"What's the matter, Captain?"
Murdock was startled by the question, and the sudden presence of the man asking it, poking his head into the space between the two seats at the front of the Huey. "Sir?" he asked, confused.
"I said, what's the problem?"
Murdock frowned. "No problem, Colonel." He immediately checked all the instruments, but he knew they were all fine. It had been a smooth ride, and he expected that to continue. They were only doing surveillance; it wasn't even a combat drop. A nice switch - since they'd been doing nothing but combat drops since the successful POW camp raid almost a week ago.
"Are you sure? You've been awful quiet."
Murdock sighed. "Just tired is all." Over the loud rattling of the chopper blades, his voice was barely audible over the headset.
"Why? You went to bed before any of us."
Murdock sighed. That was true. It was also true that after the nightmares had woken him up, he'd left the hootch. He hadn't come back until after dawn, after a fitful night's sleep in the cargo bay of the Huey. Hannibal knew that too, he was pretty sure. At least, he knew that he'd left and not come back. He hadn't been there when Hannibal finally went to bed.
"You bring me up here to fly this bird or were you just tryin' to get me alone so you could interrogate me?"
"Would you be surprised if I said it was a little of both?"
Murdock rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly. Hannibal clapped a hand on his shoulder and moved back again, readying his camera as they approached their target area. "Take her down lower, will you, Murdock?"
Murdock keyed the mic, then tipped the nose down a bit, slowly descending towards the thick jungle trees. He didn't look back as Hannibal snapped photos, but he had the routine memorized. Five miles on any side of their probable target. They wouldn't know for sure what was down there until they saw it from the ground. Even the roads seemed to lead to nowhere, disappearing somewhere into the thick trees.
"So are you planning on answering me, Captain?"
He smiled faintly. "I'm thinkin' about it. But I'm pretty sure it ain't anything you'll be too terribly interested in hearing."
"Try me."
Murdock sighed. "Just… nightmares again."
"You could've let Snap fly this, you know."
"Nah, I can do it."
"You know, if you ever need a break…"
"I don't," Murdock said quickly. "I'm fine."
Hannibal paused. "If you do," Hannibal said again, "I want you to take it. Because sooner or later, Murdock, you will break down. The only question is whether you choose to do it gracefully, on your own, or you're forced to do it when you can't cope anymore."
Murdock stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I'll keep it in mind, Colonel. I promise."
Face knew exactly where to find Cruiser. He knew the girl that Cruiser had been going to see by name, and knew which room they would be in, and in which brothel. Cruiser had known the same about him, though he'd taken up in a hotel since "Sue" perused the bars for her clients rather than work in a house where they came to her. Both girls were familiar. If they hadn't been, Face and Cruiser never would have split up. It was just safer not to go alone.
Face exchanged smiles with the woman at the door. He knew her. It was not his first time here. "Just here for Cruiser," he explained.
The woman smiled politely. "Ah, Truong Uy Peck. I show you."
Face knew where Cruiser was, but nodded at the friendly gesture, and paused for a moment to wait. Another girl took over the desk, and Giang walked with Face. She stopped him at the familiar stairs with a hand on his arm. "We go other way," she said. "Stairs wet. Just wash."
Face raised a brow, but he didn't argue. Giang was 4'2 and even if she was armed, Face was sure he could get to his gun faster. He'd known there were two stairways to the second floor – one at the front of the building and one at the back. He'd just never taken the one at the back. There had never been any need.
Cruiser would've been at the end of the hall with six rooms. But since they had gone up the back stairwell, he was the first door on the left. Face paused, and before he had a chance to knock or call out, he heard a strangled cry from another room, followed by a crash.
The reaction was instant and instinctive. Three long strides to the door, followed by a startled Giang. "No, no! Truong Uy, you not –"
Face barely heard her. Ear to the thin door, he heard muffled screaming. Not a woman. He didn't bother checking to see if the door was unlocked. He took a step back, grabbing his pistol from under his shirt, and kicked it in.
A startled Vietnamese woman, naked and straddling a struggling figure, looked up at him. Between her legs and all over the bed there was blood pooling. In her hands was a pillow, over the face of a man who had already lost too much blood to throw her off him. Before he'd lost his strength – how long had he been bleeding? – he'd reached for the lamp on the bedside table and knocked it to the floor. That had likely been the crash Face had heard.
Face took it all in. It took only seconds. He locked eyes with the woman, knew what had happened, and pulled the trigger. Hit squarely in the chest, she flew to the side and tumbled off the bed. Giang was on him immediately, frantic. "What you do! What you –"
He turned, and pointed the pistol at her. "Did you know about this?" he demanded.
It was a rhetorical question. Of course she knew about this. Nothing went on in this house that she didn't know about. But it sure was funny how quickly she lost her ability to speak English. As she rattled a string of angry Vietnamese at him, he could feel his patience slipping, overcome by anger as the man on the bed bled to death.
"You've got three seconds to give me a reason not to shoot you. One."
She continued in a language he only understood a few fleeting words of, eyes burning hatred.
"Two."
She took a step toward him. It probably wasn't an attack. At her size, she would've been stupid to try it. But it didn't matter. There was no question in his mind that she'd been a part of this. He pulled the trigger and she dropped like a stone, spattering his arm and face with her blood.
Cruiser was in the doorway. "Holy shit! Face! What the hell!"
Face lowered the gun calmly and wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve. By the time he looked away from the body that was bleeding on the floor, Cruiser was on the bed with the bloody, unmoving American soldier. He didn't ask again what had happened. As he looked up and exchanged glances with Face, he shook his head.
Face took a slow breath. "Go downstairs and call this into the base, will you? Get a couple of MPs out here."
Cruiser stood, noting the icy, emotionless tone in Face's voice. "You alright?"
Face shut his eyes and nodded. "I'm fine."
"You okay, kid?"
Face looked up at the sound of Hannibal's voice, then lowered his head again. Sitting against the cracked plaster wall, knees bent, cigarette in hand, Face wasn't sure on the answer to that question. "Fine," he tried.
Hannibal took one more glance around, watched as they took the bagged body of a Navy SEAL out the door, then sat down next to Face. Legs crossed in front of him, he just sat still, not speaking.
"I'm…" Face finally tried again. "Numb." He looked up at Hannibal, brow furrowed. "I don't know why."
"Yeah, you do."
Face studied him for a long moment, then looked away again and took a deep drag from his cigarette. "Always knew it would happen sooner or later," he whispered. "Hell, we even talked about it once or twice. Didn't think it would… bother me. Not after everything I've already done."
"I'd be more concerned if it didn't bother you, Lieutenant."
Face laughed, but it was without any hint of humor. "Fuckin' ironic."
"What is?"
"I was just telling Murdock the other night…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
Hannibal didn't press. After a moment of silence, he reached into his pocket for a cigar, lit it, and put his head back on the wall as he sighed. "This is a strange war, Lieutenant," he said softly. "This enemy sends their women and children to the front lines. There's nothing you can do about that. No way to change it. Enemy just… doesn't look like what you expect them to."
"I know she was guilty," Face said quietly. "I know what she did; I know she was VC; I know… They both were. They were both enemy and they both deserved to die and they would've killed me if they'd had the chance. But –"
"No," Hannibal interrupted. Face looked up at him blankly. "That's it. There's no 'but'. You did it, you don't regret it, and you'd do it again."
Face stared at him for a long moment before looking away. "I never said I regret it."
"Good." Hannibal's voice had taken on a hard edge. "Because you shouldn't. The enemy kills us, Face. And we kill them. Doesn't make a damn but of difference what they look like."
"I know. I just don't like what it means. I never did." Face sighed, and shook his head as if coming out of a trance. Finished with the cigarette, he put it out on the badly damaged wall behind him and leaned to drop the butt in the garbage can.
"I'm over it," he declared suddenly, rising to his feet. He adjusted the pistol in his belt, then offered a hand down to Hannibal.
"So." Face smiled as he pulled Hannibal to his feet. Whatever lingering emotions he still felt were covered over by a confident smile. "Now that I've interrupted your evening, where are we going tomorrow?"
"It could have just as easily been you, you know."
Cruiser looked at Face pointedly, not quite sure what the hell that remark was really meant to accomplish. "And it could have just as easily been you."
"The VC run those goddamn brothels." Face's voice was dead cold as he stripped his blood spattered shirt and left it on the cement floor beside his bunk. He raised his eyes and locked on Cruiser. "You know that."
Cruiser turned fully and watched Face for a moment. "Don't turn this into some pretentious self-satisfying tragedy."
"Self satisfying tragedy?" Face's tone dripped with cynicism.
"Could have been any of us. It's part of being in this fucking war."
"No. You don't get to turn this into some kind of proof that everything's peachy," Face shot back. "And for the record, you've never once caught me alone in a brothel. It's fucking suicide."
Cruiser raised his brow at that. "Yeah? How exactly is Sue these days, huh?"
"Sue was never in a brothel."
"Oh, did she get promoted?" Cruiser snorted his laughter at that. "You need a reality check LT. You fuck those whores just like everyone else."
"And the ones I do you personally know by name."
Face was glaring daggers at him. But he could glare all he wanted. His little cunt wasn't the exception to the rule just because he thought she somehow belonged to him.
"She's a whore. Past that you're arguing semantics."
"You're damn lucky Hannibal didn't actually say anything about us splitting up. You can bet he noticed it."
"How many times have you gone away with Sue by yourself?" Face wasn't getting around that if Cruiser had anything to say about it. "Why don't you go float that past Hannibal?"
"You bring me any proof of the fact that she's involved in the death of an American soldier and I'll shoot her myself," Face said, his voice ice cold. "That girl you fucked tonight knew exactly what was happening in the next room. They all knew. And it could've been you."
"Face." He took a step closer, his stare hard. This argument was stupid, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. "I have fucked more whores than I can count, and every one of them I clear."
"You know as well as I do, that's not a guarantee."
"Past that," Cruiser continued, ignoring him, "this entire fucking thing is liable to end at any time for any one of us. It's nothing to dwell on."
Face looked at him coldly, not backing down. "You get shot in the field, you die as a soldier. What the fuck are we supposed to tell your sister if you get killed for being stupid in Saigon?"
Cruiser growled, hackles raising as Face upped the stakes. Face grit his teeth. He still had blood on his hands and his face, and Cruiser could smell it on the shirt resting on the floor. So could Face. The smell of blood always seemed to do something to him. Make him darker, more primal and dangerous. And more unpredictable.
"You tell my sister that I died as a fucking soldier," he snarled, taking a slow step towards Face until he was almost nose to nose with him. "You wanna push this, Lieutenant? Do it."
Face's reaction was probably pure instinct, and Cruiser knew he was pushing for it when he walked right into Face's personal space. Without even a flicker of hesitation, Face grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him hard, off balance, eyes on fire as he waited for the counterattack.
Cruiser barely had his feet back under him when he threw the punch. It landed on Face's jaw, but Cruiser grabbed his neck before he had a chance to stumble back and in a flash, Face was against the wall. "You wanna do this?" Cruiser snarled. "Huh? 'Cause I got no problem putting you down."
"Fuck you, Cruiser."
He pulled Face off the wall just to slam him back again. "What I do in my time is my business. You have a problem with, go figure out someone else to tag along with."
Face pushed away from the wall just far enough to get his arm back, and drove his fist up and into Cruiser's jaw. Cruiser recoiled just enough for the blow not to completely land. it still hurt and it still made him stumble a bit. But he still had Face by the throat. Pushing him down, he kicked Face's feet out from under him and put a boot on his wrist before he had any thought of getting back up. Effectively pinned, Face looked back over his shoulder and glared daggers at Cruiser.
"Keep it up, Face," Cruiser dared him. "And I will plant you so fast you won't know what hit you."
Face didn't answer, only growled, and Cruiser knelt down, keeping his foot on Face's wrist. "Everyone dies out here and everyone dies a soldier. End of story. Got it? You wanna personalize this, that's your problem. But leave me the fuck out of it."
Face was breathing a little harder as he snarled viciously up at him. "You were the one who fucked up tonight, not me. Next time you run off to do your own fucking thing, just remember that it could've been you tonight."
"That fact has never changed, Lieutenant."
"Fine. Now get the fuck off of me before I court marshal your ass."
Cruiser raised brow at that, laughing. "You're gonna court marshal me?" He smiled wickedly as he leaned down closer to Face, lowering his voice. "Keep pushing and I'll give you a reason that will hold up."
"Fuck off," Face snarled. "I don't know why I even bother talking to you."
"Then don't."
Cruiser slowly raised himself up again but kept his foot on Face's wrist for a moment longer before taking a step back and turning away. Whatever agenda Face was trying to push, Cruiser wanted no part in it.
