Face was up on the roof of the hootch again. It was the one place where he could hear if anyone was looking for him, but no one would actually him unless he wanted to be found. Well, no one except Murdock who - by way of previous success in finding him up here - had actually thought to look. Face turned his head as Murdock hoisted himself up onto the reinforced corrugated tin, but didn't say anything.
With one arm under his head, his bandaged hand on his chest, Face turned his head back to stare up at the sky with distant, unfocused eyes. The stars seemed to swirl when he did that. It was almost enough to make him dizzy.
"Mind the company?" Murdock asked as he lay down next to Face, a couple of feet between them. It wasn't really a question. He was clearly making himself comfortable, one way or another.
"Constellations are kinda different over here," Murdock said softly. "But when it's calm and peaceful like this, it still feels like layin' out in the fields back home. Staring at the stars."
Face was quiet for a long moment. Calm and peaceful was a rare treat. He wasn't sure when the last time was that they were far enough away that they couldn't hear some camp getting shelled. Or, worse, their own. "I could never see the stars in LA," he said quietly. "At least not like this. Between the lights and the pollution... and just not having any place to go..."
"You ever see any Van Gogh paintings? He did this one of the night sky where all the stars burn and blaze and spiral like Catherine wheels. He was crazy, but bein' crazy helped him see through things, y'know?"
There was something wrong with him. Face could hear it in his voice. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, but something was clearly off.
"Maybe you wanna find yourself some place... quiet. When you get back."
Face was quiet for a long moment, considering that. At long length, he sighed. "I'm never going back to LA."
"How come?"
Face shook his head slightly. "There's nothing there for me. Just memories. A person I don't even remember anymore."
He heard the words coming out of his mouth, and knew he should swallow them. He didn't talk about this. He never talked about this. It was dangerous, and foolish, and pointless. But at the moment, he was too tired to watch his words. And for some strange, unidentifiable reason, he simply didn't want to clamp his jaw shut and revert to safe silence. Maybe he was just too damn tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of arguing. Tired of trying to be so strong when it was perfectly evident that he wasn't. What did he have to hide, at this point? What did he even care to hide?
"I don't think I can go back home," Murdock said quietly. "I'm nothing like the guy who left. I don't... I can't even explain the shit that's happened to me but I can't pretend it didn't. Plus it's not like there's anyone waiting for me."
Face didn't answer.
"Maybe you can never go back, anyway." He sighed and finally took a cigarette out of the packet he'd been holding, put it in his mouth and lit it before offering Face the pack. "Want one?"
Face looked at the pack for a moment, then gave a sort of cynical half-laugh under his breath as he took a cigarette. But he didn't say anything.
"What's funny?"
Murdock flicked his lighter and held it out for Face to use, leaning up on his other elbow to do so. Face leaned into the lighter, then sat all the way up once the cigarette was lit, shifting his rifle as he pulled his knees up and hunched over them. "You know, ever since that first argument in Nha Trang, you've been a real pain in the ass."
Murdock snorted. "But you love me anyways." He grinned and then froze as he caught the words coming out of his mouth. "I didn't mean that."
Face turned and looked at him as he dragged on his cigarette. He was damn near paranoid. And given the bruises that had yet to fade completely away, he sure as hell had reason to be. After a long moment, Face looked away again. "Tell me something, Murdock."
"Anything."
Face leaned back, supporting his weight on one arm as he rested the other on his knees, cigarette between his fingers. "Why did it matter so much to you?"
"It? You mean us? When we…?" Murdock took a deep breath, trying hard not to squirm. "Or what? Sorry, man, I don't get what you're asking, here."
Face sighed and shook his head. "Murdock, I don't give a shit about that. I never did."
"About what?" Murdock swallowed. "What was that?"
Face studied him silently for a long moment. There was pain in his eyes. Confusion and a need to understand. Face took another long drag and reached up to massage the bridge of his nose. "Look, sometimes stuff just… comes out wrong."
Right now, he didn't have a better explanation than that, although Murdock's long silence begged for one. "So… what was it that came out wrong?"
Face sighed. "What do you want me to say, Murdock?"
"I don't know."
Face hesitated for a long moment, dragging again on his cigarette, then looked up and met Murdock's gaze. "You never answered my question."
"About what?"
"Why it mattered."
Head lowered, Murdock shrugged. "I don't know what you mean."
"I mean me."
Face was surprised by how raw it felt to say those words. It seemed like a simple question. It had sounded simple in his head. But hearing it - his own words, his own voice... that was another matter altogether. Murdock had been through hell over this. Determined to find that friendship if it killed him. And it nearly had. As much as Face didn't want to dwell on it - as much as he chose not to - Murdock was probably the only person in his entire life that had shown him something so... unconditional.
"Why do I bother with you?" Murdock laughed, but it held no humor. "Jesus, Face. Sometimes I think you never had a friend in your life."
Face didn't respond. Murdock sighed and rubbed his hand over his face, then pulled himself into a sitting position. He stared at his own knees for a while, smoking deeply. "I like you, Face. It was... I don't think it was anything you did, but you just clicked for me. Friendship was important to me because you were."
"I never did anything to encourage that."
"Oh, I know." Another dry laugh. "And that was kinda part of it. I wanted to be someone you didn't feel you had to... pretend with. And for. You should be just a kid, Face. And you're not. I figure that happened long before 'Nam, but…" He shook his head, realizing as Face stared at him that he was rambling.
"Sometimes you - I - meet someone," he continued quietly, "and it's like... I can't say it's like I knew you all my life, 'cause still don't think I know you. I just trusted you. I get that you didn't feel anythin' but you didn't hafta be my friend for me to be yours. Some things are just... fate. There's a person you're just meant to know and be willing to go to hell and back with. And for. This team - and especially you - it... felt right. And fighting for it felt right. I just went with my gut. I don't know how else to say it."
Face turned and stared at his feet, the mud and grass and blood and god-knows-what-else that had he didn't even bother cleaning off anymore. "I see friends... a little different than you do," he admitted. "What you're talking about isn't a friend. It's family. And no, I've never had that. I told you that a long time ago."
"Now see, you say things like that and I just wanna give you a big ol' hug."
Face sighed. "Please don't."
"I've had friends that were closer than anything I call family. But maybe I also had a weird family. Friendship is thicker than blood."
Face sighed deeply and drew his legs in, crossing them in front of him. He rubbed absently at the corrugated tin, still warm from the day's heat even though the sun had been down for hours. "Yeah, well, I never had family, either. So I really couldn't tell you."
"You never had anybody?" Murdock pulled a flask out of his pocket and took a drink. "I don't expect you to actually answer that. I just don't know how you survived."
Face took in a slow deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. He took a second with the cigarette in his lips, and let the smoke pass through his nose. "There were people who cared. Priests and nuns." He glanced up at the sky again. "I had a father figure. A dozen mothers, at least. But it was never..." He shook his head, unable to explain. "It's not what you think of when you say family. And the kids I grew up with... They weren't either."
"You grew up in a church home?"
"Catholic orphanage."
"God..." Murdock leaned forwards over his own legs, curled up like a pretzel.
Face shrugged. "I told you before, my mother dropped me off there when I was five. I don't really remember it - or her - but as vague as it is, it's still the first thing I do remember. From what they told me later - what happened when I first got there and I was," he took a deep breath and held it, "detox-ing - there's probably a good reason why I don't remember."
Murdock was staring at him. "You can do that? Just… forget things?"
He glanced at Murdock out of the corner of his eye and let out a long, slow breath. "You don't have to. The mind will do it on its own. Protect itself. Knowing that is what makes me not want to know the things I don't remember."
"Yeah, but… if it's your family."
"I don't have family," Face said flatly.
"Aw, come on, Facey." Clearly it hurt him to hear those words. "At the very least, you got family now. You got the team, right?"
"I try not to think of the team like family. Any time we set down, any one of us could be gone without any last words."
Murdock shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, but… it's all we got, right?" He looked around at the camp, then reached over, grabbed Face's shoulder and squeezed, leaving his hand there. "You guys are all I've got."
Face looked at his hand, then looked away. "I had a friend I got... attached to," he said hesitantly. He took one last drag from his cigarette, then put it out and immediately wished for something to do with his hands. "I swore I'd never do it again."
"Oh, God, man. I'm sorry. I wish I'd known."
Face chuckled. "Like it would've made a difference?" With a slight smirk, he raised a brow at Murdock.
"I'd still have wanted to be your friend. But I might not have expected you to ever become mine."
Face cut his gaze away again. "Kinda defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"
"Nah. That's the point. I ain't looking for nothin' from you. I just wanted to give you somethin'. Y'know?"
Face was quiet for a long moment. He turned, studied Murdock for a long moment, then looked away. "I'm sorry."
Murdock stubbed out his cigarette and flicked the butt off the roof. "What the hell for?" Murdock's confusion was utterly honest.
"For how it ended."
Murdock's face fell, and he lowered his eyes away. "It ain't over yet, Facey."
"You know that I mean."
Murdock didn't respond.
Face took a deep, slow breath. "I don't know... what you wanted." He pulled at the ties on the bottom of his fatigues, tying and untying them nervously, twisting them. Finally, he shot a quick glance at Murdock. "But I know that wasn't it. And what happened to you..." He lowered his head again as he looked away. "If anything, it should've happened to me."
"No," Murdock said flatly. "You don't get to do that."
Face glanced at him.
"You didn't force me or anything. It happened."
"It shouldn't have."
"Yeah, but it did. And, much as I wish there hadn't been any fall out, I'd rather it had been me than you."
"Everybody wishes that. Doesn't make it right." Face leaned forward, holding the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "And anyway, that's not that point."
"Then what is?"
Face took a deep, slow breath, but didn't look up. "I know I've said a lot of things that..." He sighed, exasperated, and dropped his hands as he tipped his head back, looking at the sky again. Shit, how was he supposed to say this?
"It's okay. Just say it." Murdock shrugged. "I can guarantee I've heard worse."
Face sighed. "It doesn't mean anything. Not like..." Damn it, he couldn't believe he was explaining this. Or even that he was trying to. He took another slow breath. "I don't know what you're looking for. But I know how to be that kind of friend. That doesn't mean that it means anything at all to me. It doesn't even mean that it's what I want because I really… It doesn't mean anything to me. It's just the way it is."
He wasn't sure if that made any sense at all. But he wasn't about to maintain eye contact long enough to find out. He turned away, and reached for his cigarettes. His chest was tight with how difficult those words had been to get out.
He heard Murdock take a deep breath. He held it for a minute and let it out slowly. "Let me see if I can get this right," he started hesitantly. "You thought I needed something from you. You know how to do casual sex, so you thought casual sex was a good idea?"
Face was trying hard not to squirm. He didn't like those words. They were too... blatant. "It's not casual sex. It's not about sex, damn it." He was irritated, but not at Murdock. He was frustrated as hell at his own inability to make the words make sense. He grabbed a cigarette and hunched over as he lit it.
"So, it was… what? You saying you cared?"
Face sighed. It was more than that, but that was as close an explanation as he was probably going to get. "I can't explain it, Murdock."
"It's okay." Murdock hesitated. "So that wasn't the answer, but I don't think either of us knew what the question was. It's okay. Bad calls happen."
Face dropped the pack of cigarettes on the tin roof beside him and took a long drag. "It's just..." He let the smoke out slowly, and shut his eyes, hesitating for a long moment after it was out. "I'm sorry. That's my point. You didn't do that; I did. And you didn't deserve... what happened to you."
"Maybe not. But I don't think Cruiser deserved it either."
Face could feel the coldness settle over him at the mention of Cruiser's name. "Trust me. Cruiser deserved it."
Murdock sighed. "It's not for his sake I say that. It's for Hannibal's."
Face didn't answer.
"You know... I don't agree with what you did, exactly. But I do appreciate it."
"It wasn't about you," Face said coldly. He paused for a long drag, and lowered his voice further. "Not in the end."
Murdock turned toward, worry and shock written on his face in equal measure. "He went after you?"
Face hesitated a moment, keeping his eyes lowered away. "In a manner of speaking."
He glanced up at Murdock briefly and saw the look of confusion on his face.
"I was pissed because of what he did to you. But it escalated because of what he said to me." He looked away. "And I'd just as soon leave it at that."
"Sure. What a fuck up situation all round." Murdock sighed deeply and pulled the flask out again. "Drink?"
Face took it gratefully. He took a drink, then sighed as he handed it back. "I know it doesn't mean anything to you because you don't want to acknowledge that I did anything wrong. But I really am sorry about... all of it. If nothing else, I said a lot of things - did a lot of things – and went out of my way to make them hurt. Whether or not you want to acknowledge that is beside the point. I did it. And I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted," Murdock said quietly. He took a long swallow from the flask. "What about Hannibal?"
Face shifted uncomfortably. "What about him?"
"Have you squared things with him?" Murdock frowned. "His team's kinda falling apart. I don't think that's gone over well."
"We haven't talked about it." Face hunched forward, lifting the cigarette to his lips again.
"You gonna?" Murdock took another swallow of liquor and offered the flask again.
Face sighed audibly and took it. "Hell, I wouldn't even know what to say to him at this point."
"But you will, though, right? He's got a right to know."
"You were the one who wanted to keep it from him."
Murdock shifted into a more comfortable position. "I just want the team to come together again," he admitted quietly.
Face licked his lips slowly. Of course Murdock wanted that. But somehow, it sounded like some sort of fucked up fairy tale. At this point, the team was damaged beyond repair. Cruiser was gone, and he wasn't coming back. Even if he did, Face knew they wouldn't function as a team together. Not anymore. Too much had changed. Hannibal would know that. He would see it. But when it came down to it, he probably did have some right to know what had happened. It was his team, and his ass on the line with Westman, after all.
Face took a slow breath, and let his eyes slide shut as he nodded slowly. "I'll talk to him."
Face stood at a distance, watching the silent figure that was sitting in the mud, leaned against the sandbag wall outside the hooch. He still wasn't sure what he was doing here; Face had expected to be called to the next camp, not for Hannibal to return and escort them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Face was wondering if it meant something had gone wrong.
Hannibal reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. It was the best – and maybe the only – opportunity Face would have. He approached slowly as Hannibal felt his other pockets. "Need a light?"
Hannibal looked up at him, and the lighter in his outstretched hand. He hesitated, but finally took it, covering the flame with his free hand out of habit and lighting the cigar. By the time he passed the lighter back, Face had seated himself nearby, his own back against the wall and his knees pulled up in front of him. He didn't say anything, and for a long moment, it was silent. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it was thick. Almost as thick as the wall that stood between them.
Finally, Hannibal sighed, resting his head back on the sandbags, eyes closed. "I'm tired, Face," he admitted softly. Face didn't look at him, didn't respond. Hannibal breathed deeply, and let it out in a heartfelt sigh. "I'm tired and I'm ready to go home."
Face hunched over his knees, watching as he dug the toe of his boot into the mud. "Well, it's about damn time," he said quietly. He glanced over at Hannibal. "As long as I've known you, you've never been able to sit still for more than two days. That'll burn anyone out after so long."
"It's not that," Hannibal answered. But he said nothing more.
Face studied him silently, but decided not to pry. He let it go, and let the silence linger for a few more minutes, watching in the darkness as the night's patrol team passed out through the wire and into the jungle. "So where's home?" he finally asked. "In the States."
"Doesn't much matter. I won't be going back there."
Face nodded slowly. "Where will you go?"
Hannibal paused, as if considering. "I don't know. LA maybe. Miami. Someplace warm."
"No family?"
"No."
Face used his finger to trace designs in the mud, careful not to get it all over his bandages. His palms hurt like hell where the glass had cut. Too many nerves there. Not to mention the excruciating pain of bone shifting on bone…
"What about you, Lieutenant?"
The question caught him off guard. "Huh?"
Hannibal turned his head, studying the younger man for a long, quiet moment. "Where's home?"
Face glanced away, reflecting thoughtfully. "I'm thinking Las Vegas."
"No family?"
"No. No one." He sighed deeply. "I grew up in LA, but there's nothing there for me. Weather's nice, but…" He let his voice trail off.
Hannibal was quiet. After a long pause, Face turned to him again. "You plan on staying in?" he asked quietly. "Or are you tired enough to actually retire?"
Hannibal didn't answer.
Face looked away again with a sigh. It was hard to think about the future as more than just an abstract concept. For so long, they had all conditioned themselves to embrace death as the only possible outcome of their service, it seemed strange to plan a life after the war.
"You've got some pretty thick bandages on your hands."
Face looked down at them. "Bled a lot," he answered quietly.
"Will you be able to hold a weapon?"
"I should be." At least with one hand… He glanced up. "How's Cruiser?"
"You shattered his nose and broke his cheekbone and his jaw in three places. I'm surprised you didn't break your fucking hand."
Face shut his eyes. "Shit…"
Hannibal remained quiet for a long moment, chewing on his cigar. "You're also lucky he isn't pressing charges, Lieutenant. If I were in his shoes, I sure as hell would."
Face opened his eyes to stare at the ground in front of him. "Where are they sending him?" he asked quietly. Those injuries were too extensive to be treated in their camp, and he knew it.
"Japan. And he's already gone."
Face nodded slowly, very carefully considering his thoughts on the matter. "I'm sorry," he finally said, so low it was barely audible.
"Hell of a lot of good it does him now."
"Not for him," Face clarified. He glanced up, and caught Hannibal's eye. "For you. That I put you in this position."
Hannibal looked away. He was quiet for a long moment before he finally spoke, so low it was barely audible. "I know why you did it."
Face didn't answer.
Hannibal's head lowered as he studied his cigar for a moment. "If you were trying to hide it," he said quietly, "you forgot to clean the back of the chopper."
Face shut his eyes and took a deep breath in, then let it out slow. "I didn't forget," he whispered. "I just didn't have time."
"Well, I don't know what part Cruiser had to play in it." Hannibal set the cigar between his teeth again. "All I know is what I saw in that chopper. But I might've done the same thing in your shoes. Which is not to say that makes it right."
"It doesn't make it fair, either," Face said bitterly. "Murdock didn't do a damn thing to deserve that. Cruiser did. Every fucking bit of it. And I'm not sorry."
"Whether he deserved it or not, Face, if he'd filed charges, I would've followed through with them."
"Do what you've gotta do, Colonel." Face lowered his head as he lit a cigarette and took a long, slow drag. "I won't even fight you on it."
"I just wish you would've let me handle it, kid."
"Why?" Face gave a quick, cynical laugh. "What were you gonna do?" He looked over, his eyes full of anger and skepticism. "You couldn't have proved a damn thing. You couldn't have even formed a case without dragging Murdock through the mud and destroying his career."
"I wouldn't have had to," Hannibal said firmly. "And I would've gotten Cruiser off this team."
"Yeah, well." Face paused and scowled at the ground. "Looks like I saved you the trouble."
Hannibal sighed, and shook his head. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Face," he sighed. "But if you go back to the States like this, you're going to end up killing somebody. And no court is going to be sympathetic to your reasons."
"I know," Face answered, barely a whisper. "I'm working on it."
"You could've killed him."
Face was quiet for a moment. Finally, he looked up and met Hannibal's eye. "If I'd wanted to kill him," he whispered, "I would've done it."
"That's what scares me."
Face held his stare for a long moment, then looked away. "What am I supposed to do about it, Hannibal?" he asked quietly. "You know as well as I do what it feels like. Hell, I don't even look at a man anymore without thinking of how many ways I could kill him."
Hannibal was silent. Finally, he sighed deeply. "I don't have an answer for you, kid," he admitted. "But I think there's a difference between knowing what you're physically capable of… and knowing what you would do."
"I would've had no problem cutting his throat."
"That's the part that needs to change."
"How? How the hell do you regain the fear of taking a life?"
Hannibal looked at him - a steady, calm gaze. "It's not fear. It's respect."
Face studied him for a long moment, then looked away. "Like I said, Hannibal. I'm working on it."
The silence that fell over them was full of unspoken words. Finally, Face remembered why he'd come out here in the first place, and took a few slow, deep breaths as he searched for a way to say it. Eyes trained on the mud as he poked at it with his finger, Face didn't look up as he finally spoke.
"Murdock and I…" He swallowed. Damn it, if there was anything he didn't want to talk about, this was it. "We had a fight."
"Again?" Hannibal's horrified response was instantaneous.
"No," Face chuckled, realizing how Hannibal had heard those words. "No, not again. It's…" He took another deep, calming breath, feeling Hannibal's eyes on him. "It was a few days ago."
Hannibal sighed audibly and held his head in his hand. "Face…"
"It was just an argument," Face clarified. "But it was… Cruiser walked in and… misunderstood."
Hannibal looked up again, watching him and waiting for more. Face hesitated. "Cruiser misunderstood what was happening and he uh…" His chest was tight, and he found himself pausing for a breath before he'd even finished his sentence. "He talked about it… Somewhere to someone… He didn't use discretion."
Finally, Hannibal turned his head away. Face could literally feel the weight of his stare lift. "That's what got Murdock beat up," he continued quietly. "I don't know if he's talked to you at all about it but…" He choked, and shifted uncomfortably. "That's why he wasn't with us for that last drop."
"I figured that out from the bruises," Hannibal answered quietly. "I'm not a complete idiot."
"Did he talk about it at all?"
"No," Hannibal answered quietly. "He wouldn't."
"Well, he's…" Face sighed deeply. "I'll let him deal with that. It's not really my place. I just wanted to tell you because… that's what this was all about." He glanced up, and caught Hannibal's gaze briefly before looking away. "It was about Murdock. And about me."
Hannibal concentrated on the fence that wound around the camp as the space between them grew silent again. After several long, quiet minutes, he finally spoke again. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"
Face hesitated, then shook his head. "No," he answered confidently. "But if there was," he looked Hannibal in the eye, "would you really want to know?"
"Maybe." He chewed on his cigar, eyes locked on the young lieutenant. "Guess that depends on what it is."
Face sighed and looked away. "I take it you heard the rumor, too."
"I didn't hear your name in it," Hannibal granted. "But I figured."
"Would it matter, Hannibal?" Face challenged, his voice suddenly more sure than it had been since he'd sat down and started this conversation. "If it was true, would it make one damn bit of difference? To you?"
Hannibal studied him for a moment, then turned his eyes back to the camp perimeter with a sigh. "You're a damn good soldier, Face," he finally offered. "Only a fool would deny that."
"You didn't answer my question."
"I wouldn't like it," Hannibal answered abruptly. "But I don't like that you just beat the hell out of my medic, either. Or that trouble seems to just find you every time I let you out of my sight. But you're not here because I like you. You're here because you're good."
Face straightened noticeably. Hannibal watched him shut down as if he'd just flipped a switched. His jaw set and his eyes darkened, and the wall between them that had been slowly crumbling suddenly found reinforcements. Hannibal sighed and looked away. "Look, when it comes right down to it, Lieutenant, you're here because you're the best. And that's what I care about. If what you do on your personal time interferes with that, then you bet your ass I care about it. If it doesn't, then I don't see how it's any of my business. Or Cruiser's."
Face was silent for a long moment. Finally, Hannibal heard him speak, so low he could barely make out the words. "There's nothing with me and Murdock," he informed. "It was just a misunderstanding."
Hannibal nodded slowly. "Is he okay?"
"To fly? No." Face took another drag from the cigarette. "But he'll tell you that he is."
"What all is wrong with him?"
"His shoulder was dislocated, he's got two broken fingers and a broken nose and at least three cracked ribs – possibly more." Face's voice wavered a bit. "He wouldn't even go to the dispensary and let them look at him."
"Why didn't you at least come to me?"
"I tried. He didn't want any part of it." Face paused for a long moment. "Look, Hannibal, my advice? For what it's worth?" He finished his cigarette and put it out in the mud, then rested his head back against the wall behind him. "Let it go. He wants to pretend like nothing happened, like you don't know. He's not stupid, he knows that you do. But if you bring it up, you're only going to humiliate him."
"You realize that pretending everything is okay means putting him at the controls again. I don't know if I'm willing to take that risk."
"I'm not either. Just make sure Snap is on the right side."
"Snap is being reassigned." Hannibal glanced up and locked eyes with Face briefly. "Per his request."
"Shit…" Face shook his head as he looked away. He'd forgotten about that. "Then find another right-side pilot."
Hannibal sighed deeply. For a long moment, he was quiet. Then, finally, he withdrew the cigar from between his teeth again. "It's over, Face."
Face blinked, surprised and confused. "What's over?"
"Westman wants to know what's going on. And he has a right to know." Hannibal's eyes lowered to the ground as he shook his head. "In the past two weeks, my senior pilot crashed a chopper into the Bong Son River for no apparent reason. My junior pilot wrote up a falsified report, then quit the team. My XO signed that report knowing it was complete bullshit. My medic started rumors that are now running all over Nha Trang about Murdock and believe me, Westman will hear them sooner or later. My radio operator got into a fistfight with a full colonel – which you didn't even hear about because you were too busy beating Cruiser within an inch of his life. You're telling me now that Murdock can't fly and I'm inclined to agree. All of this is not to mention that we haven't had a truly successful mission in almost a month."
"They haven't given us anything feasible that we could –"
"That never mattered before," Hannibal cut him off. He turned and looked Face in the eye. "It's over, kid." He sighed deeply, leaned forward, and put his head in his hands. "And I am so goddamn tired."
Face stared at him, shocked by what he was hearing. That sounded almost like defeat. Was that really what he was saying? He was really giving up? "So what are we supposed to do now?" he asked, still stunned.
"I'm going to finish my tour in an office in Saigon. You can go back to CCN if you've still got it in you. You're good at it; we both know that."
Face's jaw was slack. "Just like that?"
Hannibal nodded solemnly. "Yeah, Face. Just like that."
Face swallowed hard. Without thought, he lit another cigarette and turned his head away, letting it slowly sink in. "So when does all this happen?"
"We've got one more mission Westman already promised us on. As soon as we come back, we report directly to him for reassignment."
"One more mission," Face repeated quietly. "For who?"
"Morrison."
Face let out his breath in a hiss. "I can't stand him."
Hannibal didn't answer.
"So what's the mission?"
"I don't know." Hannibal sighed, and let his eyes slide closed as he put his head back against the wall behind him. "Something or another up in Hanoi."
