It was a strange situation to be in, right now he felt like he was two people, both of whom where identical in terms of personality, physique and everything in between. What made them different were their experiences. While 'John' was in essence only a few days old, Face was a man well into his thirties with a lifetime of happiness and hardship in equal measure, while the amnesia was a wall that had separated the pair. But as the cement eroded, and the bricks became loose and fell, the two men could see more of each other. John could see more of Face and Face could almost connect again with the reality he had been cut off from. Both men, were slowly fusing together to once again formulate a whole consciousness.
Face only had a very vague awareness of this happening, as the pain medication coupled with the fatigue, stress and lingering concussion saw the lieutenant out cold for the most part.
In the final moment before sleep claimed him, Face had decided to take Hannibal's advice, and not think too much about trying to remember. So instead of focusing on retracing his steps back, he thought about dinner that night. About being crammed around a table full of people, enjoying the company, laughter and a meal. He had done that before, not with the McGregor's, but with a bunch of guys back in the army. The long days of training were broken up by meal times in the mess hall. Each man filling their tray with energy granting food, keeping up their strength, ready for the next task to be assigned.
Face had struggled in those first months, still hurting over Lesley leaving his life with no reason and no word; he worked hard to hide that pain. It was there his ability to lie well, making people believe exactly what he wanted them to believe, grew. He didn't share his lonely past with anyone, they didn't need to know. He worked and trained hard, and had a damn good time with all the guys around as a distraction, the pain of being jilted only came to him in the lonely hours of the night.
The nights weren't always lonely however, later they were filled with explosions and gunfire. In a place were nature was predominant, men… friends, fought an enemy they didn't always see, and you didn't always see those friends die. Sometimes they were just names on a list, dog tags in a bloodstained bag because there was nothing left of them to take home. The days were as dark as the nights, full of fear and uncertainty, and the heartbreak of a lost love was the furthest thing from his mind. He'd got his wish, he forgotten that pain only to replace it with a whole different kind.
The glory of war was a lie, honourable service to ones country, just a line. The rewards for service were enticing but as Face's time in Vietnam stretched on, and the more friends he saw die, he realised with a pit in his stomach, that none of that was worth ones life. Everything the military was offering couldn't compare to basking in the sun on a cloudless day, running into the surf of deep blue seas, or the scent of freshly mowed grass. Who needed glory? It was just a word! What was honour, if no one remembered you? And the pay? It was a joke.
He didn't desert. He stayed for his friends. He didn't give up; he kept himself alive for the promise that none of it could last forever. And in those truly godless days in the POW camps, he kept it together for his team, his brothers and the love he had for each.
With every memory revealed, Face lived that moment again before spiralling onto the next. The entire nights sleep was far from restful and in the darkest of those dreams, Face cried out, his choked voice strangled with agony and aguish only a fellow survivor could understand. Had he been aware of his own voice he might have been embarrassed, but all he could comprehend was what played on behind his closed eyes.
The final insult and perhaps the most hurtful was the verdict of their trail. Guilty, how could the country they had endangered their lives for, find them guilty!? The mystery of his life was now apparent, the truth of his fate, and that of his friends and team mates, revealed. Unfair. Pathetic. Unjust!
Years of service! Their lives on the line, every day while in that accursed country, fighting a war no one believed in! Hated for doing their job and cast aside like the carcass of a sacrificial lamb, having played its part in a futile string of events… An embarrassment to the brass, who wanted nothing more, than for them to disappear. Face wanted to scream from his seat as the verdict was read, he hadn't then, he regretted it ever since. Living it again he decided that wouldn't be a mistake he made twice.
"You son's of bitches!"
"Hey, man. Wake up." A strong but gentle shove to his shoulder followed the gruff voice and Face's eyes shot open.
"Can you believe that…?" He said sleepily, blinking up at B.A who he could barely see since it was so dark. "They don't know what they're talking about."
"Who?"
"The…general?" It took those few seconds for Face to realise they weren't standing before the military court that had convicted them. "The court. The verdict, its bullshit." There was no word from B.A for the longest of moments and that strong but gentle hand just remained on the lieutenants' shoulder. "Oh man…" Face rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry B.A, guess I was dreaming, huh?"
"Sounded more like a nightmare." B.A's hand retreated and the burly mechanic sat back on the chair opposite the bed. As Face's eyes adjusted to the limited light in the room, he could make out B.A a little better. "But it sounds like you're remembering some stuff, that's good."
"Not really…"
"You know what I mean, Face."
"Yeah, I do." He flashed B.A the barest hint of a smile in silent apology. It was bad enough one of them had to relive all that crap, he wasn't about to pull B.A down with him. "What time is it, how long was I out?"
"About eight hours. It's early."
"I don't want to go back to sleep, not while all that is still fresh in my mind." Face slowly sat up, his right hand going to nurse his bruised chest. B.A seemed to contemplate his decision to help before finally offering a hand to his team mate.
"So you've remembered everything?" B.A asked as they made their way downstairs as quietly as they could since the McGregor's were sleeping.
"There's still big holes, but, I've got most of it back." Face headed towards the dinning table where B.A had some electronic equipment, taking the time to tinker while it was quiet. He also had a large map of the area unfolded, along with a glass of milk and a few cookies.
"What about this Clydesdale fella, know why he tried to kill you yet?" B.A sat, grabbing the handheld remote he had been working on and a screwdriver, setting to work to finish what ever task Hannibal had given him. Face sat looking down at the map, something caught his eye, something familiar. "Face?"
"Huh?" He was snapped from his thoughts but couldn't bring himself to look away from the map, more specifically, the shape of the land that was the McGregor's land. He had seen a similar map a few days ago but there was something missing on the one before him. Without another word he plucked a pen from a nearby bureau, and started to draw the missing shape from his memory, hoping it would bring on a clearer recollection.
"What's that?" B.A asked as he stood beside the lieutenant.
"I…I don't quite know yet." He frowned down at the area he had just shaded, noticing that while most of it was in the McGregor's land, the thinner section ran north into the Clydesdale farm. While Face leaned over the map, trying to force the memory from the unreachable corner of his memory, B.A done the same, studying the mark Face had made. As the mechanic leaned in, one of his many gold medallions started to swing, catching Face's eye. "Wait…" He said softly, still fixated on the piece as it swung back and forth over the map. "That's it, I remember."
"Well it's about time." B.A grumbled as he stood up straighter.
"I need to get into town…" Face headed for the door, with B.A following.
"But Hannibal's got the van." The lieutenant paused, but was struck with an idea as he remembered more about himself.
"We can take my Corvette!" He beamed as he exited the house half expecting it to be parked some place nearby. "Where is my Corvette?"
"Ah, yeah…about that."
Hannibal knew Face would be upset about his ride, but the colonel couldn't help but smile as the kid paced back and forth before the wrecked Corvette, assessing the damage, and working out how much Clydesdale owed him for the repairs it needed. Despite the bruises, the aches and the obvious fatigue, the lieutenant was once again the Faceman they all knew and loved. It occurred to Hannibal that he wasn't the only one smiling, both B.A and Murdock had grins firmly in place as Face continued to complain about the state of his precious car.
"The paintwork's ruined; the windscreen is… no more! And the bumper and bonnet are a write off!"
"Look on the bright side," Hannibal said as he removed his cigar. "B.A managed to get her running again."
"You did?" Face turned to the team's mechanic with a hopeful expression.
"Course I did, man. Who do you think you're talking to?"
"Sorry, sorry B.A, I'm just not used to seeing my baby in this state." Face sighed as he looked down at the Corvette. "Why'd they have to go and trash my car, she never hurt any body…"
"They used her to lay a false trail." Hannibal explained.
"Yeah, they ran her into a ditch not to far from the McGregor's yard." Murdock added as he hopped down from the stool he had been sat on and joined Face who had managed to pull the drivers side door off. As Face whined some more, the captain took the door from his friends hand and put it back against the wall for B.A to fix later. "I think Clydesdale was trying to pin your disappearance on them."
"Why not," Face said with a sigh. "He blamed them for everything else. Everything he told us back in LA wasn't necessarily a lie, he just painted the truth so he was the victim and the McGregor's were the scum."
"That much I already figured out, but why?" Hannibal asked, wishing Face would get to the point of their gathering. So far since his arrival at the team's safe house, all the lieutenant had managed to do was cry over the Corvette.
"He wants their land." Face proceeded to pull out the map he had brought along with him. "You sent me ahead to do some digging. Well I dug and I struck gold. Literally." He placed the map on the large work table for them all to see. "Around fifty years ago the McGregor's land was owned by a family called Swanson, consisting of Ma', Pa' and daughter Emily. Emily Swanson later married Marshal McGregor and inherited the land not knowing, that the day before her father 'died' he staked a claim. He found gold right here, but for some reason didn't tell his wife or daughter about the find, so it's sat there all this time, claimed but untapped." Face indicated the area on the map.
"I'm guessing by the way you said 'died' you think he was killed."
"It's a little difficult to prove granted, but you have to admit the timing was suspicious."
"I'll say." Hannibal took a draw from his cigar as he looked down at the map another question coming to mind. "How did Clydesdale know about the claim in the first place?"
"About a year ago, Clydesdale tried to stake his own claim when he found a partial vein. He's very influential around here, I figured he used that influence to discover most of the deposit was on the McGregor land and decided he could have it all, if he could get McGregor to sell."
"But McGregor refused."
"So he resorts to greater and greater extremes to try and drive him and the family away." Face sat on a nearby stood, his right hand nursing his left side briefly and Hannibal shook his head.
"It was a dumb move kid, confronting a man like Clydesdale alone." Hannibal met the lieutenants' gaze seeing the kid shrug, accepting the chastising.
"I could have handled it better, I'll admit."
"You should have waited for us. We're a team."
"I know." Face looked at each of them with a sigh. "And I'm sorry, but can we do this later? We gotta help Andy and her family, if we don't bring the law to Clydesdale, even if the McGregor's cash in their claim to that gold, they might not live long enough to enjoy it."
"And if we help them, we might have stakes on some of that gold, maybe even a pretty young doctor?" They all knew Face well, affluence and the company of a beautiful woman always appealed to him.
"They saved my life, Hannibal. It's that simple." Face added the clarification but it wasn't needed. Despite the kids appetites for the finer things in life and the way he so often procured them, Face was a good man. The colonel nodded and chewing on his cigar still, he crossed to stand before the lieutenant.
"I have a plan."
"Don't you always." Face smiled.
"You up for waving red at the bull, kid?"
"If the bulls Clydesdale, you bet."
The plan was simple, but carried with it a certain amount of risk. After getting changed into something more his style, a freshly laundered suit, shirt and matching tie, Face headed back to the Clydesdale lumber yard.
It was eerie walking right back into the lions den, even with Hannibal beside him the lieutenant couldn't help but feel a little disorientation as the Déjà vu hit him once again. But instead of warm fuzzy memories, he was almost over come with the urge to leave and run for the hills. Just days ago he had came here with the intension of handing back the cheque that had secured their employment with Clydesdale, but he ended up almost eating a bullet. Clydesdale had been prepared to kill him to protect his interests, and Face knew that wouldn't have changed. He had to pull off the most convincing con of his life, while his confidence was at an all time low.
The colonel noticed the brief moment of apprehension as they headed up the steps towards the main office building, and Face was brought to a halt before he could step inside.
"Are you sure you're up to this, lieutenant?" Hannibal was all business, but the underlying concern in his voice was there too.
"Yeah, yeah of course," The con had started already, but Face had never truly been able to work his particular charms on Hannibal. The colonel always managed to see through him, though this time the older man seemed content to play along. "I feel a little offended you felt you had to ask." He sighed and quickly knocked on the door before he could talk himself out of it.
Hannibal stepped inside first, followed by Face who done his best to remain in the back ground while the colonel paved the way. Hannibal was a talented actor, able to deliver a line as convincingly as Face, the only difference between the two was their styles. While Hannibal played a character and followed, to an extent, pre-determined lines and responses, Face had to constantly think on his feet, and be prepared at all times for a change in flow or direction. He didn't always lead however; his art came from influencing the mark, and having them do just as much of the foot work.
"Good news, Mr Clydesdale," Hannibal declared happily around the cigar in his mouth, not that the snooty businessman seemed very interested since he hadn't looked up from his computer. Removing the cigar and undeterred, Hannibal elaborated. "We found our missing guy." Clydesdale looked up then, not expecting to see the 'missing guy' stood there. Face just smiled in that charming way as Clydesdale's eyes widened. "Face, allow me to introduce our client, Mr Luther Clydesdale."
"How could I forget?" Face stepped forward, extending his hand to shake that of the bewildered mans. Clydesdale was just how Face remembered him. He was heavily built, with blond hair and dressed in a dark brown suit. Right on cue, Hannibal laughed.
"Well, it's nice to see your sense of humour is still intact, kid."
"I might have lost a good portion of my memory, colonel, but memory has nothing to do with the kind of person you are deep down."
"I guess so," Hannibal went right back to chewing on that cigar, big smile in place.
"You…you lost your memory?" Clydesdale asked some what nervously and Face was starting to remember just how much he enjoyed his work. It was satisfying watching the guy who had shot him, squirm.
"Unfortunately, yes." Face made a point to touch the white gauze on his head, knowing Clydesdale could fill in the blanks for himself. "It's not total amnesia though. I still remember a lot. Like last Christmas when Hannibal's aunt Margaret sent that box of cookies she made with salt, instead of sugar?"
"That was a surprise." Hannibal said as he played along.
"And being shot," he deliberately paused, his blue eyes meeting Clydesdale. In that moment the threat was delivered and the sleeze ball heard it loud and clear. "Back in Nam. You and B.A had to pull me out."
"That's right." Hannibal nodded, removing the cigar once again so he could be clearly heard. "He took one to the leg while we were on a routine scouting mission. It was tough because, you hardly ever saw Charlie coming. The first you knew he was there was when one of your guys went down following the crack of gunfire."
"Hurt like hell." Face added, standing before Clydesdale smiling confidently.
"But we got the guy." Hannibal grinned, patting the lieutenants' shoulder affectionately as he crossed back towards the door. "I'm very protective of my team. When you serve with the same men for over ten years, that's a bond not to be messed with."
"Colonel, I didn't know you cared."
"Of course I care, lieutenant. Which is why, just as soon as everything is ready, B.A Murdock and myself will be heading over to the McGregor yard and giving them what for." Hannibal turned to look once more at Clydesdale who was looking more confused than ever. "Mr Clydesdale, our work will be completed by tonight. Now I've got lots to be getting on with, so Face here will go over all of the final, financial arrangements."
"Financial…?"
"What you owe us for our services." Face clarified and placed his briefcase on the table in front of Clydesdale, waiting till Hannibal left the room before he popped the clasps open. As soon as the door had closed again, Clydesdale was reaching for a piece in a drawer, but Face had already aimed and primed his own pistol before Clydesdale had even got the drawer open. "Now that, would be a very bad idea, Mr Clydesdale."
"All I have to do is scream and they'll be ten guys in here." Clydesdale warned, clearly uncomfortable with a gun turned on him. Face just shrugged.
"You do that and my team will gun you all down."
"I don't believe you, you're not killers." Clydesdale was starting to sweat, clearly not a bluffing man.
"We've lived through war, Mr Clydesdale. One of the things you're asked to do in a war, is take a life." Face rummaged through his case and dropped a number of papers before his captive. "But luckily for you, I've had enough of that life and I want out." Clydesdale looked down at the map which marked where the gold deposit lay. "Now, the way I see it, you need the McGregor's out so you can buy that land up and stake your own claim to the gold, otherwise you have to settle for a very small portion of that vein. I'm willing to help you accomplish that, for a price of course." Face positioned himself so he was now sat on the table, his pistol still aimed at Clydesdale who just watched the lieutenant with something of a sceptical eye.
"There's always a price, but why the sudden change of heart?" Face remained silent, not entirely sure what Clydesdale meant by that. While he had most of his memory back, the day of the initial attack was still a blur. "I mean, I put this to you on the day you came to me with the evidence, but you were so high and mighty, refusing me, making me look like an idiot." Clydesdale stood and walked to a small cabinet that held his scotch and a few glasses.
"Well let's just say, being shot in the head has a way of, changing a guys mind. I plan to make that the last bullet I ever have to dodge."
"It could have saved you all this trouble if you had just agreed to begin with." With two glasses of scotch now poured the blond man returned to his desk and set one glass down for Face while sipping from his own. "It's lucky you're so fast on those feet of yours. I don't usually miss."
"Well, we live and learn." As a show of faith, Face placed his pistol back in the holster and picked up the offered drink.
"You're acting like; I'm willing to be that generous again." Clydesdale grinned, forgetting it seemed that he was over a barrel.
"Oh well if that's really how you feel," Face put the glass back down. "I can see my… memory fully returning. I'm sure Hannibal would be interested to know just who it was who really tried to kill his friend. Trust me, the colonel's like a dog with a bone and he won't stop till you're six feet under."
"Alright!" Clydesdale relented as Face headed for the door. "How much?"
"Twenty percent and enough for a new car." He drove that later point sternly, still angry about his poor Corvette.
"Twenty percent!?"
"You're right, let's make it twenty-five."
"No, no, twenty is fine."
"I thought as much." Face gave his best glare and was about to leave, after all they had the confession they needed to hand over to the authorities, all that was left now was to wrap them up and tie on a pretty bow.
"Just a second. There's something you can do for me first." This was unexpected and Face could almost hear Hannibal cursing their luck. "I'm not a big fan of, handshakes you see. I like my business partners to show just how committed they are."
"Is that a fact?" Face didn't like where this was going. He should have just refused and left but he ran the risk of breaking his cover and putting himself in danger yet again. He'd been the cause of enough trouble; he had to handle this right. Face took hold of his pistol once more as Clydesdale got on the phone, calling ahead to some of his associates. "No funny business, Mr Clydesdale." He warned.
"Relax, we've got a deal remember." He went back to speaking through the phone. "Yeah, get her ready."
Face felt a pit open up in his stomach not understanding completely what was happening but he just knew this was nothing good, and something even Hannibal hadn't accounted for.
It had been hard to leave the kid in there, knowing just how bad it could end up and Face might not be so lucky the second time around, but it needed to be done if they were to get the confession. Hannibal joined B.A in the van and they were quickly speeding away, using the back roads and trails to get to the back of the yard, away from the work crews. They were now at the back of the office, Hannibal having listened in to the conversation going on inside the entire time.
It was just as they parked up that Clydesdale finally admitted his involvement in the trouble the McGregor's had been having, not to mention the assault on Face.
"Fraud, blackmail and attempted murder," Hannibal said as he smiled across at B.A. "That'll get Mr Clydesdale a room with a nice, barred view."
"Right on," B.A seldom smiled but this was one of those times he found a reason too.
The conversation in the office continued and Hannibal was getting his weapon ready as Face made his move to leave but was halted by a rather unusual request.
"…get her ready." Clydesdale's voice came in clear over the wire that Face wore and right away the colonel felt that something was very wrong. They paused from exiting the van, knowing some how that if they moved now they would miss the information they needed, information vital for being able to bring the an end safely for all involved. Face was playing it just as cautiously, going along with Clydesdale's request that he follow.
"Murdock, something's wrong. Have you got eyes on Face?" Hannibal asked over the radio. The captain had placed himself at a hidden vantage point close to the lieutenant and could jump out to assist if anything went wrong. While it hadn't gone wrong yet, it was definitely not going to plan, and the colonel needed a report on the situation if he was to amend his plan to account for these uncertainties.
"I have colonel, he's just left the office with Clydesdale and they're making their way to the storage shed on the east side. Over."
"Stay close, we have an unknown player in the game."
"Another three goofballs have just followed our guy into the shed, colonel. That's four bogies on our Face, please advise, over."
"Hold position, but be ready with the tissue."
The storage shed was one of the bigger ones in the yard, usually reserved for storing the saws and the other tools the lumber jacks used for their trade. There were also bags of seeds and compost, ready for planting to replace the produce they cut down. As Face entered the place he again felt that strange sensation of Déjà vu and couldn't stop the feeling of anxiety that rose up in his throat. With every minute spent around Clydesdale and his goons, more and more of his memory of that day returned, and he was starting to feel a little disorientated.
He also felt too exposed, and his pistol done little to reassure him that he would be fine. With four against one, the odds were against him but he had faith that Hannibal, B.A and Murdock were slowly moving into a position to help.
"You look a little pale there, pal." Clydesdale said with a cocky smile, as if he knew bringing Face back to the room he was originally shot would knock him off his stride. He was right.
"Just a headache. Now what exactly did you bring me here for?" He made a point of aiming his pistol at Clydesdale, again to remind him who was in charge here. As far as he could tell each of the goons were armed, if Clydesdale was he hid it well.
"For her." Clydesdale indicated ahead but what ever surprise the guy had in store was obscured by one of the crates.
"You must think I'm pretty stupid if you think I'm turning my back on you guys."
"I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect." Clydesdale smiled and ushered one of his men forward to bring this person of interest into light. The second the woman was shoved to his feet, Face felt that pit in his stomach widen and almost swallow him whole. Andy had been held against her will, and while her hands were now free, the ropes had cut into her slender wrists painfully. She squeaked through the gag in her mouth as she scampered back into one of the crates, looking around fright in here eyes.
If Face had been finding it hard to stay calm and in character before, it got a whole lot tougher in that instant.
"Why is Dr McGregor here?" He demanded, hoping there was enough distain in his voice and hoping Hannibal got that marvellous brain of his working on a solution quick smart.
"John?!" Andy mumbled the name she had given him around the gag still in her mouth and Face had to think fast.
"She knows you?" Clydesdale asked, eyes darkening in suspicion.
"That's not my name." Face explained but was cut off by Andy as she screamed at him angrily.
"We helped you!"
This was breaking his heart but he had to keep it together, he had to keep the con alive or they were both dead. Without a moments hesitation he knelt by the woman and grabbed her by the jaw, leaning in close with a sly smile.
"You helped a phantom, an idea of a man you thought you could love. I'm not 'John', never was. I remember who I am. I lie and I cheat and I steal, did you honestly think that made me a good person?"
"I trusted you…" She whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks and Face had to fight very hard to hide his real emotions. He took a risk now, as he leaned in closer placing his lips close to her ear so he could warn her. He had to be careful to tell her when she could hear through her sobs, but also make it look like he was a complete slime ball as he groped her by the waist.
"Trust me a little longer, Andy, please." Face pulled away, no idea if she heard his plea or not and his wandering hand was brought to a halt when her hand slapped right across his face. His head snapped to the side in shock.
"You son-of-a-bitch!" Andy screamed as Face stood, nursing the cheek that had a crisp, red hand print visible upon it. He met her eyes, trying to see if she understood or not, but he couldn't tell.
"You've certainly got a way with the ladies, pal." One of the goons quipped and Face just shook his head, ignoring him and looking to the boss.
"Please tell me you want her dead."
"That's exactly what I want." Clydesdale stood back, as if he expected Face to shoot her there and then. The lieutenant laughed. The idiot was making this too easy. "What's so funny!?"
"The fact that you want me, to blow this woman away, here! On your property, in your storage shed. Do you even know about forensic evidence and how little of it they need to put someone away?" Face shook his head with another chuckle. "But what am I saying, of course you don't, or you wouldn't have tried to kill me in here too."
"Why would they even come looking in here in the first place?" Clydesdale was so delightfully dumb, Face thought.
"For a start when she goes missing and the police ask her father if they have any enemies, who do you think he's going to tell them about?"
"Me…"
"Then they've got probable cause, are issued a warrant and search your entire yard." Face smiled. "Now, you've got a whole lot of land out there. I say, we march her off into the woods, shoot her there and let the critters do away with any evidence." He paused, letting Clydesdale come to his own decision; if he pushed him too quickly for an answer all of his work could become undone. They needed Andy outside for anything to go down; the last thing any of them wanted was for Andy to take a hit during the crossfire, and in the confines of the shed, that could happen too easily.
"I like the way you think."
"I knew you would." Face holstered his pistol and turned back to Andy while goon one and goon two opened the door. Clydesdale and goon three were waiting for their guests to walk ahead, so Face slowly helped Andy to her feet, trying very hard to stay in character. She struggled against him a little too convincingly, and Face considered that perhaps she hadn't understood his plea a minute ago. Still he continued to play the part as they stepped back out into the light of day. As soon as all six of them had cleared the shed, that's when Face grabbed Andy and shoved her towards the cover of a few dozen stacked logs.
"Hey!" Clydesdale called out and Face could almost hear each of the goons reaching for their pieces, but it was the sound of semi-automatic fire that filled the air and caused the creeps to scatter before they could open fire.
Andy was clearly frightened and the sounds of gunfire done little to calm her already frayed nerves. Face held her, feeling her shaking and all he wanted to do was apologise but right now, he needed to back up his team.
"Andy! Look at me." Face ordered as he untied the cloth from the back of her head, so she could be finally free of the gag. It was tied so tightly and her beautiful hair was matted up in the knot. "Stay down, out of sight. Once I tell you to run, you make for the gate, call the police." She nodded at his instructions once her mouth was free. Face cupped her cheek and looked her right in the eyes. "You're getting out of here, believe me." She nodded again and closed her eyes, fresh tears running down her face.
With a deep breath, the lieutenant peered around the huge trunks of the harvest trees, and aimed his pistol at one of the goons who had managed to pin Murdock down. A few well placed bullets at the guys feet had him on the run, and looking for more suitable cover, but as he ran, Murdock was able to return fire from his position on a shed roof. The goon fell holding his left leg, his weapon tumbling out of reach, not that the injured man had any intension of firing back.
Face took Andy by the hand and ran her to fresh cover while Murdock once again laid down suppressing fire. By now Face could hear the familiar screeching as the team van came charging through the fence from the north side of the yard. None of the goons expected reinforcements to come from that direction, and the surprise was enough to distract them. Two of Clydesdales men returned fire at the van and Hannibal who was firing from the comfort of Face's usual seat. The lieutenant smiled as B.A expertly steered the van so the back end sling-shot round, and knocked the two gun-toting imbeciles off their feet. They went down like dominos, unconscious from the impact, clearing the way for Hannibal to exit and start to press their advantage home on Clydesdale, who had been backed into a corner.
"Ok Andy, go." Face ordered since during the fire fight he had managed to get her a clear run to the gate.
"John I-"
"Call me Templeton." He said gently and placed a tender kiss on her fore-head. "Go, now." He urged her on, and it was with some reluctance that she finally done as he asked, and made a bee-line for freedom. He watched her get clear before rushing back to help with the last of the clean up, some how running right into Clydesdale who was running to escape Hannibal.
The business man reacted on instinct, throwing a punch straight into Face's gut and right away the pain from his already bruised chest flared up with the impact. It was now, the memory of his acquisition of that injury returned. Clydesdale was a big guy compared to the much sleeker lieutenant, and his blows were comparable to that of B.A. It had only taken a few well placed blows to Face's midsection before the bones started to weaken…
The memory of the attack, as well as the pain of the current one, caused more disorientation, but Face wasn't about to roll over and give in. This time it was just Clydesdale, and this time the lieutenant was able to fight back.
The training Face had undergone in the army had been ingrained into every fibre of his being, and while he so often preferred not to fight, that didn't mean he couldn't hold his own. Guys like Clydesdale who were twice his size, were often surprised by the effectiveness of one of Face's punches, because it wasn't the power of the blow, it was area of impact that mattered most. But first he had to defend himself from the onslaught of Clydesdale, which wasn't going to be difficult. The sleeze had honed in on Face's injury, and every punch he threw was directed there, so it was easy for Face to dodge and block before staggering Clydesdale with two successive blows to the centre of the chest. The impact had the desired effect, Clydesdale started to almost choke, unable to breathe in and Face, slighty winded still smiled as the look of terror and confusion filled the other mans eyes.
Shocked and winded, but Clydesdale was far from down. As the large, blond brute lunged forward again, aiming again for Face's vulnerable left side, the lieutenant side stepped gracefully and launched two more blows into the lower left side of Clydesdale's back. The pain radiating out into the body of his victim was amplified by two more blows into the same area, and finally Clydesdale was down, rolling in some pain as he struggled to shake off the terror that gripped him.
Face glared down at the man, his own breathing ragged and pained but he was no where near the condition of Clydesdale. Knowing the bastard wouldn't give up, even when beaten, the lieutenant finished the job with a kick to the mans face, robbing Clydesdale of consciousness, and allowing Face to finally relax.
With a weary sigh, followed by a wince, Face turned to head back to the rest of his team, who had rounded up the goons and had paused to watch their friend exact his revenge. Hannibal gave him a customary thumbs-up, while Murdock and B.A applauded. Face might have taken a bow, if he was sure he wouldn't topple over.
It had been two days since the fight at the Clydesdale lumber yard and it was still the main news story. While the McGregor's done their best to limit any mention of involvement from the renegade unit, known only as the A-Team, it wasn't long before one reporter had put all the pieces together and was now informing America.
Andy switched off the TV and turned to face the rest of the room with a sigh.
"Sorry guys, honestly none of us told the reporters a thing." She assured and Face shrugged, his hands still in the pockets of his black leather jacket. He paused though as he realised (and not for the first time in those last few days) that Murdock was stood right behind him, looking at his backside. The lieutenant shuffled further from his strange friend and joined Andy on the sofa; putting his arm comfortably around her while Hannibal spoke.
"Don't worry, Andy. We've known a few reporters in our time and their ability to sniff out a story is strong."
"I guess this means you'll be leaving then?" Daniel asked, he and his brother Jack looking just as disappointed by the news report. Mr McGregor was stood shaking his head.
"I'm afraid so." Hannibal confirmed their fears and Face had to admit part of him was a little reluctant to leave. "Now that Face is fit enough to travel, we'll be heading back to LA."
"Fit to travel yes, he's not to go beating heads together for another week at least." Andy admonished Hannibal seeing the colonel smile and nod.
"You have my word; the lieutenant will do nothing but rest for at least a week. But we really need to get going guys, it won't take Decker long to act on this news report."
Face stood from the sofa, feeling the slightest twinge from his chest, but was assisted by Andy as they headed outside. Mr McGregor was busy shaking the team hands, as was Daniel and Jack, and Face had to admit this was one of the hardest goodbyes he'd ever had to do. These people had saved his life and opened up their home to him, those few days he'd lived amongst them, had been some of the most blissful he could remember. For the first time in over ten years, he knew what it was to lead a normal life, a taste of what it might be like, to not be on the run…
The amnesia might have gone, but as Face held Andy in his arms one last time, and shared a brief tender kiss, he was beginning to understand the lasting effects.
John Doe had been a lucky man. And he wished he could be that man again.