"Wake up, Face..." Hannibal's voice snapped his eyes back open right before the hard slap of his thick palm against Face's cheek.
"Fuck! I'm up, I'm up... what??" He groans loudly, pushing up on shaky arms to lean against the back of BA's seat.
"I need you to talk this guy down - I don't know what he's trying to say, but he's gonna give himself a heart attack."
Forcing himself to focus, Face shook his head - watching the inside of the chopper spin just a little bit before looking at the man still muttering a whole lot faster than he's used to. He looks the man in the eyes and mutters; "Vous pourriez parler moins vite s’il vous plaît? Tu parles anglais?"
"Non," the man shakes his head, but thankfully slows down - explaining that they were doing a report when their convoy was attacked only he and the woman had survived, and she was the only one who spoke even a little Arabic.
"Je comprends," Face mutters, and then explains that he should relax - they're in good hands and they will be met by people they can trust at the US embassy very soon. Then he turns to the girl, feeling a sinking in his guts that's got nothing to do with the choppy sway of the damaged helicopter. "Damn it. I know her."
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"Fuck! I'm up, I'm up... what??" He groans loudly, pushing up on shaky arms to lean against the back of BA's seat.
"I need you to talk this guy down - I don't know what he's trying to say, but he's gonna give himself a heart attack."
Forcing himself to focus, Face shook his head - watching the inside of the chopper spin just a little bit before looking at the man still muttering a whole lot faster than he's used to. He looks the man in the eyes and mutters; "Vous pourriez parler moins vite s’il vous plaît? Tu parles anglais?"
"Non," the man shakes his head, but thankfully slows down - explaining that they were doing a report when their convoy was attacked only he and the woman had survived, and she was the only one who spoke even a little Arabic.
"Je comprends," Face mutters, and then explains that he should relax - they're in good hands and they will be met by people they can trust at the US embassy very soon. Then he turns to the girl, feeling a sinking in his guts that's got nothing to do with the choppy sway of the damaged helicopter. "Damn it. I know her."
"You know her?" Hannibal's eyebrows knit together; "Or you've slept with her?"
"No... no. From the last Baghdad job, she was part of the press pool - I swiped her badge."