Breaking Out the Broken
Mar. 16th, 2013 06:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notjustaface"God damn it..." Face sighs as the stolen pickup rolls countless miles from Florida toward California. They've been cooped up almost two days but said no more than a hundred words between them that weren't about stopping for food or to take a leak. "I was one week away from parole."
"And now you're out." Hannibal replies with a maddening calm. "We've got unfinished business, Face."
"You don't understand..." he sighs, a humorless chuckle closing his throat. "I was so close... so fucking close to clenching my plan. You don't know what I had to go through to make everything fall right into place."
"Plan? What plan?"
"Germany, man. I had him transferred there three months ago because I know a guy that can get me a job there after I get out. All it would take is jumping my parole for a quick little boat ride to a new fucking life." He sighs loudly, taking a deep drink off his nearly empty water bottle.
"You got Murdock transferred to Germany? His file said he was being sent to a specialist... who did you sleep with to make that happen?"
"Yeah, well... I was very thorough." He replies bitterly; "You have your ways and I have mine, okay?"
Several miles of silence stretch between them before Hannibal asks; "So, you and Murdock?"
He nods silently, and then ignores the tug in his guts at the meaning behind his own words - wondering if he'd even still be wanted after the way things worked out. "Yeah, me and Murdock."
Hannibal lights a cigar, puffing idly as they near the cheap motel they're crashing at for the night. "What exactly was your end game there, Face? House with a white picket fence? Invisible dog, couple of kids?"
"Yeah, maybe. I don't know, all right? I just... I told him I would fix this. And I owe it to him to keep a promise."
"We are fixing this. All of us. It's time to soldier up and make things right."
A bitter laugh rattles out again and Face sighs; "You know, I don't know about you - but I'm pretty sure we're not soldiers anymore. That whole stripped of rank - sent to prison thing made it kind of clear what Uncle Sam wants."
The tires screamed down the center of the freeway as Hannibal laid on the brakes - guiding it into the shoulder before catching Face with a strong right across the jaw. "Don't you dare, we have come too far you to decide you don't care if you go down for crimes you didn't commit. You're a ranger, son. That doesn't just go away when they take your stripes."
"What do you want form me?" Face shoots back, holding his jaw. "All I want to do is go back to the way things were."
"We can't do that, but we can fix this." Hannibal sighs, waiting a long breath before he asks; "Are you in?"
"Yeah..." he replies quickly, but with a certain resignation in his voice. "Let's... let's get the boys and the plates."
"And now you're out." Hannibal replies with a maddening calm. "We've got unfinished business, Face."
"You don't understand..." he sighs, a humorless chuckle closing his throat. "I was so close... so fucking close to clenching my plan. You don't know what I had to go through to make everything fall right into place."
"Plan? What plan?"
"Germany, man. I had him transferred there three months ago because I know a guy that can get me a job there after I get out. All it would take is jumping my parole for a quick little boat ride to a new fucking life." He sighs loudly, taking a deep drink off his nearly empty water bottle.
"You got Murdock transferred to Germany? His file said he was being sent to a specialist... who did you sleep with to make that happen?"
"Yeah, well... I was very thorough." He replies bitterly; "You have your ways and I have mine, okay?"
Several miles of silence stretch between them before Hannibal asks; "So, you and Murdock?"
He nods silently, and then ignores the tug in his guts at the meaning behind his own words - wondering if he'd even still be wanted after the way things worked out. "Yeah, me and Murdock."
Hannibal lights a cigar, puffing idly as they near the cheap motel they're crashing at for the night. "What exactly was your end game there, Face? House with a white picket fence? Invisible dog, couple of kids?"
"Yeah, maybe. I don't know, all right? I just... I told him I would fix this. And I owe it to him to keep a promise."
"We are fixing this. All of us. It's time to soldier up and make things right."
A bitter laugh rattles out again and Face sighs; "You know, I don't know about you - but I'm pretty sure we're not soldiers anymore. That whole stripped of rank - sent to prison thing made it kind of clear what Uncle Sam wants."
The tires screamed down the center of the freeway as Hannibal laid on the brakes - guiding it into the shoulder before catching Face with a strong right across the jaw. "Don't you dare, we have come too far you to decide you don't care if you go down for crimes you didn't commit. You're a ranger, son. That doesn't just go away when they take your stripes."
"What do you want form me?" Face shoots back, holding his jaw. "All I want to do is go back to the way things were."
"We can't do that, but we can fix this." Hannibal sighs, waiting a long breath before he asks; "Are you in?"
"Yeah..." he replies quickly, but with a certain resignation in his voice. "Let's... let's get the boys and the plates."
