Cabin Fever Part 9 Chapter 3

Three

"Hannibal!"

Hannibal looked up at BA's yell. He exchanged a 'what now?' look with Decker who stood at his side putting canned peaches into bowls, while Hannibal opened canned vegetables.

"Keep an eye on the oven," Hannibal said, and hurried off to see what BA was yelling about. BA was meant to be on chopping duty with Murdock, Face was in the incinerator room, burning what they brought him.

Hannibal found the two of them in the office. Murdock was standing at the door between the office and the library of scientific tomes, his hands on the door frame.

"Get outta the way, fool!" BA yelled.

"No!"

"It's paper. It burns."

"It's books, you barbarian!"

"What the hell's going on?" Hannibal demanded.

"BA wants to burn the books!"

Hannibal groaned. He'd feared it would come to this, and that Murdock would be the one to object. The books were piled on the floor; their shelves already up in smoke. The temperature outside was going up all the time, a few degrees every day. But if they had no heat they'd still be dead within hours.

"You wanna freeze while we got a room fulla paper sitting there?"

"We can't burn books! Some of us are not savages!"

Hannibal stepped between them as BA surged forward.

"Okay, that's enough. BA, find something else to burn while I talk to Murdock."

BA backed off, scowling over Hannibal's shoulder at Murdock. Then he turned and stomped out of the room. Hannibal sighed and turned to Murdock.

"Murdock, I don't want to have to do it, you know that, but they could keep us warm for a long time."

"Books, Hannibal. It's just wrong." He looked miserable.

"I know," Hannibal said. "But... well think of it this way. What's in there aren't books, just copies of books. It's just paper and ink. The words inside them, they're the books and they exist elsewhere. The writer has them, the publisher, libraries, people. They're copies, Murdock, just copies."

Murdock looked thoughtful and then gave Hannibal a small smile.

"Maybe I should try to memorise -"

"Right." BA marched back into the room. He held a bundle of papers in his hands. "I found something else to burn." He held up the bundle and Hannibal saw the typed title page 'The Adventures of Captain MH Murdoch and the Spiders from Mars'. Underneath that manuscript he could see the notebook where Murdock had been writing his other book, since he'd abandoned the typewriter. The other book. The real book. The one about Captain Murdock, not Captain Murdoch.

Hannibal groaned and wanted to punch BA as the sergeant didn't just cross the line but leapt over it like a champion long jumper.

Murdock stared back at him. BA's scowl was off the scale now. Finally Murdock spoke.

"Take them," he said quietly, not moving from his position at the door.

"What?" BA said. The scowl changed to a baffled look.

"Take them," Murdock said again, resting his hands on the door frame, his back stiff against the closed door. "But you're not getting in here."

BA just stood there, apparently stymied. Hannibal guessed he'd expected Murdock to yell in protest, to try and grab the manuscripts back. He hadn't expected Murdock to face him down and now he had no idea what to do.

Hannibal looked from one man to the other and then suddenly he looked past BA. Well, talk about not being able to see something staring you in the face. He took the screwdriver he was carrying around out of his pocket, and started to unscrew the door hinges.

"I think we can spare the books for another couple of days, Sergeant," he said, glancing back over his shoulder. "Get your screwdriver out."

~~~~

Hannibal carried an armful of pieces of office door into the incinerator room and dropped the wood at Face's feet.

Face nodded, without a smile. He picked up a piece of wood, his hands protected from splinters and rough edges by his gloves. "What was all that yelling?"

"Oh just..." Hannibal paused, and then went on. "BA wanted to burn the books from the library, Murdock didn't want him to." He sighed. "Murdock got pretty upset about it."

"Upset?"

Hannibal looked at Face. It was dark in the incinerator room and only the flickering light of the furnace flames illuminated Face's worried expression.

"Well, agitated." Hannibal added.

"Damn," Face muttered. He fed the piece of wood he held into the flames.

"I can take over here if you want to go and make sure he's okay." Hannibal said. "We're all on edge, but the stress could be harder on him."

"Yeah. Yeah." Face looked at Hannibal, nodding. "Thanks, Hannibal." He hurried out of the room.

Hannibal bent down and picked up some pieces of wood. He started to feed them to the flames and as he worked he wished someone would come in here and beat the crap out of him right now.

~~~~

"Well that's it," Murdock said as he and Face walked into the kitchen, four days later. "We're officially barbarians."

"Murdock, we just burnt a couple of dozen Reader's Digests from the late 1970's, that doesn't make us the Nazis."

"Face, Murdock." Decker nodded to them. "Please sit down."

Decker, Hannibal and BA were already sitting at the kitchen table, Decker at the head of the table, Hannibal opposite him. Face and Murdock glanced at each other and sat down.

"What's this about, Decker?" Hannibal asked. "We've all got things to do."

"I won't keep us long," Decker said. "I just need to say a few things to you all. I actually already said some of this to Face. But I have to tell you all that I'm impressed with the way you've all dealt with this situation."

Murdock and BA looked at each other. Face put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together, rested his forehead on them, hiding his face. Hannibal just watched Decker impassively.

Decker paused a moment, collecting his thoughts. This wasn't easy, but he had to say what needed to be said. "The Mounties will be here any day now. Could even be tomorrow. You all know what happens then."

"We get hauled off to jail," Hannibal said.

"You know there's nothing I can do to change that," Decker said. "The Mounties will lock you up and the US will begin extradition proceedings. But I want you all to know that I take no pleasure in that."

Four months ago he'd have crowed and gloated so much he'd have sickened even himself. But that was a very long time ago now. He turned to look at Murdock.

"Captain, I can't guarantee that you will go back to the VA hospital, but I'll give a full report on what I've seen here and recommend that you are sent back there. I can see now that you have problems I never appreciated before." Murdock looked back at him, without a word, and then looked at Hannibal.

"Colonel -"

"Let the man finish." Hannibal said.

"Well, there's not much more to say. I know we're not all suddenly the best of friends now. But I have more respect for you now as a team and as individuals." Decker glanced at Face again, who still had his head down. BA looked quite uncomfortable. Murdock was biting his lip. Hannibal still wore the poker face.

"Anyway, that's all. I just wanted to have the chance to say it, before we left."

He stood up.

"Sit down, Decker," Hannibal said.

Decker hesitated and then sat again. He couldn't imagine that Hannibal was going to start talking about how they respected Decker now. After what he'd told Face in the rec room that night Decker was damn certain that Face didn't respect him.

"Decker," Hannibal said, "I appreciate that. We all do." He shook his head. "So I guess I'm real sorry I have to do this, but -"

"Hannibal." Face looked up, gave Hannibal a look Decker could only interpret as pleading. "There's got to be another way."

Hannibal frowned at Face. "Suggest one, Lieutenant." Face stared back at him. "Face, this is for Murdock, you know that."

"What are you talking about?" Decker asked. No one answered him.

"Don't I get a say then?" Murdock asked.

"No." Hannibal said. "You heard what he said. No guarantee that you will go back the VA." Hannibal looked at Decker. "A guarantee, Decker. That's what we need. A guarantee Murdock stays out of jail."

Decker looked baffled. "You know I don't have the authority to do that. All I can do it report what I've seen and -"

Hannibal cut him off with a gesture. He looked at the others again, questioning.

"Just as far as you let me go, Face." Hannibal said in a quiet voice. Face looked at Decker, then at Murdock. Murdock was glowering at Hannibal.

"Do it." Face put his head down on his hands again.

Hannibal sighed. "I'm sorry, Decker. I doubt you'll believe that. But I am."

Decker frowned as Hannibal took something from his pocket, put it on the table. It was the dictation machine that Murdock had been using to record notes for his book. Hannibal pressed the playback button and thumbed the volume up high. A voice came from the machine at once; the recording started playing in the middle of a sentence.

"...were saints over there, Rod. We all did things we're ashamed of." Face's voice, muffled, but clearly recognisable. Decker's own voice followed a second later.

"I know. And some of them I even manage to justify to myself. Some of them." There was a very long pause where they heard only hissing and a clonking sound as if something knocked against the microphone a couple of times. Then Decker's voice went on.

"There was a village."

Rushing. Blood rushing into his head. His body rushing. Chairs crashing, bodies sliding, and without even knowing how he got there Decker was on top of Face, on the floor, jammed up against the fridge. Face's nose was bloody. Decker's vision was bloody. Decker's hands were around Face's throat, Face's hands tearing at them.

BA would kill him any second, Decker knew, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't stop. All he could do was scream in his mind as he throttled the lying, scheming, treacherous devil. You seduced me! You made me think I could trust you! You made me think I could...

Decker froze at a small sound an inch from his temple. Hannibal knelt on one knee beside Decker, pointing the pistol at Decker's head. His voice was harsh, and impossible to disobey.

"Take your hands off my lieutenant, right now, Decker, or I'll blow your brains out."

Decker took his hands away from Face's throat and Face gasped and coughed, rubbing his neck. Hannibal grabbed Decker by the collar and pulled him away from Face.

"Murdock," Hannibal snapped. Murdock rushed over and helped Face up, led him to sit down at the table again. Face moaned, holding his bleeding nose.

Hannibal dragged Decker up to his feet and shoved him at BA who dragged him back over to the table, shoved him into a chair and stood behind it. "Stay there." BA growled. Hannibal put the gun away in his pocket. He straightened up the chair Decker had been sitting in and sat down at the head of the table.

Decker was trembling, his rage was unbearable. He grabbed at the edge of the table, gritted his teeth. Control! He ordered himself. Control! It didn't work. He turned a burning glare on Face. Murdock held a kitchen cloth held to Face's nose now.

"Why, Peck? Why did you do it?" Decker demanded, his voice a snarl.

It was Hannibal who answered.

"He did it because I asked him to." His voice was still cold and hard. He knows he won, Decker thought.

"Just what would you do for him?" Decker turned back to Face. Face looked away from Decker. Was that shame? Decker wondered. Was this silver tongued demon even capable of shame? "Would you whore yourself out for him? Was that the next step?"

BA's hand landed on Decker's shoulder, "Shut up." BA's voice was dangerous, but it didn't frighten Decker now. He was so far beyond fear he'd forgotten what it felt like. All that existed in his mind now was the boiling rage, the red mist. He turned to look up at BA, matching him scowl for scowl.

"You know, there are other ways to start a conversation besides 'shut up, fool', you might want to try them sometime." When BA growled Decker snorted and rushed on. "Oh of course, your alternative. Incoherent growling noise, how could I forget?"

"Er, Decker, you know you're dicing with death?" Murdock asked. Decker spun in his chair, turned the full force of the glare on Murdock.

"Dicing with death? Oh that's rich. We've done that every day living here with you. Are there any more dangerous wild animals you'd like to introduce into the house?" Murdock looked away, looked ashamed. "Install an alligator in the bathroom, perhaps? A couple of lions in the radio room? A pack of jackals -"

"Decker -" Hannibal said, but the interruption didn't stop Decker. It just sent him on round the table.

"Smith, it's a damn shame we can't convert your ego into electricity, we'd have enough power to see us through to next spring! If you didn't have us all try to walk to Alaska in our underwear that is." He smirked when Hannibal winced. "You know what you are, Smith? You're reckless. Your saving grace is that you're also lucky. But one day your luck will run out and your men will pay the price. And by the way it was me that shot you in the kennel. Obviously I'm not as lucky a man as you, because you're still here."

He turned from Hannibal's now furious expression to Face, who was staring back at him now.

"And since I'm confessing here, let me tell you that I took your dirty magazine. I put it in the goddam incinerator. I got this stupid idea that you were too good to be pimping that damn thing, that it lowered you. Seems like I was wrong. You can't get any lower and not actually be in the seventh circle of hell. Oh and on the day your oh-so-great commander gets you killed and you finally get there, you be sure pass on my regards to Judas Iscariot."

Decker paused, breathing hard. He hadn't run out of things to say, he was just getting warmed up, he just needed to catch his breath.

"And he says I have a big ego," Hannibal said, shaking his head. "Right, Decker, now you've got that off your chest, let's move on. I think you can guess what the plan is, you help us to escape, you help us to get Murdock safely back into the VA." He picked up the recorder. Decker had to resist the urge to dive across the table and tear it from Hannibal's hand. "If you don't co-operate then this recording of you confessing to a war crime becomes public property. You know that we know a couple of journalists who'd love to get their hands on it. Cost me my last cigar, which I was not happy about." He glanced at Face. "But it was worth it."

"It cost you more than that," Decker said, then looked at Face, "and it cost you..."

BA grabbed Decker's shoulder, gripped it hard as he bent down close to Decker.

"Not another word to him, sucker." This time there was enough darkness in his voice to make Decker afraid to go on.

Hannibal stood up and went to a back pack, which sat in a corner. He retrieved a book from it. The book was thick and heavy and made a loud thump when Hannibal dropped it on the table in front of Decker.

"The page is marked. Read, memorise, rehearse. If you need acting lessons I'll be happy to coach you."

Decker opened the book to the marked page. At the top a title was circled in blue Biro ink. 'Symptoms of heart attack.'

End Part Nine

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