Rescue Mission - It's a TRAP

[notjustaface]

Leaving Canada was about the hardest thing he'd done yet - harder still knowing that they were all flying into heavy enemy territory where not only would there be insurgents breathing down their necks there would almost certainly be a US Military ambush to capture them.

The mission itself was straightforward, two non-combatant civilians (reporters, Hannibal thinks) were captured three months before and being held in a camp a few miles outside of Baghdad. Three teams had already been sent in to extract them; two came back wounded and empty-handed, the third didn't come back at all. By Hannibal's reckoning the problem was that they were sending in too many people and taking the small compound through a single strategy - the first by air, the second full frontal, the third undercover. The real trick - and the trick to getting out of the trap - was to divide forces.

Hannibal goes in undercover, giving BA just enough time to create a nice explosive distraction for Face to set up with a sniper rifle and start taking out anyone that stands between the prisoners and the gates - no matter whose uniform they're wearing. Murdock had the most important job of all; air support. He'd have to wait undetected as close as possible before coming in and laying down enough cover to get everyone safely in the chopper before getting them the hell out of there... while being shot at.

"Think we can pull this off?" Face whispers quietly as they load magazines together in the relative privacy of their tent - less than two hours before going in.

Comments

[notjustaface]

"Get us out of here, Captain." Hannibal growls, tending to a blonde woman who seems to be unconscious as BA takes a capsule to knock himself out. "C'mon, move. They're getting out the big guns."

In the tower, Face locates the APC where they're unloading an anti-aircraft gun that makes his heart sink. "I really didn't want to have to do this..." he mutters under his breath, shifting his aim from their shoulder to the gunner's throat. "Sorry, man."

He's got to make sure the helicopter doesn't go down.

[notthatcrazy]

Inhaling sharply, he forces himself to keep his eyes on the sky as he goes through the motions of getting the Apache airborne almost by rote.

"Everyone okay back there?"

It's the closest he can come to acknowledging what's happening.

[notjustaface]

"We've got a wounded civilian." Hannibal reports back, "We need to get back to base so she can get medical attention."

Having to leave Face behind was always a possibility - and the way they're being swarmed by troops makes it a much higher possibility.

Waiting until the gunner drops from his post, Face sees the opportunity and takes it - slinging his grappling hook for the opposite tower with barely enough rope to make the gap. "Here goes nothing..." he mutters under his breath and closes his eyes before climbing up on the wall - doing his best Tarzan-like swing across the field of wounded before dropping on the opposite side of the APC and rolling on the hard ground, pain shooting through his arms and legs.

"Jesus Christ..." he groans, only closing his eyes a second before trying to scramble to his feet. If he's gonna make the chopper before they're too high to grab him he better move it.

[notthatcrazy]

Even focused on the take-off, he doesn't miss the swing. Leave it to Face...

"Come on, baby, move..." He murmurs, not even realizing that he's speaking out loud. He's trying to give him as much time as possible, but they're gonna have to move fast.

[notjustaface]

Desperate times mean desperate measures, Murdock - man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Even if it means probably a broken ankle and bruised ribs.

"Captain... get her in the air." Hannibal says sternly; "That's an order!"

Pushing himself himself as hard as he can, Face's vision is a little blurry and he feels the sting of a bullet catching his body armor and then another cutting through the outside of his thigh.

"God damn it..." he growls loudly, launching himself for the open door to catch a strong and steady hand reaching out to him.

"I got him!" BA calls back in a somewhat drugged, but no less confident voice. "Come on man, get your ass in here before I drop you."

[notthatcrazy]

He lets himself sigh in relief as BA hauls Face onboard, pushing the battered old chopper hard to get out of the danger zone as quickly as possible.

His usual exuberance is all but gone as they haul ass back to the base. He'll celebrate when they're on the ground and everyone's patched up

[notjustaface]

Panting, Face doesn't bother with strapping himself into a seat - he merely lays out on the floor beside a man jabbering excitedly in French and a pretty blonde that was just as unconscious as he'd like to be.

"I'm hit." He groans, closing his eyes with the knowledge that Hannibal is going to be on it as soon as he's got the girl stable.

Familiar hands check him over, stripping off his vest and feeling down his legs to where a patch of blood sticks the black pants to his leg. "Just a graze;" Hannibal's voice says calmly; "don't be a baby. You've had worse."

"I think my ankle's broken..." he adds, opening one eye; "and my ribs fucking hurt. Got pegged in the back."

[notthatcrazy]

He doesn't say anything, but listens as he recounts his injuries. Comparatively minor, thankfully, and he knows they could have been a lot worse. They got lucky.

It's not until he hears the quiet whispers in French that it dawns on him why the unconscious woman had looked familiar.

Holy shit, what are the odds...

[notjustaface]

"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."

"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."

[notthatcrazy]

Among other things. But he stays quiet once more, trying to coax the Apache to hold together just a little longer.

"Hang on, this might be a bit of a rough landing."

[notjustaface]

"What's wrong with her?" He asks Hannibal, ignoring the word of warning - most of Murdock's landings aren't exactly smooth when the aircraft has bits falling off it.

"I had to knock her out to get her to stop screaming." Hannibal frowned, sitting back on his knees; "That aside? They both look dehydrated, malnourished, they've had a rough few weeks."

Looking back up to the man who had gone silent, Face sighed and asked him to confirm how long they'd been there; what they had seen - anything to keep momentum going through the scary landing and forget about just how bad his leg and ribs were hurting.

[notthatcrazy]

Only fair to warn when you've got injured civilians onboard. Not to mention injured teammates, though that's honestly the least of his worries at the moment.

Finally reaching the landing site - or as close to it as they're going to get given the state of the aircraft - he sets down as carefully as he can manage. It still looks like an insane maneuver to an outside observer, but at least they're landing with almost as many parts as they took off with.

[notjustaface]

Before Hannibal can start doling out orders, a single figure in a smart pantsuit approaches the aircraft with a maglight aimed for the passenger door. Her hair's pinned up in a severe bun, but to Face she doesn't look any different than the last time he saw her.

"Charissa." He smiles slightly when Hannibal throws open the door; "You're here."

"You're bleeding," she replies nonplussed; "and you shot forty-eight of our men."

"Nice to see you too," Hannibal cuts in before the claws can come out, once more hoisting the woman over his shoulder before gesturing to the Frenchman. "I don't suppose you speak French, our translator had a bit of an incident getting out of the compound."

"Yeah, you know... that whole ambush thing..."

[notthatcrazy]

He forces himself to breathe, trying to calm himself down from the rush of adrenaline and nerves. His hands, steady on the controls in the air, are shaking pretty badly now.

"You okay, Face?" He finally asks quietly.

[notjustaface]

Looking away from her, forcing himself to look away from her as she stares him down a long moment before turning her attention to the reporters, he tilts his head back to offer Murdock a weak smile.

"I'll live. Probably need a hand getting out, though."

He wants to follow the reporters, at least to follow up on what happened - to be sure they made the right choice going in.

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah, you will."

He slips out of the cockpit to help him out, getting a shoulder under his arm to take the weight off his injured leg.

He might be holding onto him slightly tighter than strictly necessary.

[notjustaface]

Leaning against him, Face takes the opportunity to shift his weight and purposefully fall back against the side of the helicopter, pulling Murdock against him with a wild smile.

"That was crazy." He murmurs, shaking his head; "We didn't die."

[notthatcrazy]

He doesn't fight it, pressing his face against his neck to inhale the scent of sweat and gunpowder.

"Barely."

Still shaking a bit, he kisses him softly, not caring who sees. Like he said, it's not like they can kick them out again.

[notjustaface]

He's not expecting to be seen, hell the only reason he's still lucid is the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins, so he lets his hand work up against the back of his head before pulling him in for an even deeper kiss.

"God..." he moans under his breath when the kiss is broken; "Let's do it right now."

[notthatcrazy]

The spirit is willing, but the flesh could use some first aid.

"Not 'til you get those ribs looked at," he chides with a soft smile.

"Gotta keep you safe, remember?"

[notjustaface]

"Just bruised..." he groans slightly, brushing another kiss against his lips; "I was wearing a vest."

His leg, on the other hand, could probably use a few good stitches and a splint.

"I'm serious... I haven't been this excited in years..." he can't help but laugh, lacing his fingers with Murdocks.

[notthatcrazy]

"Just stay here with me a while," he sighs, unable to keep a pleading tone from his voice. He doesn't really want to let on how shaken up he is, especially in front of Hannibal.

[notjustaface]

Nodding against him, Face lets himself relax - drawing Murdock's head to his shoulder before taking off his cap to stroke through dirty curls.

"Always... hey, I jumped off a building and got shot twice to be here with you..."

[notthatcrazy]

He leans in close, kissing the side of his jaw.

"Don't remind me."

[notjustaface]

"Considering I'm probably gonna be crutching around a hotel room for the next couple weeks, I don't think either of us'll be short on reminders." Letting his voice drop to a low murmur, he turns toward him and kisses the corner of his mouth before saying; "Thanks for waiting."

A long, silent moment passes before an all-too-familiar voice says coldly; "Why am I not surprised to see you two together?"

"Uh.. Charissa..." Face's voice rises, his cheeks flushing warm as he stiffens under Murdock's weight. "It's, uh... you're... uh... you're not supposed to be out here."