Separation, Anxiety

[notjustaface]

It hadn't been a particularly hard mission, at least not by comparison to some of the stunts they've managed in the last ten years, but there was one fatal point where it could fall apart. Face had approximately sixty seconds to make it from tunnel to the next - a journey that shouldn't take more than forty-five seconds - before enemy's defensive explosion went off leaving him not only trapped but pinned down and unable to escape assuming he survived the event.

An unexpected sniper cut thirty seconds off the time he had. He was four seconds too late... just behind enough the blast didn't take him out - but not out. He was trapped behind the line, and utterly fucked.

"Put her in the air, Captain." Hannibal says softly, staring at the plume of dust and debris for any sign that Face had made it through last second. There was none.

Comments

[notjustaface]

It'd be a lot easier of a decision if it wasn't their best sniper they were going in for - BA could take down any of them hand to hand and made the better choice for backup.

But all the same, he can understand the request.

"I don't think that's the right choice, this is a stealth operation..."

[notthatcrazy]

He sighs.

"You're probably right. I just..."

He trails off, unable to articulate what he's feeling.

"I just can't get left behind this time."

He's always the backup. It's not going to work now.

[notjustaface]

Pulling away from the table, Hannibal lights his cigar and sinks back into an uncomfortable chair, drawing on it several times before giving a silent half-nod.

Eventually, he asks; "Are you sure you're ready to see the worst case scenario?"

[notthatcrazy]

He gives this some serious thought.

"I can promise I'm not gonna break down while the heat's on. That's the best I can do."

[notjustaface]

He puffs a little harder, exhaling with a soft sigh.

"Is there anything I could say to dissuade you?"

[notthatcrazy]

He looks him square in the eye again.

"Probably not."

[notjustaface]

He nods again, slow and understanding.

"Get some rest, you're going to need it." He pauses, considering the severity of the operation.

"We leave at dawn."

[notthatcrazy]

"Yes sir."

He likely won't be sleeping much... or at sll, but he'll give it a shot.

"Okay if I bunk on the couch tonight?"

Sleeping in an empty bed is just... too much.

[notjustaface]

"Whatever you need to do."

He pauses, carefully considering his next words before quietly adding; "Take your medication. Please?"

[notthatcrazy]

He nods. Normally the reminder would irk him - he knows his own med schedule quite well - but it's meant well, and he has no more fight left in him tonight.

"Thanks, boss."

[notjustaface]

He really is trying to be helpful at least, not patronizing. He's just not really looking forward to seeing him come unhinged if worse comes to it.

By morning, he's silently pacing the hotel room - puffing on a cigar like a freight train strapped with a long range rifle and his sidearm and enough ammunition to take out a small army. He's not taking any chances. "BA, I want you to have the medkit ready to go. If he's still alive, he won't be in good shape." The organization they're up against isn't exactly known for their easy attitude toward intruders.

[notthatcrazy]

He'd appreciate the concern if there weren't more pressing matters occupying his mind. He's close enough to edge as it is, even with his medication.

As predicted, what little sleep he'd managed to get the previous night was hard-won. He's running on fumes as he focuses on Hannibal's instructions, trying to trust his training and abilities to carry him through the mission.

[notjustaface]

Hannibal pulls a black ski mask over his face as he slides into the front passenger seat of the jeep they acquired for the mission - passing one to Murdock too.

"We're going in dark, no flashlights - not even a match. I want to be as close to invisible as we can be. Got that?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Got it."

He's dressed for the occasion, baseball caps and garish hawaiian shirts left behind in favor of basic, concealing black. He pulls on the mask, a determined look on his face.

[notjustaface]

The drive is mostly silent, BA's normal fiddling with the radio while he's in the driver's seat subverted by the grim look on Hannibal's face. From the cave entrance it's another half mile of silence between the pair with clear alarm raised. There's not really any way of knowing if they'll find soldiers around the next bend or not.

Thankfully, if they even know about the security breech they don't seem to think it's worth guarding as nothing bigger than a rat seems interesting in slowing their trip. Just shy of the cave in, Hannibal makes a point of crouching down behind a large boulder, gesturing for Murdock to do the same. It might be the last rest they get today.

"Ready for this?" He whispers, as though either of them could be prepared for the worst.

[notthatcrazy]

He takes a deep breath. "Ready as I can be."

It's not like any of them can be sure of what they're dealing with until they're in the thick of things. He's pretty secure in his promise that he won't lose it on the spot, but beyond that... it's pretty much anyone's guess.

[notjustaface]

Steeling a deep breath, Hannibal nods before pushing back up and taking point to the site of the cave in. It doesn't look like much as been moved, but there's a decent amount of blood. Near the opening to the tunnel leading deeper toward the camp three men wearing castoff fatigues seem to amount for the majority of the blood present.

Hannibal's not sure if it's better or worse, but at least they know he wasn't there when the blast went off.

[notthatcrazy]

He tries not to think about the blood as he moves as stealthily as he can to the mouth of the tunnel. He gives Hannibal a silent nod as he gets into position, BA bringing up the rear.

[notjustaface]

As ordered, BA gets to work setting up for the extraction - under duress more likely than not.

The base is small, but the militia is well trained and getting around them isn't easy - however, the deeper they go the more of them they have to get around. Without words, he gestures to Murdock and points toward a pair of armed guards at a steel door; they'll each take one.

[notthatcrazy]

There's no turning back now, even if he wanted to.

On Hannibal's signal, they move in to take out the guards as quickly as they can. He hasn't had time to think about what's behind the door yet.

[notjustaface]

There are four more alerted when they fall, and likely more coming after that.

"Get that door open, I'll hold 'em." Hannibal barks the order, looking behind his shoulder at the lock.

"Deep breaths."

[notthatcrazy]

He nods at him, already breathing heavily. "Yes sir."

He grabs the keys from where he'd spotted them on one of the fallen guards, quickly finding the one that looks like it fits the door. It opens on two more guards, startled by their entrance. He incapacitates one with an elbow to the face and slams the other one into the nearest wall.

[notjustaface]

Hannibal is much less forgiving, taking down every guard in sight before backing into the room before shooting both guards in the chest.

"Well, either we're about to break into the best guarded armory in the country or they've got a prisoner in there." He takes a deep breath and slams the butt of his rifle against the knob before introducing his boot to the wooden door.

"Going in hot, Captain."

[notthatcrazy]

It's hardly forgiving in his eyes. He's a bundle of raw nerves and he's a little afraid of what they might see behind the door.

He gulps in a breath of air as he follows, weapon at the ready. "I got your six."

[notjustaface]

He needs it, there are only three men in the room - one of them unconcious and strapped to a chair - but seeing Face limp and battered is a crush to the gut neither of them could be ready for.

"I'll get him."