RIP Lady Crazy

Chapter 4 - Facey Boy

When they were finally ready to set out on the mission they'd come here for in the first place, Smith, Peck and Baracus joined the rest of their road runner team outside of the base's armory.

Shouldering his sniper rifle Peck turned to Fast Eddie with a cocky smirk,

"Ready to prove you're worthy of that nickname?"

Eddie grinned as he lined up Colt magazines neatly in his webbing, "Any day, Facey Boy." He ran a quick re-loading drill, releasing the loaded cartridge from the Colt .45, whipping a fresh one from his webbing and slamming it into place almost faster than the eye could follow; the entire action was one blur of movement and clicks. He aimed the pistol at an imaginary target and grinned at Face without moving his eyes, "Those fancy new dentures of yours ain't gonna help you out here, it's all about speed and stealth; two things I got plenty of and you got none." Making sure the safety was in place, Eddie re-holstered the Colt and retrieved the magazine from the ground, placing it with the others in his webbing.

Peck smirked, "We'll see." He returned his attention to checking his own weapon, mouthing 'Facey Boy?' quizically - and distastefully - to himself.

The Colonel was waiting for them with a map of the forests around Da Nang laid out on the table in front of him, as they piled noisily into the briefing tent.

"Alright, Men," his boys snapped to attention, immediately cutting the horseplay they had gotten into between the armory and the briefing tent. "We have three days, on foot, to get into position, here." he pointed out a depression in the land on the map, near to the site of the reported anti aircraft stronghold. "Then Captain Murdock and his team will be flying their wild weasel overhead as planned. They will act as the distraction while B.A. and the Yards set their explosives around the building's stress points."

Carter frowned, "Stress points? How will we know where they are? We won't even know the building's layout until we get there."

Colonel Smith didn't even blink as he slid a building schematic across the table towards the doubting soldier. "This good enough for you, Corporal?"

Carter was the team's newest member, so could be forgiven for underestimating his new C.O.; he also had the good sense to bite back on any sharp response he may have been ready with at being put in his place. He merely nodded and waited until Smith began talking again before whispering to Eddie, "I'd heard he was good, but jeez! Where did he get those?"

Eddie hissed back, a smile on his face, "Don't ask, don't tell, dude."

Smith continued as though the interruption had never happened. "Once the explosives are all in place, we pull back and wait for the fireworks." He beamed and chomped into a fresh cigar as he asked his boys, "Any questions?"

He was answered by a collective grin and a muffled chuckle.

"Excellent. We'll have to be in close radio contact with the air crew for this one," he shot a grin at Peck, "I think you can take the cans for this one, 'Facey Boy'." His grin widened at the grimace that twisted Peck's lips at the new and unwelcome nickname.

-A-

Three days into the mission, Templeton Peck was contemplating murder.

"Dammit, Ray," he hissed, mindful of the need for stealth, "would you stop calling me that? I'm going to kill Eddie when we get back to Tay Loc."

Ray chuckled quietly, 'Face's irritation amusing him to no end. "Come on, Man, it's a great name, and you can't deny that it makes sense, you are our 'Face Man', you get the stuff we need simply by flashing your fabulous mug in the right way."

Peck muttered darkly under his breath, promising a slow and painful revenge on Fast Eddie for this injustice.

Colonel Smith, having received the visual signal from Eddie who was on point that this was the place, motioned for the four men behind him to stop. All internalised death-threats were forgotten as, silent as mice, they lowered themselves to strategic positions on the jungle floor. Peck took the radio from his bergen while the others readied their weapons. With everything prepped, they settled down to wait for the call from Murdock.

"Weasel One pilot to Weasel One bombardier, we are approaching the target; ETA: three minutes." Murdock focused intently on the banks of readings and controls of the A-10 Warthog currently speeding through the sky under his control. Personally he wasn't a fan of the Warthog, its ugly muzzle didn't really lend itself to an elegant name like the poor Lady Crazy - may she rest in pieces - and he hated flying the things. The speed was great fun but the hog handled like a whale; he had originally planned to run this Weasel in the far more maneuverable Lady, but now she was minus a wing and thoroughly out of commission he'd been landed with this beast instead. At least the monster was heavy-duty, the slippery little buggers on the ground would have a hard time shooting this bad boy down.

He flicked a switch on the communications panel, "Weasel One to Roadrunner, we are beginning our approach," he smirked into his mask, "Better be putting on your shades, Boys. I'll dazzle you with this footwork."

An exasperated acknowledgment from Peck on the ground filtered through into his headset. He flicked the channel between himself, Peck and his bombardier open, "Weasel One pilot to Weasel One bombardier, I am turning control of the aircraft over to you. Tell me where you need me, Green. Peck, watch my tail; guide me from the ground." An acknowledgment from both men and Murdock quickly rolled his neck then let his brows settle into a frown of concentration as he prepared to make this flying rapscallion dance.

The series of intricate maneuvers that followed would have made a ballerina jealous; the jet flew, looped, rolled and tumbled through some of the most stomach-lurching moves the ground crew had seen in the field. An A-10 had no right to move like that, and yet there she was, pretending to be and thoroughly convinced that she was an F-4. Missiles and gunfire rained out from the ground base but the Warthog dodged everything thrown at her, while getting in some cracking shots of her own. Peck remained completely focused on directing Murdock from the ground and didn't let the aerial acrobatics faze him lest he make a wrong call and get the fly boys killed. The others were mostly occupied watching Peck's back as he was unable to watch it himself, but every now and then one of them would cast a glance skyward and hiss in shock at what Murdock and his boys were making the brute of a plane do.

Ten minutes and some first class Baracus pyrotechnics later and it was all over; the AA stronghold was a smoking crater in the Vietnamese jungle. Colonel Smith couldn't hold back a shit-eating grin as the Warthog streaked off back towards Nha Trang, Murdock's exultant howl of victory sounding from the radio before Peck quickly shut it off. Ten minutes, that had to be a new record; just wait until the General heard about this, there'd be medals aplenty for this victory against the commie bastards.

-A-

Smith hadn't been wrong about the General's glee; he gave the two crews a week of leave in reward. The Colonel would have preferred to take a medal and go straight back to work, but after six days in the jungle his men could use a rest, so he took what was offered and ordered Face to rustle up a bus for them to take to Saigon. Murdock - having returned from Nha Trang after dropping off the Warthog - offered to fly them but the Colonel wanted to take the opportunity for the crews to bond a little, after all he would be requesting Murdock and his boys again. So they all piled into the ramshackle bus Peck had managed to 'acquire', amid grumbles from the men that the vehicle was no better than a grunt truck.

Peck was the last to board and addressed the ungrateful troops, "Well gee, Fellas, if you'd prefer to walk to Saigon I'm sure Stores can dish out some fresh boots." That earned him eight projectiles hurled at him from various points down the length of the bus, most of which he managed to dodge.

Murdock had climbed into the luggage rack and was dangling upside down from it to talk to Fast Eddie, who was explaining the recent change to Peck's status in the team, "'Face'? You called him 'Face'? Why?"

Peck shot the pilot a scowl, displeased with his shenanigans, before sitting down behind B.A. and pulling out a girly magazine from his bag.

Eddie was grinning up at his conversation partner, thoroughly amused by the very shenanigans that Peck was being so grumpy about, "You mean you haven't heard about our little Faceman?"

Murdock shook his head, he knew precious little about the cranky blond lieutenant, but since their meeting in the gym he was curious to know more.

"Face has the uncanny ability to get anything anywhere and usually at very little financial loss."

Murdock raised a pair of impressed eyebrows, then grinned from ear to ear. "Really? Care to make a little wager?" He glanced at the back of Peck's head, hoping that the lieutenant had not overheard the conversation.

Eddie smirked, he loved to wind up Peck and it seemed he'd just found a new partner in crime, "Sure, what's the bet?"

Peck's head moved slightly and Murdock lowered his voice a little, certain now that Peck had heard them talking about him. "A Cadillac. A pink Cadillac. I'll bet you a month's beer allowance that he can't get one out here."

Eddie flashed his teeth in a shark's grin, this guy really didn't know Peck, "Alright, it's a bet." He stuck out his hand for Murdock to shake.

As Murdock took the other man's hand to seal the deal, Peck spoke up without turning around, "You want a hard or soft top?"

Staring at the back of the blond head the pilot's mouth fell open and he looked at Eddie again to find the other man pissing himself with laughter.

He had the feeling he'd just lost four weeks worth of booze.

Jumping down from the luggage rack, he plopped into the seat across from Peck and tried to engage him in conversation, but the other man flat out ignored him. Chagrined at the rudeness he was being presented with Murdock pocketed his friendliness, got up from the seat and headed back to see if he could get anything out of Eddie.

Peck glanced up and watched him go with a blank expression on his face.

-A-

Arriving in Saigon in the late afternoon the boys wasted no time in enjoying their well-earned leave. Ray, Carter and Eddie headed straight for the red light district once they'd unpacked and changed into civvies, dragging Murdock's new gunner, Green, with them despite his protestations that he had a girl back home. B.A. stowed his things in his room and promptly fell asleep, the long drive from Tay Loc having tired him out, and Smith managed to sweet-talk the motel's receptionist into letting him use the phone on the front desk for a long call home.

Murdock's room was adjoined to Peck's, so once he'd slung his bag under the small bed the pilot stuck his head in his neighbour's doorway. "Hey, Peck, wanna get some food? I'm starved."

The response was cool and Peck's back remained rudely facing him as he unpacked, "No thanks, I'm not that hungry."

Murdock pouted, "Ah come on, please? It's on me, I owe you one for keeping me and Frank alive out there. Besides it's no fun eating alone."

Unseen by the taller man Peck grimaced, he really didn't want to spend any more time than was necessary with Murdock; there was something about him he just didn't trust. That said he was a little hungry despite his claim to the contrary, and if the other man wanted to save him a buck or two he'd be silly to refuse, especially when comparing captains' wages to lieutenants' . Besides, maybe he'd be able to get a better angle on this guy for the good of the team; he'd bet good money that the colonel intended to use the pilot again and Peck did not want to get caught out if he could help it. His lips pressing into an almost perfect fake smile, Peck turned to face the other man, "Alright, sure."

Murdock's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, he didn't like the way the other man's smile didn't reach his eyes. "C'mon, I spotted a great looking noodle bar just round the corner." As Peck walked past him he had to shift his body weight backwards as a shoulder-barge looked in the offing. Raising an eyebrow as Peck locked his door Murdock reminded himself to keep a close eye on this one, there was clearly something not quite right here.

Murdock wished, not for the first time, that he could read minds. Lieutenant Templeton Peck was as much an enigma to him now as he had been when they had first met. Admittedly they had only crossed paths recently, but Murdock had always, without fail, been able to get even the most tight-lipped of people to open up to him pretty quickly. It had never been a skill he was particularly fond of - having a three hundred pound marine crushing you in a bear-hug when he'd had a few too many to drink and poured out his deepest darkests on you was not an enjoyable experience - but it was one that he was now thoroughly annoyed was not working. He didn't understand the smaller man's problem; they clearly could work well together but for some reason they just didn't trust one another.

Maybe that was part of the problem: not only did Peck not trust Murdock, Murdock didn't trust Peck.

Did he trust Peck to have his back in the field?

Of course he did, he trusted every ally out here. Whether he should trust all the soldiers as much as he did and as willingly as he did was another matter entirely.

Did he trust Peck to have his back off the field?

Absolutely not.

But that didn't stop him from trying to work the guy out.

The walk to the noodle bar was tense, Murdock tried to engage Peck in conversation but the other man was having none of it. He didn't want to break out the crazy stuff he was known for on Peck just yet, even though it would be guaranteed to raise a smile. He had a feeling that Peck held as much stock in facades as he did.

Walking into the restaurant and taking a corner table Murdock couldn't take the silence any longer and blurted, "Look, Man, I'm just tryin' to be friendly, do you have a problem with me or somethin'?"

Peck, unwilling to be drawn into conversation on how he distrusted the man, smiled his best winning grin, "Sorry, Captain, the ride over wore me out, that's all. I don't have a problem with you."

Murdock cocked his head, "And the cold shoulder on the bus?"

Peck grimaced, "You were dangling from the luggage racking for most of the ride, cackling your ass off with Eddie at my expense." He folded his arms defensively. "I don't like sharing my private life with strangers."

Murdock nodded, his expression becoming serious, "Alright, I guess I asked for that one," he held up a hand, "it won't happen again, your private life is your own business."

Peck smiled faintly, a genuine one this time.

"I do have one question though." Murdock's tone was soft and low, he was about to tread on very delicate ground here and he didn't want the other man to run, "That day in the gym," Peck tensed but Murdock pushed gently onward, his voice dropping to a whisper, "what happened?" A muscle in the other man's jaw jumped hard and Murdock realised he'd pushed too far too soon; backpedaling quickly for fear of losing the tentative grasp he had on Peck's good side, he said, "I'm sorry, none of my business; it's just..."

"Just what?" Peck snapped.

Murdock hesitated a moment; continuing this line of investigation would either shut down any chance he'd ever have of getting Peck on his side, or it would be the first step towards something resembling friendship.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

He looked down at the table, away from Peck. "Just that I've seen that sort of anger before, and it ain't nothin' to do with bein' out here."

Peck scoffed and sat back in his chair, "What would you know about it? What would you know about anything? You don't know me."

No sir I sure don't "You're right, I don't know you, but I know that kind of anger. It eats at you and twists your insides but there's not a damn thing you can do about it because it's completely out of your hands." He looked up again to find Peck gazing blankly at him. All the aggravation had fallen from Peck's face, and the perfectly neutral expression he now wore was more terrifying than the anger had been. He'd touched a nerve, so he pushed onwards. "I've seen it snarling back at me in the mirror."

Peck regarded him for a long moment, until a waitress came over to take their order, mercifully cutting the tension that had pervaded the air.

Once she had gone Murdock mimicked Peck's position leaning back in his chair - distanced from the other man - and started to talk. Maybe if he opened up a little it might help to ease some of the tension between them.

"When I first learned to fly, it was at this small air cadets base back home. It was a private airfield where a handful of us had flying lessons once a week." His eyes unfocused and a faint smile quirked the corner of his mouth as he slipped into memories. "Arabella was in my class, we used to co-pilot for one another once we were allowed to go up without the instructor. We were eighteen when I left town to sign up for the Air Force; she couldn't come with me of course, so she went to Lackland to join the WAF." A shadow passed behind his eyes and he chuckled humourlessly, "She wrote to me, telling me how ridiculous she thought it was that she'd gotten her pilots license but was only ever destined for a desk if she wanted to serve her country." He paused and the wistful smile disappeared. "She always was a fire cracker."

His eyes dropped to the table top and stayed there until Peck spoke up, his own voice softer than it had been, "Go on."

Murdock sighed, he'd almost forgotten how difficult it was to relive these memories. He almost didn't go on with the story, he wasn't sure he was ready to reopen this can of worms just yet.

"Her letters had been pretty regular and they followed me into the Army, so when they stopped I got concerned." He felt a tell-tale sting in his eyes, but he kept a tight grip on his emotions; he had no intention of losing his shit in front of this guy. Opening up a little didn't subsequently mean that he had to go to pieces. "I contacted her folks; it turned out that she'd lasted exactly six months behind a desk. She quit the WAF and took a job running cargo for an exporter in San Antonio. On a run from Colombia the DC-3 she was flying broke up on landing."

He clenched his jaw hard, chomping down on the unmanly emotion that tried to break through into his eyes and onto his face.

"It wasn't fair; I was flying these beautiful, gleaming, well-maintained Sabres and she'd been reduced to wrestling World War Two planes into the sky, all because she wasn't allowed to fly with the Army." He took a deep, carefully calm breath and looked away, his gaze focusing on a distance of nothing.

Peck folded his arms on the table and leaned forward, all traces of his former anger absent and his voice soft once again, "Were you and she...?"

Murdock nodded and blinked hard, forcing back the tears that threatened at the still-raw memories. "After her death I just kind of lost it for a long time, I was so angry, at everyone, all the time. I'd go into the bar just off the base and pick a fight with the meanest looking suckers in there, knowing damn well that I'd never win the fight I was starting. I never threw down with civilians, it was always with uniforms." His eyes glittered with the rage he hadn't let anyone see since he'd joined the Army, "It just felt so good being able to beat down on a guy, even if it was only for a few seconds while his buddies got ready to pull me off him and give me the pasting I had asked for." He grit his teeth with a snarl, "It helped kill the pain."

Peck's mouth thinned, the parallel to his own loss startling him out of his comfort zone and into empathy, "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't." Murdock straightened, the mask of joviality Peck had become accustomed to slipping back into place, "You're not the only actor around here, 'Faceman'."

Peck nodded slowly, storing that little tidbit of information away for later. He still didn't know if he could trust this man, but he was beginning to understand him a little better.