johnnypenn (johnnypenn) wrote,
johnnypenn
johnnypenn

The Dogpatch - Chapter 2


The Dogpatch

 

Fandom – The A-Team

 

Disclaimer – I do not own the A-Team characters. I do not make any money off this piece of fiction; this is strictly for my amusement.

 

Pairing – H-BAMF

 

Rating – R/NC17

 

Summary – AU – First Lieutenant Templeton Peck finds himself in a pickle. He’s the only officer in the POW camp, nicknamed by the American’s Dogpatch – which is run by the most famous Traitor Hannibal Smith and his crew. It’s not easy to plan an escape and to keep this certain Colonel off your back, literally and figuratively.

 

Historical Notes- Dogpatch is a real POW camp that is based near the China-Vietnamese boarder. It’s a good place because at the time the people who ran the camp built it there because they knew that American policy wasn’t going to conduct any operations in that area. So, it fits my AU story line quite perfectly.

 

 

Chapter 2 – Law and Order

 

 

            The night sounds gave way to morning. Templeton woke to BA yelling at Murdock who was harassing him with a cup of coffee. It’d been a while since he’d had a cup and it made him long for the days in the American camp. Life during War was not pleasant – and he wished someone had warned him about camp life in more detail. Not enough food, water or entertainment – however, when one is stuck in a small, bamboo cage – those things you had with your buddy’s in your own camp seemed like Heaven.

 

            He’d have to make an addendum to mention that to the guys when he got back. Not if, when. He did not allow himself to believe that he’d never escape Dogpatch. At least they hadn’t been abused, yet. This was just the beginning, if they followed the rules and allowed Hannibal and his men to believe they were cowed – maybe, in time, they could get away. It wouldn’t be easy, after all Smith wasn’t given the name “Hannibal” for nothing. He was cunning. Now, Templeton knew that he had to be even more cunning than this man.

 

            Murdock ran past him with BA’s cup of hot coffee. He almost tripped over a rock and some drops slipped out. He got a taste and that was it. The two ignored him as they streaked around the yard. Just the taste made him back flash to the mess hall at Delta Zero. The last night he was there they were celebrating another Team’s victory. But no one cared. The liquor flowed freely and the music was lively and there were some women from a near by village. Of course they were whoring themselves out, but one had to do what one had to do during war and Templeton wasn’t dumb – he’d had to do the same a time or two in LA before joining up with the army. He shook himself from those thoughts. The army was an escape from one bad life and into another that had its ups and downs. This was just another down moment in the life of an Officer.

 

            He would survive.

 

            He had no choice.

 

            Murdock surprised him from these thoughts as he unlocked the cage. The chain rattled and Murdock pulled him out once the cage was open. Templeton couldn’t stand up right; the small cage had him in a bent over position that soon became painful as he tried to straighten himself out.

 

            “Are you all right, Muchacho?” Murdock asked.

 

            “Yes…erm…” Templeton licked his lips, the coffee taste was still there, “what do I call you?” he asked, supremely nervous because he didn’t see a rank and they expected something of him and he knew he had to deliver.

 

            “I’m Captain H.M. Murdock,”

 

            “Ah,” Templeton nodded, “thank you Captain,”

 

            Murdock had his arms around Templeton that kept him from face planting in the dirt. That’d be embarrassing. He hoped they wouldn’t put him back in the cage for hours yet. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to stand straight again.

 

            And then he appeared. Hannibal Smith with a lit cigar and a shit eating grin on his face. Templeton felt something clench his gut, nerves or fear, he couldn’t tell which. He did his best to try and snap to attention. His training was the only thing he could hold onto.

 

            Hannibal walked over to the table as BA appeared from the mess hut with a tray in is hands. On it was food and coffee and Templeton ignored it. He refused to give in to the Psychological aspect Hannibal had at play here. They hadn’t given him any dinner the night before, but that didn’t matter. He’d find a way to survive. That was all he had to hang onto.

 

            “Did you sleep well, Lieutenant?” Hannibal asked as he sat down to breakfast.

 

            “Yes sir,” Templeton replied blandly. What else was he supposed to say? Oh no, I didn’t because you stuck me in a tiny cage that still has me bent at a very odd angle and my back hurts like hell, thank you very much for asking though. How kind of you!

 

            He tried to not let these thoughts show on his face.

 

            “Good. Now, you and Hendrickson will be put to work today, so eat up,” and he waved a hand. Miraculously, Murdock led him to another, small court yard. The fence was high enough that they couldn’t climb it easily with barbed wire across the top. The slats between bamboo poles were small and there was chicken wire so that the Prisoners hadn’t any privacy.

 

            Seconds later Hendrickson was thrown in and Murdock put a tray of food on the ground before the gate. Then it was locked and they were left to eat and to wait for further orders. The food was rice, without maggots and a half cup of coffee.

 

            “Someone must be in a pleasant mood,” Hendrickson snarked. Templeton took his food before Hendrickson could get his dirty hands on it. From past experience, Templeton knew how much the man could eat and if you weren’t careful, that he’d steal from someone else’s plate.

 

            Hannibal gave me the run down of the rules last night,” Templeton started in on the rice. He tried to eat slowly so that he wouldn’t feel hungry.

 

            “And what did he say?” Hendrickson asked; he glanced at the Colonel who read a paper over his own breakfast no more then two yards away.

 

            “He said we are to eat everything we’re given, we have to do what they say when they say and if we disobey we’ll get whipped, he said that five lashes usually works, I dunno if he made it up though. He looked like he believes it,” Templeton reported.

 

            “And why did he only take two of us? Why not take the whole bunch?” Hendrickson asked.

 

            “I don’t know. Maybe they like being on their own or something and only do it when they need the man power, maybe the three of them can’t do everything,” he shrugged.

 

            “They’re push over’s, we’ll escape tonight,”

 

            Templeton felt all the blood rush out of his face when Hannibal looked up. He held his breath and watched. Hendrickson had his back to the Colonel and didn’t stop talking. “You and I can kill them in their sleep. They’ll never see it coming,” he chuckled.

 

            Templeton felt sick to his stomach, because Hendrickson obviously thought they were deaf and when Murdock and BA both looked up from what they were doing (feeding chickens and working on a black van) he felt doom in the air.

 

            “Now, now…Captain…isn’t that a bit rash…?” he tried. He gulped as Hendrickson glared at him.

 

            “Are you questioning orders?” he demanded.

 

            “No sir, only…only…” he tried for anything, “we don’t know where we are, or how to get back,” which was a small problem indeed.

 

            “Those bastards have maps of the area, it’ll be no sweat once they are dead,” Hendrickson chuckled again.

 

            “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Templeton muttered. He brought a hand up to his face. The point of escaping was to make sure your captors didn’t KNOW that was what you were planning.

 

            “Lieutenant!” Hendrickson snapped, “I expect you to do your duty,”

 

            “I have been doing my duty, it’s not my fault you walked us into a trap!” and there it was. His built up anger spewed out and he should have thought bout it before he said it, for seconds later a fist was in his face and they were grappling in the dirt.

 

            Hannibal probably had enough by then, for Hannibal, BA and Murdock were pulling them apart. Templeton was thrown against the fence and he let himself sag, gasping for breath; letting his temper die down. Hendrickson was cursing him and their captors. Not a good move.

 

            “Did he learn anything from those classes you get about being POW’S?” Murdock asked.

 

            “No,” Templeton shook his head, “he never showed up,”

 

            His wrists were lashed behind him with tight knots and then he was spun around. Hannibal had Hendrickson hogtied on the ground and gagged.

 

            “That was an interesting scene, fella’s,” Hannibal said. He puffed on his still lit cigar.  “I think I may have missed a rule,” he glances over at Templeton who hung his head just a little. Mostly it was trying to hide his guilt. How could he feel guilty all ready? It wasn’t his fault Hendrickson tried to assert command over him. That was how he did it, throwing punches and kicking ribs.

 

            “There will be no fighting, now I have to punish both of you,” and he looked rather pleased about it.

 

            “Okay, so we’re gonna have to keep these two separated from now on,” Hannibal said, talking to his men. “Murdock you take Peck there to the potato field out back. That’s where he’s gonna work today, and BA, you put Hendrickson back in the box, I have a feeling he’ll be giving us more trouble,”

 

            “Bossman,” Murdock spoke up, “can I put the chains on Peck? Pleeeeaaaasseeee?” he was practically begging. Templeton didn’t move an inch, he knew he deserved it. He hated that feeling though. It was like he had let Hannibal down and they didn’t even know each other. It stunk like fried fish that were rotten to the core. Stockholm syndrome, that had to be it.

 

            “Go ahead, I don’t want him thinking he’s off the hook,” Hannibal strode towards Templeton. He grabbed Templeton’s chin and yanked his head up and kept it at an angle that hurt, but that gave him a perfect view into wide, nervous blue eyes.

 

            “Because you aren’t,” he said, “I had thought you’d wait a few days before trying to escape,”

 

            Templeton held his breath, he blinked, and he didn’t know what to say. Hannibal shook him a bit. “Sir…what they say about you is true, you do know everything!” and he truly wasn’t trying to put Hannibal off his trail, not really. Before their mission he’d been told by General Morrison that Hannibal was brilliant. He knew your move before even you did!

 

            “Morrison talked to you, kid?” Hannibal asked around his cigar.

 

            “Yes sir,” Templeton replied.

 

            “He is right, about everything. You can’t escape and if you did we’d bring you back,” he chuckled, “we won’t kill you out right, we’ll let nature take its course,” and then he shook Templeton a bit, again, he was frowning now. Obviously he knew what Templeton’s accidental strategy had been. “And don’t think you can out smart me, kid, because you can’t,” and then he let Templeton go and Murdock dragged him away.

 

0-0-0

 

            The afternoon sun blazed over head as he dug up potatoes. He put each one into a basket at his side. His bare arms were getting slightly sun burn, hopefully his skin would turn brown and he wouldn’t have that pain to deal with. His back hurt not only from the small cage he hadn’t recovered from, quite yet, but also from bending in half for half the day.

 

            Not that he cared. Digging up potatoes was a mindless task. He didn’t want to think about being a POW, nor did he want to think about the chains that kept him in line. He just dug up potatoes. He let his mind wonder back to his good memories. He kept silent and he didn’t back talk Murdock when he asked him an odd question or ordered him to do something. The man had his idiocincrancies. He talked to an invisible dog that Templeton liked to think was a grey hound. Bill is the dogs name and it’s a sweet dog. The Jungle hadn’t taken that innocence away. Murdock even smiled when Templeton petted the invisible dog when Murdock had introduced them. Murdock then happily declared that Templeton was Billy’s next favorite besides himself.

 

            Lunch came and went with Murdock giving Templeton some water and bread freshly baked by BA after that fight this morning. The bread was good, squishy and tasted like home.  Sister Lily used to make bread almost like the bit he’s eating with Murdock shattering away at his side as if they were old buddies. Templeton doesn’t mind because he can pretend that he and Murdock have always been friends and he can pretend that the Sisters are busy in the kitchen with baking day.

 

            After lunch, he and Murdock brought the wagon full of potatoes back to camp. The field was two miles away from the rock ridge. The small, narrow dirt road wound its way through jungle that’d been trampled back by people passing back and forth so very often. Still, the monkeys, bugs, reptiles and other things of nature found it natural and didn’t startle even when Murdock started singings the Sesame Street theme song in Vietnamese. Templeton hoped he could improve on his hairy use of it.  Murdock seemed open to helping – but he wouldn’t ask too soon. These things came with time.

 

            The dirt road came to a halt to the back gate of the compound. The gate was in very good shape. As was the rest of the camp; the thatched roves had been replaced recently. The chickens were healthy along with the old milk cow in the barn near the back gate. Murdock opened the gate before helping Templeton to push their wagon through before closing and locking it again. If he had the right tools, he knew he could pick that lock in ten seconds. He had heard that Hannibal could capture a man in five.

 

            Murdock was glad to be back in camp; he’d been twitchy out in the jungle. It was as if he knew he had to go out into the dense forest, but he wasn’t happy about it and instead of complaining, he just twitched and sang songs in Vietnamese. Either he wanted the Gorilla’s to know that he spoke their language and wasn’t a threat or it helped to ease the twitches.

 

            They turned up at the mess hut. BA turned and glared at Murdock as he came bounding in; “We got the potatoes le chef ordered!” he smiled.

 

            “Good, you show Peck where to put ‘em,” he grumbled. He turned back to his baking and Murdock did indeed show Templeton where to put the potatoes. The room did not only store the crop he’d dug up that day, but also onions, carrots, beets, lettuce and other vegetables. There was a cold closet next to it that Templeton supposed held the meat. He quickly stored the potatoes in their allotted bins. They’d be washed, peeled and cooked at a later date. He decided privately that he wouldn’t mind peeling.

 

            “Has Hannibal given any orders since we’ve been gone?” Murdock asked. He was gently pushing Templeton out the back door of the mess hut. BA looked up from the dough he’d been kneading.

 

            “Nope, you may as well go and see him,” he shrugged and then went back to his work.

 

            Murdock pulled Templeton along. They made a turn around camp – the Box was empty and stood silent – before finding themselves at Hannibal’s Hutt. He sat just inside, past the white curtain, speaking to someone. Murdock stopped, obviously trying to figure out if he should interrupt or take Templeton some where else for an odd job or two.

 

            “….Lieutenant Peck would know…” and the voice sounded quite terrified.

 

            Murdock took a sideways glance at Templeton. The man became solid stone when he heard his name mentioned. Murdock had to wonder if the boy knew anything at all. He was a First Lieutenant; the odds were he didn’t know much of anything. Whatever mission he’d been captured on was probably recon. All he had to do was take a quick look and then get back to base with the facts.

 

            “What do you know?” Murdock asked; his voice was almost a whisper.

 

            “I don’t know what I know, I guess I’ll find out once Hendrickson gets done throwing me under the bus,” Templeton sighed.

 

            “Has he lied about you before?” Murdock asked.

 

            “Look, he’s a Captain, he has connections. If he could pay you guys off to get out of here he would do it in a second. I’m not surprised he’s feeding your Colonel a bunch of lies,” Templeton replied.

 

            “What sort of lies, do you think?” Murdock asked.

 

            “I don’t know, he’s done it before, he’ll do it again,” and no one would believe me…hung in the air between them, unspoken.

 

            Murdock and Templeton were surprised from their impromptu conversation by the smack of flesh. Hendrickson came tumbling out of the hut to land at their feet in the red dirt. Behind him Hannibal strode out of the hut. He looked quite livid as he approached Templeton and Murdock.

 

            “Take this one back to the Box,” he pointed at Hendrickson. Murdock didn’t even give a salute before he was pulling Hendrickson away. Templeton hadn’t time to even begin to wonder what had Hannibal pissed off. The man had Templeton by the arm and was dragging him inside the hut. It was sparse with a queen sized bed in a corner, a desk and what looked like torture implements on another wall.

 

            Hannibal kicked his legs out from under him and Templeton was on his knees. He kept back a groan. Hendrickson had gotten him into a doozy of a spot. And if Hendrickson couldn’t bullshit his way out of the situation, well, Templeton had no hope for himself.

 

            “Now, Lieutenant…” Hannibal had a whip, the sort one would use on horses, “tell me about the mission General Morrison sent you on,”

 

            His mouth went dry from fear.

 


Tags: au, ba, faceman, hannibal, murdock, pow camp, the a-team, vietnam
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