CHAPTER NINE

August 27, 1978

Face had never brought guests to his apartment. Even the team had not been here, although they all had the address. With its stained and well-worn maroon carpet and mold-damaged walls, it wasn't the kind of place to host a party. Jessica hesitated on the first step inside, staring at the floor where her children were expected to sleep.

"It's not dirty," Face assured, seeing the expression of horror. "Just stained. But I can put a tarp down if it'll make you feel better."

"That's very kind of you," Momma answered when Jessica could not find words.

Face was confident, as Momma gave the living room a once-over, that she would find no dust on the rickety ceiling fan or mud on the cinderblock shelving against the far wall. A bi-weekly cleaning bill saw to that, whether he was here or not. There wouldn't be cockroaches running from the beams of the single, bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. But the walls were old, and the paint was peeling. Face couldn't be bothered to fix the structural messes of a place he rarely visited. It was a safe house, nothing more.

"As I said, it's not much," he apologized, opening the screen-less windows to drive out the musty smell with the cool summer breeze. "I don't spend much time here."

"We don't require much," Momma replied with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

He gave them the grand tour of the simple bathroom, empty kitchen, and single bedroom with a shockingly comfortable queen-sized bed - the one thing out of place amongst the piecemeal furniture. As Momma directed the kids toward the bathroom to wash up before bed, Jessica set up a port-a-cot for the baby and Face readied the newly-purchased sleeping bags. Then he was unloading groceries while Momma orchestrated towels, toothbrushes, pajamas, and sleeping bags with army-ingrained efficiency. Even so, the process took twice as long as he'd expected it would.

Once Sarah was settled in her cot, Jessica kissed the kids goodnight and sent them off with Momma to their sleeping bags in the bedroom. Just before closing the door behind them, Momma gestured to Face, directing his attention to the woman who'd moved to the window in the living room. She stood there silent, staring out and hugging herself, oblivious to Momma's attention. Face was well enough able to take the hint, though, and he answered with a polite smile and a nod of understanding.

Standing in the mouth of the hallway, leaning against the wall with his unhurt shoulder, he sincerely wished he had more to offer than this run down place. He would've been happier to watch their motel room, if he was honest. But they were secure here, and he could keep an eye on them. Maybe he'd even find out what the hell was going on.

"You okay?" he asked as Jessica lit a cigarette with slightly shaky hands.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, and fidgeted as she tried to compose herself. "Yes," she stammered. "Yes, I'm fine."

She took a drag and coughed, holding her throat. Coming closer, Face slid one hand behind her back and took the cigarette with the other, leaning over to put it out in the ashtray resting on the sill. She'd already gone through half a pack since they'd arrived.

"You shouldn't do that," he said quietly. "Not when your lungs are already burned."

"My lungs are fine," she croaked, but she didn't bother looking at him.

She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face, and her fingers caught in the knots. Frustrated, she ripped through it before hiding her face, head shaking. "What am I supposed to tell the kids?" she muttered.

He could smell the vulnerability. It would be easy to get answers from her right now, but there was no telling what kind of damage it might do to her already-fragile psyche. With a sigh, he took the pack of cigarettes away as she reached for them again, and dropped his head to catch her gaze.

"Worry about that later," he instructed. "Right now, go take a shower. Get some sleep."

She tried to glare at him, failed miserably, and instead looked away. He stepped aside to let her gaze sweep the room. "So this is where you live?" she asked quietly.

"Sort of," he admitted with a shrug. "I don't spend much time here."

"It doesn't match the car," she pointed out. "Or the fancy dinners, or the expensive clothes."

He smiled faintly. "I spend more time in the car and the clothes."

"Where do you stay, if not here?" She rested her head back on the window frame, eyes closed.

"Oh, work takes me... out of town a lot." That much was true. "And when I'm here, I usually have places to go. People to see. You know."

"Women?" she quipped. "Hotel rooms?"

He shrugged, flashing a smile as she afforded him a quick glance.

"Some things never change," she sighed, looking away.

"If it makes you feel any better," he offered, "none of them have ever been here."

"Why should I care?" she challenged with a weak attempt at indignant disgust.

"Well, I just figured since you'll be sleeping in my bed..."

This time, she didn't have to try. The groan escaped and she snatched her cigarettes out of his hand again.

"Go take a shower, Jess," he directed, the smile falling into a comforting tone as he took a small step back. "Get some rest. We'll worry about tomorrow in the morning. Okay?"

She studied him for a long moment, then stared at the unlit cigarette between her fingers. Then, finally, she slipped it back into the pack and nodded. "Okay," she agreed reluctantly.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek briefly, far more a friendly gesture than a romantic one. "There should be a towel in the closet," he informed her. "Shouldn't be hard to find. It's probably the only thing in there."

At the entrance to the hallway, she stopped. His eyes were drawn to her in the long moment of hesitation before she finally turned back and looked at him inquisitively. "Why?" she finally asked.

He raised a brow, but she didn't clarify the question. With a shake of her head, she turned again and headed for the bathroom. Staring after her, he smiled to himself. He was glad she hadn't pressed for an answer, because he wasn't entirely sure what he would've told her. There were plenty of reasons he shouldn't have wanted to touch this problem with a ten foot pole, no matter what it really contained at the core, and no good reason he should get any further embedded in her problems. He supposed, as he sat down on the edge of the lumpy and distinctly uncomfortable sofa, it was simply his good deed for the day. Or, more accurately, his works of satisfaction. Besides, who better to help with people willing to blow up your house than a member of the A-Team? Just another afternoon walk in the park…

October 16, 1968

The definition of a "camp" was fairly fluid. Still, there were a few things Face never expected to see in an enemy camp. Homes with women cooking in fire pits and happy, naked children running in the streets were not generally part of a "camp". They were, however, part of the site that greeted them on the other end of their trek through the jungle.

"That's the little camp?" Cipher whispered, stunned.

"I never said it was little," Decker growled back.

"You never said it was full of civilians, either," Face said flatly. "That's what I would call a village."

"Far as I'm concerned," Decker declared, "that's an enemy base and the people in it are the enemy."

Cipher hesitated. "Actually, he's probably right," he said, casting a quick glance at Face. It looks like they just sort of took over the village. Most of them have gotta be VC."

Face frowned as he traced the dirt road as far as he could see it. The shape and materials of the buildings told him it had been a Montagnard village first. There were other, more sophisticated structures now, too - hastily constructed, but with supplies shipped from somewhere else. There were no surrounding rice paddies either, and the little gardens near the houses were not enough to feed as many people as were on the street. They were importing food.

"What I wanna know," Face said, casting a cold look in Decker's direction, "is how the hell your men didn't know about this."

"What I wanna know is what we're gonna do about it," Cipher redirected, moving back.

With a deep sigh, Face turned and put his back up against the tree nearest him, reaching for water from his pack. "What is that village?" Face asked, keeping one eye on Decker as he moved a few yards away to a better vantage point, then glancing at the two Yards who'd come with them. "Or what was it before the VC took it over?"

One of the men shook his head. "It not there six month ago."

"Not three month ago," the other added.

Face tipped his head to look at the village through the slit in the leafy branches. "Then why's it there now?"

"Does it matter?" Cipher asked, sincerely.

Face sighed. "Of course it matters. It makes a big difference for who's in that camp."

"I can go around," Cipher offered. "Get the layout."

Face glanced at him, and considered it for a long moment. Looking once again through the leaves, he shook his head. "Our men aren't in there," he said quietly. "There's no way they'd keep them in such an unprotected area. If we were miles from nowhere then yeah, sure. But not this close to an American camp. If they made a break into the jungle, they could very well find help before they were caught." He looked up at Cipher. "Not to mention, anybody could walk into a village like that. They've only got minimal defenses."

Cipher grinned. "So are we gonna walk in?"

A slight smirk crossed Face's lips. "Hannibal would."

Face looked again at the village. Only a few of the men in the street wore NVA uniforms. For there to be any at all, they had clearly seized control of the village. But they hadn't burned it; they'd commandeered it. Maybe because it was so close to A-346. They had a reason for setting up there, and for not fortifying it like a camp. But it wasn't to hold American prisoners.

"They're not in there," Face said again. "And there's no way the five of us will take that place. At least not without killing a lot of civilians. It's not worth it. I say we come back and deal with it later - when there's more of us."

As Cipher reflected on the merits of raiding the village, Decker shrugged his shoulders out of his pack. Face took one glance at the determined look on his face and knew the situation was about to get a little sticky.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as unassumingly as possible while he watched Decker empty his pack of claymores. The man had enough C-4 to level that entire village. It was slightly disturbing to Face that he'd thought to bring it with him - and to bring that much.

"I didn't come all this way to sit here and look at the target," Decker announced, "then turn around and go home."

Face set his jaw. "What target?" he demanded. "Those are civilians."

"I see NVA uniforms in an enemy camp."

Face's eyes narrowed. "And I see women and children in a Montagnard village. You wanna talk technicalities?"

"I'm not going to debate this with you, Sergeant!" Decker spat Face's rank with enough contempt to make his intentions perfectly clear. He was not taking orders. He turned and glared at the two Yards as he gathered his charges, replacing them in the most easily accessible places in his pouch. "You two come with me."

Cipher's jaw was dropped as he watched Decker and the two Yards head away. Then he turned and stared at Face, stunned. "What the fuck is he doing?"

"I don't know," Face answered quietly. Actually, he had a pretty good idea. He put his water back in his pack before pushing off the tree, following Decker. "Come on."

Decker opted for speed over stealth. By the time Face and Cipher reached the place where he'd left his pack - minus the claymores - he and the two Yards were across the row of gardens and between the buildings. Cipher stared, jaw dropped.

"What the hell?" he cried, dumbfounded.

"He's blowing up their munitions," Face guessed.

"No, he's not," Cipher said confidently. "Their munitions are on the other end."

Face looked toward the small buildings furthest east. They were indistinguishable. "How do you know?"

"Because one of them opened the door and I saw inside," Cipher answered. "Everything's stacked in plain sight."

"Maybe he doesn't know that," Face suggested, watching as Decker slipped out of view.

Cipher paused for a moment. "Or maybe he's just blowing up the biggest building he can find."

It only took Face a second to find the biggest building in the little village. He frowned deeply. "That's a hospital."

Cipher hesitated, color draining from his face. "He wouldn't..."

Face slipped his shoulders out of his pack. "Hannibal said not to put anything past him."

"What? Where are you going?" Cipher demanded as Face wrapped the CAR-15's strap around his arm.

"To stop him."

"What!" Somehow, that alarmed Cipher even more than the prospect of what Decker was actually planning to do. "Face, you're crazy!"

"If he's going to -"

"Face!" Cipher hissed, grabbing onto his arm to stop him. Face looked back at him and he shook his head. "He wouldn't do it. And besides, how the hell are you gonna stop him? Those are VC in there, man. You know, the bad guys? The ones with the guns who'll shoot you if they see you? You gonna argue with Decker in the middle of their camp?"

Face studied him for a long moment, then settled back down into the tall grass, watching the village silently. It was several long, agonizing minutes later that Decker reappeared, both CIDG with him, and crossed back into the overgrown jungle.

"Let's go," Decker ordered quickly.

"What did you do?" Face demanded.

Ignoring him, Decker slipped his arms into his pack. The charges were all missing. They were in the village.

"Colonel -"

The explosion was big enough to shake the ground. Acting on instinct, Face and Cipher both hit the dirt. When they looked up again, Decker and the two Yards were already heading away at a brisk pace. Face looked back just in time to see the largest building in the village crumble, amidst the screams and indistinguishable cries coming from the village. Cipher sprang to his feet. Face spent a moment longer just staring at the dust and smoke, and the people running to and from the collapsed, burning building.

Decker was already a good twenty yards away when Face got to his feet. Cipher had a head start. "What the fuck was that!" he demanded, stunned and horrified.

"I believe that was the sound of a civilian hospital blowing up," Face answered as he caught up with them, emphasizing the "civilian" part.

Cipher stepped in front of Decker. "A hospital? You blew up a fucking hospital?"

"Out of my way, Sergeant," Decker growled as he pushed past.

Cipher reacted without thinking. With one arm to hold Decker's throat, he slammed him against the nearest tree. "I asked you a question. Sir!"

Decker's knife on Cipher's ribs was met in the same instant by Cipher's pistol on Decker's chest. Their reflexes matched perfectly. Face's grip instinctively tightened around his weapon. There was no question in his mind where his loyalties lie. He didn't have to think about it. His eyes remained locked on Decker as the colonel smirked.

"You gonna shoot me, boy?" he challenged.

"Give me a reason," Cipher snarled back.

"What're you gonna say at the court martial?"

"I'll think of something."

For a long moment, they stared each other down. Finally, Face's hand on Cipher's shoulder made him take a step back, lowering the weapon. He glared at the colonel as he replaced it in his holster. "We need to get out of here," Face said quietly. "They're going to be swarming this area, looking for whoever set off those charges."

"No shit," Cipher growled. He glared at Decker. "That's why you wait until you're away from the enemy camp to blow shit up. Except that wasn't an enemy camp. It was a village with a civilian hospital!"

"Run by the Viet Cong," Decker growled.

Cipher clenched his teeth. "It. Was. A hospital!"

"Colonel!" The Yard's voice startled Face, but he didn't take his eyes off of Decker.

With one last, lingering glare, Decker walked past Cipher. For a long moment, Cipher didn't move. Face watched him, and took a step closer. "Just relax, Cipher."

"He blew up a hospital!" Cipher repeated, still struggling with the shock.

"And we couldn't have stopped him, remember?" Face put a hand on Cipher's shoulder. "Let's just get the hell out of here, huh?"

Cipher's eyes slid closed and he swallowed hard, but managed a slight nod. Face held his shoulder as he walked past, turning him in the direction that Decker had headed.

"We need to go." Face climbed over a fallen tree, coming closer to where Decker was standing. "It's not safe here."

"It's not safe anywhere," Decker growled back.

"Uh huh," Face sighed. "So can we just head back to camp and be unsafe there?"

Cipher caught up and stood beside Face. "Unless, of course, you've got some more civilians to kill," he snapped.

"There's no civilians here," Decker snarled, lifting his weapon and pointing it through the trees. "There's just us..." Face followed his line of sight, through the trees and down the hill, into the muddy stream below. "... and them."

The muddy stream with the children playing in it.

"No!"