maan: Thanks :)
lunaz: Heh, thanks :D Yeah, I had fun writing the, uh, conversation between Face and Hannibal ;)
mlpsunflower: You're welcome :) Thanks for the review ;)
Hannibal had barely dropped off to sleep when there was a loud knock on the door and he jerked awake again, sitting up and fumbling at the table for the bedside light.
"Huh? Face? That you?"
"Colonel, can you think a any reason why Face'd knock on his own bedroom door?"
Hannibal groaned and lay back down again. "Murdock, it's—" he checked his clock— "half past three in the morning. Can't it wait?"
Murdock sauntered in, looking indecently alert for someone at half past three in the morning.
"Sure colonel. I just wondered if you could tell me why Face is takin' a shower at this time."
It came as no surprise to Hannibal that BA – just across the hallway – had slept through his and Face's argument (including the lieutenant's door slamming) and Murdock – on the other side of the apartment – had not. The pilot was an extremely light sleeper.
Heck, he probably woke up before I did.
"Face..." Hannibal began, then stopped. Somehow he didn't think Face would want the rest of the Team knowing about this. "I, uh, I had a nightmare. Woke him up."
Murdock didn't say anything. He didn't have to; his expression as he looked to Face's bed with the sweat-soaked sheets and pillows strewn all over the place and then to the far neater affair Hannibal was sitting on was answer enough.
"We swapped beds," Hannibal added. "Face said I could use his and he'd find somewhere else to sleep." That last part was probably true; somehow the colonel didn't think Face would be returning to the bedroom after what had just happened...although with BA in the master bedroom, himself in the spare room and Murdock in the lounge, Hannibal couldn't help wondering where Face was planning to sleep; in the bath, perhaps.
"Uh huh." Murdock looked skeptical and Hannibal remembered too late that although the pilot might be crazy (operative word there being might; he still hadn't figured out how much of an act it was) he wasn't stupid. "So if you had the nightmare, colonel, how come Faceman was the one in the shower? An' if that bed you're sittin' on is his, how come his watch is over there by that other one?"
"He lent it to me."
Murdock nodded towards the watch around Hannibal's wrist. "Somethin' wrong with yours?"
"Yeah, battery's gone. Face said I could borrow his."
Voice calm, almost a monotone, Murdock said, "Sure, colonel. That's gonna come in real handy when you're asleep. Funny though; I didn't think Rolex had added an alarm clock to their wristwatches. 'Sides, your radio alarm seems to be workin' okay, so why'd you switch now an' not in the mornin'?"
Hannibal fixed the pilot with a hard look, which Murdock ignored. "I don't see that's got anything to do with you, captain."
"It does when someone's lyin' about one a my friends, Hannibal!"
That was only to be expected, Hannibal knew. Murdock's loyalty to his friends bordered on the fanatical; he'd take a bullet for them without even thinking about it, or take on anybody who looked like they were going to hurt them either physically or emotionally.
"I'm not lying about anyone, Murdock."
"That's good to know, colonel. What's Face doin' in the shower?"
"I don't know. Why don't you ask him yourself?"
Actually, now that he thought about it, that wasn't such a bad idea. Murdock seemed to be the sole exception to Face's anti-trust rule, although now that Hannibal thought about that, the pilot was the exception to most rules. Still, if the lieutenant had confided in anyone, it would be him.
"Murdock?"
"Yeah?"
"Did Face say anything to you about a nightmare?"
Murdock's face was completely unreadable as he answered, "Why would Face say anythin' to me about a nightmare? You were the one who had it, colonel."
He pivoted on his heel and strode out, banging Hannibal's long-suffering door behind him.
Great, Hannibal. Now you have two of your men mad at you. Nice going.
The colonel turned the light off and lay back down again, staring into the darkness. Some people might have found it hard to sleep under similar circumstances, but Hannibal had mastered the art of dropping off anytime, anywhere in 'Nam. Ten minutes later, he was asleep and didn't wake up until his alarm started its cheerful bleeping four hours later.
The scent of bacon and eggs drifted through, making Hannibal's stomach growl hopefully as he got out of bed and got dressed.
BA was already awake and sitting at the small table, munching his way through his third piece of toast while Murdock fried bacon and mixed up an omelet the size of a dinner plate. The pilot was a good cook; even Face, who was usually far more paranoid about putting on weight than most girls Hannibal had met, had been known to go back for seconds.
"Mornin' colonel!" Murdock's voice was as cheerful as ever, and Hannibal found himself wondering if he'd somehow dreamed their conversation last night.
"Morning Murdock. BA."
BA, who had just chosen that moment to fill his mouth with half a piece of toast, made a kind of grunting noise that signified a greeting and went back to his meal. The sergeant was never a great one for conversation at mealtimes.
"You guys seen Face?" Hannibal added.
BA shook his head.
"Yeah, I did, colonel." Murdock glanced over his shoulder. "He went out for a walk just after I finished talkin' to you last night. Ain't come back yet."
Hannibal stared at the pilot. "What? He went out for a walk at three thirty am and you didn't stop him?"
BA swallowed his food. "Hannibal, I'm startin' to worry 'bout Face. He been actin' strange ever since he heard that song."
Hannibal didn't answer. BA had no idea about Face's nightmare, and the colonel wanted to keep it that way. The sergeant, however, had never needed an answer or encouragement to voice his opinion.
"You guys remember how he got that time in the POW camp back in 'Nam? Wouldn't talk. Man, he wouldn't even nod or shake his head! Guy just went right inside himself and wouldn't come out."
Murdock turned a quelling stare on BA. "Uh huh. And do you remember just whose fault that was, sergeant?"
There was no trace of insanity or levity in his voice, just a sharpness that made Hannibal wonder for the hundredth time whether Murdock was really crazy or just one heck of an actor.
BA didn't answer, which was answer enough in itself. The incident had happened back in the POW camp, when Hannibal had been working on earning the lieutenant's trust for an entire month only to have BA destroy it all with a few badly chosen words.
The results had been devastating. Face had withdrawn so far inside himself that he'd stopped speaking, not just to Hannibal but to everyone else in the camp. That had been one of the few times Hannibal had seen Murdock pull rank, ordering BA out of the billet. The sergeant had been so taken aback at being chewed out by a furious Murdock that he'd obeyed without thinking about it.
Of course, Face was a lot younger then. The colonel wasn't too worried about it happening again; the present Face was a far cry from the lost and terrified twenty year old kid that had wound up in the POW camp all those years ago. Whatever was bugging the lieutenant, Hannibal was sure Face could handle it.
Hannibal was just starting his second cup of coffee while waiting for Murdock to finish cooking his breakfast when the apartment door clicked open and Face walked in. He looked tired, but a lot calmer than he had earlier.
"Hi guys." Face crossed over to the coffee machine, poured out a cup of coffee, chugged it and poured out another without hesitating.
"Morning kid." Hannibal's voice was deceptively casual. "How'd you sleep?"
"Great. Fine. Couldn't be better. You?"
Hannibal kept half an eye on the younger man as he answered, "Well, something woke me up around three am."
The lieutenant shrugged as he sat down at the table. "Yeah, same here. Next door's cats were fighting."
That, Hannibal had learned, was a typical Face answer. It sounded like an explanation until you actually stopped to think about it and realised that it was just a completely unrelated statement.
"Is that what woke you up, Face? Next door's cats fighting?"
"Well, they were pretty loud, Hannibal."
"I didn't ask you if they were loud, kid; I asked you if the noise made by next door's cats fighting woke you up at any time last night." Satisfied he hadn't left any loopholes for the lieutenant to wriggle through, Hannibal leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows.
"Well, you got it better'n Hannibal here." Murdock deposited a cooked breakfast in front of Hannibal before Face had to reply. "He told me he had a nightmare."
The lieutenant blinked. "You had a nightmare?"
"Sure Face." Hannibal sipped at his coffee. "You remember. You said I could use your bed and you went to sleep in the...where did you sleep in the end?"
"I didn't. Well, couldn't. I went out for a walk. Found Markham's place, it's right up the other end of town. About five miles away."
Hannibal raised his eyebrows. He wasn't surprised Face hadn't gone back to sleep after the nightmare he'd had. At least the lieutenant had done something to take his mind off it.
"Nice. Did you get a look inside?"
Face shook his head. "No. Markham's got guard dogs and they were getting kinda antsy when I was there. The whole property's walled off. I tried climbing the wall to get a better look, but there's broken glass all along the top."
"Broken glass?" Hannibal glanced at him. "Are you alright?"
"What? Oh. Yeah, I didn't touch it. The dogs were going nuts at that point and I just wanted to get out."
Hardly surprising, the colonel thought, amused. With the exception of Billy, Face really wasn't a dog person.
"So having walked five miles there, you then walked five miles back?"
"Yeah. Well, I mean, I couldn't stay out all night and five miles...it was only about an hour's walk."
"Why didn't you take the van?"
Face shrugged. "Like I said, I felt like a walk. Besides, BA sleeps with the keys under his pillow, I'm not about to sneak into his room and stick my hand underneath him while he's asleep. I might wake him up."
"Faceman, you couldn't wake this mudsucker up if you put a bomb under his pillow." Murdock flipped Face's omelet and BA's second helping of bacon in the pan, decided both were cooked enough and headed over to the table with them. "Ain't that right, big guy?"
"I wish I had a bomb to put under your pillow, fool!"
"Oh, I see. That's the thanks I get for slavin' all day over a hot stove, huh?" Murdock switched the second helping of bacon from BA's plate to Hannibal's.
"Thanks Murdock," Hannibal said without looking up, while BA smouldered gently in the background.
"So what's the plan, Hannibal?" Face wanted to know around bites of omelet.
"Well, Face, since you went on a little recon mission of your own last night – or rather, earlier this morning – and found out where Markham's place is, I think you and I oughta pay him a little visit."
Face put down his fork. "How did I know you were gonna say that?"
The colonel grinned. "I think you're getting to know me, lieutenant. And on the subject of last night—"
It really was amazing how quick Face could be when he wanted to, he thought as the lieutenant shot to his feet so fast he knocked his chair over.
"Yeah, well, you know, Hannibal, I think I'll go wait by the van. Keep an eye out."
"Face, I was just gonna ask you if you can find your way back in daylight."
The lieutenant, who had already reached the door, turned, red in the face. "...Oh. Yeah, sure I can. It's pretty straightforward, you just get on the road outside, turn left and keep going. I'll, uh, I'll see you downstairs."
"What's with him?" BA demanded.
"I dunno, big guy. Mebbe Hannibal's nightmare freaked him out." Murdock lifted Face's bacon off the plate and placed it lovingly in one of the bowls on the floor that he'd appropriated for Billy's use.
Hannibal inserted one of the Missing flyers into the pilot's now rather greasy hand.
"Murdock, go out around town and ask around, see what you can find out about this girl. She's local, so people must know something about her. And take BA with you."
"What? Hannibal, I ain't goin' nowhere with this crazy fool!"
"Yes, you are, BA, because two of you will cover more ground and people find it harder to say no to you. Face and I'll head up to see this Markham guy and we'll meet back here in two hours."
Picking up his gun, the colonel tucked it into his waistband, then paused as he thought of something else.
"Oh, and see if you can find out if there was any connection between Markham and Rita, or Chrissy Allen."
"You think he knows somethin', colonel?"
"He must have some reason for clamping down on those flyers." Hannibal grinned. "Besides, you know what they say, captain. Most kidnappings or attacks are done by people you know."
He strolled out the front door and down to the van, where he found Face had abandoned the idea of keeping watch in favour of a quick nap in the passenger seat.
Half amused, half annoyed, the colonel opened the door and stared down at him.
"This is what you call keeping an eye out, kid?" If the MPs had shown up while the lieutenant was snoozing...
Face didn't react. Considering he'd had no more than three hours' sleep the night before, and most of that hadn't been exactly peaceful, coupled with a ten mile walk/run, Hannibal supposed it wasn't surprising the lieutenant had dozed off. He didn't seem to be enjoying it, though; sweat was standing out on his forehead and he was squirming. Not quite thrashing around like he had last night, but he wasn't far off.
"Face?"
Face didn't give any sign he'd heard the colonel, which was surprising. Usually he wasn't a particularly heavy sleeper (unless, of course, it was his turn to take the night watch, in which case it took the combined efforts of both Hannibal and Murdock to drag him out of bed).
"Face!" Hannibal reached down and shook the lieutenant.
Seconds later he'd been seized and slammed to the ground. His head hit the sidewalk with an audible crack and such force that stars pinwheeled crazily across his vision. He could just about make out Face's fist drawn back to its owner's shoulder for a blow that would break Hannibal's jaw if it connected.
Hannibal held himself perfectly still, partly because he didn't want to aggravate the situation, partly because he was feeling too dazed to move, but mostly because Face's other hand was around his throat. Unlike amateurs, who went for the Adam's apple, the lieutenant's hand was wedged just above it, and the colonel knew it would only take a tiny amount of pressure to cut off his air supply completely. The attack had been so fast, so unexpected, that Hannibal hadn't had time to even think of countering it.
"Face!" This time he put all the reassurance into his voice that he could manage. "Face, it's me!"
He could pinpoint the exact moment when sanity returned; the wild, terrified look went out of Face's eyes to be replaced with shock.
"Hannibal?"
"Yeah." Hannibal gestured towards Face's hand. "You mind letting go of my throat now?"
Face stared at his hand as though wondering how it had got there, then jerked away like he'd been burned and pushed himself to his feet, appalled at what he'd just done. What he'd almost done.
"Oh man. Hannibal, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just...I don't know what came over me, I thought you were—" He broke off abruptly, looking away. "Sorry."
"What?" Hannibal got to his feet and touched the back of his head experimentally, brought away fingers sticky with blood. "You thought I was what, Face?"
"Nothing. Nothing. I'm fine."
"You're not fine, kid, you're a nervous wreck. Now talk to me, dammit!"
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm okay now, Hannibal. I'm okay." Face ran trembling hands over his face and through his hair, then took a deep breath and seemed to calm down. "Where're the others?"
"People who are okay don't try to strangle other people, lieutenant. Especially not their commanding officer."
"I said I was sorry, didn't I? What more do you want?"
"An explanation would be nice."
"What's to explain?" The lieutenant's face was masklike, eyes hooded and wary. Hannibal could practically hear mental doors slamming shut. "You should know better than to wake someone who's having a bad dream."
"You never went nuts like that before, kid."
Face looked away again and Hannibal realised the lieutenant hadn't just slammed the doors; he'd barricaded them and wrapped barbed wire around the handles for good measure.
"Yeah, well."
"Is that it?" Hannibal asked him after several seconds. "Five minutes ago I was flat on my back with your hand around my throat and looking at a little emergency dental work, and all the explanation I get from you is yeah, well?"
"Yeah. Well." Face gave a short laugh and leaned back against the van, looking up at the sky, which seemed indecently blue and cheerful for his mood. "Like I said, you shouldn't have woken me up."
"And you shouldn't have fallen asleep on watch!" Hannibal snapped, not missing a beat.
That shut Face up, at least temporarily.
"Yeah. Sorry." That at least sounded genuine. "I don't know what happened."
"Oh, then allow me to explain. You had about three hours' broken sleep and a screaming nightmare followed by a five mile hike, several climbs up a twenty foot wall and another five mile hike back again. It's no wonder you're tired, kid, but if you knew you couldn't stay awake you should've said something!"
"I didn't plan to fall asleep, Hannibal! I just...I was just resting my eyes for a few seconds. It won't happen again. I just...I didn't..." The lieutenant spun away, slamming a hand into the side of the van.
Hannibal leaned against the door, puffing on his cigar, and waited for Face to break the silence.
He didn't have to wait long. The lieutenant paced back and forth in front of him a grand total of twice before stopping and spinning to face him.
"This is crazy! It was a song, just a song! I don't know why you're making such a big deal of it!"
The colonel raised his eyebrows. "Who said anything about a song, Face?"
Face stared at him. It was the first time Hannibal had ever seen the younger man lost for words. The lieutenant had pulled a knife on him back in the POW camp, but even Hannibal could admit that it had been mostly his own fault. This was something completely different.
"But since you mentioned the song—" Hannibal added.
"That's got nothing to do with you!"
The colonel sighed, dropping his cigar butt onto the ground and treading it out. "Well, at least we've moved on from the nothing's wrong with me story."
"Nothing is wrong with me, Hannibal."
Hannibal gripped Face's shoulder and spun the younger man around to face him.
"Don't insult my intelligence, kid. I haven't seen you this edgy since that incident with Jones in the POW camp. You remember that?"
Face gave him a long look. "I try not to."
"Yeah." The incident in question had been a particularly nasty one, and despite what had just happened, Hannibal felt a twinge of conscience for reminding the lieutenant of it. "So what's your problem?"
"My problem is that I have you on my back twenty four seven!"
"That's not fair and you know it, lieutenant!" Anger and concern both made Hannibal's voice sharper than he'd intended, causing a few heads to turn in their direction.
"No, I don't know it, Hannibal! Okay, I screwed up. I fell asleep on watch and you know what? I'm sorry. I really am, okay? But it's no – big – deal!"
"It would have been a big deal if Decker had showed up, Face!"
"Yeah, but he didn't. Look, I won't do it again, Hannibal, I swear."
Hannibal didn't answer. Face wasn't the first person to be a little disorientated upon being woken from a nightmare, but there had been something more than that. For a split second, the lieutenant had looked terrified.
"What were you dreaming about?"
A little annoyed that his changing the subject onto Decker hadn't worked, Face shrugged. "Nothing. I don't remember."
"C'mon kid." Hannibal caught hold of the lieutenant again. "Trust me."
"Yeah. You know, Hannibal, it's kinda hard to trust someone who doesn't trust you," Face retorted, with some truth. "For the last time, it's okay! I'm okay!"
Hannibal studied him for a few minutes without speaking, as though he could look right through the lieutenant's eyes and find the answer written on the inside of his skull. He let the silence between them stretch out until Face started to look uncomfortable before speaking.
"Alright, Face. Maybe you're right. I do trust you, and if you say it's okay, then it's okay." He paused. "But if that changes..."
"Yeah, sure, you'll be the first to know." There was a little too much relief in Face's voice for Hannibal's liking, but he let it go.
It was just a song, after all. A song and a couple bad dreams. If he says it's okay, then it's okay.
But he still couldn't forget the look of terror on the lieutenant's face.
The house was attractive-looking, American mock-Tudor set back in a long gravel driveway that ran straight up to the front porch and from there around the house, flanked by flower borders on either side. Other borders – most circular – were planted at regular intervals in the grounds and the splashing of water drew Hannibal's attention to what could have passed for either a huge fish pond or quite a small swimming pool.
"Nice place," Face commented.
It was a little more than nice. Any casual visitors would most likely have drawn the same conclusion, but Hannibal could see the landscape had been very carefully designed. Not from an aesthetic point of view – or rather, not just from an aesthetic point of view – but from a defensive one.
There were no trees. No shrubs. Not even a small box hedge; just flowers in borders and a gravel driveway which surrounded the house for twenty feet on every side. In short, this was a house that would be impossible to sneak up on unless the inhabitants happened to be wearing blindfolds and ear plugs. Contrary to Face's description, however, there was no sign of any dogs. Maybe that was more of a nocturnal security measure.
"Think this Markham character might be a little paranoid?" he said aloud.
Face raised his eyebrows. "Could be, Hannibal. 'Course, the question is, why?"
"I've no idea, Face. What do you say we go ask him?"
"I think that would be a very good idea."
It was almost as if nothing had happened, the little double act between Hannibal and Face, unless you really looked closely at the lieutenant and saw the signs. A smile that was a little more brittle than usual. A tendency to fidget, and jerk at sudden noises. And an air of preoccupation that meant BA had had to bark Face's name in the lieutenant's ear to get a reaction earlier on, and then almost had his nose broken.
When they pulled up, Face opened the door and leapt out before the van had finished moving. By the time Hannibal had caught up to him, the lieutenant had already rung the doorbell.
"Face?"
"Hannibal, if you tell me to talk to you one more time, I am going to take that cigar of yours and I am going to stub it out on your—hi there," Face interrupted himself, sliding from defensive to charming with barely a hint of mental gear crunching as the front door opened to reveal a maid. "I'm Templeton Peck; this here's Hannibal Smith. We're here to see Jack Markham."
"Do you have an appointment?"
The lieutenant's grin broadened. "Now do you think we'd come all the way here if we didn't have an appointment?"
"Mr Markham says he doesn't know anything about Chrissy Allen." The words had a mechanical feel to them, as though she'd said them hundreds of times already and could see herself saying them hundreds of times more in the future.
"Who?" Hannibal's innocent expression wouldn't have disgraced a professional actor. "You know a Chrissy Allen, Face?"
Face's look was equally bland. "No, can't say that I do, Hannibal. Anyway, Mr Markham is expecting us. He spoke with our boss on that business trip, you know, the one he just got back from, and our boss sent us down here."
"Mr Markham hasn't been on any business trip, sir."
The lieutenant blinked, exchanging a startled glance with Hannibal. "Well...that's strange. That's not what our employer said."
Hannibal let out a frustrated groan. "Oh, not again! That's the third time this month, I've been telling him for ages, he really needs a new secretary!"
"Well, maybe if he spent a little more time doing his job and a little less time helping her with hers..." Face cleared his throat meaningfully and quirked an eyebrow at the colonel, then returned his attention to the maid. "Look ma'am, it's probably just a mix up but we were still given this address and—"
"Mr Markham isn't seeing anyone today, sir."
"Yeah, but—"
The slammed door cut Face off and he turned to Hannibal with a sheepish shrug.
"Ah. Well. Uh."
"You're losing your touch, kid."
"I am not! I've just...I've had a lot on my mind recently. I got this, Hannibal. It's no big deal." Face skirted around the windows, eyeing them speculatively. There was a half open one next to the front door that had possibilities...
Hannibal frowned as he watched him. Face had been polite, sure, but hadn't even bothered trying to charm the maid or flirt with her...and she'd been supremely worth flirting with, in the colonel's opinion. He and Face had the same kind of taste in women (although admittedly Face was far less choosy) and the blue eyed, dark haired young thing was very much the lieutenant's style.
He didn't have time to wonder about it for very long, however, since that was the moment when the first of two heavily armed security guards rounded the corner of the building.
Hannibal's first observation was that the IQ of this pair – like so many others the Team had dealt with – seemed to be roughly on a par with their shoe sizes. The second observation was that he'd seen both of them while driving through Sacheton the day before.
Both these observations entered his head more or less simultaneously, and then had to move out very fast to make room for the third observation; namely that the automatic weapons they were carrying were now pointing at his and Face's chests.
Okay, so that's it for now :) Hope you liked it and if you read, please review!