johnnypenn (johnnypenn) wrote,
johnnypenn
johnnypenn

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Dogpatch - Chapter 5


Well, I would like to say a few words before the chapter.
First, I had a hell of a time with this chapter. I had thought I'd have it up last night, but no, I was tired and had some really painful cramps. It sucked. And then today, I went for a walk with my Mom, then I walked down to Wallgreens - so, I got distracted. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I gave up sex for plot - a little, I think Hannibal and Templeton are working up to it. :)

- - -

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.

 

ANOTHER NOTE – Vietnamese take their names seriously. Tuan = Bright and Tu’ = Star. So Bright Star.

 

 

Chapter 5 – Splish Splash

 

 

      A bucket of hot water was poured over him and he gritted his teeth against water getting into his mouth. He sat in the tub, naked as the day he was born. The water swirled around him, streaked with bubble suds and dirt. Hannibal had all ready ordered the water changed twice. Somehow they had hot water. Templeton had been sure that after his very impromptu, and ill thought out escape that they’d punish him with a night in the box, or even a whipping.

 

      A cloth passed between his shoulder blades, he held himself still and stiff. The rope around his wrists was soggy with water but it held him tight. If he struggled against the bindings, he’d rub the skin raw and then it’d bleed. He wanted to avoid that if at all possible.

 

      “Now, you’re gonna feel all better after your bath,” Murdock sing-songed. He ran his hands through wet, blond hair. “I know I do,” he grinned.

 

      Templeton would have replied if he hadn’t been gagged. This just wasn’t shaping up to be a good month for him. He’d have given anything to have conned Morrison out of the mission, or giving it to someone – anyone – else. He had failed, and he wasn’t even being tortured because of it. These guys wanted to make him feel better!

 

      It’s a sin against nature! He thought to himself.

 

      BA swiped Templeton’s middle; “Man, you’re a piece of work,”he shook his head, “I’m going to have to make some new manacles that’ll actually fit you,”

 

      Murdock squealed and clapped his hands, “you mean you do care for him as more than just a fuck toy!”

 

      “I won’t deny it,” BA grabbed Murdock by his T-shirt and pulled him over the tub. “I think he’s hot, and I want to fuck him so badly he won’t be able to walk for a week! But, I would like for us to be able to talk, like normal couples,”

 

      “Awe, BA!” Murdock grinned, “That is just so sweet!” and he lent in further to kiss BA full on the lips. Templeton felt he was seeing something far too personal. He refused to be embarrassed about it though, since they knew he was tied up and couldn’t leave. The bastards!

 

      Hannibal interrupted them; “guys, I don’t mind the two of you getting it on, but it’s getting late and I still have to punish Templeton for trying to escape,” he came forward to see how the bathing process was going.

 

      Templeton looked far different clean than dirty. For one, he had a nice high cheek bones, and his lips were full. His nose was perfect. His eyes were lovely. There wasn’t anything to complain about at all. He kept some muscle even in captivity. He wasn’t lanky like Murdock, who could bend at angles a person never dreamt of during sex. Hannibal couldn’t wait to take Templeton to bed.

 

      He sat down in a chair place right beside the bath tub. He quickly yanked the gauze that held fabric in Templeton’s mouth. “Now, I’ve just gotten off the horn with a buddy of mine,” he smirked, “he said that he sent you up here himself,”

     

      Templeton licked his lips. “Who are you talking about, sir?”

 

      “Just for the record, I’m onto you, Temp,” Hannibal gave him an amused smile, “Tuan Tu’, you know the guy…” he raised an eyebrow, “in fact you tried to kill him,”

 

      Templeton didn’t break the gaze between himself and the Colonel; “Those were my orders, to shoot him if I got the chance, I never had the chance. Hendrickson ruined it,” He explained. Intelligence wasn’t often far off the mark, Hannibal and Tuan Tu’ did count each other as friends.

 

      “Tuan had told me that some idiot stood up in the middle of the night and began shooting. And then, he said that brought a gorilla group from another division that’d been making their way back to their own camp. That between Tuan’s men and that second unit, between the two of them, they killed ten of your men, and took the rest hostage,” Hannibal related.

 

      “Your General is right, that’s what happened,” Templeton deadpanned.

 

      “He also said that he recognized you, Faceman,”

 

      Templeton froze. Someone blabbed details they shouldn’t have. Someone without the proper clearance got things on him he didn’t even have clearance for.

 

      “Who’s this Faceman, Hannibal?” BA demanded.

 

      “Faceman is a very popular international Spy. He can con almost anyone out of anything anywhere he wants. He has killed a few politicians for the good of the world – I’d say he was also the most wanted,” Hannibal grinned. “Nice, huh?”

 

      “I’d say, but…” Murdock took a close look at Templeton. “What if this isn’t Faceman? What if they found a man who looked like him and trained him enough to pass for this Faceman?” he asked.

 

      Templeton jumped on that; “I can’t say anything much,” he hemmed, “but…” he lent in close and lowered his voice, “I’m his stand in,”

 

      “No!” Murdock jumped back in surprise, “Yes, yes,” Templeton nodded, trying to sell the lie for all he was worth. “The Faceman is in Paraguay on a mission right now, I’m the stand in, my handlers let out that Faceman is in Vietnam, so that’s why General Tuan Tu’ recognized me! We look almost the like – only, our eyes are a different shade of blue, but no one ever pays close attention,” he hawed, “yeah, this is usually what happens to me…well…” and he had to double think that, “not this, I have been tortured before though,” he lent against the side of the bath tub. Water splashed over his body. It was cooling even as they spoke.

 

      “I see,” Hannibal didn’t sound as if he bought it at all.

 

      “Look, I know it sounds so far fetched,” Templeton started, “we even have the same scars in the same exact places! Ideal, isn’t it?” he wagged his eye brows at Murdock.

 

      “You’re lying!” Murdock pointed a finger at Templeton, “You are Faceman!”

 

      The cat was out of the bag. His secret was known. Now he was going to die.

 

      “Come on guys, this just makes it better!” Hannibal yanked Templeton to stand by his blond hair. “We have their secret weapon,”

 

      “What are you going to do to him, Hannibal?” BA asked, clearly not liking that Templeton had lied to them.

 

      “Why, mold him into our secret weapon, of course,”

 

      That is the least of my worries, Templeton looked down at the water he still sat in. Trying to look as if he’d failed utterly. My training came at a price and it won’t be defeated. That’s what his commanders had told him though. That no matter what he was put through as a captive, he’d come out – possibly scared – but not changed.

 

      A gentle hand on chin had him looking up at Hannibal. In his hand was a blue, plastic tooth brush. Templeton knew not to ask to do it himself. He smelt min before he tasted the fluoride. The brushes hit all the particular spots and Hannibal had a good, hard/soft brush stroke. Templeton was directed to spit the toothpaste into a bucket, then he rinsed with water and spat that into the bucket as well.

 

      Looking up at Hannibal, Templeton said; “I won’t turn against my country. If you believe me or not, I won’t do anything for you,”

 

      Hannibal cocked his head slightly to the right; “Than we’ve come to an impasse,”

 

 

 

0-0-0

 

      Night sounds were always the most comforting, Hendrickson found as he scaled the wall. He was quiet and made it safely to the other side. His arm hurt but his training was coming in handy. Unknowingly, Peck had given him an opening with that bizarre, failed escape attempt. They were fools. The lot of them. Hannibal thought Peck was Faceman? The scourge of the world and wanted in several for war crimes, Templeton Peck?

 

      The boy couldn’t even shoot straight! His aim was off by an inch no matter where he aimed. He needed training under a Master. And if Hannibal went through with his plans of breaking down the boy and rebuilding him into a weapon– it wouldn’t change anything. Faceman was not Templeton Peck, in fact, he wasn’t even Henry Hendrickson. The beauty of Faceman was that he looked like your average Joe Schmooze. That way no one knew where he’d come from or when he’d attack.

 

      “Idiots,” he grumbled to himself. He bypassed the main hut where Hannibal and his men were bathing Peck. It’d be nice to have a bath, however, he needed to get to that thing in the mess hut they called a phone. The chickens didn’t act any differently as he passed and the milk cow just swished her tail. He entered silently.

 

      He had to report in to General Morrison, and give the channel for this “phone” – they’d be able to find him and get him out. Peck as well if he survived. It’d take a while. Morrison would just have to get over it. He knew how dangerous it’d be to send Faceman on a mission that’d fail anyway. It was his job to now get Faceman out of this predicament.

 

      Hendrickson turned the dial. From the ear piece he heard static and then the channel that always repeated the same three blip series.

 

Beeeep!

 

 

Booooppp!

 

 

blop!

 

      “Omega, Zulu, Red…” he waited a three second count before repeating it a second time, and then a third. If he sent the message three times the handlers knew he was in need of rescue. They’d track down the channel he was using and get him out. It was a good thing he had Peck as a stand in. He knew he’d be able to talk Hannibal into anything now, seeing as how he was so horny for the First Lieutenant.

 

      He put the radio channel on its proper setting, the one he’d found it on, before leaving. He snagged a piece of bread on the way out. Despite his broken arm, he was able to rescale the fence and reattach his chains silently. Nothing in the night sounded different and the voices the came from the hut were still going strong.

 

      Peck was denying being Faceman – Hendrickson wondered if Morrison told Peck anything about the Hit Man. If Peck had an inkling it his Captain, well…He’d have to be silenced. No one could know, not even a fellow Soldier.

 

0-0-0

 

      Hannibal was kissing him again. He dripped water on the floor from his bath. The tub had been removed and he heard the splash of water as the tub was emptied from behind the hut. Hannibal has his arm around Templeton’s waist and his tongue swiping the inside of Templeton’s mouth. The man really knew how to kiss. Templeton could feel Hannibal’s hard on and it was because of him the older man was aroused.

 

      “Hey…” Templeton pulled away. He looked up uncertainly into Hannibal’s bright blue eyes, “are you going to rape me…?”

 

      Then a steely look came over Hannibal and Templeton was scared. Only, the anger wasn’t directed at him. “No,” Hannibal said. “I want you to let me take you,” – okay, so the man wasn’t in love with him.

 

      “I…I just don’t want it to hurt,” Templeton hated that he stumbled on that sentence.

 

      “Temp…I’m not going to go easy on you,” Hannibal said, “but, can you tell me…have you been raped?”

 

      Templeton nodded; “which is why I…I won’t fight you, if that’s what you want to do with me. It’s always more fun if someone is willing, right?” he tried for a small smile, just to make himself feel better even. Hannibal hugged him tightly. His cock had wilted and Hannibal didn’t seem mad now. It’d been fleeting, now Templeton felt comforted. Which was weird in and of it self but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

      “From the first day I saw you, I knew I had to keep you,” Hannibal whispered into his ear.

 

      “Sir…” he was going to say something about having to escape because it was his duty.

 

      “I won’t force it on you, ever, I know things happen and I promised myself long ago that I wouldn’t be that sort of person and neither will Murdock or BA. They aren’t those people, Templeton,” Hannibal said gently.

 

      “This is just too weird,” he sighed into Hannibal’s neck. He could smell the aftershave he’d applied this morning. It was one Templeton had smelled before – but, when coupled with Hannibal’s own scent, it was intoxicating. He found he liked it and he wanted to always be in this man’s arms.

 

      That is what got you in trouble before, Temp! You can’t trust him! - That inner voice, which before sounded like Hannibal, was no longer. This voice was that little boy inside him that longed for Freedom, and, just for someone to love him.

 

      “All right,” Hannibal stepped back, “but I will still punish you for that escape attempt,” and his blue eyes sparkled at that while Templeton cringed.

 

      “Another spanking…?” he asked hesitantly.

 

      “Something…better…” he grinned.

 

0-0-0

 

      Well, that inner voice taunted him, at least they let you wear your pants!

 

      It was not a very comforting thought as the lash sank lightly into his back, bringing forth rivulets of blood to shine darkly by moonlight. Hendrickson was made to watch. He was on his knees, his face blank. Templeton honestly didn’t care as long as he wasn’t being raped. He’d gone through that a few times before in his younger years and he wouldn’t have let it happen again.

 

      He cringed as another lash broke skin.

 

      Well, you have to admit, the voice chuckled, at least Murdock has talented hands! And it sputtered off into a giggle fit. Templeton wondered why he was cursed with an inner voice that didn’t seem to be bothered by this predicament. He’d feel the pain later, he was sure of it. Only…it didn’t matter in the moment. He closed his eyes, and he was some where else. Only, that somewhere else wasn’t as far away as he had hoped. No, he was in the arms of Hannibal.

 

      It’s the Stockholm syndrome, stupid! The voice yelled, all amusement lost to the wind now, He wants you to feel something for him so that he can control you, blockhead, have you learnt nothing?

 

      Nothing…had he learnt nothing in his short time in the army? He’d been told about POW’s who’d been rescued but couldn’t ever be trusted in combat because they had emotional attachment to their Captor’s – a few had gone AWOL and became Traitors because they couldn’t handle the sudden thrust of freedom after their rescue.

 

      That’ll be you if you let him play mind games, dumb fuck!

 

      He cringed at the inner use of the F-bomb that Sister Gladys was known to punish with the use of laundry detergent. She always said it was a most insensitive thing to say about something that God had made beautiful.

 

      Yeah, if you are Heterosexual! The voice was laughing again.

 

      The lash brought him from his thoughts so suddenly that he cried out just a bit. And then it was over. The ropes that held him to the fence were lessened and came away.

 

      “I hope this teaches the both of you a proper lesson,” Hannibal struck a match and lit his cigar.

 

      “Yes sir,” Templeton hung his head. Murdock was at his side, cooing and being gentle as he led him away. “We won’t let you get an infection, don’t worry about it darling.”

 

      BA made sure that Hendrickson was safely locked up for the night. Hendrickson didn’t fight; with a broken arm it wouldn’t give him an advantage. He now had to act as if he didn’t have a choice in matters.

 

0-0-0

 

      The lash was cleaned by BA, right there in front of Templeton, while Murdock cleaned the wounds, put some jungle ointment on them and then bandaged him up. He was so tired and worn out by the whole ordeal that he didn’t think twice when his hands were tied in front of him with rope. And Hannibal shooed him into the queen sized bed made out of bamboo. The mattress was soft, despite the use of jungle vegetation to stuff it.

 

      Templeton dropped off with the older man holding him close.


Tags: ba, dogpatch, faeman, hannibal, murdock, pow camp, the a-team, vietnam
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