."

"How about the windows?" Face asked

"They have bars on all of the windows – even the ones on higher floors."

Face shuddered to think why the bars were necessary.

"Well," Hannibal said, finally lowering the binoculars, "looks like the front door is our best shot. There's no way all three of us will be able to go in. We'll have to bring him to us."

"How we gonna do that?" BA asked. He had been quietly sitting in the driver's seat of the van up until that point. "We break him out, he's gonna be in as much trouble as we are."

"We're not going to break him out, just take him for a walk. Face – still remember the medical lingo?"

"How could I forget?" Face only wished he could. He had been around more hospitals and seen more injuries and death in 'Nam than he ever cared to see again. They all had.

"Alright then. We'll come back tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I think we could all use another good night's sleep."

Face tried to sleep, but it eluded him. He kept tossing and turning, rehearsing tomorrow's scam in his mind, over and over again. Usually, he could pull off a scam with just a little thought. It had almost become second nature. But this time, he kept creating different scenarios, trying to anticipate every obstacle. His scam had to work. He would not fail Murdock.

Eventually, he got up and quietly got dressed, careful not to wake BA, who was sleeping soundly in the other bed. Face figured that if he couldn't sleep, he might as well be on guard duty. If you could call it that.

They had been staying at the run-down motel for a few days, catching up on some much needed rest. Nothing eventful had happened so far, and nobody seemed to give them a second glance. But with the diner incident fresh in their minds, they had set-up a night watch rotation. Face scanned the parking lot, and noting the coast was clear, headed to the van where Hannibal was watching the room.

Hannibal looked surprised, but reached over and unlocked the passenger side door.

"What's wrong, kid? You're not due for another two hours."

"Couldn't sleep." Face climbed into the van and closed the door. He reached for the thermos of coffee sitting on the floor and poured some into a Styrofoam cup.

Hannibal considered a moment and then leaned back in the seat, getting comfortable again while the night and the quiet settled back around them like a cool sheet. He sensed Face's worry, and contemplated the best way to reassure his lieutenant.

Face started, more than once, to share the worry on his mind, but couldn't find the right way to begin. So much depended upon him, and he wanted desperately to be seen as up to the task. Carrying out a mission in Nam was one thing, but this. . .somehow these stakes seemed higher, he thought.

"Do you know what made me decide to get you transferred from Bradley's unit to mine?" Hannibal asked.

Face shook his head and took a sip of the lukewarm coffee, glancing over at Hannibal.

There was an amused smile as the colonel met his eyes, then went back to scanning the parking lot. "It was what you did to that Colonel Decker." His smile turned into a grin. "Putting his face on a wanted poster. Nice. I knew I had to have a soldier like the one that pulled that off."

Face smiled as he thought back to what he'd done to Decker. He knew Hannibal and Decker didn't get along—their confrontation at the DOOM club in 'Nam had been told and retold so many times that it had become legend. Face had admired Hannibal's taking Decker down a notch or two, so about a week after the altercation, the posters had appeared all over the base. There had been so many of them, it had taken a squad two weeks to find and remove them all. No one had ever connected Face with it, however. "Ah, how did you find out I did it?" Face said. There didn't seem a point in denying it.

"Well, I had an idea, but I never knew for certain, until now, that is." Hannibal chuckled. "You've got imagination and style, kid. I like that."

Face shook his head. "What gave you the idea it was me?"

"Oh no. I'm not giving away all my secrets. But when I became reasonably sure it was you, I began checking into your background. Not officially, but just talking to people, finding out about you. I found that the episode with Decker was not the only plan you'd pulled off successfully."

Face shrugged humbly, but felt pleased that someone admired his handiwork.

"But, one thing I've learned about plans is they are only good until you actually get into battle. Then, usually, the situation calls for improvisation." He glanced over at Face. "That's what you're good at. It's why I depend on you. Remember that tomorrow."

Face nodded. "I just worry that something's going to go really wrong."

"It might." Hannibal didn't lie. It could go very wrong. "But if it does, you'll think of something. You always do," Hannibal said. "If I didn't know that for a fact, I wouldn't send you in."

Face nodded again, feeling more confident about what he had to do. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will." Hannibal said. "I don't expect anything less."

The two sat there comfortably as the night quietly settled back around them. After a while, Hannibal realized Face had fallen asleep, his head propped against the window. He considered waking his lieutenant up and making him head back to bed, but he knew that Face might not make it back to sleep if awakened. Any rest was probably better than no rest at all, Hannibal supposed. The kid had a tough job ahead of him tomorrow. He reached over and slipped the empty cup from Face's hand, then moved quietly to the back of the van and returned with a blanket. He draped it over Face, and then sat back down, playing sentinel once more. They were still in the same positions when the sun rose, lighting the sky with streaks of color.

Murdock looked around as he entered what everyone called the "day room." It was the place where many of the patients spent most of their days doing crafts, playing games or watching TV. Johnson, one of the orderlies, was already in here watching a local news show and reading the newspaper at the same time. This wasn't good. If there was any news on the team, it would most likely be on the national news, not the local morning show.

He'd escaped breakfast early to do this, nibbling just enough to satisfy the staff, taking his meds, then asking for permission to go to the day room. The question was, would Johnson cooperate or not? He was one of the tougher orderlies around here, and Murdock had already been warned by the patients to tread carefully around him. Their paths had crossed once or twice, but nothing major. Yet.

"I gotta check channel six." Murdock said casually, flipping the station as he reached up to the TV set. Maybe Johnson wouldn't even notice. "Find out if the aliens have invaded anywhere else."

"Look. You guys aren't supposed to be out of breakfast yet." Johnson laid the paper aside, got out of his chair and walked over to Murdock. He was a rather bulky man who was used to wrestling patients down when they got too rowdy. Murdock didn't relish the idea of giving the orderly a reason to grab him. It had been almost two weeks since he'd been shot, but his shoulder still hurt. He still had to wear his arm in a sling, and his shoulder was taped to immobilize it as it continued to heal.

"Aww, come on, please?" Murdock said. "This is a matter of national security. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't absolutely necessary."

"Look. You need to head back to breakfast. I'm not even on the clock until eight thirty." Johnson sighed, crossing his arms in front of him stubbornly.

Murdock put on a pleading expression, but tried to speak in an even, controlled tone. "You don't understand. I HAVE to see the news. Only thirty minutes, then I promise I'll leave you alone all day."

Johnson just stared.

"You won't even see me." Murdock promised again.

Something in Murdock's expression worked because the orderly walked away, muttering about working in the crazy ward. Murdock didn't pay attention to Johnson's retreat, but instead focused on the TV after settling on the couch. There were several news items about the team: there was a brief interview with a woman in Wyoming who swore Face had tried to pick her up in a bar, and a couple in Alabama who said they'd seen Face filling up a Camaro at a gas station. Both sightings supposedly occurred within two hours of each other, which Murdock thought was bound to send Lynch into fits. The very idea made him grin.

As he continued watching, nothing more was mentioned about the team—no accidents or run-ins with the police or MPs. This was the best he could do to check on his friends, but he still wished he could do more. Murdock sighed, feeling the anxiety around his heart loosen a little.

He'd worried about them a lot, even before Lynch's guys had come and told him that Hannibal and BA had been killed in a high speed chase. The officers had even had incident reports to back up the lies. Murdock hadn't known what to believe as they tried to extract information from him about where Face would run to hide. He couldn't even remember what had gone through his mind. All he remembered were a lot of voices that didn't say anything. After a while, it was quiet and he'd found himself back in his room. Then the phone call from Face…

Murdock's thoughts quickly skated from idea to idea. The visit from Lynch's men and the bugs in his room really bothered him. It reminded him that he could not afford to trust anyone at this facility, except maybe Dr. Richter—and Murdock wasn't too sure about him either. Maybe this whole place was bugged and staffed with people trying to get information out of him. He felt an icy chill as he glanced over at Johnson, who was reading the paper at one of the tables by the window. The orderly could easily be working for Lynch's men. Suddenly, Murdock wanted nothing better than to get out of here. He wanted to check his room for bugs again, just in case someone had been busy in there while he'd been at breakfast.

"Thanks, Johnson." He called out as he got up from the couch. It wouldn't pay to act suspiciously. He turned to go and froze.

Face stood there, dressed in white. For one terrifying moment, Murdock wondered if he were seeing a ghost. He couldn't seem to make his feet move, and his heart thudded in his chest.

"Captain Murdock. I'm supposed to take you outside for some exercise walking around the grounds. Does that sound okay?" Face spoke gently after noticing the look of shock on his friend's features.

When Face spoke, the ghostly illusion wavered, and Murdock realized his friend was wearing the orderlies' uniform. As the surreal feeling continued to fade, Murdock realized that Face had also disguised himself with darker hair and a moustache. He'd looked right past all of that at first, focusing on the eyes only.

"A walk sounds like a great idea." Johnson said from his window seat, sounding both distracted and slightly annoyed. "Keep him as long as you want."

"Come on." Face reached out and ushered Murdock towards the door. "It's okay." He added, still speaking in a soft voice. "You've got some visitors waiting outside."

To be continued…