The cool water of the Bong Son River felt good on Face's overheated skin. It helped to take his mind off of the fact that they'd just pulled a bunch of dead soldiers out of the combat zone and carried them back to base. After all, that was why they were here anyways – washing the blood and body fluids out of the back of the chopper. The air mattresses Face had found in the supplies were a pleasant distraction from the very unpleasant chore.
"She was gorgeous, though." Face sighed, lying across the raft in the chest-deep water. "Too bad she figured out I was only fifteen."
Murdock chuckled. "At fifteen you probably looked about twelve. No offense."
Face smirked, but didn't answer, letting his mind wander over pleasant memories of much more pleasant times. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a chopper somewhere overhead, and he looked up. Another Huey come to rinse out their cargo bay? Floating in the middle of a river about as wide as a football field, he shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up. The chopper was lowering almost directly over top of them.
"What the hell do these assholes think they're doing?" Murdock asked.
"Hovering." Face shrugged, unconcerned. Until he realized that the hurricane force winds from the rotors were coming straight toward them.
Murdock realized it at about the same time. "Shit! Get to the sandbar!"
There was no time. Clinging to the rafts for dear life, they were swept a good 150 yards downstream before the chopper finally stopped following them and went back to land about fifty feet from Murdock's chopper.
It was one hell of a prank. Face was not amused. As they paddled and walked against the current, all the way back to where they had started, Face made sure that the crew from the intruding chopper knew about it. They were laughing as Face and Murdock swam past. The pilot gestured his apology with a shrug as they passed the bird, as if to say that they hadn't seen them. Yeah, right. Drawing from an extensive vocabulary of bar-brawl insults, he rattled off every name he could think of on their way back to their bird.
Once there, he realized how absolutely ludicrous the whole thing was. With a laugh, he tucked himself out of sight of the other chopper and glanced first at BA, then at Snap. "Can you believe those guys!" He laughed again as he slipped his pants back on. "I mean, what the hell was that?"
"What happened?" BA demanded.
Dressed faster than Face, Murdock strapped himself into the left pilot's seat.
"Did you not see that? They pushed us halfway down the river!"
BA was frowning as he looked up from where he was attempting to secure the tool box. That they'd been pushed down the river was obvious; he'd seen that part. What he didn't understand was why. "D'you know them?"
Face shook his head as the chopper cranked. Snap's eyes widened as he dove for his seat, surprised. "Clear behind us?" Murdock called back.
Face stuck his head out the side of the chopper. "Clear on right!"
BA dove for the other side, leaving the large box unsecured. Murdock already had the chopper light on its skids, without waiting for BA's response. "All clear!"
Face shook his head, ran his hands through his wet hair, and grabbed his shirt off the cargo bay floor. He slipped it on, but left it unbuttoned. Having the opportunity to harmlessly vent some of the latent frustration on a well-deserving target was almost as much of a relief as the swim itself had been. He was in a remarkably good mood – especially for having just done a casualty extraction. They'd go back to the base, he'd be able to report back to Jeffries that his bird and the men under his temporary command were all home safe and with lightened spirits, and after a few drinks it will have been a pretty good day.
Murdock gestured over his shoulder and Face picked up the headset lying beside him just as the pilot keyed the mic. "Hey, Face! Watch this!"
Face didn't have a chance to respond before the chopper suddenly lurched. Face immediately and instinctively reached for something to grab onto. It took him a moment to realize that it was exactly what Murdock had been intending to do, although Snap certainly seemed surprised.
Suddenly, the whole back of the chopper shook as if someone had grabbed it and thrown it back down. The screeching sound of warping metal was deafening and suddenly, they were spinning. The unsecured toolbox flew through the cargo area and between the two pilots, shattering the windshield and destroying the instrument panel along the way. His brain caught up with what was happening as he realized something was terribly wrong. But there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it but hold on.
Face gripped the side of the doorway so hard, his fingers ached. It was like an amusement park ride, spinning rapidly in the large cage. Choking back the panic, he closed his eyes and breathed slow, deep. Panicking would accomplish nothing. Murdock would either regain control of the chopper or he wouldn't.
The Huey tilted left. The rotors hit the water's surface like a cement wall and they fell hard. Face lost his grip. He was thrown clear of the chopper, and barely managed a gasp before he hit the water's surface. The deafening sound of the crash was lost to the water as he went under, and he pulled himself back up as quickly as possible, searching for footing on the shifting sand, in water a little deeper than his waist.
He looked back at the chopper, breathing hard. It was mangled – the rear and top rotors were warped and the gear box was missing off the back of it. Face stared in horror as Snap stumbled out of the right side, fell into the water, and scrambled over to him. Still stunned and not yet able to think clearly, he moved when Snap pushed him, away from the wreckage.
He hadn't gone far when he heard Murdock's voice. "Hey Faceman!" Face looked back, eyes still wide. "Swim upstream, jackass! Not downstream!"
Face stared. It took a moment for the words to compute. Murdock and BA were standing on the shore, safe. Face and Snap were standing in waist deep water and JP4, leaking from the Huey's damaged fuel tank. They went wide, around the worst of the spill and to the bank of the river. Face was slowly beginning to process what had just happened.
"What was it I was supposed to watch, Murdock?" Face called as he came within reasonable talking distance.
"Yeah, how'd you like that takeoff?"
Face laughed, nearing hysterics as it suddenly dawned on him that he was going to find a way to tell Captain Jeffries about this – to say nothing of Hannibal. "Jesus, Murdock, how are we supposed to explain this? You know what it took to get them to let us off that base for a simple supply run? And now you just crashed their chopper in the river!"
"We…! I…!" Snap had no words as he stumbled to shore. "I could…! I could lose my wings for…! But I didn't…!"
"Nah, don't worry 'bout it, kid," Murdock assured him with a wave. "I'll take care of it."
Face's eyes widened. "You'll take care of it?" Like hell Murdock would take care of it. Murdock hadn't even been able to get the chopper in the first place. It had taken Face some pleading, some promises, and a good deal of bargaining to get them clearance to fly. "I'm the one who stuck my neck out to get us this chopper!"
"Alright, so you'll take care of it," Murdock shrugged.
Face stared at him, incredulously. Was he kidding? Murdock looked like a kid at a carnival, not a care in the world. Did he have no idea what kind of trouble they were going to get into? Before Face had a chance to respond, Murdock raised his hands to his mouth again and shouted at the top of his lungs at the other chopper. "Hey you! Assholes downriver!"
Face had almost forgotten about the other chopper. As he turned, he saw the entire crew staring, gaping at them. "That's JP4 you're standing in, you idiots! Anybody got a match?"
Face was stunned by the joking, carefree tone of Murdock's voice. He really had no idea what he'd just done. "Look at those fools." Murdock grinned at Snap, who was also staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Can you believe they're just sitting there?"
"You're the fool, Murdock!" BA grabbed his shoulder, jerking him back a little. "You coulda killed us all!"
"But I didn't," Murdock reminded with a wide grin. He pulled away and BA let him go, not entirely sure what else to do with him. Murdock immediately turned back to the other chopper crew, jumping at the opportunity to further antagonize them. "Hey, stupid! I think I left the battery switch on!"
Face raised a hand to his cheek, jaw still dropped as he looked again at the mangled chopper. That thing would probably never fly again. How in the hell was he supposed to explain that? What was he even supposed to say? "Geez, Murdock…"
It was going to test every fraction of his smooth-talking abilities to get them out of this one.
"What's on your mind, kid?"
The sound of Hannibal's voice made Face's eyes shift, but he didn't turn his head. "Nothing worth discussing." As if to punctuate his words, he threw back another gulp of Jack Daniels, and set the glass back on the bar top to refill it. "You hear from Westman yet?" Until they got word, they were stuck in the camp near the Bong Son River. Face wasn't sure how much longer they'd be able to stay here before the camp commander filed a formal complaint. Actually, given that Murdock had just crashed one of the camp's choppers into the river during a "miscalculated" prank, that complaint had probably already been filed earlier in the day. Jeffries had been pissed, to put it mildly.
"We're go for tomorrow morning."
Face gave a sigh of relief. "It's about damn time." He stared at the shot glass as he swirled the amber liquor, careful not to let it spill over the sides.
"But it's off the books."
Face gave a cynical snort of laughter. "What isn't off the books?"
Hannibal grabbed the bottle and walked around the bar to get a glass, then returned and filled it. "I saw Cruiser leave earlier," Hannibal said quietly. "How's his arm?"
"He got shot, Hannibal," Face reminded, dryly. "He's not goin' on the ground again anytime soon."
"Figured you'd be going with him into town."
Face sighed. "Cruiser and I are not joined at the hip."
"Not tonight…"
"Look." Face turned and stared Hannibal squarely in the eye. "Why don't you just say what you're trying to say?" He had enough to think about without throwing Cruiser into the mix.
"What happened today?" Hannibal asked pointedly, looking away.
"I didn't feel like going with Cruiser to the whorehouse. Is that a problem?"
Hannibal took a sip of whiskey. "Alright, let me rephrase." He paused for a moment as he set the glass down and turned once again to Face. "What happened at the Bong Son River today?"
Face threw back his drink and sat up with an audible sigh. "I don't know much about it, Hannibal."
"Murdock crashed a helicopter into the river," Hannibal reminded, his tone incredulous. "You didn't hear about that? Because I heard you were there."
"You're going to have to ask him about it."
"I'm asking you," Hannibal shot. Face looked over at him, waiting for the rest. "Because you were the one who conned your way into getting that chopper off this base and into the air when your orders were to stay put."
"My orders were to stay out of trouble," Face corrected.
A flicker of emotion – something akin to anger – crossed Hannibal's eyes. "Crashing a helicopter into a river qualifies as trouble. What the hell were you doing out there anyways? Going for a swim?"
"Actually, we were washing blood out of the cargo bay," Face glared back.
Hannibal was silenced. But the look in his eyes made it clear that he was still expecting an explanation for the day's events. Face sighed deeply, and poured another shot. "Look, I don't know what went wrong, okay? I talked to Snap and he's writing up some kind of explanation."
"Some kind of explanation? Or what actually happened?"
"I told you. I don't know what happened."
"Is he safe to fly or not?"
Face shut his eyes. He'd known the question was coming. He hated hearing it. "You're asking me to make that call?"
"I can ask Snap…"
"At this point, Snap is going to say whatever he has to say not to lose his wings. I don't think he cares too much about his position on this team, either."
"And yet you're trusting him to write that report."
"What else am I supposed to do?" Face challenged, anger creeping into his voice. "I can't write it up. I don't know a damn thing about helicopters!"
"Are you going to answer my question or not?"
Face turned his head away and remained silent.
With a sigh, Hannibal reached into his pocket for a cigar and paused to light it. After another sip of whiskey, he finally spoke again. "I don't get it, Face. A few weeks ago, you and Cruiser were both looking for any excuse you could find to get him off the team."
"I never said that."
"It was certainly the impression I got."
"I said he drives me nuts. I didn't say I wanted him to lose his wings, get dishonorably discharged."
"You know this is gonna come down on you, right?"
Face stared down at the liquor on the bar in front of him, the glass resting between his fingers.
"I flew eight thousand miles to bring him back, you know," Hannibal reminded. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. But if he's going to get us killed out there, we need to know now."
Face half-laughed at that. "Cruiser's been saying that for weeks."
"And I told him that as soon as I saw something that confirmed it, I'd take note." He paused briefly. "But I wasn't there. You were. So I'm asking you."
Still, Face said nothing. Hannibal finished the rest of his drink and left the glass on the bar as he stood up. "I'm leaving it to you, Lieutenant. You want to change your mind on that report, I'll back you up. I trust your judgment."
Without another word, Hannibal turned, clapping Face on the shoulder. "Why?" Face asked, not turning to look at him. "Why now?"
Hannibal was quiet for a moment. "Because he's a pilot. And if he can't do a pilot's job safely, I can't use him."
Face turned and glared at him. "All this time, you're going to argue with us that he's not a threat. Now all of a sudden you want me to make the call that he is? Is this just some fucked up effort to keep it off of your conscience when he goes home and blows his fucking brains out?"
"No," Hannibal answered simply.
Face's eyes narrowed into slits. "That's a fucking lie."
Hannibal paused for a moment, then stepped closer. "It wouldn't be the first time I've put the whole team – including myself – on the line for one man. Cruiser may have an excuse for forgetting that. You don't. But there's a difference between putting it on the line and being careless."
"I get it," Face snapped. "And that's not the point."
"If what you saw out there makes you not want him at the controls, I'll strip his wings and his rank and send him home tomorrow. But I'm not going to do that on hearsay. Because you're right. He probably will go home and blow his brains out. And to say I'm willing to have that on my conscience is a far cry from being excited about it."
Face didn't speak. Hannibal grabbed his glass again, and poured from the bottle on the bar in front of Face, throwing it back. "I just want to know, Lieutenant," Hannibal said flatly. "I want your honest assessment, not what you feel like you have to say. What I choose to do with that is on my conscience, one way or the other. To say nothing of my military record."
He set the glass down and stood straight, turning away again. "Just let me know, Face. And I'll deal with it."
He didn't say another word as he headed for the door. This time, Face didn't call him back.
