Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: A 'Random Idea' that crossed my mind, something of a Heroes crossover. Comments and feedback are always appreciated.
Hide and Seek - Chapter Two
Venice Beach, CA
"Damn Face, how'd you afford a place like this?"
With a crooked grin Face looked up from the fridge to see B.A. disappearing onto the balcony. Shaking his head Face grabbed two beers from the door in one hand, his fingers closing around the slender necks of the cold glass bottles. From the balcony B.A. chucked, bemused by the crowds passing on the boardwalk below. Face pried the caps from the beers, tossing them into the trash where they jingled against the remains of several other bottles, and joined his friend outside.
B.A. seized the offered beer, taking a deep swig from the bottle while keeping an eye on a trio of bikini clad women strolling by. Face leaned one arm against the railing, squinting against the bright sun. He sipped at his own beer. Beyond the boardwalk the beach stretched out, the golden sand pounded by the push and pull of the ocean which itself ran to the horizon. The azure Pacific sparkled under the southern Californian sun which itself was slipping from the sky.
"Come on man," B.A. said, jogging Face back to the moment with a gentle nudge. "How you pay for this?"
"How's the beer?" Face asked trying to change the topic. B.A. shook his head, laughing off the distraction. Face took another drink.
"I was walking by and – dropped in to take tour of the model condos. Apparently they mistook for me for the new on-site sales manager," Face explained. He shrugged, straightening and turning his back to the ocean vista. "Let's just say that I didn't discourage the assumption."
"You gonna get caught," B.A. said pointing the mouth of his beer at Face. But there was gentle humor in the big man's expression and Face laughed. He clapped B.A. on the shoulder.
"Nothing I can't talk my way out of," Face assured him. He nodded in the direction of the open door and went back inside the air condition condo. As a model home it was completely furnished, and as Face had picked out everything himself, it was sleek, tasteful and expensive. B.A. took a seat on the leather sectional, sinking the depths with a happy sigh.
"So, where is the big man?" B.A. asked.
Face glanced to his watch. "He said six, but that he had to pick something up first."
"Murdock?"
"No, he's already here. But he went out to torment the performance artists."
"Crazy fool."
.-.-.-.
"Murdock?"
Hannibal stopped in mid-step, quickly adjusting his balance to keep from falling into a family of tourists who were gawking at the spectacle. The colonel stepped back and joined the crowd. At the center of their focus were two men. The first man, with black spandex stretched over a mind-boggling amount of muscles was balancing a metal folding chair on his chin. Seated on the chair, with a large grin plastered to his face, was H.M. Murdock.
At the sight of Hannibal the captain raised one hand and waved eagerly. Hannibal winced as the man balancing the chair and Murdock, was suddenly struggling with the shift in weight. For his own part Murdock seemed oblivious to the danger.
The crowd gasped and more than one person cried out. Hannibal wanted to close his eyes but didn't. With the leg of a folding chair wobbling on his chin the man was in no position to tell Murdock to stop moving around.
"Colonel!" Murdock waved again as though Hannibal had failed to notice him the first time. And finally Hannibal did close his eyes as more than a few people in the crowd started staring at him. A large shout erupted from the spectators and it was followed by the clatter of metal on the concrete. Hannibal's eyes flew open to see Murdock jogging over to greet him. Behind him, clutching at his jaw, the street performer was rocking on his knees. The chair lay on its back a few feet away.
"Did you see that Colonel?" Murdock asked. Hannibal grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from the scene. Most of the crowd was breaking apart and were going their separate ways but a few had rushed to the aid of the performer.
"I saw it," Hannibal said rushing Murdock along. He could see the glass and steel building that was their destination rising above the boardwalk. It was beautifully modern and completely out of place among Venice's mostly concrete and wood buildings.
"I didn't think it was possible," Murdock said following easily. "I said it might be dangerous, but he said he knew what he was doing."
"I don't think you were supposed to move." Hannibal glanced back at Murdock who was considering what he had just heard. A look of understanding flowed into Murdock's face and his pace slowed. Gently Hannibal took him by the shoulder and steered the captain ahead of him.
.-.-.-.
"Pretty," Face declared looking at the photograph Hannibal had passed to him. He smiled and passed it to B.A. then turned to Hannibal. "So, what's the job?"
"It would seem the FBI has lost their star witness against John Ortega." Hannibal said. He tapped the manila folder he'd brought along.
"Ortega? The drug kingpin from Tijuana?" Face asked incredulously with a beer halfway to his lips. Hannibal nodded and opened the envelope, ripping the flap open and pulling out the papers. He dropped the stack on the dining room table.
"The very same," Hannibal said. "A month ago one of Ortega's ex-partners was ready to turn evidence against him in a plea bargain. It was the first break the fed's had after six years. While he was in protective custody a gallstone attack put him in the hospital, and there, Ortega himself slipped past security and murdered the man. It was witnessed by Miss Rachael Strathmore, a nurse."
"So, how did the FBI lose her?" B.A. asked. He handed the photograph to Murdock who glanced at it then began whispering to it. B.A. glared at him and Murdock grinned back, holding the picture to his ear.
"Ortega has a mole working in the FBI who leaked the location of Miss Strethmore's safehouse to him. Three agents were murdered and the witness … is gone," Hannibal said.
"Gone? Who's to say Ortega doesn't have her?" Face asked.
"The agent in charge of the case informed me that his men are still looking for her as well." Hannibal replied.
"So, we find her and hand her back to the fed's?" B.A. asked.
"No. We are responsible for finding her then keeping her safe until the leak is sorted out, or the trial begins. The FBI is keen to ensure Miss Strathmore lives to see trial. A murder conviction will keep Ortega away a lot longer than the drug charges and money laundering they originally pinned to him," Hannibal told the group. He looked at the faces of his men gathered at the dining room table. The case seemed easy but he felt apprehensive about it. "Well? What do you boys say?"
Face shrugged and leaned back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest. "It's just babysitting, should be easy enough."
"If her testimony can put a drug dealer away then I'm in," B.A. said. They all looked to Murdock who was fidgeting in his chair.
"Murdock?" Hannibal asked when the man didn't answer right away.
"I think I've figured out how that chair trick works. I just need a folding chair," he said.
"No, Murdock – this case," Face said with minor exasperation. "Are you in?"
"Well, o'course," Murdock said drawled. "She can sit in the chair."
Hannibal reached for his beer and finally sat down at the table. He swallowed a mouthful while B.A. was muttering and looking balefully in Murdock's direction. Hannibal grinned and picked up the papers he'd brought along.
"So boss, what's the plan?" Face asked taking his copy.