Fandom – The A-Team
Pairing – Hannibal/Face, BA/Murdock
Warnings – sexual situations, violence, gore
Rating – NC/17
Disclaimer – I do not own.
Summary – Face has gone from prisoner to lover in just under an hour. They may be in Germany, far away from the horrors of Viet Nam, but Face knows that it’s not going to be “happily ever after” any time soon.
Chapter 16 – Instincts vs. Trust
Templeton Peck surveyed the snowy garden. He was freezing his balls off for a turkey shoot. He had his hands in his pockets as he followed the path of their night time guest. He found that two of Hannibal’s bullets had missed their mark, instead going into the garden path forty feet beyond the terrace. He found only a few drops of blood but nothing like a trail. They were so far out into the country that all he could see were the snow covered hills and the drift of smoke from the fireplaces in the village.
He was able to find footsteps and tracks from a vehicle five miles away and going in the opposite direction of the village. This meant that their guest had planned this somewhat correctly. Only, the assassin had underestimated his target. He kept playing the fight over and over in his head. Trying to figure out who it could have been; at first he had thought it was Hendrickson – but now – he wasn’t so sure.
Face sighed and turned back towards the castle. If he was going to get the answers he needed – he would have to slip Hannibal’s noose and take a chance in getting to the American Embassy in Frankfurt and somehow get on Base. Even if he did sleep in Hannibal’s bed and was trusted this far from the estate – he had no doubts that if he tried to match wits with Hannibal he’d fail.
He was highly trained and had gotten into bad scrapes before this, but no one had taught him a thing about Hannibal. He knew what the man did, The A-Team were a hot topic among the Agents – especially those of his caliber. They all wanted to know what made the man tick and any one of his former acquaintances had mentioned getting Hannibal in bed and hypothesizing on the information at hand in an intimate affair such as the one he truly had with the Colonel.
He sighed as he waded his way through the snow. Distracted as he was; he found the newspaper quite by accident – Face tripped over the damned thing and got a face full of snow for his troubles – he made no attempt not to curse as he picked the damned thing up, and marched back to the castle where he knew it was going to be warm in the kitchen. He’d found nothing that’d help him out, at all – and then…a glance down at the paper in the blue, see through bag, caught is eye:
American GI Tortured and murdered in Apartment. Investigation pending.
Face felt his whole body shiver; Hendrickson was dead. The article didn’t say much of anything about how he died, and Face wasn’t versed well enough in German to gather anything useful. He hurried to the side door that led to the kitchen, where he found Murdock and Hannibal cooking breakfast. He thrust the paper at Murdock who was the first and only logical choice in this case.
“Looks like there’s nothing to worry about, Muchacho,” Murdock grinned after skimming the article, “Hendrickson is dead. He won’t come after you,”
“But who killed him and why?” Face asked, “and what’s to stop them from picking up from where he left off?” there was a lot more to this than Murdock knew. Hendrickson had told the wrong people the wrong information. Information that he wasn’t even supposed to know. Both he and Hendrickson had to be put down or the CIA was risking goals they’ve worked so hard to achieve falling to rubble. It was not an outcome Face thought the CIA would accept.
Staying with Hannibal was no longer an option. But neither was going back to the base. He had to get in touch with the one person he knew could help him; Isolde Druitt.
Tommy wasn’t going to stick around to be murdered by whoever had killed off the Captain. Nope, he wasn’t that stupid. He wasn’t going back to Vietnam either. Nope. He wasn’t as stupid as some people thought he was. Instead, he used a little of his money to buy civilian clothing, rung up his Father – who happily sent his son the funds Tommy needed. And then Tommy found a guy of a guy who could fake passports and papers easily.
He got rid of everything but his dog-tags. He then faked a report from Captain Hendrickson to Colonel Jax of the American base in Germany, Frankfurt, declaring that Tommy died in a top secret field mission – the only evidence, the man’s dog tags that’d been included in the report. Tommy was only glad he wouldn’t be around to see if this ruse worked or not, he was on the next civilian plane out of the country; working for his Dad would be far safer than waiting around for whoever killed Hendrickson to find and kill him the same way.
Assistant Director Devin Cadogan hated being interrupted by anyone who wasn’t the CIA Director Job Finlay; today, however, his assistant braved his anger to hand deliver a report from Colonel Jax of the Frankfurt-American Base of Germany. There were two actually; one informing the aforementioned Colonel that Mr. Thomas Angel had died in a top secret mission and then one from Colonel Jax informing him that Captain H. Hendrickson had been murdered, quite brutally in his Germanic Apartment Complex. Included were photos of the crime scene and all the German Police Reports; that were helpfully translated to English.
Cadogan ran a hand through his thinning black hair. The CIA Director should be briefed on this; and it was his job to do so. One Faceman had been tortured and Murdered by a rival. Only, all but one Faceman were accounted for. Only Templeton Peck hadn’t made it a point to check in with his handlers, if he was still alive. The A-Team could have done anything to Peck and render him completely useless if the right techniques were used. Their one time hideout in Vietnam had been searched top to bottom and not a sign of the A Team or Peck had been found.
However – Cadogan lent back in his chair – Germany sounded probable. They had their own problems with the Iron Wall and all that shit, which would make a great backdrop to Traitor’s disappearing with an Assassin – that may or may not have been turned against America. If he were a betting man, Cadogan would put a hundred down on this hunch.
He picked up his phone, rang in the number for Finlay; “Sir, do you have five minutes?” – The Director didn’t have much time but made time when Cadogan mentioned “Faceman” and “The A-Team” in the same sentence. Oh yeah, this was not going to go over well with anyone remotely close to the Faceless Men Project. The FMP was as secret as thing got, besides UFO’s and Area 51. It was just one of those things the Government will hide till the World ends.
He and Finlay may have been on the phone for twenty minutes, but one thing was sure, they need Peck alive. They needed to find out what he knew and how he knew it or if he had been compromised at all. He may need remedial training, but that was as far as it went. Peck was actually the best Faceman they had. The rest were all right, but none of them had the integral instincts this kid had naturally.
Isolde wasn’t impressed with the roaster for the new FMP recruits. Their parameters had changed a lot over the years and they never could train a man as good as Templeton peck. IF the FMP weren’t so secret, if they advertised as much as the Marines or Navy did, they’d have Peck be the poster child for the Project. The thing about Peck though was that he’d been picked up off the street on a hunch by Cadogan. He had been impressed with a con the boy had pulled. Then he was trained and sent off to war.
Isolde had been Peck’s closest friend through those months and they’d bonded on a brother-sister level; which was why she was almost frantic when the call came through. She’d been called away from the line of cadets by an office assistant – the closest building to take the phone call was the cafeteria. She hurried to the blue phone booth, pulled the door shut behind her. And then she picked up the phone and pressed the #5 button.
“Hello?” she tested.
“Druitt, I have a job for you,” Cadogan was gruff.
“Sir?” she asked.
“I need you to go to Germany and find Peck,” Cadogan replied.
“He checked in?” Isolde asked.
“No, I don’t know if he is compromised but I need him alive,” Cadogan was serious.
“Yes sir,” she nodded.
“Take a team with you, you may be up against the A-Team and we all know about them,” and then Cadogan hung up on her. She rolled her eyes as she hung put the phone back in its cradle.
The door shut and he was flung into it, hard. Murdock was in his face and looked grim. His normally easy going brown eyes took on a sheen of seriousness he’d never shown towards Face before. Face stared back at him, not scared in the least. Murdock wouldn’t hurt him, much.
“What’s wrong?” Face asked.
“Don’t play dumb, Faceman, I know all about the CIA’s special programs,” Murdock growled through his teeth. It seemed foreign; as if Murdock was channeling BA instead of handling the situation in the whacky way that was akin to his name sake.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Murdock,” Face tried to shrug, but Murdock changed his grip from Face’s forearms to having one hand at Face’s neck, a knee between Face’s legs and he’d even captured both of Face’s wrists in his once free left hand.
“Templeton Peck,” Murdock hissed, “I won’t allow you to hurt Hannibal. If you tell him everything you know he’ll know better how to handle the situation,” Murdock explained, still angry. Face gulped and looked down. There was more going on here than just someone trying to kill him – he might have been able to depend on Isolde but she hadn’t ever been his lover.
“Right,” Face sighed, “I understand,”
“Do you, Face?” Murdock questioned.
“We’re Lovers, right? So, that means we share stuff…?” and he sounded rather hesitant on that last part.
“Yes, Face, that’s right,” Murdock nodded.
“But…I’m trained not to tell anything to anyone, Murdock…that’s…”
“I know, Facey…” Murdock sighed. He eased his grip on Face. He removed his knee and brought his hand up to caress the soft skin of Face’s cheek. “I flew some missions for the CIA myself; they don’t take kindly to people blabbing,”
“But, I’m different,”
“Yes, Face, you are,” Murdock smiled a little, his easy going manner suddenly returning.
“You were afraid I’d leave you guys,” Face stated.
Murdock nodded; “and you don’t know what that’d have done to Hannibal. He really, really likes you. I haven’t seen him get so attached to someone as he did you. Even from the start he preferred you over Hendrickson,”
“This sounds like a bad plot from a harlequin novel,” Face grumped.
“Oh well, as long as it is well written,” Murdock giggled.
“Okay, so…I guess….I’ll try and tell Hannibal what’s going on, or, as much as I think is going on. I just don’t know. I didn’t even think Hendrickson would be in Germany. And it looks like the media is going to make a big deal out of it. He was practically tortured, and no one heard a thing? That’s odd.”
“Maybe he was gagged or something,” Murdock shrugged; now letting Face go completely.
“Maybe,” Face sighed.
“Go talk to Hannibal; he’s in the guest room on the opposite end of the hallway. Ya’ll’s room is going to be freaking cold till those windows get fixed,” Murdock muttered.
Face nodded, he palmed the door handle and slipped out of the small sitting room Murdock had lured him to moments before for their impromptu talk.
Face found Hannibal in the bath of the guest suite they shared. It wasn’t nearly as big as the master, only half their wardrobe fit in the small closet and Face knew that they’d have to make the trek to their master suite sooner or later. He just hoped the glass people would come soon because he missed their king sized bed. He stopped in the entrance to their room, the bathroom door was open and steam slowly sifted across the ceiling.
He toed off his shoes before pacing across the room to push the partially open door further so that he now had a good view of a naked, wet, Hannibal Smith. The older man lay within a blanket of white bubbles. There was a glass of wine on the tub edge in easy reach and Bach was playing on the portable tape player.
“Hey there sexy,” Face said softly.
A single blue eye opened lazily; “Face, are you all right?” Hannibal asked.
“I’m not going to leave,” Face replied. There wasn’t a way to beat around the bush when Hannibal was involved and Face thought that his new Lover would appreciate him getting down to brass tacks.
“What’s brought this on?” Hannibal asked. Face sighed and moved to sit on the counter by the sink, his back to the mirror. Hannibal watched him closely now.
“Murdock had a talk with me down stairs and as I walked up here to talk to you about it. I realized that I don’t know why Hendrickson is dead. It could have been anyone. It could have been a kinky sex game gone wrong. Maybe it wasn’t an assassin last night,” Face explained.
“There are all sorts of possibilities,” Hannibal nodded, “but, you took care of that intruder, and I’m proud of you,”
Face looked up, taken aback.
“Nothing,” Face shook his head.
“Riddle me this,” Hannibal said, “why haven’t you tried to escape since we arrived here?”
Face looked away, “I won’t lie, and I was planning on finding a way out of here and back to the CIA. I was supposed to report in to my handler’s weeks ago. But that got derailed in ‘Nam. And then…you promised to wait till I was ready. I guess, I was ready and…I felt different,”
“Different how?” Hannibal asked.
“I felt wanted in a different way. When people want me it’s to do something for them, but, when we had sex that first time, I not only felt needed, but wanted. It was like you cared more than most people,” Face shrugged, “that’s not accurate at all, but I can’t exactly explain it,”
Hannibal held out a wet, bubbly hand; “Come here.”
The order was gentle, but Face moved so that he was kneeling against the bath tub. Hannibal ran his hand through blond hair. Then he gripped the back of Face’s neck gently as he pulled his young Lover in for a kiss. It was soft and tentative at first before growing into need that included teeth and lip sucking. Then, Hannibal encircled Face in his arms and hefted Face to sit in the bathtub, clothes and all.
Face pulled away as he sank into the hot water. “Hannibal!”
“What’s the matter Face?” Hannibal laughed as Face splashed water into the Colonel’s face.
“I’m still in my clothes!”
“Oh, those come off,”
“That’s not the point,”
Hannibal just chuckled as he ripped Face’s shirt. Buttons popped off and Face couldn’t help but snigger. Obviously Hannibal was hot for him. He wasn’t going to let Hannibal live it down. Ever.
Murdock whistled as he walked into the garage where he found BA working on the van. It was arm thanks to a garage heater and the smell of oil was a welcoming scent. BA grabbed a tool from his belt and went to do something with the wrench under the hood of the van. Murdock wasn’t entirely sure what. He had schooled in airplanes mechanics, not car mechanics.
He grinned when BA looked up at him with a questioning look.
“Faceguy is talking to Hannibal right as we speak,” Murdock grinned.
“Good,” BA growled, “If that fool hurts Hannibal I am going to kick his ass,”
“You and me both, mudsucka’,” Murdock agreed.
“What do you think he knows?” BA asked.
“You forget that I used to work for the CIA myself, Muchacho, so – I’m wagering that Faceguy knows a lot.”
“We’ll have problems with those hard losers,” BA grumped.
“Yeah,” Murdock agreed.