Power Play

Author: Quentillian

Rating: Mature for now, appropriate ratings to follow.

Comments: Always appreciated, good and bad.

Summary: The needed a place to lay low. For Face, what was supposed to be a relaxing retreat with a beautiful woman leads to a battle fo wills as a prisoner of Colonel Decker.

Author's Note: A/N: Special thanks goes out SSS979, Tiggertoo, and Rita for all of their contributions.

Prologue

Face felt a groan escape his lips. What the hell? Why was he on his back? The world was a blur for a moment as he waited for his eyes to focus. Blue sky sprawled out above him, enormous trees looming over him, and what? Where was he? Pain in his back; rocks.

Panic hit him suddenly, instinctively. He needed to get out of here. He couldn't remember why, but he needed to move. He forced his body to turn onto his side. His arms still felt like jello, they weren't pushing him off the ground like he wanted. Boots! Shit! Military boots right next to him. Too late to move away. The soldiers grabbed him by the arms and the dizziness hit him as they pulled him up.

The wind rushed out of him as his chest hit the nearest tree, rough bark poking through his shirt – scratching his face. The urge to fight – to pull away and run – was there, but his arms and legs weren't cooperating. Before he could wrap his head around everything that was happening, the opportunity to fight back was gone. Hands cuffed behind him, head pounding and limbs feeling only slightly less mushy. He was still completely disoriented. What the hell?

"Let's go, Lieutenant."

The words were far away. They didn't connect enough to mean anything. Someone grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him off the tree. Struggling to regain his balance, he stumbled as they shoved him. Damn it, get it together! His knees hit the dirt anyway. Those hands around his arms were the only thing that kept him upright to any degree. He shook his head to clear it. Come on! It wasn't coming together. He stared at the dirt in front of his knees, willing things to make sense again.

"Leave him for a minute."

Good, they weren't talking to him. Even better, the words made sense. He looked around at the mountain side, covered in trees. No snow this time of year. That had been one of the only reasons he'd agreed to go camping out here. Nice weather, a beautiful woman, and no Decker. The way this was working out they might have thunder showers later tonight. A side of pneumonia to top it all off. Or strep throat – that's contagious. He could cough on them and make his opportunities. Did strep throat transfer by air?

Why the hell was he thinking about strep throat? Focus, damn it! He took a couple more deep breaths.

The guards pulled on his arms. They wanted him to stand up. They could wait. He followed their gaze to the tree line. Decker. The colonel was leading a horse as he walked towards them. Horse. Face had been thrown off his horse. How had that happened? Loud, unexpected noises -that's how. The sheriff had cut him off, and in the middle of a full gallop, fired a rifle. Horses love loud noises. Bastard.

Face took a deep breath. Whatever Decker had to say to him, he didn't want to hear it. Not now. Not when his brain was still sifting through layers of fog to form a coherent thought.

He could see it. That smug, self satisfied smirk at his expense – at his failure to escape. There was nothing he could do about that now. He was stuck. With that condescending gaze glowering down on him as Decker approached. Hell no.

Face started to get his feet under him again, push himself up out of the dirt.

"He's fine." Decker's gravel voice came with a dismissing wave of the hand in Face's direction.

Like hell was he 'fine'. In the dirt on his knees, and in custody again. 'Fine' did not even begin to describe this situation. He pushed himself the rest of the way to his feet as Decker came to a stop in front of him.

"Good." Decker glared at him. "You've got a long walk back."