johnnypenn (johnnypenn) wrote,
johnnypenn
johnnypenn

Dogpatch - Chapter 8


Well, we are nearly to the H-Bamf, but at least we have H/BA/M in this chapter.

- - -

The Dog Patch

  

Disclaimer – I do not own these characters. I make no money off this fan fiction.

 

Pairing – Eventual H-Bamf

 

Rating – R/NC17

 

Warnings – War time Violence, sex and possibly some kink

 

Summary – AU – Templeton Peck is mistaken for a world renowned spy. He is stuck in a prison camp to be trained as a secret weapon of the A-Team, who are Traitors to America.

 

 

Chapter 8 – The Sweet Escape

 

 

The rain started late afternoon. The sky grew grey over time. The lightning flashed threw the sky followed by claps of thunder. As the day progressed the storm came towards Dogpatch. The clouds piled atop each other and rumble made the earth quake dangerously. Outside their little shelter they watched the emptiness of the court yard. The wind blew hard and small cyclones of red dust drifted angrily through the damp air.

 

The water poured down without any more fan fare. It swept across the jungle trees, drenching everything its path. The temperature fell from overly sweltering to something that was just this side of comfortable for a Texan summer.

 

Hendrickson made his escape just as soon as the wall of rain obscured their sight of the huts on the far end of the compound. His broken arm wasn’t detrimental to his skills; in fact, it seemed to prove to Templeton that he and Hendrickson were very well trained.

 

The man climbed the fence like freaking Spiderman! Then he was down the other side and moving off into the forest. With the cover of thunder and rain, the movement of shrubbery and soft rustle of leaves didn’t alert anyone to the scape.

 

Templeton wrapped his blanket around him. “Now all we need are Knights that say Ni,” he mumbled dejectedly.

 

Hannibal wouldn’t be able to check on them till the deluge of rain had run itself out. Only a small light flickered, telling Templeton the exact location of the hut. He felt rather jealous that he hadn’t been able to go with Hendrickson. As silly a feeling as he knew it was he just didn’t want to be in the camp when Hannibal found out. He wouldn’t say he was scared of the man – no, he wasn’t – just worried. He’d be the one to catch hell for it. If it’d been his idea to stay behind and spy on that lot…it’d be a whole other story.

 

 He also didn’t trust Hendrickson as far as he could throw the guy – which was probably ten feet in a single direction – Hendrickson was up to something and Templeton wouldn’t know what it was till it was far too late to stop him. For all he knew, Hendrickson could be working with Morrison on this secret evil plan of doom – and Hannibal probably didn’t know; which meant that it’d be more important for Hendrickson to escape, with or without Templeton.

 

       “Damn,” he muttered. He pulled the blanket up to make a hood over his head. He’d thought about it far too late. It wasn’t like he was in a position to actually think about it that morning, He’d felt woozy and sick and his back ached from pain now – he couldn’t move too fast or risk a debilitating sap from the lacerations on his back. He sighed and gently lay down on the cot.

 

       “This is really gonna suck!” he said to the rain, which only rattled in reply.

 

0-0-0

 

      

The sudden rumble of an engine cut through the sound of heavy rain. The lamp now moved through the day-darkness. Templeton – distracted from his nature show – squinted through the wetness.

 

He could barely make out Hannibal’s form as he opened the gate and the truck rumbled through. The front light of the truck didn’t cut through the day-darkness. Instead it  flickered on and off. The truck stopped in front of a hut.

 

There was some shout of direction and Templeton could hear BA and Murdock leave the truck. The doors had to be slammed hard to stay in place. He tried to see where the three men went. If they went to a single hut or dispersed to other things about the camp. After a few short moments he gave up on anyone finding Hendrickson gone.

 

He yawned and closed his eyes. He’d worry about how to explain the man being gone when they asked. He wasn’t about to volunteer anything.

          Seconds later, he was fast asleep.

 

 

0-0-0

 

 

“Hey, Hannibal…” Murdock turned from the window, which only had a bamboo blind to keep the rain and wind at bay. He held a cup of warm tea in his hands. His hair was slightly damp from the rain water. BA was also soaked to the bone. Their clothing was drying by a small fire. They wore knotted towels around their middles. BA had that look on his face. The one that said he wanted Murdock alone. Murdock knew they’d be disappearing to their own hut for a while as they waited out the rain.

 

“Yes?” Hannibal looked up from the newspaper Murdock had sheltered from the rain in his jacket.

 

“We’re down a prisoner,” he reported with a thumb pointing towards the window.

 

“Good, we only need Peck anyway,” Hannibal shrugged.

 

“What were you waiting for?” BA asked.

 

“Hendrickson is a coward; I figured he’d leave Peck in the lurch,”

 

“Yeah, he climbed the fence just like you said he would, Hannibal,”

 

BA nodded. “We waited at the look out post, he passed under us. He never looked up,”

 

“They never look up,” Hannibal sighed. “If someone had trained him up proper…he’d have been less subtle about it.

 

“And now, we need to train that kid up,” Murdock topped off his cup of tea with more hot water that’d boiled over the same fire their clothing was drying beside.

 

 Hannibal put the paper to the side. He picked up a cigar and bit the end off before lighting up, “if someone just put in the time they’d find that Peck would make a great Lieutenant. Obviously it wasn’t the army that trained him,” Hannibal muttered around the cigar. “But if they just refined it a bit…” he shrugged.

 

“CIA,” Murdock said, “It has to be the CIA,”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Hannibal nodded.

 

“How do you know that, sucka?” BA asked.

 

“The CIA are different from Army. I dunno, it’s just how he makes his moves, when we’re speaking and stuff. It’s like he’s trying to get ahead or something, manipulate us,” Murdock replied. He sipped his tea; “CIA agents are trained to think about their moves before they do it and going with their gut…well…it it’s done but it isn’t encouraged, not like with the Navy or Army,”

 

“And I don’t think the Army had anything to do with where he is in rank. I think the CIA pulled some strings. The kid probably doesn’t even command anyone, he’s just there to keep track on what the brass are doing. Though, I don’t know why the CIA would need an inside man for that sort of job,” Hannibal nodded more to himself than to the other two men.

 

“How are you going to break that training, Hannibal?” BA asked.

 

“A lot of running,” Hannibal smirked.

 

“You’re going to exhaust him..” BA raised an eyebrow.

 

“No, I’m going to push him to his limits and past them. I’ll be there to put him back together,”

 

“Just like the army,” Murdock shook his head.

 

“My army,” Hannibal snorted.

 

“And what about the CIA stuff?” BA was still on the same track.

 

“I’ll out think him,” Hannibal replied convinced of his own powers in that department.

 

 

0-0-0

 

He woke when the rain stopped.

 

The sky grew clear and night was coming on fast. Templeton threw the blanket away from his and scrubbed his hands through semi-dank hair. It’d been only a few days since that bath, possibly two, if he reckoned it right – and he really wished he was in a position to get cleaned up. Even if it was just rain water and lye soap. He didn’t care. He looked up when he heard the whistling. He could see the bright red ball cap Murdock wore and he only had a single tray of food.

 

They all read knew. Why would one tray of food be brought if they didn’t all ready know that Hendrickson was gone? And why weren’t they on the warpath? Did they want Hendrickson to escape? Were they waiting for it? BA and Murdock must have brought the news – they could have been in a position to see. Who knew what orders Hannibal had given them!

 

Okay, just calm down, Templeton!

 

He sat up as the gate opened and Murdock entered with the tray. He didn’t look at all worried that Templeton could overpower him and escape. Maybe because it was a stupid idea and that escaping quietly over the fence would be a far better option.

 

“Hey there, Faceman!” Murdock grinned, “I fried up chicken and rice for tonight, you’ll need the energy! Hannibal is planning a really nifty course for you to run,” he sat the tray on the bed. Then he sat down on Hendrickson’s abandoned cot.

 

“How’d you know he was gone?” Templeton asked. He grabbed the food though. It’d been ages since he ate and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone stealing it from him. He dug into it with gusto.

 

“We saw, Hendrickson isn’t any good at concealing his tracks,” Murdock shrugged and then he started admiring his dirty nails.

 

“Why’d you let him go? Or…did you…?” the question hung heavily between them in the pregnant silence.

 

“No,” Murdock glared at Templeton, “we didn’t kill him,”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean… it’s just…aren’t you worried that he knows the coordinates of you home?”

 

“Home…” Murdock lost the visage of angry and went to confusion, “this isn’t home…it never was. It’s just a place. And no, we aren’t worried,” Murdock stood up, “the VC will kill him soon enough,” and then he turned.

 

Templeton watched him go. Murdock made sure to double pad lock the gate but before leaving he turned back; “don’t get comfortable in there, Hannibal wasn’t more security. I guess he only cares if you escape,” and then he walked away.

 

Templeton shook his head and continued to eat his dinner. He’d just have to ride this out. They’d be expecting him to climb the fence. He needed them to get to a place where they felt comfortable with having him around, and then he’d disappear when they least expected it.

 

The Viet Cong were also a problem, but when had they never been to soldiers in the Jungle? It was always a risk they took when going out on patrol. It was no different in Dogpatch than it was back at Zero Base.

 

0-0-0

 

He slept in the cage that night. Hannibal looked smug as Templeton’s wrists were tied behind his back. He was made to crawl in and then his ankles were also lashed. The cage was smaller than he remember it being upon first arrival. At least he wasn’t out in the open. Hannibal wanted him near and the older man slept with his pistol under his pillow again.

 

This time, however, BA and Murdock joined him in the bed. It was late and the light was out, except for the coals of the fire that’d been banked before they’d gone to bed. Then the moans started up, and the kissing sounds. Shadows moved on the far wall. The pile of men looked like a monster coming out of the closet – Face couldn’t help but shiver and camp down on his natural desires. He never made a sound. Hannibal would use it to his advantage and Templeton wasn’t going to give him that.

 

Templeton glared into the darkness. Oh, it wasn’t that they were into each other in the sexual sense of the word – he liked to think of himself as by-sexual anyway, nope, it was the fact that he had to listen that pissed him off. In another life time, he could see them all as something else. He dispended this reality and tried to substitute it for another. One where Hannibal and his men hadn’t betrayed their country – one where they were a family and…well…Templeton could then entertain sexual relations – any relationship – with the three men who were grunting in the bed above his caged form. He bit his tongue. What was he thinking? The whole mess must be getting to him, he was going crazy!

 

It seemed like ages till the three were done with each other. Templeton couldn’t say if they just brought each other off, or if they went further. He wasn’t able to see over the footboard. He didn’t even want to know what made Murdock moan that way.
 
Or what made BA groan and hiss “get on with it sucker!” in a hushed whisper that still carried over the sound of silence that was the jungle night; which wasn’t actually silent. And for certain-sure, Templeton didn’t want to know what made Hannibal chuckle in that evilly satisfied manner he was doing when Murdock started chanting the man’s name.

 

It was all tedious till they all got off in any manner they could and then began to sleep. Templeton could tell. BA half-snored, Murdock talked in his sleep at strange intervals and Hannibal

 

“Go to sleep Temp,”

 

Liked to stay awake till everyone else was sleeping; it had to be the Army in him. Templeton decided as he heeded the Colonel’s advice.


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