THE MULE KICKS BACK

Part Six:

A Disturbance at Dinner

"What have we got?" Hannibal asked from the comfortable chair by the bathroom door that he was sitting in.

They were back in the motel room and Face had just come out of the shower, wearing only a towel around his midriff, having decided it was the only way he was going to get rid of all the straw, he moved to where he had hung up his shabby uniform and took a piece of paper out of the tunic pocket. He sat down on the other bed. BA was sitting on the chair by the door and Murdock was sprawled on the other bed humming to himself what sounded suspiciously like a song from the Wizard of Oz.

"Well," Face began, trying to ignore the pilot as he enjoyed being the centre of attention. "I struck out on Grondyke – tried every variation and spelling of his name but there was nothing there. He obviously wasn't called Grondyke when he was a SEAL."

"Damn!" spat Hannibal. "The Watsons were unavailable for comment, not surprisingly."

BA growled. "House was empty, everything gone."

"So it was a set up," Murdock sat up, stopping his humming and leaning forward; suddenly interested.

"It would appear so and a well staged one for them to get past Mr Lee," Hannibal agreed.

Murdock said. "What are we dealing with here?"

Face cleared his throat almost shyly. "I did find something else though."

"What?" Hannibal asked.

"That's right, Faceman, you little devil – what did you print off before we legged it out of that office?" Murdock asked.

"Well, I remembered what you said about this being linked to Argentina so I took a chance and put in Karl Brandt."

"Who?" BA asked.

"The doctor from Buenos Aires?" Hannibal remembered.

"You bet!" Face was in his element.

"And what did you find Lieutenant?" Smith asked, playing along.

Face lifted his piece of paper and cleared his throat again. "Well, Karl Brandt was a NAVY Seal from '67 to '73. He was given a medical discharge in October of '73 but I couldn't get to any more of the details, time ran out. Did Murdock tell you a Two Star General turned up?"

"He sure did, Face! I'm impressed, makes a change from Decker, I suppose.

Murdock looked unconvinced. "But how do you know it's the same Karl Brandt? I mean isn't it a pretty common German name."

"I guess, but give me some credit, HM!" Face said mildly, waving the printed papers teasingly.

"Let me see!" The pilot leaned forwards to snatch the papers but Peck was too quick for him.

"Wait!" he said, his eyes bright with teasing as he moved the papers out of the pilot's reach.

"Is there more, Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked dryly.

Peck nodded proudly, "I got a picture of his squad."

"And?"

Very slowly and with great purpose, Face placed the printed picture on the bed, the others moved to look at it. Peck pointed at a figure on the back row, "Brandt?" he said.

The other three squinted, it was a black and white picture, over ten years old, but the same tall, blond man with the coldest, lifeless eyes, which they remembered from Argentina, stared back at them.

"That's him," Murdock agreed.

"And what about him?" Face pointed to a smaller more squat figure kneeling at the front.

"Grondyke!" Hannibal breathed.

"So there's the link!" Murdock reasoned. "Brandt put it in you and Grondyke took it out of you, Faceyman!"

"See anybody else you recognise?" Face asked.

The other three glanced along the two rows of sepia faces staring emotionlessly at the camera.

"Well I'll be ….." Hannibal said.

"What? I don't see it!" BA growled.

"Back row, last man, BA," Face said. "Make him ten years older, give him a moustache and do you see someone we've worked for recently?"

"The Spaniard!" Murdock said. "Senor Jose Gonzales – the father of the boy that was kidnapped."

"Kind of scary, isn't it?" Face said.

"That's an understatement, kid," Hannibal agreed.

"So the conspiracy theory is proven," Murdock said. "All of this has been a set up from the very beginning – Argentina, the lot!"

Hannibal sighed. "To get us there and back again." He shook his head. "And Navy SEALs involved too. Just what in hell is going on?"

"What are we going to do?" Murdock asked.

"Well, speaking personally," Face said. "I'm going to ask you guys to leave."

"Leave?" said BA.

"Now?" put in Murdock.

"That's right," Face confirmed smugly.

"But why?"

"Because I've got a date and I would like to look my best, of course!" Face beamed.

"A date?" said Murdock.

"It's not so hard to believe is it?" Face said. "I do have them quite often."

"Not Chrissie?" Murdock said in horror.

"Yes, Chrissie!"

"Is that wise?"

"Wise?" repeated Face. "Is that a relevant criterion?"

"I agree with Murdock, Face," Hannibal put in, remembering that the nurse had revealed to him another side that Face was completely unaware of. "Until we find out more about this I don't think you should be going out."

"What are you guys? My mother? I am a grown man who happens to have asked a beautiful young lady out and she has agreed! I'm going! Now please let me get ready."

"Face what are you going to do?"

"It's a date, Murdock, use your imagination!" The pilot looked suspiciously at him prompting Peck to continue. "For Christ sake, she helped me out of a bad spot; I just want to thank her!"

"Is that all, Face?" Murdock asked. "She's just a girl."

"She's an intelligent woman! And stop making me sound like some sort of sexual predator!" Face said indignantly as Murdock rolled his eyes but refused to say anything else, so Peck continued. "It's a start, isn't it?"

"But there are trained Navy SEALs out there after you!" Murdock pressed.

"Wrong, Murdock. There are trained Navy SEALs out there who got me, got what they wanted and now have no interest in me whatsoever. Whether we decide to go kick their asses tomorrow has no possible relevance of where and with whom I chose to eat my dinner! Now please let me get ready!"

Murdock threw a glance at the Colonel who shook his head in a negative motion. "Back by midnight, Face?" Smith asked mildly.

"Or what I turn into a pumpkin?"

"Or a munchkin!" Murdock muttered.

Face let out a long, harassed sigh. "Look it's quite simple. I am taking Chrissie out for a meal. We are going to that new French restaurant on Lincoln – Laurent's. I will be back by midnight or if," he hesitated and rolled his eyes at Murdock, "It gets interesting I will at least call. Is that OK, mom?"

"Just fine, Lieutenant." Hannibal stood up. "Let's give the kid some room."

Murdock sighed. "I think maybe I should go back to the VA, Colonel."

"Are you OK, Murdock?"

The pilot looked slightly shifty. "I guess I'm just a little tired and I'm running out of my meds."

"You're not upset with me are you, HM?" Face asked.

Murdock smiled sadly. "No, you're just doing what comes naturally, Face."

Peck gulped. "If you're sweet on Chrissie, if you want…."

"No, it's not that, Face." Suddenly it seemed as if all the energy had seeped out of the pilot. He shook his head but his eyes were unreadable as he moved away, following BA.

Face licked his lips and hesitated, wondering what he should do. Hannibal's voice calmed him a little. "He'll be all right, Face – we'll look after him. You go, have some fun but be a gentleman with Chrissie!" As he moved out of the door the Colonel turned back. "Nice work in finding the link," he beamed. "Good job!"

Face gave him back one of his most dazzlingly genuine smiles. "Thanks, Hannibal. I won't let you down."

"I know, kid, I know."

"So, what do you fancy?" Peck asked, scanning the menu in front of him with one eye, while managing to get a good look at the clientele of the restaurant with the other and still not going cross-eyed.

"Oh gee," Chrissie said. "It's all in French."

Face, in gentleman mode, bit back the ironic retort that came so quickly to his lips – he had been around Murdock for too long! Instead he smiled, as Chrissie continued, "I really don't know – a burger and fries is normally OK for me."

"You don't get out much?" Face said.

"I've been working nights for a while. I only got tonight off 'cause Colonel Smith sweet-talked Nurse Morrow. He was one smooth operator."

"You think?" Peck said somewhat sceptically. "I taught him every thing he knows, you know."

The wine waiter arrived then and dramatically popped the cork from the champagne that Face had ordered. He waited until the wine was poured, then Face lifted his glass. "Cheers," he said.

Chrissie took a shy sip and then giggled. "Boy, those bubbles sure go up your nose!" she said.

"You never had champagne before?" Face asked.

"Nope," Chrissie looked slightly embarrassed. "I tend not to go to places like this much." She giggled. "Well, not at all, really!"

Face stared at her then. Obviously, he had looked at her earlier, of course, and given her all the chat about her appearance that he thought was expected of him, but this time, he really looked. She looked good sure; she was dressed in a simple but well cut blue frock the colour accentuating the sparkle of her eyes. Her make up was simple and sparse and she looked even younger somehow than she had done in her uniform at the hospital.

As they had entered the restaurant, Face had noted that Andre, the Maitre d', had rolled his eyes and looked up sharply at him. Normally the ladies that Face brought to this place were mature, dressed to kill, sure of themselves and confident in the rules of the game that they were playing. Tonight, Andre, a watcher of people due to the nature of his job, had picked up the difference between Face's his usual companions and Chrissie. Face wondered how many of the other regulars were thinking the same thing.

As if to emphasise his growing disquiet he heard his name being called and turned in his seat to see Cindy, a long term acquaintance, one time sharer of his bed, and habitual diner at Laurent's, coming towards him.

He stood, awkwardly. "Cindy, how nice," he beamed as she bent down from her stilettos to purse her lips in his general direction.

She was all heaving bosoms, shoulder pads and big hair but Face suspected almost everything she had was artificially enhanced. Still, that hadn't stopped him from taking up her offer a couple of months ago.

"Templeton, darling," she purred. "How wonderful to see you!"

"And you, Cindy!" Face could play this role as well as any other but this evening, under the appraising stare of Chrissie, it felt forced and false even to him.

As she leaned in closer, breasts pointing enticingly towards him, Cindy hissed, "I didn't think that blushing virgins were your type. You normally go for a 'real' woman."

Face pulled back slightly, his eyes flashing to Chrissie to see if she had heard. The young nurse smiled as if it didn't matter. Momentarily embarrassed for her and lost for words, he stuttered, "I… eh … I…."

"Later, sweetness," Candy purred. "When you want to play some more." She took Peck's face in her hands, planted a long, kiss on his lips and then left in a swirl of scarlet skirts and fake furs, but not before the stamp of her rouge was branded across Face's lips.

"Lord, who is she?" Chrissie asked. "Is she famous?"

Face sighed. He took up his napkin and wiped away at his lips, not surprised when he saw the crimson streak across the material – he could still taste the lipstick. "In her own head," he muttered. Pulling himself together he looked back at the menu. "You like fish?"

Chrissie nodded. "But I don't like fighting for it through the bones."

"OK," Face responded, studying with great detail. "Steak?"

"Not if the blood runs out of it."

He glanced up at her then. She was smiling at him. "You don't have to do this, Templeton," she said softly.

"Do what?"

"I may be a simple girl easily flattered but I'm not stupid, I don't fit in here," she said.

"Sure you do."

She shook her head. "I accepted your offer because it's not very often that a guy like you would ask me out, well never actually. But I was afraid that something like this would happen. You don't understand – I don't want to fit in with this." She looked around the opulent and ostentatious surroundings.

Face sighed. "Don't want to? What's to fit in with?"

"All this." She raised her hands to incorporate the room around her. "Before I started nursing I used to work in a soup kitchen down town and it was scary sometimes but I won't ever forget the look in those men's eyes and when I see all of this, it kind of makes me feel a little guilty, you know."

"You have nothing to be guilty about."

"Maybe, maybe not. As I said, I don't get out much since I got the job at the hospital and I've been working most nights and it's pretty tiring so I want to sleep when I'm not. I've never been comfortable in a place like this – how can you order things when you don't even know what they are?"

Peck shrugged. "You sort of pick it up as you go along," he disclosed defensively.

"I'm sorry," she replied, the light glinting in the moisture that had sprung to her eye.

"Sorry? What for?" Peck asked.

"You've shown me only kindness and brought me out to dinner and now I've offended you."

"No, it's OK, Chrissie. I'm not offended. It's just, you're right, I don't understand. I thought that bringing you here would be a treat. I wanted to thank you, you saved my life, without you I would have bled to death alone and unnoticed in that OR. I wanted to show you that …. that I thought you were special, that you deserved the best."

She smiled and sniffed. "You see that's where we're different, Temp; this isn't what I would call the best. I find all this stuff uncomfortable and claustrophobic and cluttering but you, you fit in so well. I just think I'm not good enough to share this with you and you should have a beautiful model on your arm, like Cindy over there. Not someone like me – I just don't fit and you do, you play the part so well and we come from different worlds."

Peck snorted. "We don't come from very different worlds, Chrissie." He took hold of her hands and squeezed then gently. "And you are way too good to be saying you don't belong anywhere. You are just as beautiful, more so than somebody like Cindy because you're sincere and true and what comes from inside of you shines out to the world. You are young and full of life and so free from the things that tie me down. I'm full of insecurities; I need to be seen in places like this. I'm superficial and shallow – it's me that's not good enough to share with you."

Cindy smiled, touched by his uncharacteristic honesty. "I bet you say that to all the girls," she said.

Face nodded ruefully. "Only to the ones I want to take to bed!" he disclosed. His eyes narrowed as he finally realised that what he had been growing to suspect was indeed the case – this girl was not as uncomplicated as she maintained. "And what about you?" he said. "You're not the simple, easily flattered girl, you make out are you? You didn't fall for any of my chat up lines back in the hospital, really did you?"

Chrissie laughed. "Sure I did and I certainly don't understand French! Order for me, please!"

"So why the act?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Temp." She shrugged. "Most men I met don't go for intelligent women – it's about bosoms not brains."

"But you got both," he pointed out. "Gotta be worth something!"

She laughed gaily. "So, you're not intimidated by a woman with an IQ of over 150?"

"150?" He responded. "Wow that's pretty high, I gotta admit!" There were hidden depths to this woman and her answers only brought more questions – why was she a nursing auxiliary if she was that intelligent? Why had she played along with his act earlier? He smiled and changed the subject shamelessly back to something he was infinitely more comfortable with; himself. "Am I really the bravest man you ever met?"

She giggled at his ingenious search for praise and shook her head so that her hair bounced beautifully off her shoulders. "Of course!"

"OK," Face appeared satisfied. "You like chicken?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded and watched him minutely as Face proceeded to make the order.

Afterwards he sat back. "You know when you got into that elevator, I knew there was something about you, Chrissie. I felt it deep inside."

"You're good at this flirting thing, aren't you, Templeton?" she observed.

He nodded. "I can't help it and I have had plenty of practise! Come on, Chrissie, the night is young – this may be your first and last time in a restaurant like this, lets make the most of it!"

"You play computer games, Temp?"

"Me?" Face guffawed. "It's not my thing and I'm surprised you do."

Chrissie shrugged. "I got an older brother and he got me into it. Anyway, there's a cool game I played called Destroyer. You play a hot shot pilot and you're blasting your way through the universe, killing everything that comes in sight and then when you get to the end of the game you realise you're all alone, and you've killed everything in the universe and there's only you left. And it sort of reminds me of you."

"A hot shot pilot?"

"Don't hide behind your shallow façade; you're better than that and you get the point. And for now, maybe, you are a hot shot but what happens in the end, Temp?"

He snorted, shook his head slightly. "You know something tells me you're not the person you make out you are, Chrissie. Maybe Murdock was right; you're not my type." He smiled, blazingly striking, "But that doesn't mean that I don't find your 'type' very attractive – is there a chance that we could, maybe meet again?"

Chrissie smiled. "If you promise this simple girl one thing."

Face rolled his eyes and let out a brave breath. "OK, shoot! But I'm not playing any computer games!"

"Next time you take me out, take me to Captain Bellybuster – I only need one more voucher for the free cap and I am a burger and fries, girl. Christ, I had to borrow this dress from my neighbour and I can't walk in these damn heels."

Face stared at her shaking his head in bemusement. "You are serious - maybe this isn't such a good idea," he said. Then his eyes narrowed. "So there will be a next time?" he asked.

She smiled. "Maybe! Would that be a problem?"

"The ladies I normally bring here don't talk about the next time," Face said. "It's sort of the rule, you know."

"I think we've already established I'm not like the 'ladies' you normally bring here and I'm far too simple to understand any rules – I'm just a nursing auxiliary. I want to see you again because I like you, not because you're charming and sexy and good looking, although you are obviously all that, but because I think you'd make a good friend."

"A good friend?" Face chuckled almost choking on the mouthful of champagne he had just sipped. "That's not normally a description women chose to use about me," he said.

"I bet the rest of the Team would say it about you, though."

Face snorted. "Sometimes …. Maybe… when I haven't screwed something up or when I've scammed something good."

Chrissie stared at him for a long time, her eyes piercing into him analytically, wondering if she should carry on. "I'm talking about you, not the things you do."

Face gulped and looked away, unable to hold her gaze, he fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't …." He began and then stiffened noticeably. "I just got to go to the bathroom," he said with affected nonchalance. "Drink the champagne, and keep looking pretty!" he winked.

He was gone, weaving his way between the tables. Chrissie shook her head slowly, believing it had been the conversation that had made him uncomfortable, she did not look to see what other source there might be and so missed the three dark suited goons wearing sun glasses and the fourth a smaller man, who followed Peck into the bathroom.

Face had seen them when he looked up – Grondyke and three of his men coming straight for him. He knew he had to move and quickly, had to make sure that Chrissie was not implicated; if they recognised her from the hospital, who knew what they would do.

His heart was thumping in his chest as he entered the bathroom, eyes flashing looking for an escape. There was none but as he turned, the goons entered behind him, pushing him back until he hit his back painfully on the far wall and let out a gasp.

"Well, Mr Peck," Grondyke preened. "You keep popping up, don't you?"

"I could say the same about you!" Peck spat back.

"Well, this time will be the last, I assure you."

Face lifted his hands in a placating motion. "Look, this is getting to be a bit of a habit. This is the third time now – wouldn't it be easier if you just told me what you wanted and we could come to some sort of agreement?"

A fist to his belly stopped him as he looked expectantly at Grondyke but Peck was ready. He let his breath out with a noisy grunt and dropping his head, made as if to fall forwards. He grabbed Grondyke around the waist and, as the man tried to step away from him, he deftly lifted the wallet from his inside pocket. Face dropped it to the floor, the sound of its fall was masked by Face's further wheezing and then he kicked it under the sinks. It was all he could do at this time, but he prayed it was enough.

"Get him out of here!" Grondyke spat.

"Look I don't think…."

Another fist to his belly and this time Face's stagger was real. The two goons that had hold of his arms pulled him away out of the door and through the kitchens to the back parking lot.

Chrissie still sat at the table, waiting. She could not believe, for all his facades, Templeton Peck was the sort of guy to run out on her in these circumstances, even they she knew she had pushed him to places that his usual dates would never have even thought of – could she have read him so wrong? Should she instead have contrived to have played the role of quivering stupid girlie, hanging on his every word?

She sighed. And now she was in real trouble because the food had arrived, and most immediately worryingly; there was no way she could afford to pay for it!

TBC