AZ2 Fatal Recall

by KennaC

What really happened the day the Team robbed the Bank of Hanoi? A woman from Murdock's past may have the truth of that fateful day locked in her memory. But can the Team find the key in time to save her and Murdock - and their daughter. Usual disclaimers!

2. Part 2: Retreat: Ch 9 thru 15

Prologue to Chapter 9

"What do you mean 'you let them go?'" If Ike could have wrapped his hands around Hunt Stockwell's neck at that moment, he would have.

"You were the one who wanted to use S.A. Wilson as bait, Isaac. As it was, Lewis's target was far too convenient. Now he'll have to work for her. The farther he has to go, the more of a trail he leaves behind himself. That is how we will get him. That is your goal, correct?"

"It's my fucking op, Stockwell. You should have consulted me, first."

"But I am the one who has control of your bait, Cheney. Like it or not, we are going to do this my way."

Ike slammed the phone down. He had to get back to the fucking drawing board - again.

CHAPTER 9: Exploring the Past While Flying to the Future

"You're on your own, Murdock." Able 8, handed a stack of paperwork to the pilot. "The General just paged me. I have another job that takes priority. I got the flight plans filed with Doc here, and the pre-flight is done, so you should be ready to go."

"You're going to fly the plane?" Haley had just walked into the hangar with Sydney. Excitement pitched her voice high, and it carried clearly to where BA was busy loading baggage into the hold.

"What?" BA glared at Murdock, then turned his angry stare on his commanding officer. "I told you, Hannibal. I ain't flyin' with that fool."

"Well, this should be fun," Murdock muttered. He took the papers from Able 8. "Thanks, Jeff."

But the man's focus was behind the pilot. "Is that the amnesia lady?"

Murdock looked over his shoulder and felt the familiar tugging in his groin that accompanied any glimpse of Syd. He motioned to her and she approached the two men, Haley at her side.

"Hey, HM." Her smile was warm, and only served to quicken his heart rate. He focused on Haley, who wore a sour expression. That helped.

He indicated the Able Agent at his side. "Syd, Haley, I'd like you to meet Jeff Kent."

Jeff shot out a hand. "Sydney Wilson, it's nice to see you."

Syd shook his hand. "Have we met before?"

He absently shook Haley's hand. "Not formally. We were at Quantico at about the same time."

Sydney nodded. "I thought you looked familiar."

He smiled, the admiring gaze locked on Sydney made Murdock curious. Jeff jerked and pulled his pager off his belt. "The General. Again. I better get moving or my ass is grass. Sorry to stick you with this, Murdock."

"Not a problem." Murdock was just as glad he didn't need to worry about ditching the Able Agent.

As Jeff disappeared out the door, he turned to Syd. "He seemed to know you pretty well. You don't remember him?"

She shrugged. "I was the only woman at Quantico at the time, Captain. Everyone knew who I was."

"I hadn't considered that."

Syd's gaze turned curious. "What's wrong with BA?"

Murdock turned the direction she was looking and laughed. BA lay prone on the floor of the hangar. Face and Hannibal were just stooping to get the big man up and into the aircraft.

"We could use a hand here, Murdock," Face grunted as he lifted one large arm.

Murdock chuckled. "Ah, the big ol' mudsucker's just fine, sweetheart. Trust me, it's better if he's out cold while we're in the air." He backed toward the entrance to the jet as he addressed Face. "Sorry, compadre. Maybe Frank can help. I gotta head up to the cockpit and get ready for take-off." He turned and jogged into the aircraft.

"Um, HM," Haley called after him. "Can I come with you?

"Up to your mother, Chiquita!"

Murdock heard Haley's plaintive: "Please?" Followed by Syd's resigned: "Go ahead." He smiled. He took Haley's enthusiasm about flying as a good sign.

Unlike BA - the last thing he heard before he closed the door to the cockpit was: "C'mon, Lieutenant, put your back into it."

* * *

Haley popped into the cockpit and Murdock glanced back. "About time my copilot showed up." He grinned at her, and Haley couldn't help but grin back. "Take a seat and buckle up. I'm just waiting for final clearance. Here." He handed her a pair of head phones. "Put these on."

She slipped the headphones on, and Murdock helped her adjust them so they fit correctly. A few seconds later a voice crackled in her ears. "Empress two, cleared for takeoff on runway four."

Murdock put a hand over his microphone. "Go ahead and respond 'Empress two, positioning for takeoff on runway four, clear.'"

Haley took a deep, nervous breath. "Empress two p-positioning for takeoff on runway four . . . uh, clear."

"Good." Murdock's smile lit up his whole face as he rolled the plane a few hundred feet to the end of a runway. Haley found herself looking at him in a different light as they prepared to head into the air.

"Is that HM's daughter I hear out there?" The jovial voice of the man on the radio made Haley jump. "You get to be half the pilot your dad is, and you'll have a job here, young lady."

Murdock grimaced. "I, uh, I couldn't resist bragging about you, ju-ust a little." He held his index finger and thumb an inch apart, and squinted at her. "I hope that's OK?"

Haley nodded, a thoughtful smile on her face. "Actually . . . it's kinda cool." She glanced at him shyly, then gritted her teeth. Her desire for a father seemed to trump her good sense at times.

He blew out a pent up breath. "That's a relief."

"But don't make a habit of it." Haley looked at him narrowly, hoping he got the message. It was when he started acting like her dad that she let herself get comfortable. That just couldn't be allowed. She was glad that at least her mother had backed off. Since their talk last night, she hadn't seen HM and Sydney even touch each other.

"I'll try, but no promises." Murdock shrugged. "Take comfort in the fact that I'd treat you this way even if we weren't related."

He stopped the plane at the end of a runway and flipped a switch on the console. "Good afternoon, lady and gentlemen, this is your Captain and Copilot." He smiled at Haley. "The seat belt sign is lit, and we will be taxiing for takeoff in just a few moments. Please place your seats in the upright and locked position and strap in for the ride."

He flipped the com back off and turned toward Haley, his excitement palpable in the small space. "Ready to get this lady in the air where she belongs?"

The anticipation of heading into the sky pushed all other thoughts from her mind as Haley nodded. Twin grins split their faces as they taxied down the runway. When the wheels left the ground, Murdock let out a howl, and Haley echoed it.

* * *

Face checked the straps holding BA upright in the seat one last time before taking a seat across from Sydney, next to the windows. "That should hold him."

Syd looked over Face's shoulder at the mountain of a man. "Is there a reason you're restraining him?"

"Just in case he wakes up before we're on the ground. Makes it easier to knock him out again, if we need to." Face sat back and grinned at her. "Beside, if you value Murdock's life, that's the way it has to be."

She shook her head. "I don't remember BA being afraid to fly. I mean, you guys flew in a chopper just about everywhere you went."

Hannibal took a seat next to Sydney. "He was never quite the same after that crash that landed us in the Hanoi Hilton. He hasn't really forgiven Murdock for that one."

"I thought it wasn't Murdock's fault."

"Hell, it wasn't anyone's fault. Murdock kept that bird in the air longer than any other pilot could have." Hannibal's ice-blue eyes sparkled with pride in his pilot. "But a crash is a crash, and that one was bad."

Face glanced back as BA snorted and shifted. "You sure you gave him enough, Hannibal?"

"He'll be fine."

Murdock's voice came over the speakers. "Good afternoon, lady and gentlemen, this is your Captain and Copilot. The seat belt sign is lit, and we will be taxiing for takeoff in just a few moments. Please place your seats in the upright and locked position and strap in for the ride."

A wistful smile curved Sydney's lips, and Face snorted. "God, you two need to do it, already."

Sydney's cheeks turned pink and she kicked Face in the shin.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"For being an ass."

Hannibal laughed. "Be that as it may, I have to say that I agree with Face."

Face didn't think it was possible, but her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. She crossed her arms. "For being crude, then."

"Oh for Christ's sake, Syd. You two did it in a supply shed on a military base. If that isn't crude I don't know what is."

"Lieutenant, you are defining crude as we speak." Hannibal's tone offered a rebuke, but his grin neutralized it. Besides, Face was enjoying watching Syd squirm.

"What happened in that supply shed, aside from being absolutely none of your business, was anything but crude. HM was sweet."

"Sweet, huh? Based on the condition of the shed when you two left, it looked like it was pretty hot and heavy." Face gave her a devilish grin. "What I really want to know is: did he make your toes curl?"

"I'm not going to validate that question with an answer, Templeton."

*

Sydney turned pointedly away from the teasing Lieutenant and looked out the window as they rolled to a stop at the end of the runway. After Murdock was returned to active duty following the POW camp, she had stopped to see him at every possible opportunity. Sydney remembered their first - she smirked, make that only successful encounter - vividly. Everything about it had been so Murdock. He might not have been the most adept lover, but what he lacked in technique, he made up for in enthusiasm. She recalled her own initial reluctance when he first opened the door to the supply shed, with a key Face had lifted for him . . .

January 26, 1972

"The supply shed?" Sydney looked into the crowded, shadowy recesses of the building that was little more than a shack on the edge of base.

HM grinned and took her hand, drawing her closer. "There's a cot in the back, where the supply sarge catches z's when the commander isn't watching." He leaned down and nibbled at her ear. "C'mon, sweetheart. Lewis'll ne'er find us here."

Sydney's breath quickened at the sound of his Texas drawl. She knew when he allowed his accent to thicken he was aroused. That knowledge and the feel of his lips erased the last of her inhibitions about the setting.

He traced a blazing path from her ear to her mouth, and she allowed herself to be maneuvered back into the shed. HM stepped away long enough to pull the door shut and lock it. Then he turned his attention back to her. His long arms encircled her and pulled her against him while his tongue probed her mouth eagerly. She could feel his penis straining against her and it stoked the coals of her own desire into a flame that licked along every nerve.

Bodies molded into one, they moved toward the rear of the nearly pitch-black shed. They made it several feet before they stumbled over something on the floor, and fell into a shelf, setting off an avalanche of shoes.

HM looked at Sydney. "Well, now, that was real slick." They both burst into laughter.

Sydney tried to look on the bright side. "At least it wasn't ammo, or something heavy."

"Small favors."

Eyes finally adjusted to the dark, HM took her hand and they picked their way through the pile of shoes, along a narrow aisle, to the rear of the shed. "Alrighty, I think the coast is clear back here. Your bed, ma-dam." He indicated the little cot with a flourish that set Sydney to giggling again. There was no way that little cot qualified as a bed. It was a scant 6 feet long, and she sized HM against it with a doubtful eye.

His eyes narrowed, though a lift to the corner of his generous mouth indicated his own amusement at the situation. "Are you laughing at me, or with me?"

"Does it matter?"

"Smart ass." He tipped his head and appraised her with a lustful gaze. "Actually, it's a very nice ass." He pulled her back into his arms and cupped her butt, his long fingers probing tantalizingly between her legs, obliterating all further cautionary thoughts from her mind. She tipped her head back, and he accepted the invitation, placing his hungry mouth at the hollow of her throat before venturing down her sternum.

With his other hand he fumbled with the buttons on her shirt, popping the first one off in his haste. "Oops."

Sydney chuckled and reached up to help him with the rest, letting her shirt slide to the floor, followed quickly by her bra. She found the bottom of his t-shirt and interrupted his fervent caresses long enough to pull it up over his head and deposit it on the floor with her clothing. She ran her hands up his chest, thrilling at stiff nipples she encountered on her way to tangle her hands in his hair. Their lips locked together, and for several long moments they reveled in the intimacy of the kiss, tongues probing, tasting, savoring.

HM pulled back, his breath ragged. "If Lewis shows up right now, I swear to God I'll shoot him."

Sydney knew the feeling. They hadn't quite gotten to this point the last time they were together, when Lew showed up and dragged her away. The frustration of that moment lent an urgency to this one. She pulled his head down and kissed him. "I don't want to talk about Lewis."

He managed to get her pants unhooked, and Sydney gasped as his hands slid along her hips, pushing both pants and panties down her legs, while he kissed his way down to her stomach. There he lingered, his tongue tracing teasing patterns below her belly button.

Having reached the floor with her clothing, his hands made a return journey up her legs, slowing as they neared her hips. His thumbs slid inward and teased her apart so he could flick her clit with his tongue. She groaned and he responded by closing his lips and sucking. Her entire body stiffened with the need for release.

She clutched his head and pushed him away, struggling for control. He stood, uncertain until she reached forward and tugged at his belt. She was desperate to have him inside of her. He undid his pants and discarded them in one fluid movement; then gathered her to him, their bodies pressed together as they moved toward the cot. HM loosened his hold enough to lower her to the cot, but it was in a space barely larger than it was, and not nearly long enough for his lanky form. When he lowered his body over hers, his foot collided with folded blankets, stacked at the foot of the cot, reaching nearly to the ceiling. They were buried in another avalanche, this time of army-green wool.

"Shit." HM pushed the blankets onto the floor and shifted, but even with extra room, couldn't seem to wedge himself into position.

Sydney lay spread-eagle on the cot, giggling uncontrollably. "Maybe we should forego the cot," she suggested.

He looked down at her and growled. "I'm sorry, sugar. I just can't seem to get this right."

Sydney smiled at him and slid herself onto the blankets, now covering the floor. "I beg to differ, my dear Captain."

She pulled him down onto her, his weight rekindling her desire quickly. She wrapped her legs around his as he slid into her. He shifted to plunge deeper, and her entire body shuddered. He withdrew and plunged into her again, and she clutched his firm butt, grinding her hips against his, her need for him obliterating all reason. She could feel him growing inside her, as they both approached the precipice. One more thrust, and the orgasm began to ripple through her body. She felt HM's simultaneous release as an echo of her own, turning the ripples of pleasure into crashing waves that left her breathless.

The jet began its forward roll, shaking Sydney from the daydream. She felt flushed, and the feeling intensified when the throbbing of the engines began pushing the aircraft down the runway. The landscape flashed by, faster and faster until the wheels left the ground, accompanied by an exultant howl from the front of the aircraft, a stirring echo from that long-ago night in the supply shed.

The jet took to the sky gracefully under the skilled hands of the pilot at her helm. Sydney smiled as she watched the earth recede below her. The thought of those hands on her body was enough to take her close to the edge of reason just sitting here. She sighed, and leaned her head against the cool window.

She'd never tell Face, but he was definitely right.

"Did you make the course adjustments we talked about, Captain?" Hannibal was bent over in the cockpit door.

"Yep. Doc took care of it for me. ETA 0900, local."

"Good. I'm having everyone flake out for the flight, so we're rested. I want us to be sharp en route from the air field to the ranch."

"I'll get you to Portland. After that, it's up to you guys. I'm just the pilot."

"You've never been 'just the pilot,' Murdock. I'll see you when we land." The door closed behind Hannibal.

"Portland? Oregon?" Haley looked at Murdock. "I thought we were going to California."

"That was just a decoy. As soon as Hannibal said we were headed to Crystal Lake for the relaxing atmosphere, we knew he had something up his sleeve. The last time we went there it was anything but relaxing."

"Where are we going?" Haley's voice was an octave higher then usual.

Murdock put a hand on her arm. "Hey, it's OK. We'll be safer where we're going, and this way the General will have a harder time tracking us down."

"Where are we going?"

"We own a ranch, or sorts, out near Breitenbush . . . well, kind of near Breitenbush." Murdock shrugged and smiled. "It's real pretty out there, and secluded. There's a mountain lake and –"

Haley felt her heart rate increase. "How secluded?"

"We have 50 acres situated in the Cascades. Breitenbush is . . . a close town, mmmm maybe not the closest – well really there's nothing much close. It's basically in the middle of nowhere, which is what we wanted. I think Face has it incorporated under some shell company, which makes it pretty much impossible to track back to any of us, individually. He's good at that sort of thing."

Haley turned away from him and looked out the window. She wondered if Jerry would be able to track them there. But what confused her was that she wasn't sure she wanted him to. It sounded frightening to be secluded with the bad guys; but it was equally as scary to be secluded with the good guys only to be found by the bad guys.

She sighed in frustration as she tucked her hands into the pocket of her hoodie and fingered the phone.

* * *

Face looked up as Hannibal returned to his seat. "All set?"

"Murdock says we'll get to Portland around 0900. Amy got Richter, right?"

"She arranged to pick him up and head to the ranch this morning. She should get there around dinner time."

"I sure am glad she's back from Jakarta," Hannibal said. "Never could figure out why she'd want to go there in the first place."

Face glanced away, afraid Hannibal would see the guilt in his eyes. He'd been surprised when Amy answered the phone yesterday and actually spoke to him. Though she called and spoke to Murdock frequently, she had been stubbornly silent to him.

He raised his eyes to find Sydney gazing at him, a smirk on her face. "Woman trouble, Face?"

Face gritted his teeth. Syd was irritatingly good at reading him. It had fascinated him when they first met, but had quickly become a source of irritation for the conman in him. He was supposed to be able to fool everyone. "No trouble . . . except maybe you."

"All you had to say was you didn't want to talk about it." Sydney pouted, but her blue eyes held a teasing glint. "Besides, I was never your problem."

"The hell you weren't." Face straightened. "Murdock's woman troubles ended up being the whole Team's troubles."

"You are full of it."

Face turned to face Sydney. "Oh, yeah? Let's take the night in the supply shed, as a case in point." Face noted Sydney's blush as he ticked off points on his fingers. "I had to make the arrangements to have the sergeant out of commission for the night; I had to lift the key; then I helped Ray coordinate the diversions so the two of you wouldn't be interrupted, which was a hell of a trick since Lew chose that night to have insomnia. Then the next day, not only did I have to clean up the mess you left in the shed, but I had Murdock pestering me to find him an engagement ring – in the middle of freaking Vietnam, he expects me to come up with a diamond ring."

Sydney's eyes went wide, and Face recognized his mistake.

"Excuse me." She choked, stumbling between the seats and hurrying back to the restroom.

"What's wrong with her?" Frankie asked.

"Good going, Face." Hannibal said.

"I didn't even think about it. Shit."

"She didn't know Murdock was going to propose?" Frankie looked at Face in alarm.

"How could she have known? They didn't see each other after that night." Hannibal motioned to the bathroom. "You better go talk to her, Face."

"You should go talk to her." Face looked at Hannibal in desperation. "She looks up to you like a . . . a father figure."

"Well one of you needs to go talk to her," Frankie said.

"Ray was her father figure, not me. Get your ass over there and talk to her, Lieutenant. It's not a request."

Face sighed as he stood up. "What do I say?"

"Honestly, she needs a good cry," Hannibal said. "Her indifference up until now has concerned me. I also think it's a good idea for her be aware of what we do and do not know about what happened to Murdock at the end of the war."

"That's an awful tall order, Hannibal. Why don't I just give her a blow by blow of the first couple years after the war. Murdock was a fucking mess. You think she needs to know all of that?"

"A blow by blow is probably overkill. I'd keep it to the bare necessities for now."

Hannibal's matter-of-fact tone was beginning to piss Face off. "Why don't you go talk to her, then?"

"I was always the commanding officer that she and Murdock avoided. She'll be more likely to open up and talk with you than with me."

"Fine, but I still don't have a clue what to say."

"You'll think of something, Lieutenant. I have faith in you." Hannibal gave Face an encouraging smile.

Face scowled in response, but did head back to the bathroom.

He knocked on the door. "Uh, Syd, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." The strangled sound of her voice belied the words.

"Syd, I'm sorry." Face leaned his head against the door. "I should think before I open my mouth."

The door opened and Face stepped back. Sydney leaned in the doorway, nose pink, eyes red-rimmed. At least for the moment she appeared to be in marginal control of her emotions. "He honestly wanted you to get him an engagement ring?"

"He was head over heels in love with you, even before that night." Face smiled, remembering Murdock's insistence. "It was all I could do to hold him off until then."

She closed her eyes, her struggle for control allowing only a single tear to slip down her cheek. "He was always so damned impulsive."

"Isn't that part of his charm?"

Syd opened her eyes and swiped at her cheek. "Yes. That and his insistent optimism."

Face pursed his lips. "Only when you were around, Syd. You were the only thing that made the end of the war tolerable for Murdock." Face took a deep breath, knowing this was going to be hard for Sydney to hear. "When he lost you, or thought he lost you . . . that was when he lost himself. It was a couple years after the war before we even considered taking him out of the VA. He was just too unstable."

Syd's face crumpled, and he pulled her into a brotherly embrace as sobs racked her petite frame.

He held her until the tears subsided, and she pulled away with a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I'm no shrink, but even I know you need a release, Syd. No one can ride an emotional rollercoaster like you've ridden in the last 24 hours and not let loose. You keep telling Murdock and Haley to give each other a break. How about doing the same for yourself?"

She leaned into the bathroom and grabbed tissues. "You're right." She dried her face and blew her nose. "It probably doesn't help that I didn't sleep much last night."

"I'm sure that's it." Face gave her a doubtful look.

Sydney smiled. "I'm kind of a mess, huh?"

Face shrugged. "Considering the circumstances, I think you're pretty amazing."

She laughed. "Amazingly thick, at any rate." She looked up at Face, her head tilted to the side. "I do have one question, just out of curiosity."

"Shoot," Face said.

"Did you get him the ring?"

He grinned. "What do you think?"

"How did you and Mom meet?"

Murdock leaned back and considered the girl next to him. Her distress at their change in destination seemed to have abated, and she had taken to quizzing him relentlessly about his past. She insisted on details about his indoctrination into the Team, and what they did during the war. Now she was moving onto his relationship with Sydney. He had anticipated the questions about that topic, but it didn't make the answers any easier. His introduction to and courtship of her mother was anything but traditional.

"Well, that depends. Do you mean when I met her as Sydney Wilson of Chicago, or when I met her as Sheila Downey of Dallas?"

"Oh, yeah. Mom was investigating you for drug running, right?" Haley met his gaze with narrowed eyes. "So, did you do it?'

Murdock opened his mouth and closed it without making a sound. "When I met your mother I was not running drugs."

"And before you met her?"

"Not right before."

"Are you a habitual liar?"

Murdock eyes widened in innocence. "I have not spoken one untrue word to you since I've known you."

"A whole . . ." Haley looked at her watch. "16 hours of honesty. Is that a record for you?"

He clutched at his heart. "You wound me to the quick, me lady."

"Did anyone ever tell you you're weird?"

"Never."

"That's a lie."

"No-o-o-o." Murdock grinned at her, enjoying the word game. "That was sarcasm."

Haley shook her head and crossed her arms. "You aren't going to puke out on the honesty pact, are you?"

"I didn't think it applied to me anymore, since you aren't sure I'm part of the family." Murdock turned questioning eyes on her.

"Regardless, you promised." Haley gazed at him unblinking.

"I did." He returned the look, marveling at how grown-up she sounded. "The honesty pact stands."

Haley nodded in acceptance. "Alright, so when did you meet Mom as Sydney Wilson?"

"You know, I think it's my turn to ask you a question."

"Fine."

"Let's see. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"I've only been in McLean for a couple weeks."

"That isn't an answer." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"I am very glad to hear that."

Haley gave him a severe look, and he raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry. I can't seem to help myself."

"My turn. When did you meet Mom as Sydney Wilson?"

Murdock chuckled. "Actually, Face found out who she wasn't. So we took her out and . . ." He glanced at Haley, as awareness dawned that Sydney might not appreciate him sharing this particular story with her 14-year-old daughter. "Um, we, hmmm . . ."

"You got her drunk."

Murdock looked at her narrowly. "How did you know that?"

"I'm 14 – not stupid."

"No, definitely not." Murdock marveled at how observant and sharp she was for a young teenager. He wondered if that was typical.

"OK, then when did you start dating her?"

Murdock shook his head. There were no straightforward answers to questions like that. Not when it came to him and Sydney. "Are we talking actual, mutual dating, or me fawning after her like a lovesick puppy? There's a difference. She was pretty stubborn about the whole thing."

*

Haley's eyes went wide with surprise. "Mom didn't want to date you?" Maybe Jerry was right.

"It's complicated, Haley." He sighed, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Syd and I were friends – really good friends. But I wanted something more. Unfortunately, there was this rule about military and support groups fraternizing. A lot of guys didn't pay any attention to it, and the officers usually looked the other way, but that was generally with nurses. Your mom was an intelligence agent, which was really taboo, not to mention unusual, and I was an officer. She said I should set an example. She reminded me of it frequently, in fact."

"Yeah, she's good at rules." Haley looked up at him. "So what made her change her mind?"

Murdock stared out the window, silent long enough that Haley thought he wasn't going to answer. When he finally turned to her, his eyes – which usually sparkled with mischief and were definitely one of his best features – were flat and empty. The gaze sent a shiver of apprehension up her spine as she strained to hear his response. "Things changed after the POW camp."

"The what?"

He seemed uncomfortable meeting her gaze. "We spent a few weeks as guests at the Hanoi Hilton."

"A hotel?" The smirk on his face intensified Haley's feeling of dread rather than alleviating it.

"No, sweetheart. We were guests of the North Vietnamese Army. The Hanoi Hilton was a prisoner of war camp. No amenities." He shook his head, and when he turned back to her, his gaze was intense. "I can't talk about it, Haley, especially with you. Suffice it to say, I was pretty messed up after the camp. Syd helped me deal."

Haley's curiosity wouldn't allow her to let the topic go. "So, after . . . the camp, how did she help?"

"Syd was the only person I would communicate with at first." He grunted in humorless amusement. "Lew wasn't thrilled about it, but Morrison made him back off. The base shrink told Hannibal that if he didn't want me discharged on a Section 8, they better make time for me to spend with Sydney, so that's what happened; whether Lewis, and Hannibal liked it or not."

"Lewis." Haley dug through the disjointed conversations that she had overheard over the last day. "He was . . . Mom's partner, right? You didn't like him, did you?"

Murdock shrugged. "Lew was OK, I guess. Maybe I was just jealous of the fact that he got to spend more time with your mom than I did. I seriously considered transferring back to the CIA."

"You worked for the CIA?"

His jaw clenched, and Haley got the impression that he was sorry he had mentioned it. His response was sufficiently vague to peak her curiosity. "Once or twice."

The revelations kept getting further and further from the fantasy she had in her mind, though she had to admit, Murdock was actually way more interesting than she had first thought.

He grinned at her, his eyes regaining some of their usual sparkle. "Now it's my turn."

Haley groaned. "Fine, but only one question."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"Like Mom says: life isn't always fair." Murdock laughed, and Haley decided maybe she was wrong about him not being handsome. She hoped Jerry was wrong about him, too.

After all, people weren't always what they seemed.

Prologue to Chapter 10

Lewis had been sitting here for several hours, his irritation mounting. Dr. Ricther had not been home when he arrived in L.A. early this morning. He waited until the receptionist arrived, then headed to the nearest telephone booth and dialed. The receptionist answered on the first ring, out of breath. "Dr. Allen Ricther's office. This is Jean. How can I help you?"

"Hello. This is Ron Gunn. I have an appointment with Dr. Richter this afternoon, but I was hoping to talk to him, as I won't be able to make it." Ron Gunn was the first appointment this afternoon in Richter's appointment book. In fact, Richter's schedule had been full today. So where was the good doctor?

"I'm sorry, sir. In fact, I was going to call you to cancel your appointment today. Dr. Richter took an unexpected trip out of town, and won't be returning for a few days.

"But I have to talk to him – now!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that's impossible. If you would like, you can call Dr. Saunders, who will be handling any emergencies while Dr. Richter is away."

"No! I must speak to Dr. Richter. Can you tell me where he's gone?"

"No, sir, I can't. I really don't know."

Lewis took a deep breath. "Fine, have Dr. Saunders call me." He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.

Lewis dropped into his rental car and pounded a fist on the steering wheel. Haley said they were headed for Crystal Lake, near LA. They had to be in the area somewhere.

CHAPTER 10: Breathless in Breitenbush

"You guys are dead." BA glowered at no one in particular. He had awakened just as they made the last turn off the county road onto a nearly invisible, rough-cut drive that led to the main house on the Team's ranch in Oregon.

"Oh, lighten up, BA," Murdock said from the back seat, where he sat with Frankie and Haley. "In spite of your lack of faith in me, I managed to fly us all the way across the country without crashing even once."

"You're lucky, fool. If we'd have crashed I woulda had to kill you."

"If I had a dime for every time you threatened to kill me, I'd be a rich man, BA."

"If you'd learn how to fly a plane, mebe I wouldn't have to threaten you."

"If you'd get over your acrophobia, we wouldn't have to knock you out every time we have to head in to the great blue yonder, ya big, mudsucking baby!"

Face heaved an exaggerated sigh, "Isn't that your cue, Hannibal?"

"Cool it you two."

The house came into view over the next rise, just as the woods they were driving through gave way to a rocky landscape. Sydney sat up. The house was a huge, two-story shingle-style home sitting on a mid-slope outcrop. An enclosed front deck spanned the front, and adjoined varying levels of open decks circling the sides of the house. Two towers peaked above the front gable, and Sydney could see upper-level decks as well. Everything was designed to allow optimum viewing of the gorgeous mountain setting, at least down-slope. Behind the house, a cliff rose above then angled away to a peak close to a hundred feet higher than the roof of the house. "How many bedrooms?"

"Enough so we can each have our own space." Hannibal grinned. "Except the bickering brothers. They get to bunk together as punishment."

Murdock mocked BA's responding growl.

Hannibal clapped his hands together as Face brought the van to a stop. "Let's get everything unloaded and settle in. We'll skip lunch and plan on an early dinner."

Sydney put the last of her clothes away in the bedroom she had selected. It was adjoined to Haley's in a mini-suite via the bathroom/dressing room. Located on the north side of the house, it had a large picture window with a spectacular view of the mountain lake located just half a mile down-slope from the house. Woods surrounded the rocky outcrop that house and lake shared, surrounding them like a natural fence. She couldn't imagine ever wanting to leave this place. It was like a slice of heaven on earth.

Haley lounged in the doorway to the bathroom. "I think you just suffer from Florence Nightingale syndrome. You fell for HM because he was sick, and you nursed him back to health."

"Where in the hell do you get these ideas?" Sydney sighed. "I do not suffer from Florence Nightingale syndrome. Honestly, Haley. You truly are reading far too much Harlequin. Why can't you just accept the fact that I fell in love with him?"

"HM said you were just friends until he came back from the POW camp."

Sydney turned troubled eyes on her daughter. "He talked to you about the POW camp?"

"Kind of . . . well, not really. He just told me they were there. He said you helped him recover afterward. Though I don't know what from." Haley pursed her lips in thought. "Was he hurt like you were hurt?"

Sydney considered the question, weighing how to respond. As Haley got older, Dr. Asher had encouraged her to be open with her daughter when she asked questions about what had happened to her, so she always tried to answer with the truth as she knew it. Subsequently, over time, Haley had developed a fairly clear understanding of the injuries she sustained at the end of the war. Perhaps that would be a good place to start with the explanation.

"Sort of. You see, Haley, what happened to me was a one time event, perhaps more intense, but only for a short time. HM and the rest of the Team endured it for weeks, repeatedly. Do you remember when we did the research on torture techniques, when you were doing that paper on Vietnam?"

Haley nodded.

"Well, imagine being subjected to that for several weeks in a row, day after day, with no medical attention in between, and precious little food to sustain you. And remember, there are mental as well as physical aspects to torture. They lived with that for weeks."

"How did they get away?"

Sydney shrugged. "Hannibal earned his nickname, sweetheart. In the end, the escape was probably the easy part. Even more amazing was that the entire unit made it back to base alive."

"But why would your feelings for HM change when they got back if it wasn't Florence Nightingale syndrome?"

"My feelings didn't change."

"But HM said you wouldn't date him until after –"

"Yes, that's true. But what changed was my own resolve about not taking our relationship any further than friendship. I kept telling myself that I was too young for a serious relationship. But I think what I was really afraid of was getting too . . . attached. I didn't want to deal with the emotional ramifications if he was killed – which was a likelihood every time he took off."

Sydney took a deep breath. "His time at the POW camp made me realize how foolish that rationale was. I was already attached. I could tell myself and everyone around me that we were just friends, but I realized that it didn't matter. Once my brain accepted the inevitable, it seemed silly to avoid any deeper attachment. If I was honest with myself, I was already in love with him."

Haley slouched in the doorway. "You're certain there was nobody else? Someone that maybe you don't remember?"

"No one." Sydney walked over and stood in front of her daughter. "Why?"

Haley shrugged. "I just want to know if he is my father."

Sydney sighed. "My heart tells me he is, but –" She stopped, unsure if this was the right time.

"But, what?"

Sydney took her daughter's hands and drew her to the bed to sit. "Haley, I truly think that HM is your father, but I think you should know that he wasn't the only man I had intercourse with in that time frame."

Haley's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

"I read my early file last night. Dr. Asher never told me, but the medical records from Laos indicate that I . . . had been raped."

"Oh my God. Raped? You mean my father might have been a rapist?"

"I really doubt it, honey, but it's possible."

Murdock cleared his throat, and Haley and Sydney both looked up at him. "Are you two settled in?"

Haley looked at her mother and, for the second time since she had met Murdock, asked, "Does he know?"

"I do now," Murdock said. "Does it really matter?"

A relieved smile appeared on Sydney's face. "No, it doesn't."

Haley shot off the bed. "Of course it matters. He might not be my father." She pointed at Murdock, her tone accusing. "Even worse, my father might be some scumbag rapist? It matters a lot!"

Murdock moved into the room. "Why is it so important to you, Haley? I'd gladly take the title. All you have to do is say the word."

"Don't you understand? I've wondered who I am all my life. I want to know who my father is."

"You may not like what you find out," Sydney said quietly.

"I would at least like to know whether HM is my father or not. Isn't there some test or something they can do to figure that out?"

Murdock crossed his arms. "We could have a paternity test run."

"Just like that?" Haley's gaze was distrustful.

"It's a reasonable request. I'll talk to Hannibal. I'm sure Maggie Sullivan would take the necessary samples and run the test if asked." Murdock tilted his head. "I'm still not sure I understand why it's so important to you, but if it is, then it's important to me, too."

Haley hesitated, but her face cleared. "Thanks, HM. Really." She turned abruptly and disappeared through the adjoining bathroom/dressing room. She glanced back at them briefly, before closing the door, effectively ending the discussion.

Sydney stood and moved to his side. "What if you aren't her father, HM?"

"I guess we'll cross that bridge if we come to it." He flashed her a teasing smile. "Besides, I figure my chances are pretty good. I had a lot of little soldiers swimming for me after that night in the supply shed."

"That you did." Sydney smiled, and their eyes locked and held for several long seconds. Murdock was the one who broke the contact, glancing uncertainly at Haley's closed door. "I should . . . go." He leaned down and gave her a light kiss, before striding out the door.

Sydney drew a deep, frustrated breath. She picked up a book she had found on the book shelf, and headed out to the deck to see if she could lose herself in the story and the scenery.

Murdock put another load of wood into the rack and hung his jacket up on one of the hooks by the door. The vigorous exercise of chopping wood had helped abate his frustrations somewhat. "That should hold us for tonight, Colonel. I don't think we'll need it today. It's warming up out there."

"Great, Murdock." Hannibal stowed the last of the groceries into the pantry. "Haley came down while you were out chopping wood, and I sent her down to the lake with Face and Frankie. If we're lucky they'll catch enough fish for dinner."

"Sounds good."

"And I reached Maggie. She's coming out tonight, after she closes up shop. She said the paternity testing was no problem, but that it could take up to six weeks to get the results."

Murdock nodded. "Hopefully Haley can be patient."

"I think that's highly unlikely, but it's the best we can do."

Hannibal unlocked the gun cabinet and pulled out two weapons. "I'm gonna grab BA and do a thorough recon of our perimeter to check our defenses. That leaves you and Syd to hold down the fort, here, and maybe get a start on dinner. The rest of us will probably be gone for a couple hours, anyway." Hannibal gave him a broad wink, and then disappeared out the kitchen door.

Murdock stared after his commanding officer in consternation and debated whether he should do as Hannibal inferred. He was worried about how Haley would react, but he knew Hannibal's over-riding concern was Murdock's own lack of focus.

He considered going out to get more wood, but the wood rack was already full. He checked the kitchen to see if anything remained to be put away, and thought about starting dinner, but a glance at the clock told him it was far too early for that. He roamed the other rooms on the main floor, seeking an adequate distraction, but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and his meandering eventually carried him upstairs. He froze in the doorway to Sydney's room as she walked out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam wearing nothing but a towel. His involuntary reaction was immediate.

She noticed him standing in the doorway. "Hey. It's awful quiet in here. Where is everyone?"

It took a few moments for her words to filter through the thunder of the blood rushing through his veins. "Uh, Hannibal and BA are doing a perimeter check; and Frankie and Face took Haley down to the lake to go fishing."

Sydney's smile was a seductive invitation. "So what you're telling me is that we have the whole house to ourselves." Her words shot through him like an electric shock that short-circuited his entire body. All he could do was nod.

She walked to him and took his hand to draw him into the bedroom, then closed the door. She faced him, only inches away, and let her towel slip to the floor. Her blue eyes seemed impossibly large in a square face softened by honey-colored hair that cascaded over her shoulders, just brushing the swell of her breasts. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

"HM?" Sydney's voice seemed to come from far away. He shook his head.

"It –" He swallowed, trying to un-stick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "It just seems a shame to end the anticipation."

Her responding smile was sympathetic. She stood on her tip toes, hands on his shoulders for support, and placed a feather-light kiss on his lips. "I know exactly how you feel." Her murmur had a breathless quality that intensified his desire. "But I think it's time to indulge."

Time seemed to suspend as he stared into her eyes, their breath mingling. He lifted his hands to her waist, sliding one around to the small of her back, and the other up to cradle her head, savoring the silky warm smoothness of her skin and blow-dried hair as he pulled her to him and claimed her lips in a ravenous kiss. Their tongues played a game of feint and parry, exploring deeply and thoroughly.

He ventured from her mouth, to drop kisses along her jaw, and down her neck, until he reached the smooth sweetness of her breast, the taste and smell of her, familiar and yet new, was arousing all of his senses. He dipped lower and used his tongue to trace reducing circles on her firm breast until he reached her nipple, clenching it gently between his teeth and running his tongue over the tip, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from Sydney.

She put her hands on his shoulders and pulled away, causing him to look up at her curiously. Her lips were parted in a breathless smile. "I need to slow down, and you need to catch up."

He felt her fingers graze the skin of his stomach as she curled them under the hem of his t-shirt and lifted it over his head, discarding it with her towel on the floor. She also made short work of his khakis and underwear. Once all obstacles had been removed, he wrapped his arms around her, molding their bodies together. They clung to one another in an attempt to satisfy a mutual and overwhelming desire to be close. They moved in a slow dance to the bed, where Murdock had no choice but to let her go, but only briefly.

She lay down on the bed, and pulled him down after her. He lowered himself between her legs, aiming high to allow the length of his throbbing penis to slide along her sensitive crevice. Her moan of pleasure was almost too much, and he had to stop and take a calming breath to regain some semblance of control. Then he lowered his lips to one erect nipple, again teasing the tip with his tongue, while he rubbed the other between his fingers. She arched her back, grinding her pelvis against him. Her writhing eroded what little control he had left.

He drew back, and plunged into her warm, moist depths. His need exploded, as he drew back and plunged again, and again, until she clutched at him, her legs widening as she pulled him deep inside of her, shuddering with her own release. Her fingers slid up his back, pulling him down to remove all space between them – their bodies becoming one. With each pulse of his orgasm, he felt a responding pulse from Sydney's body, amplifying his pleasure with her own.

As the orgasm ebbed, they relaxed in one another's arms, sated – at least for the moment. For several minutes they lay locked together while their respiration returned to normal.

Murdock propped himself up on an elbow. "Wow."

A languid smile curved her lips. "I'll second that."

She pulled him back down and their lips met in an undemanding kiss. Murdock buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in the heady musk of their love-making mingled with the lavender scent of her hair. He flicked his tongue out, tasting the saltiness of the sweat on her smooth skin. He felt his need growing again.

Her throaty chuckle prompted him to lift his head and look into her sparkling blue eyes. "Ready for an encore already?"

He smiled and quirked an eyebrow. "I'm up for several curtain calls, sugar."

Sydney searched his face, her gaze half-teasing, half-serious. "Is that a promise, Captain?" The timbre of her voice accelerated Murdock's heart.

"Absolutely."

And the first encore began.

"I don't think I've ever been this relaxed." Murdock lay stretched out on his back his arm wrapped around Sydney, their legs intertwined.

Sydney fingered the coarse hair on his chest. "Never?" She leaned up and looked at him.

"Did you know you are gorgeous?"

Sydney chuckled, and swung a leg over him to sit up, straddling his hips. "So, does that mean you're up for one more round?" She slid herself up and down slowly, eliciting the desired response.

"You're gonna wear me out, sugar."

"I'm in my sexual prime, Captain. You are going to be able to keep up, aren't you?" She cocked a teasing eyebrow.

"I'll do my best." He reached his hands around to cup her butt, amazed that he was already erect given the continuous exercise of the last hour or so.

Sydney's attention had been diverted. "Damn." Her tone quickly killed the mood as she rolled off of him and stood, gazing out the window.

"What is it?" Murdock propped himself up on an elbow so he could see what was prompting the sudden change in mood. Coming up the path from the lake were Face, Frankie and Haley.

He glanced at the clock as he swung his long legs out of bed. "Shit, it's almost 3. Guess we've been at this longer than I thought."

Sydney heaved a sigh and turned to consider him. "I suppose I'll just have to wait."

He stood. "We don't even have time for a shower."

"I kind of need a shower." Syd turned and headed into the bathroom.

He picked up his underwear and followed. "We are agreed that we're going to wait to tell Haley about us?"

"For now, yes. But not for long. I think we should sit down with her tonight. Maybe after Maggie gets here, and Haley gets her way with something. Hopefully she'll be more accepting then."

Murdock stood in the bathroom door and stepped into his underwear as Sydney turned on the water. "I wish I could join you."

Sydney turned the water back off immediately. "Actually, I think I'll forego the shower for now. I think Haley may have heard me get one earlier and it could make her suspicious."

"Go ahead and get one, Sugar. I'll distract them for a few minutes."

"You know, I always used to hate it when you called me 'sugar.'"

"You did? But it's a term of endearment!"

Sydney smiled at him. "I know, I just thought it was condescending. I don't mind it anymore . . . in fact I kind of like it. You get a little of your Texas twang back when you say it."

He moved into the bathroom, and gave her a light kiss, then leaned his forehead against hers. "This feels so right."

"That's because it is. We just need to give Haley some time to come to that conclusion."

They heard voices coming up the walk. "Damn, I better get down there." Murdock moved away reluctantly.

"Yeah, I think it may look a little suspicious, both of us coming down at the same time."

Murdock pulled on his pants, buttoning them hastily. He grabbed his t-shirt and blew a kiss to Sydney as he ran out the door.

"Murdock, we caught 'em – you get to clean 'em!" Face called.

Murdock ran down the stairs, pulling his t-shirt over his head, realizing that he had tarried just a little too long to beat the fishing trio to the kitchen.

He rounded the bottom of the stairs and nearly collided with Face, holding out a stringer full of fish.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Face thrust the fish at him. "Didn't you start dinner, yet?"

Murdock accepted the stringer. "Uh, no, I was just . . . about to do that."

"What the hell have you been doing for the last two and a half hours?"

Haley walked into view, trailed closely by Frankie. "Face, don't," he said under his breath.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot, you had to chop wood. Probably needed a shower after that, huh?" Face had his back to Haley, and gave Murdock a wink.

"Yeah." Murdock sighed in relief. "I think we can find some veggies to go with the fish."

Sydney came down the stairs, and stopped between Face and Murdock. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Why don't you get some potatoes and green beans started while I go out to the shed and clean the fish." Murdock was relieved to be able to stand next to Sydney without developing an immediate hard-on.

Sydney nodded and flashed him a contented smile. He felt his own lips turn up in response.

"Oh my God!" Haley put her hands on her hips, her expression furious.

Everyone turned toward the young woman.

"What's wrong?" Syd asked.

"Do I look stupid?" Haley seethed. "I thought you were going to wait!"

*

Syd glanced at HM, and his eyes begged, 'How did she know?'

She shrugged and brushed between him and Face to stop in front of her daughter. "Why don't you come into the kitchen and help me get the vegetables ready? We can talk." She suggested calmly.

"Talk! It's a little late for that. How could you do this to me?" Haley's anger surprised Sydney.

"Haley, no one's done anything to you," HM sounded bewildered.

Haley aimed her glare over Sydney's shoulder. "And you, I thought you and I understood each other. I thought we all understood each other."

Sydney took her hand. "Haley, you're over-reacting."

But Haley jerked away. "You two can't keep your hands off each other for even one day and I'm over-reacting?"

"Haley Marie, that's enough!" Sydney could hear her heart hammering in her ears.

"You're right, it is." Haley turned and slammed out of the house.

Sydney stared after her for a moment then crossed her arms and turned back toward HM. "So much for waiting until tonight."

He ran his hands back through his hair in agitation. "How did she know?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Frankie snorted. "C'mon, Murdock. Everything about your body language says you two are comfortable with each other. The change is like night and day. If I can see it, then anybody can."

"I didn't think she would react this badly." Sydney shook her head. "I better go talk to her."

Face put a restraining hand on Syd's arm. "Let me go talk to her. Maybe I can reason with her. She's too angry with you and Murdock, right now."

Sydney sighed as Face jogged out the door after her daughter. In five minutes Haley had managed to wipe out the afterglow of the past couple hours with HM. She glanced at him. He looked entirely overwhelmed.

She knew how he felt.

Face caught up to Haley back down by the lake, and sat down next to her on the rough-hewn bench near the dock. "Hey."

"I don't want to talk."

Face nodded. "So, I'll talk."

"I don't want a lecture, either."

"No lecture. I promise."

"Fine."

Face rested his elbows on his knees and gazed out at the lake. "Your mom is a pretty amazing person."

Haley glanced at him and shifted. "Yeah, she is." Her tone held a grudging respect.

Face nodded. "I know you don't know your dad that well –"

"We don't know that he is my dad."

Face took a deep breath; there was no doubt in his mind. "Fine. I know you don't know Murdock that well, but I've known him for a long time, and he is one of the most incredibly talented and caring people I've ever met."

"Yeah, they're both great people –"

"You said you didn't want to talk." Face raised his eyebrows, and Haley lapsed into a sullen silence.

"Can I continue?"
She nodded.

"Anyway, about your mom and Murdock; I thought it was remarkable when they found each other the first time, especially given the circumstances. The fact that they found each other again borders on a miracle. Don't you think that's a sign?"

Haley snorted. "You mean like fate or something?"

"You don't believe in fate?"

"You really think they were predestined to be together? And Mom says I romanticize." Haley rolled her eyes at him.

Face chuckled. "Yeah, maybe that's a little sentimental. But you have to admit, it's pretty weird that they walked into the same grocery store yesterday, at almost the same time."

Haley gave a slight shake. "Yes, that was weird. Mom acted strange from the minute we walked through the door. Like she could tell HM was in there . . ."

"I know you're having trouble accepting their relationship, Haley – it's new to you, and it's all happening fast. But it took them months to get together during the war, and now they've been on hold, through no fault of their own, for 15 years. You're young, but surely you can understand how hard it must be for them to . . . uh . . ."

"Keep their hands off each other?"

"Well, I was going to say 'abstain' but you get the drift."

He could see the wheels turning in Haley's head. She finally broke the silence. "So Mom and HM are meant to be together. Where does that leave me?"

Face's eyes went wide. "Right where you should have been all this time, Haley – with a Mom and Dad who both love you."

"If he is my dad."

Face heaved an exasperated sigh. Teenagers could be very thick. "Haley, Murdock could care less about the biology of your conception. You're Syd's daughter. That's enough for him."

Haley stood up and crossed her arms, gazing out across the lake. "Maybe for him. I'm tired of being uncertain about my past. I thought when Mom remembered everything that all of my questions would be answered. Instead, it's just creating more questions . . . and problems."

Face couldn't think of a response to that before Haley turned to him and spoke again. "Thanks for the talk, Face. I just really think they should have respected my feelings and waited. It wasn't too much to ask."

She turned and walked away, headed back toward the house. Face didn't bother to follow. Teenage girls obviously didn't think the way he did. He had to admit, his perspective was quite a bit different from Haley's. He would have been ecstatic to have one parent, let alone two. Maybe Syd could make some progress with her now that she was calmed down. He satisfied himself with the thought that he had at least laid the groundwork for that discussion. Maybe?

He sat back and considered where they were, and where they were headed. Haley was frustrated, yes, but it seemed so minor given what Sydney was dealing with. He wondered what had happened to make Murdock think Syd was dead? It struck him again, the impossible odds she had beat to survive and find Murdock again. No matter what Haley believed or didn't believe, Face was convinced it was Devine intervention that had brought them to this point. Sydney and Murdock were soul mates, swirling around in the chaos of the universe with an invisible bond that might stretch tight, but never broke, bringing them back together again, and again. Truth be told, he had always been jealous of what they had, even before it developed into something more than the friendship that they had all shared.

Then there was Richter. He might be the best hope for helping Syd, but Face was wary of the Doctor's allegiances. He knew Hannibal was, too. By bringing Richter out here, Hannibal hoped to maintain control of the situation, regardless of Richter's loyalties. But Face couldn't help but think that physical control of the situation was an illusion of any kind of true control. He prayed that Devine intervention continued to act in their favor.

Because when it came to mind games, the Doctor definitely had the upper hand.

* * * *

Prologue to Chapter 11

Lewis slid his identification card through the slot, and heard the telltale click signaling he could enter the secured area. The buxom woman behind the desk looked up at him and smiled. "Hello, Lew. It's been awhile since you've visited our neck of the woods. What can we do for you?"

"I need an Echelon uplink." Lewis said.

"Case number?"

"Sorry, Rochelle, you don't have the security clearance for that info. I'll log it under my personal ID. If the higher-ups have an issue, I'll talk to them about it."

Rochelle shrugged. "You're the boss." She pushed a button and the connecting door slid open.

Lewis walked down a long, non-descript hall. At the end he slid his ID through another slot, and went through another unmarked door, entering the hub of a suite of small offices, each with an array of electronic equipment. All rooms were currently empty. He slipped his card through another slot, and typed his ID and password into the attached keypad. The door clicked open, and he stepped inside and closed the door.

After arranging the shades on the windows so no one could look in, he sat down in front of a small computer. As his fingers tapped across the keyboard with practiced ease, he recalled when the first Vax unit was commissioned. He hadn't been alone in seeing the power that would come from the looming electronic age. Interconnectivity had reached a dizzying height. Though the first home-based units were still somewhat of a novelty, he predicted that they would become common-place in every home in the coming years. The march of technology was inevitable. What people didn't realize was just how insecure and accessible their lives would become in the process. It had already started.

It made his job easier in many respects, harder in others. The amount of data to sift through was phenomenal, but the techies in the Company were efficient at developing programs that could rapidly pare the gigabytes of information down to the interesting stuff that required human review to interpret.

He smiled as a map of the US spun onto the screen, intersecting circles blipping in and out, as the computer calculated the position of the transmitter code he had provided. The map turned, and the view narrowed slowly on the west coast, shifting to the Pacific Northwest, with the final blinking dot indicating a location just outside of Portland, Oregon.

What the hell were they doing in Portland?

CHAPTER 11: Mind Games

Murdock heard the front door of the house open. He didn't bother to poke his head out of the kitchen. The last time he did that, he had received the full brunt of a glare from Haley who headed straight up the stairs without saying a word. Obviously Face had been unable to work his usual charm on the opposite sex. Murdock took some comfort in the fact that it demonstrated Haley had a good head on her shoulders, at least where men were concerned.

But then a voice called out, "Hey, guys!" And he grinned.

"Ames is here! C'mon, Syd, I want to introduce you." He wiped his hands on a towel and strode out of the kitchen.

"Hey, Chiquita!" He enveloped Amy in a bear hug as she walked into the living room. "You're early."

Amy returned the hug. "Dr. Richter and I actually started driving last night. I forgot what a haul it was. We drove in the last few hours this morning."

He grinned and released her. "You should have flown. It's not like you had a cry baby like BA with ya or somethin'."

She smiled and shook her head. "How have you been, Murdock?"

"Crazy as ever."

His grin faded when Richter walked in behind her. "Hello, Murdock."

Murdock considered the Doc for several long seconds, before turning away without responding. "Syd, c'mon out here and meet Amy. Frank, why don't you get on the com to Hannibal and BA and let them know our guests have arrived."

He caught Amy's apologetic glance at Richter, before she turned a reproving look on him. He shrugged and continued to ignore Richter's presence. If he opened his mouth he'd be blatantly rude, and he figured the cold shoulder was preferable.

He realized that Amy's gaze was now focused behind him, and turned to find Sydney standing there. He smiled, and reached out a hand, pulling her forward. "Syd, I'd like you to meet Amy Allen."

Sydney took Amy's hand in a firm handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Amy."

When Murdock didn't continue with the introductions, Syd turned to the doctor and held out her hand. "Dr. Richter, I'm Sydney Wilson. It's nice to see you again."

Richter tipped his head as he shook her hand. "We've met?"

"A couple years ago. At the time, my name was Alexis Smith." Sydney's eyes never waivered from Richter's. "Dr. Asher referred me?"

Realization dawned, but Richter's gaze became guarded. "Oh, I remember – David's retrograde amnesia patient. So, you've recovered you memory?"

"You don't recognize her?" Murdock spoke to the Doctor for the first time.

Richter turned to look at Murdock. "Well, I recognize her as Dr. Asher's patient, Alexis Smith. But that's not what you mean, is it?"

Murdock approached his former psychiatrist. "Sydney Wilson. We discussed her more than once. I even showed you her picture." His gaze was openly disbelieving.

Richter studied Sydney for a moment. "She's the woman you talked about early in your therapy?"

"She's the one."

"I thought you said she was dead." Richter's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"I did. But you knew differently, didn't you?" Murdock crossed his arms.

"You think I knew who she was?"

Murdock nodded. "You saw her picture."

Richter's face registered first confusion, followed by a dawning understanding, and disbelief. "That tattered black and white photo you carried everywhere?"Murdock considered the odds that his once-trusted therapist truly hadn't known who Sydney was. It was possible. But there were still things about his story that didn't add up. "It wasn't that bad a picture . . ."

Richter sighed. "Murdock, if I had known who she was, don't you think I would have told you? I thought we trusted each other."

Murdock's jaw clenched at the accusation in Richter's tone. "Honestly, I'm not sure who to trust anymore."

Richter's shoulders wilted. He held Murdock's unrelenting gaze for several seconds, then began to pace. "OK, then, what am I doing here?"

*

Murdock lapsed into a brooding silence, and Sydney answered, "I'm afraid there are still gaps – critical gaps – in my memory."

Richter stopped and turned toward Sydney, his eyes narrowed. "Then you should consult your therapist."

Sydney watched the Doctor to gage his reaction as she responded, "That will be difficult. Dr. Asher is dead."

Richter's jaw dropped. "Dead? When? How?"

Sydney kept her voice level, analytical. "Yesterday evening. Single gun-shot wound to the head. The locals think it was suicide."

Richter snorted. "David. Suicide. Never."

Sydney tipped her head and considered the doctor through narrowed eyes. Richter seemed on the up and up. At least she felt certain he had no involvement in Asher's death. Though that didn't necessarily mean he hadn't helped Asher two years ago, she felt certain, based on Richter's responses and attitude, that the relationship between the two men was strained at best. Her face relaxed into a cool smile. "I said the same thing."

"I still don't think I can help you," Richter said.

Sydney felt a familiar niggling of apprehension. "Why not?"

"Ms. Wilson –"

"Sydney, please."

"Sydney, I've known David Asher for a very long time. He's one of the most brilliant hypnotherapists in the world. He has developed theories that have shaped research in the area for the last three decades. Unfortunately, he has always . . . stretched the ethical boundaries that most psychiatrists work within."

The niggling turned into clawing as the apprehension took a strangle-hold in her gut. "What are you saying?"

Richter glanced down, and when he looked back at Sydney, his look was veiled and she had the vague sensation that he was not being entirely forthcoming. "I don't know, obviously, but . . . retrograde amnesia is a rare condition. Rarer still, is when that amnesia persists for a long period of time . . ."

"How rare?"

Richter shifted. "Rare enough that . . . I suspect Dr. Asher was responsible for the ongoing nature of your condition."

Sydney lowered herself onto the couch. In between the slugs of evidence that Asher was a liar, she managed to somehow dissuade herself from the conspiracy theory forming at the back of her mind. She didn't want to accept that she had been manipulated for 15 long years. Unfortunately, the mounting evidence was making it difficult to ignore. Face had described recent events as an emotional roller coaster, but that seemed far too tame an analogy. She was thinking her life, in general, resembled more of a Class 5 hurricane.

Hannibal strode into the room a moment later. "What did I miss?" The Colonel's sharp eyes assessed the scene in a glance. "Apparently quite a bit."

Sydney didn't really recall the next several seconds; or was it minutes? Murdock's voice shook her out of her trance. "Syd, are you OK?"

Murdock now sat beside her on the couch, and Sydney looked into his warm, and very worried eyes, and tried on a smile. It felt wrong. Based on the deepening concern in Murdock's gaze she knew it must look wrong, too. Then she glanced around the room, and realized everyone was staring at her.

"I'm fine . . . fine."

Hannibal broke the tension. "Amy, you're in the kitchen with me to finish up dinner. BA, take Frankie and rig up triggers at those weak points in our perimeter – something flashy, Frank!" The room cleared in seconds, and Sydney silently thanked Hannibal for his consideration.

She turned to the Doctor. "Why can't you help?"

Richter licked his lips, and sat down in the chair near Sydney. "Let me ask you this: how often did Asher utilize hypnotherapy in your treatment?"

Sydney considered Richter silently for several seconds. His demeanor had shifted from slight deception to vague guilt. She was trying to decide whether to trust the man or not. Her voice when she finally responded was a monotone. "Quite a bit in the beginning . . . maybe two or three times per week. It tapered off slowly, dropping to once a week, then once a month. Eventually, it was only when my anxiety attacks would flare up."

Richter's eyes narrowed. "Tell me about your anxiety attacks."

"You know, anxiety attacks. Where your heart races, and you feel anxious, but there's no reason for it – the usual."

Sydney could tell by Richter's hesitation that the anxiety attacks might not be so usual.

Richter took a deep breath. "You've heard of post-hypnotic suggestion, right? It's a technique often used to treat addictions. For example, in a smoker I might implant the suggestion that when they have the urge to light up, they will instead chew a piece of gum. It's a simple reflex response embedded in the patient's subconscious mind during hypnosis, with a simple post-hypnosis trigger – wanting a smoke."

Sydney leaned forward. "So what you are suggesting is that Asher implanted a post-hypnotic suggestion causing me to feel as if I'm having an anxiety attack any time I start to remember?"

Richter nodded. "In the simplest sense, yes. But it would be a far more complex trigger. Honestly, I'm not even sure how it could be done. Remembering isn't targeted enough, though with an existing amnesiac, perhaps the mechanism would be similar enough to craving a cigarette to allow it to be used as a trigger."

"You know, in the grocery store yesterday, I could feel an anxiety attack coming on. Usually I would go home and curl up in my bedroom until it passed, but yesterday was different. Why, when the memories came back, didn't I have a severe attack?"

"You passed out, Syd," Murdock said. "That's pretty severe."

Richter shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe the sight of Murdock triggered such an overwhelming rush of memories that it short-circuited the post-hypnotic suggestion. Just conjecture on my part, but I think that's possible. Could explain the blackout, too."

"Then why can't I remember that one day?" Sydney heard her own voice rise in frustration. Murdock gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb running soothingly over the back of her knuckles.

"Again, just theories, based on what I know. It's possible that it's your own brain's defensive mechanism. If that's the case, you may never recover the memory of that day. Or, it could be that, for some reason, Asher embedded redundant blocks on that particular day."

"That's possible?"

"I'm not sure, but as I said, David Asher was at the leading edge of hypnotherapy. What concerns me is your reaction to anything I might do to try to help you recover your memory. The consequences are unpredictable, and could be severe, possibly even leading to psychosis. I'm not willing to take that risk so you can regain a day's worth of memory."

Sydney clicked her tongue in frustration as she stood up, pacing in a tight circle. "So what you're saying is we've come 2500 miles just to get back to square one."

"I truly am sorry," Richter said.

Sydney spun away and strode toward the door.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw HM stand and start after her. "Syd?" His tone conveyed a question, and his concern.

She turned at the door. "I'm OK, HM. I just . . . need some fresh air, and time to think."

"I'll come with you –"

"No!" She shook herself. How could she make him understand what a distraction he was? "I need some time alone, to sort things out. I'll be fine – just give me some space." She gave him an apologetic smile before hurrying out of the house, into the wide open mountain paradise, where she hoped the claustrophobic feeling would disappear and she'd be able to process what she had learned with a clear head. She laughed humorlessly at the irony of that thought as she took off down a narrow path, away from the lake.

*

Murdock sighed in frustration. "Jesus. Did you have to be so hopeless about the whole thing? I mean, there's gotta be something we can do. You helped me recover a good portion of my memories – with a few exceptions."

"Murdock, you recovered those memories on your own. All I provided was a safe environment for you to allow yourself to remember." Richter shook his head slowly. "Perhaps, if I had Asher's files I could determine how best to help Sydney. But even then, the chances are slim that I could decipher whatever games he was playing with her mind – if he even wrote it down."

Hannibal walked out of the kitchen and glanced around the room before focusing on Murdock. "Was that Syd I heard leaving?"

He nodded. "Doctor Richter says there isn't anything he can do to safely recover Syd's memories, Colonel."

Hannibal pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit it, puffing thoughtfully for a few seconds. "I don't suppose she's taking that news too well. So, what now?"

"I think we're dead in the water, here," Murdock said. "Maybe a trip to Laos to shake down Kyeh?"

"I don't want to take Syd and Haley into that rat's nest, and I'm not sure where we could stash them so they would be safe without us around. Here's probably the best option, but it's so secluded. That can be both good and bad."

"Maybe there is something I can do to help." Richter's eyes were locked on Murdock.

The pilot considered Richter narrowly. "I don't like that look, Doctor."

Richter approached him. "I may not be able to help Sydney recover her memories. But you, Murdock, maybe we can get you to remember."

Murdock shook his head. "You tried for over a decade and couldn't do it."

"But don't you see, Murdock, Sydney is alive."

"Yeah, I know."

Richter shook his head impatiently. "I told you the reason you couldn't remember was likely related to the death of your female friend. But she's not dead. So the reason for your mind to protect you from those memories has been removed."

"So you want to put me under hypnosis?" Murdock asked.

"Hypnosis may not be necessary." Richter caught and held the pilot's gaze. "However, trust definitely is."

Murdock clenched his teeth. "We could have a problem then."

"I told you, Murdock. I didn't recognize her." Richter's voice was even, but Murdock thought he recognized a lilt of guilt, or maybe it was hurt. He wasn't sure he really gave a damn, either way. "Murdock, you have to believe that if I had recognized her, I would have told you."

"You said you suspect Asher was manipulating Sydney because it's unusual for amnesia like she has to persist for so long."

"That's correct."

Murdock's gaze hardened. "And you didn't recognize that same thing when Alexis Smith showed up in your office two years ago?"

"I told you, I didn't know who she was –"

Murdock's teeth ground in an attempt to keep his mounting anger in check. "But you knew Alexis Smith was a long term amnesiac. You knew Asher was likely manipulating her. And yet you didn't do anything about it. In fact, something tells me you knew far more than you let on about Alexis Smith, and yet you did nothing to help her. Why is that, Doctor? Huh? I really want to know." His voice dropped to a menacing snarl, his control deteriorating.

Richter seemed to realize slowly that he had misread his patient's lingering anger. Hannibal took a step forward, positioning himself so that a single step would bring him between the two men. Murdock recognized it immediately as a protective gesture. Hannibal wanted to make sure Murdock didn't hurt Richter. The realization made Murdock's gut twist – surely the Colonel didn't think he'd stoop so low as to attack the defenseless man.

He emitted a low growl as he recognized that perhaps Hannibal was right. He stood abruptly and glanced at the door through which Syd had disappeared only minutes before. He had promised her some space, but he needed some, too. He turned and jogged up the stairs and out onto the upper veranda at the end of the hall. He gripped the railing and gazed out at the serene setting, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging in his mind.

Richter may not have known who Alexis Smith was, but he sure as hell had known that she was being manipulated by Asher. He had known and he had done nothing to help her. It was unforgivable.

Doctor Allen Richter could take his fucking trust and shove it up his ass.

Back down in the living room, Hannibal watched his pilot disappear up the stairs like a wild animal bolting out of an open cage door. He turned back to Richter. The Doctor stood uncertainly in the center of the room staring after Murdock in shock.

Hannibal cleared his throat. "You're lucky. I'm getting older and I'm not sure I could have kept him from pounding the shit out of you if he decided he wanted to."

Richter sat down in the chair heavily, shaking his head. "It's been a long time since I saw him that angry."

Hannibal let that statement hang in the air for a few seconds before prodding the shaken therapist. "So tell me, Doc – did you know?"

Richter's eyes spoke volumes when he finally raised them to look at Hannibal. "He's right. I knew. Worse yet, I knew and I did nothing. It's unconscionable."

Hannibal took a seat on the couch and leaned forward. "Maybe you should explain."

* * *

The hike up the mountain, to the ridge behind the house was steep and strenuous. As Sydney's body worked up the long slope, her mind struggled with the possibility that she would never remember what had happened to her 15 years ago. She refused to accept it, just as she refused to listen to her muscles screaming that they had had enough. She pushed until she reached the top of the ridge, where she stood gasping for breath as her eyes drank in the beautiful, rugged landscape below her.

Sydney found a boulder on the ridge that offered a good place to sit and leaned back against the cool rock. Her breathing and heart rate slowly returned to normal, but her mind continued to chew on the problem at hand. Her damn, fickle memory was testing the limits of her patience. She had to know, and if Richter wouldn't help her, then she would figure out some way to recover the memory herself. Maybe walking through the events of January 26 and 27, 1972 would help. She started with the last vivid memory – her encounter with Murdock in the supply shed. She had a head start on that one.

The scenery slipped out of focus as she turned her gaze inward, remembering the end of the evening . . . or rather, early morning . . .

January 27, 1972, shortly after 0300

"Damn, sugar, I gotta go." Murdock stumbled to his feet, getting tangled in the blankets as he dug for his discarded clothing.

"When do you leave?" Sydney watched him, her heart sinking at the thought of him heading out on mission. A mission she was sure was a setup.

"0600, so we arrive just before the bank opens." Murdock pulled on his pants and turned to look at her, still sprawled naked on the blankets.

"Don't go, HM." She could hear the petulance in her voice and she hated it. She knew what his response would be even as she said it.

"Unless you can give me something more concrete to take to Colonel Smith than your gut, we have to follow our orders." He pulled the t-shirt over his head.

He was right, she had precious little evidence to offer: a half-heard conversation between Kyeh and a subordinate officer; a suspicious exchange between Morrison and Curtis; and the cryptic ledger that she suspected detailed illegal transactions between Morrison's network and the NVA. She was sure Colonel Morrison could come up with plausible explanations for all. Her gut told her Morrison and Curtis were on the NVA payroll. With the end of the war looming, they needed an exit strategy, and Smith's Alpha Team was theirs. She was sure of it.

She reached over and grabbed her pants, standing in one fluid motion. Murdock caught her and pulled her against his chest. "Don't go away mad, sugar. I'll tell Hannibal what you told me. We'll be careful. I promise."

Sydney pushed him away, angry. "Platitudes, Murdock. God damn platitudes. You, Lew, Smith . . . hell, even Ray told me I'm imagining things. I'm just a delusional woman who wants to keep her man safe. It's bullshit!"

She pulled her clothes on, avoiding the pilot's keen gaze.

He looked at his watch. "If I'm gonna get a couple hours of shuteye before we leave, I gotta get goin', sugar."

"Stop calling me that, damn it!"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her against him one more time, ignoring the anger flashing in her eyes. She put her hands against his chest, but he was stronger than her and wouldn't let go. "Sydney, calm down. I don't think you're delusional. Neither did Ray. But you know how the Army works. We refuse the mission, we're thrown in the stockade. Unless you have something concrete, we don't have a choice."

Sydney looked up into his eyes. "We could just leave. Now. I have an exit. You can come with me –"

"I can't leave my unit, Syd."

"Ray left."

"Ray's tour was up. It's different. You know I can't leave."

She grabbed the front of his flight suit in her fists. "HM, please. I have a bad feeling about this one. Let's go talk to Hannibal. Let me tell him –"

"I'll talk to Hannibal. I'll tell him what you told me. It's not going to change the facts." He glanced over her shoulder at his watch. "Please, Syd, let it go. We're damn good at what we do. We'll be fine. We always are."

He leaned down and kissed her firmly on the lips. After a moment of resistance, Syd returned the kiss hungrily. She prolonged the contact, her arms snaking around his neck, her tongue probing his mouth. She pressed herself against him, and felt his response.

He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently away. "Damn woman," he growled. "I have to go." He turned and walked away.

"HM . . ." Sydney winced at the plaintive sound of her voice.

He turned and flashed her a cocky smile. "I'll be back later, and we'll continue this conversation. I promise."

Sydney's eyes refocused on the rocky landscape spread at her feet. Murdock hadn't kept that promise. Tears stung her eyes. She had watched him walk out of her life that day. Hands clasped tightly in her lap, Sydney forced her eyes closed and ignored the tears running down her face. She needed to be calm and run through the events dispassionately, not fall apart analyzing what she had lost. She took several deep breaths, and forced herself to continue . . .

January 27, 1972, 0330

Sydney waited 15 minutes after Murdock was gone before exiting the shed. She cursed when she realized she would have to leave it unlocked. Hopefully Face would take care of that little SNAFU. She took a circuitous route back to her quarters, purposely choosing a path that would bring her close to Morrison's hootch. She was surprised to see light leaking around the shutters, and slipped closer, hoping to find out something that would put a stop to the suicide mission the Team was assigned.

She wasn't disappointed. She heard Morrison inside. "They leave this afternoon. They should be at the bank by 1900. Make sure your men are in place and ready."

Her stomach knotted when she recognized the heavy accent of General Kyeh as he responded. "The A-Team will be killed. My men are prepared. But what of the pilot?"

"Leave Captain Murdock to us." Sydney struggled to recall where she had heard the voice of the third man in the hoocth. She edged up to look through the tiny gap between the shutter and the building, but the field of vision was too limited to provide any view of the occupants.

"My friends, I trust you not to leave any, what do you Americans call it – loose ends. I am taking a great risk helping you this overtly. If my superiors suspect anything –"

"You worry too much Kyeh." The third voice said. "Captain Murdock is not your concern."

She heard movement and the creak of a door opening. Morrison's voice was curt. "You both better get out of here, before the night post makes its next round."

Sydney heard the door creak shut, followed by Morrison shuffling around his hootch. Kyeh and the other man had not exited through the main door, and she found herself wondering how they left. She was just about to slip around to the other side of the hootch to see if she could find an alternative exit when the main door did open, spilling light into the night just around the corner from where she crouched. "Lewis, it's about time you showed up. We need to go over the latest plans for today. We're moving start time back to 1700. That should put the Team in position to hit the bank just as the Tet New Year celebrations are kicking into high gear."

Syd listened for a few minutes as Morrison and her partner hashed through a few details of the plan for the A-Team's next mission. Morrison sounded, for all intents and purposes, like a concerned CO, and Lew seemed to buy the act. She hoped she would be able to convince her partner differently. She didn't bother to stay and listen. Instead, she slipped around the back of the hootch, and tried to find where the two earlier visitors had exited. She found the exit almost immediately, a low door, or sorts, fashioned into the side of the wall facing away from camp. She could see a faint trail leading away from the hootch and decided to follow it.

Her mind wandered as she weaved into the trees behind the hootch. She knew the basics of the Team's mission that day. After the drop, Murdock was due to report back to HQ. She was fairly confident that she would still be on base when he returned. After all, she and Lew had been caught up in post-troop-withdrawal preparations. The CIA had already set up training camps for the South Vietnamese, but helping them develop their own spy network was going to take time, and was essential if the South was to have any hope of success. In fact, it occurred to her that they hadn't been involved in the intel gathering for the Hanoi job – it was something she, herself, had learned by accident.

Eventually the trail she was following petered out, and she was left to pick her way back to the base. She got back to her own quarters, where she put on her clothes. She came to the decision that she was going to have to tell Lew about the overheard conversation between Morrison and Kyeh. Normally, it wasn't something she would share with Lew, but she had a feeling she was going to need all the help she could get if she was going to scuttle the mission on such short notice. At least she had some time, since the Team wasn't due to leave until this afternoon.

She found Lewis in his room, bare to the waist, and bleary-eyed. "What the hell, Syd. We aren't on duty for another 4 hours." He squinted at her. "Have you even been to bed?"

"Lew, I overheard Morrison talking to Kyeh and another man. The Hanoi job is a set up."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his quarters. The door swung shut behind her. "What the hell are you talking about, Sydney?"

"Just before you arrived at Morrison's hootch this morning, Kyeh was there, talking to the Colonel and someone else. They were making plans to eliminate Smith's Alpha Team."

"Kyeh was in Morrison's hootch? C'mon Syd, that's a stretch."

"I was right outside, Lew. And I know Kyeh's voice. Besides, he was addressed by name. It was Kyeh alright."

Lew's face hardened. "What were you doing outside Morrison's hootch, Sydney?"

Syd stopped and considered what to tell Lew, finally deciding now was no time to dance around the relationship she had with Murdock. "I went to see Murdock last night. To warn him to be careful on the mission. Which reminds me, when did you get involved in the intel for the Hanoi job?"

"You went to see Murdock – you've both been told to cool it, Sydney. As far as the Hanoi job – I'd like to know how the hell you know about it."

"Give it a rest, Lew. You know Murdock and I are seeing each other. Everyone encouraged it after the Team came back from the POW camp." Sydney shook her head in frustration. "That's totally beside the point, anyway. How I know about the Hanoi job is less important than the fact that it is a setup. We have to scuttle that mission, Lew. Murdock was going to talk to Smith, but you know how credible he finds my intel."

Lew's golden-brown eyes took on a gray cast, cold and distant. "What, exactly, did you tell Murdock, Sydney?"

Sydney felt vaguely uncomfortable under that gaze. "Just what I told you, though I didn't have anything concrete until now."

"He doesn't know about the overheard conversation?"

"No." Her brows knitted in consternation. "No. I had already left him by then."

"I thought you were in your quarters, Sydney. If you went to see Murdock last night, what were you doing wandering around the base at 3am?"

Sydney felt a flush creep up her face at the question, but she was getting frustrated with her partner's thick-headedness."Damn it, Lewis, you're missing the point. We need to scuttle the Hanoi mission. It's a setup."

"I need to know exactly what you told Smith's pilot, Sydney."

In her mind the exchange continued on an endless loop, stretching like a veil over other memories that she knew must follow. Try as she might to recreate the conversation in her mind, or to skip past it, she couldn't. That was all she could seem to access. She consoled herself with the knowledge that it was over an hour beyond what she had managed to remember prior to the exercise. That, at least was progress. Maybe the guys could help her. If she reached Lewis, they must have managed to get a message to Hannibal. But her stomach twisted into a knot as she realized that if they had gotten to Hannibal, surely the Team wouldn't have gone on the mission. It seemed strange that she hadn't discussed her suspicions about Morrison and Curtis with her partner, but she couldn't recall her own reasoning behind that decision. Obviously, something had gone terribly wrong after she finally did talk to Lewis. But what?

She stood and stretched, glancing at her watch. She had been gone for over an hour. HM would be worried if she didn't get back soon. The time alone had allowed her to regroup, at least. She had remembered incrementally more than she knew before, and though what she recalled seemed to raise more questions than it answered, she still saw it as progress.

* * * *

Prologue to Chapter 12

"Mr. Cheney. It's Rochelle out on the west coast. You wanted to know if Jeremy Lewis came in to access Echelon?"

"That's right."

"Well, sir, he just left. He didn't provide a case number, but I let him through, just as you instructed."

"You have the results of his query?"

"Yes, sir. Access code 59HMM091988. Do you need anything else?"

"Thank you, Rochelle. That should do it."

Ike put down the secured satellite phone, and turned to the computer screen. He pulled the keyboard forward and typed in the access code. A map of the US slowly narrowed until it centered on Portland, Oregon.

Ike smiled. "Colonel Smith, you old codger, you still have some tricks up your sleeve."

Ike had always admired Smith. He had been pleased when his protégé was recruited by him. He knew Smith's unorthodox alpha team training coupled with Murdock's black ops and counter-intelligence training would produce a formidable asset in the young pilot.

Unfortunately, Smith's definition of unorthodox and Ike's definition of unorthodox were sufficiently different that Ike realized that asset would be useless to him. It had been his one miscalculation in Vietnam.

CHAPTER 12: Melt Down Reflections

Haley had watched her mother practically run out of the house earlier, her furious pace carrying her up into the woods beside the house, and out of sight. A short while later she heard footsteps pound up the stairs, and down the hall. When she peeked out of her room she saw HM standing at the railing of the balcony at the side of the house.

She ducked back into her room and considered what that meant. Had HM and her mother had an argument over her? She felt conflicting emotions about that possibility. She hoped beyond hope that HM was her father. The more she got to know him, the more she liked him. But she also knew that was her impulsive heart, ready to leap at the chance to know the father she had dreamed about for so long.

Her mind told her to step back and look at the big picture. Jerry's warnings couldn't just be ignored, unless he wasn't a good guy. But Jerry worked for the CIA, he knew Mom, he was part of the government – he had to be a good guy. The A-Team had been fugitives for over a decade, which had to mean they were bad guys, unless she considered the possibility that they were wrongly accused. Even so, that didn't necessarily make them good. So why did she dump the satellite phone Jerry had given her as soon as they landed in Portland? Her mother would tell her to trust her instincts, but her instincts were so conflicted at the moment she didn't know what to trust.

Maybe she should follow her mother's lead. She obviously trusted the A-Team. She admitted that she loved HM. She seemed so incredibly comfortable and at ease around them – more so than Haley had ever witnessed. In the end, that swayed her opinion more than anything else. If her mother trusted the A-Team, then she should, too.

But where did that leave Jerry? Misguided, maybe, like the rest of the government must be if the A-Team were the good guys? Or did he have some other motive to get her to distrust men that her mother obviously trusted so completely? Haley dropped her head into her hands. It hurt thinking about it, but the need to puzzle it out had become obsessive.

She heard the door to the balcony open and close, followed quickly by the sound of her mother's bedroom door opening. A minute later, the balcony door opened and closed again.

She ventured another look out of her bedroom. HM sat in one of the lounges on the balcony. He seemed much calmer now, his long legs stretched in front of him, with a silver box sitting on his lap. She watched as he opened the box and extracted something from it. Her curiosity carried her silently down the hall to take a closer look. She could see that it was a picture, but of what she couldn't tell. She was going to have to talk to him if she wanted to know what was going on. She opened the door to the balcony, and took the plunge. "Hey. What are you doing?"

*

Murdock started when Haley appeared. He took a deep breath. He really wasn't sure he was up to dealing with her hot and cold attitude right now. He glanced down and tried to see the box through a teenager's eyes – boring. Maybe she wouldn't stay. "Just looking at some old stuff."

"Who's in the picture?"

He looked back down at the tattered black and white photo. Face had taken it, and Murdock had carried it with him everywhere for several years. In the picture Sydney and he stood grinning, with their arms around each other. At the time he thought her name was Sheila, though the truth was he never really thought the name fit her. He ran a thumb over her image. It was shot from several feet away, and her features weren't real clear. He thought the picture was better than that. Maybe it was just that he had such a clear image of Syd in his mind that he never noticed that the photo was lousy.

"HM, are you there?" Haley was waving a hand in front of his face.

He had forgotten she was there, or maybe it was wishful thinking. If he ignored her, would she just disappear? Apparently not. He held out the photo without saying anything. Would she recognize her mother?

Haley dropped into the adjacent chair and examined the picture for several seconds. "Is that you?" He nodded, and Haley pointed to the woman. "Is that Mom?" Her eyes widened.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad picture. "Yes. It was taken shortly after we met."

"Good guess, huh?" Haley held the photo out to him.

He took the photo out of her fingers and dropped it into the box. Maybe he'd have to give that one to Richter. He probably wouldn't have been able to recognize Syd from the photo.

Haley pursed her lips and leaned forward. "What else have you got in there?"

Murdock grunted and flipped the lid shut. "Just a bunch of old stuff, like I said."

"Were those medals?"

"You know, Haley, it's really nothing of interest to you." Murdock knew he was being grumpy with her, but he really just wanted to be left alone.

"Soor-r-ree!" Haley responded. "I was just trying to be friendly."

"Why start now?"

"Who peed in your cereal?"

Murdock snorted and shook his head. "You."

Haley sat back "I think you have that backward."

Murdock raised his eyebrows and turned to her. "What?"

Haley looked at him silently for several seconds, then jumped to her feet, pacing as she talked. "Yesterday you dropped into my life like a lead balloon. I haven't got a clue who you are but, BAM!" She smacked her hands together for effect. "You want to act like some long-lost father. I suppose screwing the mother is a father's prerogative. Obviously it doesn't matter how I feel." She crossed her arms and turned to glare at him.

Murdock knew his cool was slipping, if it had ever really been there to begin with. He stood and faced her, allowing his frustration with her full reign. "You want to talk about behavior – let's talk about yours, little girl. I have been nothing but nice to you. I've tried to engage you, get to know you. Sometimes, I even think I'm getting through that thick skull of yours. Then suddenly you start treating me like the enemy, again. I'm getting whiplash every time we talk."

He decided belatedly that he had gone too far. Haley's face had pinched closed. "How do I know you aren't the enemy?"

He lifted his hands in surrender. "What makes you think I am?"

She was quiet for several seconds before answering, but her words landed like a sucker punch. "You admitted to running drugs. You and your friends have been convicted of murdering your commanding officer. Who knows, maybe you're the one who raped Mom."

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Is that what you think of me? Drugs, murder . . . rape. I'm not that kind of man, Haley. You shouldn't believe everything you hear . . . or make up in that active imagination of yours."

"So I'm just supposed to take your word?"

He shook his head with a wry smile as he leaned down to retrieve his worldly possessions. "It's all I've got, kid." He straightened and leveled her with a challenging gaze. "Take it or leave it."

"Arrrgh! How am I supposed to know who to trust?" Haley swung her hands out in an expansive gesture that knocked the box out of Murdock's hands. Her eyes went wide as the contents scattered across the deck.

Lying between them was a ring box holding a diamond ring that winked in the sunlight. Near the ring were medals, and a little further away were several ribbons. The photos had not yet landed.

Murdock watched the pictures drift away on the gentle breeze and heaved a defeated sigh. "Perfect."

He leaned down and scooped up the ring box, snapping it shut in the process. The photos - well, they were lousy photos, anyway - the pictures in his head were much better. He stepped over the decorations, brushed by Haley, and walked back into the house without a word. There was nothing left to say.

*

Haley stared around herself in shock. She hadn't meant to do that, and she opened her mouth to tell Murdock she was sorry, but the words stuck in her throat, and then her was gone. She dropped to her knees and picked up the nearest items - the medals. The first two she recognized as purple hearts, which she knew meant he had been wounded twice in the line of duty. The third was a gold star, with a tiny silver star in the center – the phrase 'FOR GALLANTRY IN ACTION' was inscribed on the back. There were also three solid blue ribbons, a couple purple ones, and several striped ones, in all different colors. She wondered what they all meant. She snatched the box from nearby and carefully laid the medals and ribbons inside, before standing up and scurrying around the deck to gather the photos. Tears pricked her eyes, as she picked up the picture of HM and her mother. They looked so happy. How could she possibly have believed he was one of the bad guys?

What had she done?

* * *

Amy set the last of the silverware out and considered her handiwork. She was looking forward to sharing a meal with the guys. It had been far too long since she had seen them. But then, that was her own fault – her own stubborn pride keeping her from a group of men that she held very dear.

She looked up as Sydney Wilson walked through the door. She wasn't sure what to make of the brief story she had heard. Murdock was obviously smitten, which surprised Amy. Murdock was an easy touch, but the only woman she recalled him getting involved with was that vet, Kelly. That hadn't ended well.

Sydney looked at Amy uncertainly. "Hi, Amy. Do you know where –"

Hannibal strode out of the kitchen at that moment. "It's about time you resurfaced. Feeling better?"

"I've always been good at compartmentalization." She smiled at the Colonel. "It's a handy talent."

Hannibal grunted, "Maybe you can help Murdock."

Sydney's smile fled, and her striking blue eyes crinkled in obvious worry. "What happened?"

"With Richter or with Haley?"

Sydney raked both hands back through her thick hair. "Both?"

"Murdock was pissed when he realized that Richter knew you were being manipulated two years ago and didn't do anything about it," Hannibal said. "Then he went upstairs, and I could hear him and Haley getting into it. Not sure what went on, but he disappeared right after that. I'd appreciate it if you could find him and talk to him."

"I think I heard him slam into one of the back bedrooms." Amy stepped forward, anxious. "I can go get him, if you want, Hannibal."

Hannibal offered her a fleeting smile. "Thanks, Amy, but I think this is a better job for Syd. You can take a break – maybe head down to the lake."

Amy glanced at the shorter woman, vaguely irritated. Hannibal nodded, assignments complete, and walked back into the kitchen.

Syd turned to her and smiled uncertainly. "You said you heard HM go into a back bedroom?"

Amy indicated a direction. "Yes, along the back, against the ridge. There are four small bedrooms that share a bathroom. Murdock kind of liked the smaller rooms. Said they reminded him of home."

"Home?"

"At the VA."

"Oh."

"Sydney . . ."

"Yes?"

Amy set her mouth in a thin line. "Never mind." She turned and walked out the door to head down to the lake.

*

Sydney watched after Amy for a few seconds. She was getting unfriendly signals from her, and wondered what she had done to aggravate her. It bothered her because it was obvious Amy had been a good friend to the Team. She was also fairly certain there was something going on between Amy and Face. Knowing Face had crashed down at the Lake, Syd doubted that Hannibal's suggestion that Amy head down there was casual. She suspected he was hoping to throw her and Face together to get the problem hashed out. Hannibal was a sly operator.

Sydney knew she would have to set things right between herself and Amy. A chat was definitely in order, but it would have to wait. Now, she was going to find Richter and pitch her idea. Then she would do as Hannibal asked and find Murdock. There would be time later to deal with Amy Allen.

* * *

Amy took a deep breath and sighed. She had only been here once before, just before her precipitous move to Jakarta. She had thought it was lovely then, but in the turmoil surrounding the end of that visit, she had forgotten just how peaceful it was.

She recalled when Face had first suggested the Team invest in this place. Even Hannibal had been dubious. But Face's reasoning was impeccable, and he had quickly won his Team over. They had purchased the house lot, along with the surrounding 200 acres. They deeded most of the property over to the national park service with the proviso that the land remain undeveloped. They maintained ownership of a right of way to the house, along with the four acres immediately surrounding it. The arrangement ensured that the house would remain secluded.

She reached the bottom of the steps cut into the rock, and picked her way to the lake, following a rough path that came out behind the bench near the dock. She could see a pair of familiar knees jutting up over the back of the bench. She crept forward quietly, and peeked over the back of the bench to find Face, sound asleep.

She had been surprised when he called her yesterday. She was even more surprised at the involuntary betrayal of her body to the sound of his voice. Now, seeing him, she questioned just how wise it had been to come. But the Team needed her, and she knew she couldn't stay away. Regardless of what had transpired last time she was here, she still cared for Face, deeply; just as she cared for all of them.

Face hadn't stirred, yet, and she had to smile. She had never managed to sneak up on one of the Team. They all seemed to sleep with their eyes open, and their senses on high alert, no matter where they were. It was a testament to how safe he felt here that Face would let his guard down this way. She pulled a long blade of grass from a nearby clump and leaned over the bench to tickle his nose with it – hoping that by starting off on a light note she could keep things between them from becoming awkward. But before she could bring the blade close, Face's hand shot up and caught hers in a firm grip.

She gave a shriek and jerked away.

He chuckled as he sat up and smoothed his hands over his hair. "Hey, Amy. I didn't realize you were here."

"Just got here a little while ago." She walked around the bench and stood facing him, arms crossed, heart careening.

He moved over and patted the bench next to him. She hesitated and shook her head. She had already tempted fate a little too much for the day. "I've been sitting for the last few hours. I need to stretch."

The shutters dropped on his eyes. "Uh, yeah, it is a heck of drive isn't it? Small price to pay for the solitude, though. Did you have any trouble convincing Richter to tag along?"

Amy shook her head. "Honestly, I think he really cares about Murdock. He didn't even ask any questions. Made the chilly greeting he received that much more difficult. You could have warned me."

'Sorry about that. Hannibal is pretty paranoid about the entire situation. He didn't want any leaks about what we were up to, or what we suspected. Murdock wasn't too easy on the Doc, was he?"

"Wouldn't even talk to him, at first. And when he did, he was pretty harsh." Her tone was accusatory, and she knew it. She was upset with Murdock for being so vindictive to Dr. Richter after he had made the long trek to the ranch from L.A.

Face sighed. "Give him a break, Amy. He's been through a lot."

"I've never seen him like that. It was disturbing. Honestly, it makes me wonder about the woman who seems to have precipitated all of this."

"You mean Sydney?"

Amy nodded.

"Sydney Wilson is not the enemy, here, Amy." Face stood, stretched. "She's as much a victim as we were – are."

"She just seems too calm. If I was in her position, I'd be mad as hell."

"Syd's always had a good game face. Get to know her before you judge her, Ames."

Amy shrugged and turned to look out at the lake. "I forgot how beautiful it was up here. Of course, I only came here that one time . . ."

"Amy, about that . . ." Face paused for several seconds, until Amy turned to look at him. "I mean, right afterwards I wished I could take it all back. Pretend it never happened --"

Amy felt her chest constrict. "Fine, let's pretend it never happened."

*

Face had to consciously close his mouth. The words he had been about to say were stuck in his throat. He nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah. I just . . . want everything to be Ok between us, you know?"

"Right back to the way it was?" Amy's face was expressionless.

Face nodded. "Amy, I care about you --"

"But not that way."

She kept interrupting him. Face clenched his teeth in frustration. This wasn't going the way he had planned.

The dinner bell clanged. Good, a chance to re-strategize. "It's time to eat. Good thing, too. I'm starving. We skipped lunch."

Amy nodded. "You go on ahead. I'm going to take a quick walk around the pond to work up an appetite. I'll see you up there."

Face watched her walk away. Jakarta had agreed with her. She was tanned, and healthy. She wore her hair in a short, stylish cut that curled around her fine features. He took a deep breath and turned toward the path. He had screwed that up royally.

* * *

In the back hallway the windows looked out on a rock wall, making this part of the house darker than the side that looked over the lake. Sydney had heard the dinner bell, and hoped it would cause the bottomless-pit of a pilot to surface, but no such luck.

She opened the fourth door and finally found him. The room was little more than a large closet with a double bed in it. Murdock lay on his back, an arm flung over his eyes with Converse-clad feet hanging over the edge of the bed. "Go away," he grumbled as soon as the door opened.

Sydney felt a chill run up her back. She stepped in and closed the door. "I remember the last time you said that to me." Her gaze unfocused as her mind slipped back to a few weeks after the Team had escaped from the POW camp. First Lewis, and then Colonel Smith had come to see her in quarters . . .

April 6, 1971, ~1630

"What in the hell were you doing attacking a couple of grunts in the bar?"

Lew had shown up less than half an hour after she returned to her quarters from the bar. The adrenalin rush from the fight was still pulsing an excess of nervous energy through her body. "There were three and they deserved it."

'God dammit, Sydney. This is serious. The base commander wants your head on a platter and I'm tempted to give it to him. Defending the A-Team, for chrissake. They're big boys, Syd."

There was a knock at the door.

"We're busy," Lewis barked.

The door opened, and Colonel Smith stepped into the crowded room. "Morrison wants to see you, Lewis."

"Now?"

"Now."

Lewis swung toward Sydney. "The MPs are on their way to pick you up. Go with them quietly, and be on your best behavior until I can get this cluster fuck cleared up." He turned and slammed out the door.

Sydney crossed her arms. "Morrison didn't really want to see him, did he?"

"He most certainly did. About an hour ago." Smith calmly pulled out a cigar, bit off the end and lit it, the tip glowing orange in the dim light of the room. "S.A. Wilson, I understand from my Lieutenant that you and my pilot are . . . friends."

Every muscle in her body tensed. They had been very careful to keep their relationship at just friends; or at least she had. "Yes."

"And why haven't you been to visit since we returned from our vacation?"

"I was ordered to stay away."

"Well, now, I'm countermanding that order, S.A. Wilson. Your presence is requested in the infirmary."

"Lewis –"

"I'll deal with Lewis." Smith's ice-blue eyes flashed, striking in the dim light. "I'm warning you, now, girl. This isn't going to be easy. Captain Murdock refuses to communicate with anyone. We've tried everything. This is my Lieutenant's suggestion, which I'm implementing because I'm out of other ideas. I just want you to understand that you are my last resort. If you can't snap Murdock out of it, he's going section 8. He'd be grounded for life. If you're half the friend I think you are, you know that would kill him."

Sydney ground her teeth in an effort to check the tears that sprung to her eyes. Flying was Murdock's heart and soul.

She heard a jeep skid to a stop outside. "I'll do what I can, Colonel. You may have to get the base commander off my ass, first though."

She wasn't sure if the noise the Colonel made was a grunt or a chuckle. "So I heard."

No knock this time, the door slammed open and two MPs stalked in. Colonel Smith held up a hand. "Have Johnson contact me. S.A. Wilson and I have an appointment."

The MPs stopped, uncertain, but unwilling to ignore a superior officer. "Yes, sir." They saluted and left.

Smith turned and indicated the door, which still hung open. "After you, S.A. Wilson."

At the infirmary, Smith pushed the door open and indicated the farthest bed, where Murdock lay staring at the wall. Sydney forced herself to keep her expression neutral, but the sight of the wasted pilot just about broke her. He was little more than a skeleton with skin, gaunt and pale.

Face and Ray both stood from adjacent beds as she walked into the room. Like Murdock, they were far too thin. From the corner of her eye she caught movement and BA appeared at her elbow. "Hi little sister." She turned and looked at the large Sergeant. She had to stifle a gasp, he looked as wasted and thin as the others, but on him, it was more striking. He put a hand on her shoulder. "We OK. But Murdock . . ." His voice trailed off.

Face offered her a forced smile. "Hey, Syd. It's good to see you." He glanced at his friend and shook his head, worry apparent on his gaunt, but still handsome face. Murdock hadn't moved, no reaction at all to the voices, he just continued to stare at the wall.

Ray took her hands in a comforting grip and kissed her cheek. He whispered into her ear. "You can help him, Syd. I know you can." He gave her a gentle nudge toward the pilot. Smith made a gesture and they all filed out of the room.

Syd swallowed convulsively, getting her emotions under tight control. She was intimidated by the faith this group of men were placing in her. She overcame the momentary paralysis and grabbed a nearby chair. She moved it so it sat between Murdock and the wall, and sat down, gazing into empty brown eyes. "Hey, HM." She cleared her throat to loosen the knot forming there. She tried to keep her tone light. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

The eyes swiveled to look at her, less dead, but no less disturbing. He swallowed, and she leaned forward turning an ear to him as he struggled to talk. His voice came out weak and raspy. "Go away."

She looked in his eyes, her mouth set in a stubborn line. "You don't mean that."

He swallowed again, and lifted his head off the pillow. "Go away." His voice was stronger.

She crossed her arms and met his gaze. "No."

He sank back on the pillow, glaring at her. The nurse came striding through the door a moment later, carrying a tray with a pitcher of water, a glass and a straw. "I understand our patient has decided to talk today." She flashed Murdock a bright smile as she set the tray on the bedside table and filled the glass. "Some water may make that a little easier." She turned and handed the glass to Sydney with an encouraging smile before leaving them alone again.

Sydney held the glass down by HM's face and put the straw to his lips. At first she thought he was going to be stubborn and refuse the offered drink, but he finally took the straw between dry lips and took several long sips.

"If you want some more, just ask." Sydney set the glass back on the tray.

"Go away, Sydney." He was glaring at her again.

"Why?"

His jaw muscles worked, very noticeable on his sunken cheeks, but it was the shame in his eyes that caught Sydney off-guard. "Don't want you here."

Sydney let the genuine hurt she felt show on her face. "Why?"

"Go away!" He turned away from her, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Goddam stubborn flyboy." Sydney muttered. "Too fucking bad, Murdock. I'm not going anywhere. You want me to leave, get your skinny ass off that bed and try to make me."

He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. Sydney slid to her knees beside the bed. She brushed the tear away with her thumb as she put her hand on his face turning it so he had to look at her. "I'm not going anywhere, Murdock. Do you hear me? I'm staying right here." His eyes opened, and he nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

She would take what she could get.

Sydney shook herself. She had thought she'd screwed up, but she learned later that those were the first words Murdock had uttered since leaving the POW camp. The Team had been thrilled just to hear his voice. She looked at the man lying on the bed – healthy and well-fed, even if he was still skinny. She smiled. "You didn't mean it then, and I don't think you mean it now."

Murdock had lifted his arm and was squinting at her. "Syd? I thought you were Hannibal. He was up here once already looking for me."

"You tell Hannibal to 'go away' and live? I guess more has changed than I realized."

Murdock swung his legs over the side of the bed. "The line has moved south over the years. Hannibal lets us get away with a lot more now then he ever would have 15 years ago. Ask Face and BA, they'd say that's especially true with me."

Sydney chuckled. Hannibal had a definite soft spot where his remaining three men were concerned – especially his quirky pilot.

Murdock was studying her. "Are you OK, Syd?"

She crossed her arms and shrugged. "I guess. When those flashes of memory hit me, it's all too vivid. I remember how empty your eyes were, how thin you were . . ." an involuntary shudder shook her.

"I was pretty messed up. I don't know what I would've done if it hadn't been for everyone that helped me find my way back after the POW camp; you and the Team, especially, but even my old chopper crew, and Ike, and hell, even Morrison visited periodically to check up on me." Murdock shook his head. "I'm not sure what I would've done without all of the support."

"A lot of people were worried about you, that's for sure."

Murdock's eyes narrowed. "So, where did you go?"

"I climbed on top of this ridge behind the house."

"Pretty up there, isn't it? And peaceful. It's a good place to think."

Syd nodded. She had actually continued thinking all the way back down to the house. "I tried walking through the events of the day of the Bank of Hanoi job. I actually remembered a little more. I'm starting to wonder about Lewis . . ."

Murdock didn't really seem to be listening. He leaned forward, his voice sharp. "Syd, Dr. Richter said that could be dangerous!"

"All I'm doing is trying to remember what happened, how can that be dangerous?"

"Who knows what kind of screwed up memory trigger Asher planted in that pretty little head? Please don't tempt fate, sugar, especially all by yourself. I'd feel better if someone at least knew where you were and what you were up to."

Her jaw set. "Now that was condescending."

"Don't try and pull that crap on me, Sydney. I am simply expressing reasonable concern for your welfare. It may have been 15 years, but I still recognize when you're pushing. Push too hard on this front and you may just lose yourself."

"Speaking from experience?"

"It was a few years after the war before I decided reality was a safe place to live, Syd. I'm not willing to let that happen to you. I need you here with me. So does Haley."

It was only a couple steps to the bed, and Sydney dropped onto it. "How do you know I won't lose myself if I don't remember, HM? I need closure. I need to know who to trust – including myself."

She fingered the knitted afghan folded over the end of the bed. Murdock's large hand covered hers and closed around it, protective, comforting. "Dr. Richter says he thinks he can help me remember that day. Do you think that might help?"

She raised her eyes to his. "I think it might be helpful for all of us to sit down and rehash what we remember – kind of like a group therapy session. Maybe what one person mentions will spark a memory for someone else. Dr. Richter can moderate, and keep an eye on everyone to make sure nothing goes haywire."

Murdock pursed his lips, and nodded slowly. "I'm not so sure about Richter being involved, but sitting down and talking about that day probably isn't a bad idea."

Syd took a deep breath. "I already talked to Dr. Richter about it. He agreed it was worth a try." She turned to face Murdock. "You need to forgive him, HM. What happened two years ago wasn't his fault. He was told my memory was being blocked for some top secret national security bullshit reason. He admits that he didn't really believe it; that was why he acted the way he did when I went in to see him. He didn't want any part of my continuing therapy, so he made sure I wouldn't want to come back. In a way, that was probably more help then he realized."

"And did you know he's not a licensed psychiatrist, but a psychologist? Asher made sure Richter knew if he didn't cooperate that he'd make his life a living hell. I don't blame him for what happened, and neither should you. Richter is a good man, and he was caught in a no-win situation. I would think you, of all people, should understand that."

Murdock sighed. "Way to make me feel like a heel, Syd."

She reached up and kissed his cheek. Even when they sat down he towered over her. "You are the furthest thing from a heel, HM. You just tend to jump to conclusions before hearing the entire story."

Murdock stood. "My biggest concern is actually learning the entire story. But right now I'm starving, and I can't think on an empty stomach. Let's go get some chow, sugar."

Sydney took the offered hand. "We also need to talk to Haley."

Murdock grimaced. "You heard about that, too, huh?"

Syd nodded.

Murdock's jaw set. "That scares me more than the group therapy."

* * * *

Prologue to Chapter 13

Lewis gazed out the window of the airplane. The clouds had been set ablaze by the sinking sun, glowing a brilliant orange as the eastern horizon darkened to a blue-grey. He was definitely flying toward the blue-grey, at least figuratively. He didn't like it, but he was running into this one blind. There were no records of Smith's Team having any property holdings, friends or even acquaintances in the Portland, Oregon area. So where the hell had they gone?

He had the current coordinates for the phone. He had watched for some time, and it remained stationary at a small airfield just outside of Portland proper. He had a sneaking suspicion that either Haley had ditched the phone, or the Team had found it and ditched it for her.

It wasn't that he was above some old-fashioned foot work to find them, but unless he got lucky, it was going to take time. It would also expose him to scrutiny. He was already getting questioned about why he was on the west coast. He wasn't sure how much longer he could deflect the inquiries. He needed to disappear, soon. But he was reluctant to cut his losses and run while Sydney and Haley were still within reach.

Unfortunately, Sydney was proving to be more of a problem than he had anticipated. With Asher's help, he had hoped to convince her that he was the one she belonged with. Once Sydney started to remember, though, Asher had become too much of a liability. The man had no stomach for any kind of risk.

He was still hoping he could salvage the situation with Sydney, but knew that the longer it took to find her, the less likely that would become. His connection with Haley was tenuous and became more so the longer he lost contact. That damn pilot had always been a pain in his ass, and this time he was proving particularly troublesome.

The seatbelt sign blinked on. The accompanying 'ding' served as a prelude to the shuffle of passengers stowing their things and buckling up in preparation for landing.

Lewis did what any good field agent would do in his situation. He pushed other concerns aside to focus on the immediate objective of finding Sydney and Haley. He could count on his wits and cunning to handle whatever might happen along the way.

Including dealing with the people that stood between him and his objective.

CHAPTER 13: Chilling Out While Things Heat Up

Sydney hadn't realized just how many people were in the house until she and Murdock came down for dinner. Murdock introduced her to Maggie Sullivan, who had just arrived, albeit much earlier than expected. Maggie had canceled her appointments for the afternoon so she could make the long drive to the ranch. She said she was anxious to see the Team, who she affectionately referred to as 'her boys.'

Sydney liked Maggie immediately. She noted with interest that Hannibal didn't allow her to wander far from his side. Hannibal had never struck Syd as particularly touchy/feely, but he found reasons with Maggie: a hand on her arm to gain her attention; a touch at the small of her back to guide her to her seat; lips at her ear to whisper a private thought. Sydney was fascinated. Any woman who could capture the independent Colonel's fancy so totally had to be worth getting to know.

Right after overseeing Syd and Maggie's introduction, Murdock latched onto Dr. Richter. She sighed when she noticed the closed look on his face as he apologized to the doctor about his earlier outburst. Richter seemed to recognize that the apology was in words only, too – his expression forgiving but stoic. Apparently, Murdock's faith in the psychologist had been deeply shaken, and though his mind had begun the trek back to trust, his heart really wasn't in it yet.

Amy walked into the house not long after Syd and Murdock came down the stairs. She seemed to be avoiding Face like a plague. Apparently Hannibal's ploy had not worked. Face seemed unusually reserved and quiet, peaking Sydney's curiosity. Every time he looked at Amy, his expression became a little more forlorn. She had to stop herself from laughing at Face's expense. The footloose Lieutenant as a lovesick paramour bordered on hilarious.

Sydney felt herself relax as everyone drifted to their seats around the table. It was like being immersed in a sea of emotion and conflict external to herself. It was nice to allow her mind to contemplate other people and their motivations and problems for awhile, and forget about her own. Then Haley appeared.

Sydney was surprised at the obvious change in attitude of her daughter. She glanced at Murdock almost guiltily, and outright avoided Sydney's attempts to capture her attention. She slinked into the kitchen for her dinner, not even joining them at the table. It made Sydney very curious about what had transpired between Haley and Murdock earlier. She squeezed Murdock's shoulder as she excused herself from the table to follow her daughter into the kitchen.

Haley sat at the little table tucked into the corner of the kitchen, poking at a plate of food, disinterested.

Sydney stood and watched her for several seconds, hands on hips. "Are you going to come out and join us at the table?"

Haley shrugged, making a pattern with the green beans on her plate. "I'm not feeling very sociable." She glanced up at Sydney, her expression unreadable. "Where did all these people come from?"

Sydney glanced back out at the table, her ears pricked at the sound of Amy's voice asking about Haley. Haley didn't seem to be listening which was just as well. "Amy brought Dr. Richter, who is . . . was your, um . . . HM's therapist. Maggie came to collect the samples for the paternity test you requested. I think you know everyone else."

"Oh. I guess that's Ok." Haley's eyes dropped back down to her plate. Sydney was once again distracted by the conversation in the other room. She walked to the counter, tore a couple paper towels off the roll, wadded them into a ball and soaked them in the kitchen sink. She turned, took aim, and let the wad fly out the kitchen door, hitting her target. She smiled in satisfaction then turned to her daughter. "You will come out and join us at the dinner table young lady. After dinner, we'll have a little talk."

Face's voice sounded from the dining room, "Sydney!"

* * *

Amy leaned over and spoke quietly to BA as she watched Sydney disappear into the kitchen, following a girl that Amy had not yet met. "BA, who's that girl?"

"Haley? She's Syd and the crazy man's daughter," BA said matter-of-factly.

Amy gaped at him, and then turned to Murdock, who sat kitty-corner across the table from her. "Ok. I missed a big chunk of the story here, Murdock. You have a daughter? With Sydney?"

Maggie turned to the pilot, gazing across Sydney's empty seat. "You're the one I'm here to do a paternity test for? I thought for sure it was Face – no offense Face . . ."

"None taken."

Murdock glanced at the empty seat next to him, then at Maggie, before raising questioning eyes to his commanding officer, sitting at the head of the table. "I thought you told her . . ."

Hannibal grinned. "She was in the middle of morning appointments when I got hold of her. It was a bare-bones discussion. Besides, it was a bit much to cover over the phone."

Amy shook her head. "How . . . when . . ?"

Murdock shifted and shrugged. "Well, I'm guessing the how is, you know, the normal way. As for when, it was right before the end of the war --"

Face interrupted. "It was probably the day, or rather night before the Bank of Hanoi job. It was the only time they managed to get together without being interrupted by Lew."

"One time?" Maggie was incredulous.

"Actually, based on the aftermath, I'd guess several times. But only the one night." Face grinned wickedly at his friend from his place at the opposite end of the table from Amy.

Something came zinging out of the kitchen and hit Face square in the chest. He grunted and pulled the sopping wad of paper towels away from his shirt. "I can't believe she . . . Sydney!"

Hannibal chuckled. "Serves you right, Face."

"You're all wet, Lieutenant." Sydney was framed in the doorway, her eyebrows arched over a reproachful gaze. "We will discuss some of your more interesting sexual exploits later on. But at least I will have the decency to wait until Haley isn't within earshot."

Face had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry, Syd."

She walked out of the kitchen and retook her seat between Murdock and Maggie. Amy glanced across the table at Maggie, who smiled and said, "I think I like her."

Amy nodded agreement and they both burst out laughing.

*

Haley walked to the doorway and groaned inwardly. The only seat left was next to HM. That was the last place she wanted to sit. She walked hesitantly to the empty chair and set her plate on the table. HM looked up at her. "You want me to trade seats with your mom?"

Haley noted with some relief that he didn't appear to be angry with her, though his gaze wasn't exactly friendly either. She glanced at her mother, whose look told her she better not push her luck. "No, it's alright. I'll sit here."

She slid into the seat, glancing shyly at the distinguished man on her other side. He smiled at her sympathetically. "Hello, Haley. I'm Allen Richter. It's nice to meet you."

She returned the smile. "It's nice to meet you, too." It was a relief to know she had at least one friend at the table.

HM introduced her to Amy and Maggie, who were both very nice. Eventually, even her mother loosened up. Regardless of her misgivings when she first sat down, Haley enjoyed dinner. She hadn't been so sure about all the people, but quickly decided she liked it. The banter around the table was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It had always only been her and her mother. Even when Mom was seeing that Joe, the detective on the Chicago PD, it had only added one to their table. This was more like having a huge extended family.

In fact, she decided it was very cool.

* * *

"Frankie and Face have dishes," Hannibal announced. "The rest of you are on your own. I think Murdock cut enough wood for us to have a fire pit, tonight, and it doesn't look like it's going to get too cold. Enjoy your evening, because tomorrow the real work begins."

Hannibal caught Richter by the arm as everyone was leaving the dining room. "Doctor, I'd like a word."

"Please call me Allen, Colonel."

"Ok, Allen. We need to discuss this proposal of Sydney's. I'm not sure I'm all that enamored of the idea. What's the risk to my men? To Sydney?"

"It's difficult to say for certain."

"Well than how about some conjecture. I want to understand what I'm agreeing to."

As they talked, Hannibal led Richter through the living room and into the study just beyond. He opened the humidor on the desk and offered Richter a cigar, which he accepted. They sat in armchairs, each puffing thoughtfully.

Richter blew a long stream of smoke. "I think the greatest risk is to Ms. Wilson. But honestly, the group therapy setting she has suggested is probably the safest place for her to continue. I think it is obvious she is going to pursue recovery of her memory regardless of my warnings. She is a rather headstrong young woman."

Hannibal chuckled. "Always has been. You know Murdock as well as I do, Allen. It would take a headstrong woman to deal with him effectively."

Allen smiled. "Murdock is a unique individual. I wonder sometimes just where reality and fantasy diverge in the person I've come to know over the years. He's still an enigma to me, Colonel."

"And to me, Doctor. But one that I feel very fortunate to call a friend."

Richter stared at the smoldering tip of his cigar. "I'm not sure I still have that privilege."

Hannibal considered the therapist through narrowed eyes. "If you are sincere about regaining Murdock's trust, then you had better not betray it again. No offense, Doctor, but I think Syd's cutting you a lot of slack. We make it through this group session with her mind intact and my opinion may change. Until then, know that not only is Murdock watching every move you make, but so am I. Don't blow it."

Hannibal stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Richter to think about what he said.

* * *

Sydney led the way into Haley's room and held the door while Haley walked in, followed closely by Murdock. She crossed her arms and faced them. "I have been trying to figure out what to say to make this all better." She waved a hand between the two of them. "Unfortunately, I seem to be fresh out of wisdom to impart. So, I'm just gonna leave you two to work it out yourselves, while I go downstairs and . . . relax by the fire." She turned and walked out, closing the door behind herself.

Murdock felt his jaw drop and had to consciously close his mouth. That was about the last thing he expected. Work it out, huh? He slowly turned to face Haley.

They stared at each other silently for several seconds, before Haley abruptly turned away. When she turned back, she held out his box. "I think everything is in here."

He hesitated, but did reached out and take it from her. It didn't matter how many times it happened, Haley's flip-flops in attitude toward him continued to throw him off-balance. He stared at the box, trying to figure out what to say.

"I'm really sorry about earlier, HM." Haley looked at him steadily. "I don't really think that you . . . you know, did all those horrible things."

He tilted his head and peered at her, trying to decide if she was being sincere, as she shifted from foot to foot, obviously nervous. He really just couldn't tell. He turned and walked to the desk in the room. He set the box on it and stared at it, gathering his thoughts. Finally, Murdock turned, crossed his arms and fixed Haley with a narrow gaze. "Really?"

She took a step toward him. "I was just . . . angry. I'm sorry, really."

Murdock took a deep breath and blew it out. "Ok, I'm invoking the honesty pact. Your mom is right, we gotta get this hashed out, Haley. Quite honestly, I can't take a whole lot more."

"I'm sor –"

"Yeah, you're sorry. You were sorry yesterday, too."

"If it helps, I've apologized to Mom tons of times."

A bark of laughter escaped him. "Maybe, but did you ever accuse her of cold-blooded murder or rape?"

Haley cast her eyes down. "No."

"Alright. So, I'm gonna be straight with you. Did I run drugs? The uncensored truth is 'yes.' I was young and stupid and in way, way over my head."

Haley looked up at him, eyes wide. "Really?" She considered that for a few seconds. "What made you quit? You . . . have quit, right?"

"Yes, a long time ago. I don't touch alcohol anymore, either. It's just better that way. As for why I quit . . ."

Murdock turned and opened the box. He rummaged for a few seconds, then held out a photo of himself and four other men next to a helicopter.

Haley pointed to one of the men in the photo. "Hey, that guy is wearing a jacket just like yours."

"That is my jacket. That guy was my peter pilot. He was killed on an extraction flight – took a round through the side of the chopper. I managed to get him back to base, but he didn't make it."

Haley's face had paled. "How did he make you quit?"

"He's why I quit. Petey was a great kid, gung ho, and naïve as all get out. He was also a boy scout. He said I'd be the best pilot in 'Nam if I'd lay off the drugs. Kept at me about it constantly. The day he was killed . . ." Murdock took a deep breath, swallowing. "I was just coming down when we went in the air. We made the extraction point, no problem, and I was feeling pretty cocky. Then when we lifted off all hell broke loose. I saw the flash of the gunfire, but my evasive maneuvers were just a little too slow. Were the drugs the reason for it? I'll never know, but I can't help but think that they certainly contributed."

Murdock hoped his look passed for stern – lecturing was something new to him. "Just for the record, I learned that drugs are not the way to cope. I ever hear you're doing them I'll turn you over my knee, I don't care how old you are. Understood?"

Haley pursed her lips and nodded. They stood facing each other in silence for several long seconds, both shifting, uneasy.

Haley looked up at him. "What about . . . never mind."

"No, ask away, I want everything out in the open."

"What about the murder the Team was convicted of? Were you involved?"

"The guys didn't kill Morrison. They were in Hanoi. I dropped them off myself." He began pacing. "I wish I could say for sure I didn't have anything to do with it, but I truly don't know. I remember dropping the Team off, and starting back to base to check in at HQ. After that . . .." Murdock shook his head.

"You don't remember?"

"Not a damn thing. I don't even really remember picking the Team back up at the rendezvous, though I know I did. Nope, it's pretty much a blank until several days later, when I woke up in a secured psych facility just outside LA. Locked in a six by six cell."

"That's awful."

Murdock shrugged. "I didn't think so at the time. It was clean, dry, and nobody was trying to shoot me. It was huge improvement over the previous few years."

"Oh." Haley was quiet for a few seconds. "How long?"

"I was in that facility for about a year. They moved me to the VA after my doctor at the time convinced them that I wasn't a danger to myself, or anyone else."

"A whole year in a six by six cell?" Haley looked appalled.

"Yeah, made my accommodations at the VA feel spacious."

They were quiet for several seconds again, though Murdock thought that perhaps the silence was more companionable this time.

"HM, can I ask you a few questions? Nothing . . . bad. I'm just curious about some things in the box."

"Sure, go ahead."

She indicated the box hesitantly. "Do you mind?"

"Be my guest. Not like you haven't seen everything in there."

She lifted the pictures out and set them aside, carefully. She pulled out the Purple Heart medals and set them aside. Then she took out the Silver Star medal. "I know what the Purple Hearts mean, but what did you do to get this one?"

Murdock stared at the Silver Star. He took it from Haley's hands and dropped it back into the box. "Nothing."

"But it says 'For gallantry in action' – that sounds like something?"

He shook his head. "Who knows, Haley? One person's hero is another person's average joe. I didn't do anything any one of us wouldn't have done."

Haley picked up the pile of ribbons. "Ok, then, what about these?"

Murdock grimaced. Hannibal would kill him if he saw how he was keeping his ribbons. "Those are like . . . I guess kind of like a code that we wear on our uniform that basically summarizes our service record."

He picked up two purple ribbons. "Like these represent my two Purple Hearts." He laid them out and picked up a blue and white striped ribbon, with a red strip in the center. "This represents my silver star. Like that."

Haley picked up three solid blue ribbons outlined in gold. "What about these?"

"P.U.C., uh - Presidential unit citations."

"The others –"

"They mean all different things . . ." He picked up ribbons and spoke quickly. "Vietnam Service, Air, POW . . ." He scooped them all up and dropped them in the box. "It's all history, Haley. That's all it is."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I was just curious."

"You didn't upset me, kiddo. It's just . . . it's like wearing your freaking life on your chest. I always hated the damn things."

"So, do you ever wear them anymore?"

"Only if I put on my uniform for some formal event – like a funeral –"

"Or a wedding?"

"Yeah."

Haley looked at him curiously. "What about the ring? It must be pretty important. It's the only thing you picked up."

'That's not in the box."

"But it was. Remember – you invoked the honesty pact." Haley crossed her arms.

Murdock sighed and reached into a pocket, pulling out the ring box. "You mean this one?"

"Is there another one?"

Murdock shook his head and dropped it into the box. He gathered up the other items and added them as well before closing the lid. "Face got that ring for me."

Haley raised an eyebrow. "Are you two like, engaged or something?"

"Very funny."

"Well then, who was it for?"

"Your mother."

Haley nodded, as if she had expected that answer. "It is an engagement ring, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. I never got a chance to ask her, though." He felt a catch in his throat and swallowed. Every time he thought about it, the reminder of 15 lost years nearly overwhelmed him.

Haley's eyes were welled up, too, and Murdock had to look away. The broken sound of her voice nearly did him in. "You . . . were going to ask her to marry you."

"Yes." He cleared his throat and gritted his teeth. "That was before everything went all to hell."

"You would have been my father –"

Murdock chuckled, and took a firm grip on his emotions. "I would have been married to your mother. Biologically-speaking I may still be your father."

Haley blinked and smiled, though Murdock thought he caught a slight quiver of her chin. "True. Maggie's here. Maybe we should go down and get that over with."

Murdock nodded. "After you."

As they started down the stairs, Haley looked back at him, a sly smile on her face, and Murdock's defenses went on high alert. "So, are you moving into Mom's room?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Well . . . uh, I guess that depends on what you are comfortable with."

"What I'm comfortable with didn't seem to matter this afternoon." The smile on Haley's face took some of the sting out of the words.

"Well, that was then . . . and this is now."

Haley shrugged. "I don't know. Do you intend to use that ring in the near future?"

Murdock's jaw dropped, "I, um, well –"

"I'm just wondering. I mean, Mom has always advised me not to engage in pre-marital sex. But I suppose if you intend to marry her, then that's alright." She turned at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

Murdock considered Haley for a few seconds before responding. "You are just a tad manipulative, you know that?"

A smile broke across her face, and there was no mistaking the teasing gleam in her eyes. "Mom says the same thing." She turned and bounced out to the deck. Murdock shook his head and followed. She had his head spinning. While he enjoyed a challenge, this was unlike anything he had ever faced before.

Teenaged girls were definitely scary.

* * *

Sydney glanced up from her beer as Haley strolled onto the deck, looking for all intents and purposes as if she hadn't a care in the world. Murdock followed, looking bemused, but happy. She prayed silently that the worst of the drama was over. Knowing Haley, she figured that was a vain hope. At least things seemed to have calmed down, providing a respite, however brief.

Murdock dropped into the empty seat next to her, looking slightly shell-shocked. She touched his arm. "Are you alright?"

"We're fine," Haley answered off-handedly. "Hey, is there any pop in the fridge?"

"Yes, go help yourself," Face said.

Haley headed back toward the house, but stopped in front of Murdock. "Want anything, HM?"

"Hit me with a Dew, kiddo. Thanks."

Haley disappeared into the house.

Murdock didn't look at her, but Sydney knew he was talking to her. "She is a total smart ass, just like her mother."
Sydney had been taking a long draw on her beer, and snorted it out her nose. She picked up a napkin and wiped her face before turning to Murdock, who was laughing at her. "You have to be kidding me. She is so much like you it's disturbing. Talk about a long term nature versus nurture experiment – nature wins hands down. You ask me, the paternity test is a waste. All it's going to do is confirm the obvious."

BA snorted. "She ain't kiddin'. No doubt that girl is the crazy man's."

Hannibal raised his beer. "Here, here!"

"I agree," Face said.

Haley appeared at Murdock's side holding two Mountain Dews and handed him one. "What are you agreeing to?"

They all chorused, "Never mind."

* * *

Allen stood out on the upper veranda at the end of the house. The view was peaceful, the evening breeze fresh and invigorating, but he felt old and useless. He could hear the murmur of voices on the deck below. He knew everyone else in the house was out there, but he wasn't sure he felt welcome. Murdock may have apologized this evening, but Allen could tell that he had not really forgiven. Truthfully, he couldn't blame his patient. He had been a coward two years ago. Losing Murdock's trust was his punishment.

He felt a real connection to Murdock, from the first time he met him. It wasn't long before he realized just what an impression the quirky, intelligent pilot made on everyone around him. Though he never mentioned it to Murdock, he suspected that Lieutenant Peck made a habit of breaking into his home office to check up on Murdock's progress in therapy. There were also the regular phone calls from the General requesting a status of the Captain's ongoing treatment. Yes, Murdock had a lot of people looking out for him.

The General would be wondering why Allen hadn't called, as promised. Though Allen knew the Team was trying to keep a low profile by being in this location, he couldn't imagine that they would deny at least a brief update to an old friend of Murdock's family.

He slipped back into his bedroom through the private veranda entrance. His room was adjacent, but not adjoining, to Sydney's. He opened his bag and rummaged to the bottom, pulling out a small black bag. Inside was a box, with a hand set attached to it by a coiled chord. He took the satellite setup over to the desk and plugged it into the wall; then punched in the telephone code the General had provided. There was quite a bit of static on the line, but very little delay in pickup. The General himself, answered.

*

"Dr. Richter, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to call." General Hunt Stockwell sat in the office of his jet, currently resting on a private air strip just outside of Scappoose, Oregon. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that the A-Team had changed their destination from Crystal Lake. He smiled at the naiveté of Colonel Smith, thinking that he could elude him so easily.

"Sorry, General. It's been a hectic couple days."

"Where are you, Doctor?"

"I'm not really sure, General. Somewhere off US-97 in Oregon. The Team is holed up on a ranch somewhere in the Cascades. It's pretty remote."

Stockwell glanced back at Carla, who was busy triangulating off the doctor's signal. Noise in the satellite relays was causing a delay in the processing. Carla shook her head, indicating she hadn't yet pinpointed the Team's exact location.

"And how is my partner's son fairing, Doctor? Given recent events, I was reluctant to allow him to travel with the Team until I heard that they planned to contact you for help. I trust all is going well?"

"As well as can be expected. Murdock is quite agitated, and there have been some complications in my situation, but hopefully we'll be able to make progress. We'll begin a group session tomorrow with the entire Team, in an attempt to help jog Murdock's and Ms. Wilson's memories. Right now, Murdock seems fine, and I will be keeping a close eye on both him and Ms. Wilson. I really think the risk to Murdock is minimal, but he may remember some things that he has been blocking for over a decade. I am concerned about Ms. Wilson, though."

"Why is that?" Stockwell was becoming agitated himself. It shouldn't take this long for Carla to get a fix on Richter's location.

"I believe Dr. Asher was manipulating Sydney Wilson for years utilizing advanced hypnotherapy. There is no predicting what types of post-hypnotic triggers he may have implanted. We will be walking through a mental mine-field in the young woman's psyche. But she is adamant about pursuing recovery of her memory. I'll do what I can to help her, but I'm very uncomfortable with the entire exercise."

"Do your best, Doctor. I know, as well as you do, how devastating it would be to Captain Murdock if anything were to happen to her."

"Oh, I'm well aware of the connection between them, General." Richter yawned audibly. "I am going to call it a night. I need my rest. I anticipate that tomorrow will be a trying day."

"But hopefully a successful one. Please, keep me posted."

"Good night."

Stockwell hung up the phone and turned to Carla. "Did you get a lock?"

Carla brought a map over to the General's desk, with a red circle centered in the middle of the Cascade mountain range. "I managed to narrow their location to a 100-mile radius. Something seemed to be bouncing the signal periodically, so that I couldn't get any more accurate."

"I would hardly call over thirty one thousand square miles 'narrow,'" Stockwell said derisively.

"The area is actually much smaller than that since we can rule out the coastal areas and the ocean itself." Carla put x's through portions of the circled area.

"Richter said they were in the Cascades somewhere off US-97. He said it was remote, so that rules out the Portland area." Stockwell took Carla's pen and traced the portion of US-97 that ran through the circled area. "See what you can do to modify the algorithm so we can get the area pared down to something manageable the next time the good doctor calls. And have Able 8 file flight plans to at least get us a little closer to our goal – looks like Sisters is a fairly centralized location."

Carla walked out to follow the General's orders, leaving Stockwell to brood over Richter's latest report. Until a year ago, he had called Allen Richter routinely merely to assuage a lingering sense of indebtedness to his dead partner Harley Mathias Murdock. After all, someone had to watch out for Harley's wayward son. But a year ago, he thought perhaps someone was watching out for him. The opportunity to put the A-Team on Stockwell Enterprises payroll was too good to pass up. Now Murdock's and Wilson's pasts were catching up to them, and he was torn about whether to cut his losses and run, or stick it out, and keep a long-ago promise to a man who had saved his life more than once.

In the final analysis duty won. Well, that and the prospect of retaining the A-Team's services. Harley's boy was a pain in the ass, but his talent certainly couldn't be denied. Like father, like son. Stockwell's connection to HM Murdock had definitely proved a windfall for his faltering spy-for-hire organization. Maybe, when all was said and done, he would be able to persuade Murdock and Wilson both to join his organization. That would be a coup. A couple like that working international espionage would be worth their weight in gold.

He just had to find them.

* * * *

CHAPTER 14: The Sand Man Cometh

Hannibal stood and stretched. "It's getting late, folks. I think it's time to hit the hay. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Haley was the first to move. She stopped in front of Sydney and Murdock, and sighed. "Mom's out, HM."

Murdock smiled. "I know. She's been asleep for awhile. Don't worry about it, kiddo. I'll get her into bed."

"Ok. Good night, HM."

"G'night, Haley."

"Good night everyone," Haley said with a wave of her hand as she disappeared into the house.

Maggie kissed Hannibal on the cheek. "I'll see you upstairs."

Hannibal nodded. He watched as everyone wandered inside and upstairs. Everyone except Murdock and Sydney.

Murdock was staring at Syd, and something in his expression made Hannibal stop and take a closer look. Syd's face was slack with sleep, her head tilted to one side. She had her long, thick hair pulled back in a head band so her face was clearly visible, without the usual mass of hair obscuring any part of it. Syd had broad facial features, large eyes and a square jaw with a generous mouth that took up half her face when she smiled. Though certainly not a classic beauty, Syd was attractive in a down-home, comfortable way.

Hannibal recalled when he first met her, wondering what the hell the Company was thinking. Call him old fashioned, but a woman in combat seemed like a bad idea. Medical staff was one thing, but a field agent that went into hot zones was something else entirely. He had been very skeptical about their newest contact with the CIA, but it hadn't taken her long to win his admiration and respect. As it turned out, he wasn't the only one to underestimate her. Sydney could enter places and learn things that her male counterparts couldn't – precisely because she was a woman.

Hannibal's attention turned to his pilot, who still stared at Sydney, his eyes fixed and unblinking. "Is something wrong, Murdock?"

He moved closer, and felt his concern mount. Every muscle in his pilot's body was taught, like a wire about to snap . "Murdock!"

Murdock flinched, and slowly turned his eyes to Hannibal, who felt a sinking feeling looking into an all-too-familiar haunted expression. "What is it, Captain?" He spoke sharply, an order, knowing that Murdock tended to act out of habit.

"I saw her that day." Hannibal had to strain to hear Murdock, who squinted as if trying to see something more clearly. "She was . . . bald, kind of, staked to the floor, on her stomach . . . naked . . . bloody." His voice caught on the last words.

Sydney reached out and touched Murdock's arm. Hannibal hadn't even realized she was awake, focused as he was on his obviously-distressed pilot.

Murdock flinched again, and turned toward her. "I'm right here, HM, and I'm fine. It's Ok."

Murdock shook his head, his jaw muscles working, his expression self-loathing. "No, it's not. How could I leave you there like that?"

"You are doing it again, Captain," Sydney kept her tone light and calm, soothing. "You are drawing conclusions on one small snippet of memory."

Sydney looked up at Hannibal and nodded toward the house. Hannibal turned and strode inside. She was right. They would need Richter. Murdock was obviously on the verge of a melt-down. It came on so suddenly.

Inside Hannibal found Face just starting up the stairs. "Lieutenant, get Richter and Maggie down here, now. Murdock is having an episode. I don't want to leave Sydney out there alone for too long."

*

Face didn't ask any questions. He took the remaining steps two at a time. He found Maggie in her robe, in the Colonel's suite. "Hannibal needs you downstairs. Better take your medical bag, and tranquilizers, if you brought them."

Next, he knocked on Richter's door. When there wasn't an immediate answer, he opened the door and walked in. "Doctor, we need you down on the deck. Murdock's having an episode."

Richter threw the covers back and got out of bed, pajamas and hair rumpled from restless sleep. "What happened?"

Face shrugged. "I don't know, but Hannibal looked pretty shook . . ." His attention was diverted by the phone revealed by the light streaming in from the hallway. He walked over and jerked the plug out of the wall. "What the hell are you doing with this?"

Richter turned from putting on a robe. "It's a satellite phone, for making calls."

"No shit," Face ground out. "And who would you be calling?"

Richter hesitated and Face had to check himself to keep from lashing out at the man. They didn't have time for this right now. Murdock was his first priority. He waved a hand at the door, his voice tight. "You better get down there. We'll talk about this later."

Richter disappeared out the door. Face picked up the phone assembly and went to BA's room. The large Sergeant appeared immediately when he knocked. "What's goin' on?"

"We have a couple issues." Face held out the satellite phone assembly. "And something is up with Murdock. I think you should come back downstairs."

BA took the phone, his mouth set in a hard line. "Let's go."

* * *

Sydney was vaguely aware that people were reassembling on the deck. She had swung her legs to the side of the lounge and taken both of Murdock's hands in hers. He finally turned and faced her, his knees jutting up on either side of her, their hands clasped in her lap. "Whatever happened, HM, it isn't your fault. I am certain of that. You have to stop this line of reasoning. It's just self-destructive."

Murdock's breathing was shallow, and he didn't meet her eyes. "I'm just frozen there . . . why . . ."

Richter broke in, his voice calm, but firm. "Look around you, Murdock. What else do you see?"

Murdock's eyes swiveled, seeing things that only he could see. "Morrison." He sucked air, looking even guiltier than before. "He's dead."

Richter didn't allow him time to contemplate the possibilities. "What else do you see?"

"We're in a bunker. No windows. Someone else is here . . ."

"Who is it?"

A few breathless moments passed. Murdock's face cleared marginally, and he looked from Sydney to the other Team members, his gaze finally resting on Hannibal. "I didn't kill Morrison. Lewis did." Murdock's shoulders relaxed.

Sydney's insides were somersaulting and she swallowed to keep from throwing up. If Lewis was there; if he killed Morrison; why the hell hadn't he stepped forward when the Team was first accused? For that matter, why, when he knew about Morrison's orders regarding the Hanoi job, hadn't he stepped forward 15 years ago?

*

Hannibal let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Murdock as Morrison's murderer had always been a possibility, and one that made far too much sense, especially now. But Lewis as the murderer was equally as disturbing. His gaze moved to the petite woman sitting beside his pilot. From the look on her face, he knew she was thinking along the same lines he was. Jeremy Lewis was at least partially responsible for this mess.

He clamped the stub of his cigar between his back teeth and ground them in anger. He had Jeremy Lewis in his sites, and the asshole wasn't going to get away this time. He would make damn sure of that.

Murdock's gaze focused back on Sydney. "What's wrong, Syd?" Hannibal was gratified to see that he seemed to be coming back to himself.

She sucked in air through clenched teeth. "If Lewis was there, why didn't he step forward when the Team was brought up on charges?"

Hannibal grunted. "I'm wondering the same damn thing. Unless he had something to hide."

Sydney nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. "I'm guessing he did." She stood up. "I think I've had about all the remembering I can take for tonight."

Face held up a hand. "We have one other minor problem . . ."

"What is it Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked.

Face turned accusing eyes on Dr. Richter, who stepped forward. "I'm afraid I must have broken protocol. Lieutenant Peck found a satellite phone in my room."

"BA's taking a look at it now." Face's jaw was clenched.

Hannibal flexed his hands. "Damn it. We're slipping. Didn't somebody check the Doctor's bags when he came in?"

"I didn't think about it." Murdock gave Hannibal a guilty look.

Hannibal walked up to Richter, and spoke in a low tone. "Did you call anyone?"

"Only General Stockwell."

"What? How do you know Stockwell?"

"General Hunt Stockwell was concerned about Captain Murdock coming out here with you, and wanted me to provide an update on how he was faring . . ."

Hannibal snorted. "Stockwell was worried . . . about Murdock?"

Richter's brow furrowed. "Well, of course. He's always kept track of his progress over the years . . ."

Murdock launched out of his chair, staring at Richter like he had just sprouted another head. "What do you mean he's tracked my progress over the years?"

"Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned that." Richter pursed his lips. "He always asked me to keep his interest in you a secret, but I assumed after you moved out to Langley, that he had told you --"

Hannibal interrupted the Doctor. "Let me get this straight. Stockwell has been following Murdock's case for – how long?"

"General Stockwell contacted me about reviewing the Captain's case 12 years ago. He asked me if I would be willing to take him on as a patient. After meeting you, I agreed. Your case was really quite fascinating."

Sydney shrugged. "Stockwell had shown an interest in you before that, HM. I told you he was the one who requested the op to investigate your activities."

Murdock shook his head. "But why?"

"General Stockwell hasn't spoken to you about this, Murdock?" Richter asked.

"The General barely gives me the time of day. Usually, my presence just irritates him."

"Like you don't do that on purpose." Face smirked, causing Murdock to smile.

Richter sighed. "Well, I don't know that it's my place to tell you. Honestly, I assumed you already knew. Your father was the General's partner, I believe in the CIA, though he has always been rather vague about the details. As I understand, your father saved the General's life more than once. He was killed during a mission, and asked General Stockwell to make sure his family was taken care of."

Hannibal looked at his pilot, whose initial shock slowly dissolved into a sneer, accompanied by a low rumbling in his throat. The rumbling developed into a chuckle which built in intensity until his whole body convulsed with laughter. Sydney put a hand on his shoulder. From her expression Hannibal could tell that she couldn't decide whether to laugh with the pilot, or slap him back to his senses. "Are you Ok?"

Murdock swiped at his face and took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. "Yeah, yeah. I'm great. Just terrific." He stood up and grinned at Sydney. "I mean, just imagine how fucked up my life would be if the General weren't lookin' out for me!" He dissolved into laughter again.

Hannibal snorted. Murdock always did have a sick sense of humor. At least he could laugh about it. "Well, we may just get a chance to find out from the horses mouth. Since I'm assuming the General triangulated our position off the Doctor's call." Murdock's laughter died in his throat.

BA appeared in the door, a smug smile on his face. "No way. I've checked the signal strength and freak. The jammers and signal bouncers we installed pry didn't work perfect, but I think they kept him from getting a close location. No way the General got nearer'n about 50 square miles."

Hannibal's smile mirrored his Sergeant's. "Nice, BA. Very nice." His gaze became icy as he turned to Richter. "That's strike two, Allen. One more and you're out. I trust you understand."

*

Richter gritted his teeth. Every step he took seemed to land on an invisible land mine of information. Who the hell was Stockwell? "I didn't think it would be a problem. It was just one call to someone that I have always believed to be a friend of Murdock's."

"Well you've been misinformed." Hannibal accentuated each point with a jab of his cigar. "Let me straighten you out, Doctor. Whatever Stockwell said his interest is in Murdock, he's no friend of the Team. He's useful at times, but I don't trust him. Any more than I trust you right now. Contact with the General is hereby severed."

Richter watched as Hannibal strode off the deck. Each person who followed cast a wary gaze the doctor's way, and with each, Richter's feeling of isolation increased.

Everyone except Sydney, who was the last to leave the deck. She made a point of patting his arm as she walked by. "They'll get over this, Allen."

"Thank you." He watched as his one ally exited.

He no longer trusted what he thought he knew. No more assumptions about what was right and wrong. If there was any question, whatsoever, he would talk to Hannibal. He had to rebuild that trust. Unfortunately, with the sessions scheduled to start tomorrow morning, he feared it was already too late.

Left alone on the deck, he walked to the railing, and reflected again on the tranquil backdrop to all the turmoil in this house. He turned and looked at the cooling embers of the fire. It was the perfect setting for the difficult task tomorrow. The Team might not trust him, but they felt comfortable and safe here.

Dr. Allen Richter nodded, and hoped beyond hope that that would be enough to ensure success tomorrow. Otherwise, he might be swinging at his final strike.

* * *

Sydney stopped on her way to her own bedroom and tapped on Haley's door. Murdock followed closely, a hand at the small of her back. He was glad to see Syd smile when Haley's head popped out of the room, despite the tension of the last half hour. "What was going on out there? I thought everybody was going to bed?"

Murdock grimaced. His own reactions to recent revelations had been less than . . . sane. He just finally got Haley nodding the right direction; did they need to dispel the illusion of normality so soon?

He wanted to kiss Sydney in gratitude as she answered, "HM remembered a few things. Looks like my partner may have been party to whatever was going on. We'll learn more tomorrow, but for tonight, it's definitely time for sleep." She yawned as if to make her point. Murdock couldn't help himself, he yawned, too.

Haley smiled, and her eyebrows traveled up her forehead. "So, are you both sleeping next door?"

"Yes," Sydney said. "I'm locking the door, but if you need anything, all you have to do is knock. Ok?"

"Ok. Just keep it down, huh?" Haley ducked into her room and closed the door.

Sydney leaned in and talked loudly at the door. "I'm confiscating that collection of Harlequin when we get home, young lady."

Murdock took her elbow and led her next door. "Just be glad she's gotten over the anger phase, Syd. Don't push our luck, huh?"

"I'll push her luck." Sydney muttered as she followed him into the room.

Murdock locked the door and felt himself start to relax. He smiled at Sydney's sour expression. "And she'll push your buttons. And mine."

Syd looked at him, and her face softened. "You're right."

"Of course I am. We should get naked and have wild and passionate sex. That will show her." The truth was, he thought that might be just the ticket for getting to sleep tonight. His mind was stubbornly refusing to shut down, and he needed a distraction.

"We aren't going to show her anything. She obviously already knows far more than she should!"

He pursed his lips. "But will you show me?"

Syd smiled. "Maybe. If you promise not to behave."

Murdock grinned. That was just what he wanted to hear. "You got it, sugar!" He reached forward and cupped her butt.

Syd slipped out of his reach. "First, though, I am going to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. You know, act more like an adult than a hormonal teenager." She disappeared into the bathroom.

Murdock frowned. "That doesn't include putting on pajamas, does it? I mean, that would be a real big waste of time."

"Get ready for bed, Captain."

Murdock stripped down to his shorts. He rummaged in his duffle, which he had brought in the room earlier in the afternoon. He found his toothbrush and joined Sydney in the bathroom. She stood in front of the far bathroom sink wearing cotton bikini underwear and a tank top. He noted with a happy smile that she had discarded her bra. She had finished brushing her teeth and was now washing her face.

He went to the adjacent sink and brushed his teeth. He rinsed his brush and stood up. "All set. How about you?" His eyes traveled down from her wide blue eyes to where drops of water had wetted the front of her tank top, making it tantalizingly translucent. He edged behind her and put his arms around her waist, pressing his hands flat against her stomach and sliding them down the front of her legs.

Sydney picked up a towel and dried her face. Murdock looked up into the mirror and smiled as her hardening nipples became evident through the thin fabric of her shirt. Sliding one hand lower still, Murdock probed between her legs, while his other hand wandered back up under her shirt, cupping one breast in his hand. Sydney's eyes closed, and her lips parted.

He leaned his head down and dropped feathery kisses from her shoulder to her neck, until he could feel the rapid beating of her heart under his lips. His own heart responded in kind, and he shifted to allow his stiffening member to become erect, pressing it against her as he pulled her tighter against himself.

"We need to move this into the bedroom and lock the door." Sydney's voice was breathless as she moved reluctantly out of his embrace and toward the bedroom.

He followed, though the break in contact allowed his mind to re-engage, cooling his desire as disturbing images began to replay. He closed the bathroom and locked the door. He moved into Sydney's arms, allowing her present image to crowd the former memories out of his head. He ran his hands up her back, pulling her against him. He felt resistance, her body refusing to bend to mold itself to his. He pulled back, moving his hands to her shoulders and rubbing muscles that felt like stretched cords. "Whoa, sugar, you are one tense little chicky."

Syd rolled her head. "Guess my back and legs are a little sore and tight. Probably that hike up the ridge."

"Lay down. I'll give you a back rub."

"I won't turn that down." Syd stripped off her top and slipped her panties down and kicked them into the corner before dropping onto the bed. She wriggled into a comfortable position.

Murdock definitely liked the idea of a naked backrub, and obligingly removed his boxers before kneeling on the bed next to Sydney. He ran a hand lightly over her back, noting the silvery scars that were still visible. Images of Sydney staked to the floor threatened to overwhelm him again.

"Are you Ok?" Sydney's voice broke into his thoughts, and scattered the disturbing memories to the wind. He leaned down and kissed her ear. "I'm fine. Are you ready?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. He began kneading her back, focusing on her profile, partially obscured by a mass of honey-colored hair. When he moved up to her shoulders he swung a leg over her back, and centered himself, so he could rub her shoulders and neck without twisting. He could feel Sydney relax under his manipulation, even as he hardened.

By the time he was done with her neck and shoulders, he was fully erect. He placed his hands on her now-relaxed shoulders and leaned down to kiss the back of her neck. He slid his hands along her outstretched arms as he extended his body along hers, his hips sliding just below hers as he enclosed her hands in his own. He had to concentrate to keep himself in check as he began to move forward, his penis slipping between her legs.

*

Pressure, pain, her hands burning in their restraints, she struggled, and suddenly her hands were free. She pulled them under herself, pushing up to get that animal off of her. Sydney scrambled to a sitting position, knees pulled to her chest, blue eyes wide with fear.

"Syd?" a familiar voice reached her from somewhere outside her tunneled vision. She flexed her muscles and was surprised by the lack of pain. She looked down at her wrists, currently clamped like a vice around her knees, and noted that there was no evidence of friction burns. Looking outside herself, she realized that she was in a bedroom.

Her gaze finally fell on Murdock, kneeling in front of her on the bed, brown eyes tight with concern. She took several deep breaths, until it felt like her heart might actually stay where it belonged in her chest. She remembered the offered back rub, and how relaxing it had been having his hands rubbing her tense shoulders. She had actually drifted off to a light sleep. The pressure on her back had been him, not . . . who? She shivered, the memory was vivid, but vague.

Murdock looked stricken. "Sugar, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Sydney mentally chided herself: he didn't need to deal with her problems after this evening. She had to make HM understand that this wasn't his fault. "You didn't hurt me. I just . . . I think the back rub is over."

She cursed at the quiver in her voice. She had to pull it together. She consciously released the grip on her wrists, grimacing at the red imprints of fingers on her skin. She uncoiled and slipped her feet under the covers.

Murdock watched her, his gaze uncertain. Sydney settled her face into what she hoped was a smile, though she couldn't seem to control the slight tremor that still sounded in her voice. "I'm Ok, really. But no more back rub. Just . . . come hold me."

He stood from the bed and turned the lights off before joining her between the sheets. He slid close and folded her into his arms. "What was it, sugar? What did I do wrong?"

Sydney laid her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. She pressed closer to him. "You didn't do anything wrong, HM." Sydney licked dry lips, but was glad to hear the steadiness return to her tone. "I just can't do it that way."

"I'm sorry."

She pulled back and looked into his face. His brow was furrowed, and there was no hint of a smile on his full mouth. She touched his cheek. "It's not your fault." She tried a tease. "Just for the record, I much prefer seeing your face when we're making love."

His gaze was still serious. "You were remembering . . . that day, weren't you?"

"Yes. But I don't want to talk about it now, HM. That's for tomorrow." She swallowed convulsively. "For now, please just hold me."

He drew her down to his chest, and his arms tightened around her. Sydney nestled against him as his lips brushed the top of her head. She took a deep breath, the subtle smell of leather and sweat that was HM filling her lungs. She finally started to truly relax. His long fingers traced soothing circles on her back, lulling her into the place between waking and sleep where she could drift safely in his embrace and forget about the things that haunted her elsewhere.

Sydney slipped into a sleep that was mercifully dreamless.

* * *

Face stood gripping the railing, his knuckles white. He had been headed upstairs to catch a few hours of sleep, and then take over from Hannibal on surveillance before the scene with Murdock. There was no point in heading to bed now. He was too keyed up to sleep.

He heard Hannibal approaching him from behind. The Colonel's flat-footed step was so familiar now that he didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"You're due down here to relieve me at 0200. You better go get some sleep, Lieutenant."

Face made certain his expression and voice were neutral. "I slept too much this afternoon."

Hannibal was silent for a full minute before he spoke again. "Spill it, Face."

Face frowned and considered what it was that was really bothering him. He was worried, frightened even; afraid for his best friend, and for Sydney. "Ok, so the episode with Murdock kinda freaked me out. Is that what you want to hear, Hannibal? It's been years since we've watched him nearly fall apart like that."

The smell of cigar smoke surrounded him as Hannibal leaned on the railing next to him. "There's little doubt why Murdock lost it at the end of the war."

Face shook his head. "But this is way worse than I ever suspected, Hannibal. I mean, we knew . . . or thought we knew Syd was dead, but I always assumed she died like Morrison – in the artillery barrage. Now we know there's way more to it."

"Well, I think it was safe to assume that from the minute a very-alive Sydney Wilson walked through the door, especially given the little bit she's shared about the injuries she woke with in Laos. But I still can't wrap my head around how Sydney's torture and apparent survival, Morrison's murder, and the smuggling ring fit together. I mean, what the hell did Sydney have to do with any of it? She was a field intel agent."

"She suspected Morrison and Curtis were working for the NVA."

"Right, so she does what – confronts them? C'mon, Sydney can be headstrong, but she's far from stupid."

"But she trusted Lewis." Face ground his teeth, remembering how Lewis looked at Sydney in Asher's office: like a carnivore sizing up its prey. "Lewis had to have been involved."

"And he killed Morrison."

"But why kill his partner in crime?"

"For a bigger slice of the pie, maybe?" Hannibal shrugged. "If we can get Syd to remember, maybe we can start weaving these disjointed threads into a coherent tapestry. Until then, it's all conjecture."

Hannibal stood up. "If you're gonna stay up, I'll hit the hay and relieve you at 0200."

Face smirked. "Sure, you have a warm bed waiting for you."

"You could, too, Face. You know that. Talk to her."

"Do I?" Face turned and looked at Hannibal. He wanted to smack that shit-eating grin off his commanding officer's face. But right now, Hannibal wasn't a commanding officer, he was a friend, trying to point out what, to him at least, was an obvious resolution to a problem. "Murdock told you, didn't he?"

Hannibal chuckled. "Actually, it was BA. You know, Face, you've done some real stupid things since I've known you, especially where women are concerned. However, I have to say that this fiasco with Amy was one of your crowning achievements . . . maybe even the end of an era. You slipped up sleeping with her, and letting yourself realize just how you felt. Now it's time you sucked it up and told her the truth."

"She wants to pretend it didn't happen; go back to the way things were."

"Like hell, Lieutenant. Her defenses are only slightly less developed then your own. If one of you doesn't take the first step, things will never go back to the way they were."

Face sighed. "They can't anyway."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "That's true. But if you take that first step, they could get better than they were."

"Or worse."

Hannibal put a hand on Face's shoulder and squeezed; his blue eyes intense. "I never took you for a coward, kid."

* * * *

Prologue to Chapter 15

Ike chuckled. "Well, you were the one that let them leave Virginia. I'd say you underestimated Colonel Smith and his men."

Stockwell grunted audibly. "I doubt we will be able to get any better lock on their position. Based on what Richter said, they are holed up in a remote area of the Cascades. I have the area narrowed, but I think an infrared scan would shorten my search."

"Always after a favor, huh, Stockwell." Ike smiled. He had known Hunt Stockwell for going on 40 years and the man never changed. He started as an opportunistic bastard, and he'd die one. To his credit, he was one of the smartest opportunistic bastards Ike had ever met.

"I thought we were after the same thing here, Cheney."

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that."

"Dammit, if you don't want to lose this cat and mouse game with Lewis, then we better damn well get to the A-Team and Sydney Wilson before he does."

"I think Colonel Smith and his men can handle Lewis. I'm more concerned about making sure he doesn't arrive prematurely and screw up the recovery of Sydney Wilson's memory. That is of the utmost importance."

"It was your call to use Sydney Wilson as bait . . ."

"Relax, Stockwell, you won't be held responsible for what has happened. Besides, I really think this is for the best. Not to mention that it saves the company any kind of inter-agency grief. The FBI wouldn't be happy knowing we pulled in one of their own after we lost her during the war. I've told the higher-ups the same thing. Once Lewis makes a move . . . "

"That is what you keep saying, and we still don't have a lock on Lewis. Your ass is on the line. If this op goes bad, your career is over, my friend."

Ike chuckled. That was what none of them truly understood – not his superiors, and certainly not Stockwell. "Hell, my career should have been over a decade ago."

"Old spies never die, Cheney. They become government consultants."

Ike could almost see the smug smile on Stockwell's face. "This old spy has no desire to become a drain on the government's limited resources."

A prolonged silence on Stockwell's end told Ike he had hit a nerve. But there was one last thing he needed from Stockwell, so he decided a reconciling statement was in order. "We chose different paths, Hunt. You follow yours, I'll follow mine. I do have one last request, though."

"Yes?"

"Lewis is likely going to come looking for you. Don't be too hard to find. And don't be too easy, either."

"That's an official request?"

"It's a request from me."

"Observation without engagement?"

"Yes."

"I suppose you will want to be informed should I encounter Mr. Lewis."

"Yes."

"And what do I get in return?"

"As always, you will receive part of the credit for successfully apprehending him."

"And if he gets away?"

"You weren't involved."

CHAPTER 15: A Prelude to Remembering

Awareness came slowly as Sydney clawed her way to consciousness. It had been a long time since she had slept so soundly. Her hand reached forward under the covers, seeking the warmth that had comforted her through the night, but all she found was a cold expanse of sheets.

She opened her eyes, and wondered briefly what time it was. The pre-dawn light of the room washed everything in shades of gray. The darkest shape in her line of sight was the outline of her favorite pilot standing in front of the picture window. He had on a t-shirt and boxers, and his hair was tousled. He stood unmoving, his arms crossed. She couldn't see his expression from here, but just his stance suggested a brooding mood. From the feel of the bed, he had been up for awhile.

She crept up behind him and put her arms around his waist, hoping to startle him out of whatever somber thoughts were running through his mind. She realized immediately that he had heard her coming when he smoothly reached back and pulled her forward into the circle of his arms.

"How long have you been up?" Her voice was muffled against his chest.

He shrugged, but didn't answer. Sydney pulled away and looked up into his face. She sighed. "HM Murdock, stop it."

He looked down at her, his eyes nearly black in the dim light. A half-formed thought about dark eyes reflecting dark thoughts flitted through Sydney's mind. She held his gaze. "What happened 15 years ago was not your fault. Please, stop obsessing about it."

The corners of his mouth ticked up, which Sydney took as a good sign until he spoke. "Perhaps not entirely my fault – "

"Not even partially your fault."

"I left you there, with Lewis, still staked to the ground . . . what the hell could have possessed me to do that?"

Sydney stepped out of his arms and put her hands on her hips. She doubted it was intimidating, especially given that she was stark naked, but she had to put space between herself and Murdock if she was going to argue effectively. "Ok, if we're going to play the blame game, that let's take your logic a step further. What the hell could I have been thinking, trusting my partner for the previous 19 months? I was always Lewis' staunchest supporter. Obviously, I'm a moron."

Murdock's shoulders slumped. "Sydney, don't –"

"Don't what? Don't blame myself? Fat chance, buster. If you can wallow in self-loathing, than I might as well join you."

"It's not the same thing. You were his partner. You had to trust him."

"Even when I knew what a sadistic bastard he could be?" Sydney hugged herself to suppress a shiver that ran up her back. The room was cool, but the memories of Lew's tactics when questioning a prisoner were even more bone-chilling. "C'mon, HM. I spent more time with Lewis than anyone else. What does it say about me as an agent that I didn't even suspect what a scum bucket he was?"

Murdock was silent for several long seconds.

Sydney sighed. "See, even you think I was a moron." She pouted, realizing that she felt like one, too.

"You have never been a moron, Syd." Murdock took her arm and pulled her close again. "You had to trust Lewis or you would have been dead. That's what having a partner means. It does make me wonder what the hell the Company was thinking, though."

Sydney snorted. "I'd love to get a gander at Lew's psych profile. I'd bet it was a doozey. Made him pretty damn good at what he did, though. They probably thought they could channel his sadism into productive channels."

"Listen to us, 'they were thinking . . .' like there was some kinda coherent planning behind what the CIA was doing during 'Nam, especially at the end of the war." Murdock shook his head, his face finally relaxing.

"You think they've changed?" Sydney looked up at him and returned his smile, feeling marginally less moronic. She may have been clueless where Lew was concerned, but at least she had shaken Murdock out of self-blame mode.

His expression shifted again, the smile fading to a grim frown. "I'm worried about today, Syd."

"I know it's not going to be pleasant – "

"That's not what I mean. I'm worried about you trying to remember something that might be best left forgotten. And . . ." He took a deep breath. "I've never really talked to the guys about my time in the CIA, and I think that's all gonna have to come out today. I can't help but think it's connected. I don't think it's going to make Hannibal happy."

"I'd bet my life savings Hannibal knows more than you think."

"Maybe." Murdock gazed out the window, his expression once again brooding.

Sydney pulled back, and slid her hands up to his shoulders. "Hey, we're going to spend all day exploring the past. How about, for now, we relax. I'm kind of chilly. Could I entice you to come back to bed with me?" She smiled a promise, as the prospects of Murdock in bed ignited a flame in her core.

Murdock's face relaxed into a warm smile and Sydney was pleased to see the teasing glint return to his eyes. "Now I really would be insane to turn down an offer like that!"

Sydney slipped her fingers under the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head. He chuckled. "Are you in a hurry?"

She grinned and poked a finger into his chest. "You, Captain, are not allowed in my bed with clothing on."

He tripped out of his boxers as he followed her to the bed. "I always obey orders."

A dubious smile quirked Sydney's lips as she dropped onto the bed and looked up at him. "If that were true you wouldn't be here."

"Oh, yeah." He grinned as he dropped onto all-fours on the bed and advanced on her. "I always obey your orders . . . where clothing is concerned."

Sydney raised her eyebrows, sliding back but allowing him to get closer, her smile teasing. "Even if I told you to put some on?"

Murdock growled as he positioned himself over her body. "Ok . . . I always obey your orders where removing clothing is concerned."

"Now that I believe." Sydney's voice dropped an octave as she anticipated the feeling of the lean, and very ready body hovering above her.

He covered her mouth with his as he pushed her gently back onto the bed. Sydney wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sliding her hands down his back and guiding his hips between her legs. He didn't hesitate, and Sydney sighed as he slid into her.

He pressed his lips against her ear. "Am I getting it right this time, sugar?"

He raised his head and she found herself looking up into eyes dark with a passion that echoed in every fiber of her being. "Very right."

A slow smile curved his lips as he began a steady rocking motion. He shifted and slipped even deeper into her, while gradually accelerating the rhythmic motion. She pulled his head down and their lips met in a hungry kiss. His arms slipped under her, his full weight bearing down to add to the force of each movement. Sydney wrapped her arms and legs around him, matching his tempo with her own, each thrust bringing her closer to the brink of reason.

She gasped as the first waves of orgasm rippled through her body. Her fingers bit into his back, pulling him into her deeper than she thought possible. She could feel him enlarge inside her, the mounting pressure a tantalizing prelude to his own release. A primal rumble accompanied his explosive orgasm, and each pulse swelled through her until every sense was overwhelmed by the rapture of release.

As the passion subsided to a delicious closeness, Sydney relaxed her vice-like grip on his body, and Murdock propped himself back up on his elbows, his gaze sliding over her like liquid chocolate. "I think that might get me through the day." His voice was low and thick with a desire that once again kindled the flame in Sydney's core.

"Maybe just one more time, to be sure," she murmured pulling him down for a kiss that promised more of the same.

* * *

Hannibal noticed Face glancing around the people gathered at the table, before turning to him to ask, "Should I wake up Murdock and Syd?" They were the only two inhabitants of the house not yet downstairs.

"They should be down, soon," Haley said. "I heard the shower start just before I left my room."

Hannibal glanced at his watch. "8:30 – Not like Murdock to sleep this late."

"Assuming he's been sleeping," Face muttered.

"I think they've been awake for awhile," Haley offered innocently.

Hannibal decided the conversation would only deteriorate from there, so he let the subject drop. Sydney and Murdock would be down soon, that was sufficient. He glanced down the table at Allen Richter. "So, Dr. Richter, what do you have on our agenda for today?"

Richter looked up from his plate, his gaze thoughtful. "I think we should meet out on the deck, perhaps around 9:30, and begin our first session. I don't want the sessions to last any longer than about an hour each, but we'll play it by ear, depending on how well we're progressing at the time. We'll discuss the ground rules when we get out there. One thing I'd like you to think about is who will be involved." He glanced at Frankie, who sat across the table from him, then down the table to where Haley, Maggie and Amy were clustered. "We have a few . . . extraneous people present, and it is entirely up to the group whether they are included in the sessions or not."

Haley stood, her expression sullen. "I suppose that means I won't be invited." When no one at the table responded, she picked up her dishes and stomped into the kitchen.

Sydney and Murdock walked into the dining room arm in arm a few moments later. Their contentment was almost palpable as they moved as one to a pair of empty seats at the end of the table.

Hannibal hated to dispel their good mood so soon, but it really couldn't be avoided. He looked at Sydney. "Haley wants to know if she can attend our sessions."

She glanced at Murdock, who shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea, especially given the little bit we do know."

"I agree, but it's going to be hard to convince her of that." Sydney suddenly looked very tired.

Murdock's hand covered hers on the table. "We'll talk to her. She may not like it, but I'd bet my life savings she'll understand better than you think."

"Maybe." Sydney smirked, and Murdock shook his head, chuckling. They appeared to be sharing a private joke. It reminded Hannibal of when Murdock, Sydney, and Face had first started hanging out together. The chemistry among the three young people had been undeniable. They were all about the same age, and had seen things kids like them shouldn't have seen. Maybe that was why he had allowed the situation to continue. They seemed to help each other over the rough spots.

Honestly, he hadn't thought much about it, until he noticed that more and more it was Murdock and Sydney he saw together, with Face notably absent. That was when he had stepped in, attempting to squash the budding relationship. A relationship he felt certain could only lead to trouble. If he had known then . . . he smiled wryly to himself. It wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference.

* * *

Amy walked into the kitchen carrying a stack of dishes gathered from the dining room table. She glanced at Haley, who sat at the breakfast nook in the kitchen, staring out at a tiny patio between the back of the house and the shear rock wall. She didn't even turn or acknowledge that Amy had entered the room. Haley's brooding gaze was so reminiscent of Murdock's unguarded moments that Amy had to agree with the consensus from the previous night. The pilot would have a hard time denying the girl.

She began filling the sink with hot water, cursing Hannibal's refusal to join the 21st century and put in a dish washer. She could almost hear him, 'Washing dishes is good team building work. Who needs a dish washer?' She smiled. She had missed Hannibal and his throw-back wisdom. Hell, she had missed all of them, including Face; maybe especially Face.

She just couldn't sort out her feelings about the handsome conman. The indiscretion of a year ago had been a mistake, and one she didn't intend to repeat. But she didn't want to allow it to ruin what had become a very special friendship. She had always subscribed to the common wisdom: never sleep with your friend or you'll ruin the friendship. It was too late now; she could only hope she could salvage the friendship.

"Want some help?" Haley startled Amy out of her introspection.

Amy turned off the water. "Sure. I'll wash, and you can dry?"

"Ok." Haley pulled a towel off the drying racks that swung beside the window. Amy could see a little of her mother in her, in the square face, and overly large eyes and mouth. But her coloring and height must be a clue to her father's identity, and certainly did seem to point to Murdock.

They worked in companionable silence for several minutes, until Sydney walked in, carrying a stack of dirty dishes. She set them on the counter next to Amy. "I'll go get the rest for you."

She returned a couple minutes later with the remaining dishes. "That's all of them."

Amy smiled. "Thanks. Haley's helping me out, since Hannibal thinks dishwashers are a waste of time."

"'Dish washing is a great team building chore,'" Sydney intoned in a female approximation of the Colonel's rich bass.

Amy laughed. "You've heard that one too, huh?"

"Actually, no. But I can imagine it."

Sydney stepped behind her daughter, and Amy was struck by how tall the girl was. She towered over her petite mother by at least six inches. It didn't seem to bother Sydney, who placed a hand on Haley's shoulder to get her attention. "Hannibal said you wanted to know if you could observe the sessions."

Haley shrugged. "I know you won't let me."

"We should at least talk about it Haley. My reason for not allowing you to attend has nothing to do with shutting you out. I just want to make sure you understand that."

Haley flipped the towel over her shoulder, having dried all the dishes in the strainer, and turned to face her mother. "I want to understand, Mom. I want to know what happened as much as you do. Why can't I be there during the discovery process? Why do I have to get the watered-down, second-hand version?"

Sydney hugged herself, her expression guarded. Amy tried to keep busy with the dishes, but she couldn't help her interest in the discussion. Her own curiosity had her burning to learn the truth of what had happened to the Team back in Vietnam, and her connection wasn't even familial. She couldn't blame Haley for wanting to be there.

"If we were talking about normal revelations, say my folks, who you haven't even asked about, by the way; or my childhood in Chicago, I might feel differently. But during the War . . ." Sydney shook her head.

"You mean when you met HM? When you fell in love? How can that be bad, Mom?"

A tentative smile appeared on Sydney's face. "You're right, honey. It wasn't all bad. But sometimes I wonder if the bad didn't outweigh the good; especially considering the outcome. I'm just afraid you're going to hear things that you shouldn't."

"Like the fact that my father might be a scumbag rapist?" Haley sighed theatrically. "I can't imagine anything being worse than that."

"I'm not talking about large sweeping revelations like that, Haley." Sydney's voice was steely, uncompromising. "I'm talking details of torture and rape and sadism. We're going to be discussing the nitty, gritty particulars of what happened during what I'm guessing were likely the worst days of my life. Do you really need to hear that?"

Amy was struck by the brilliant blue of Sydney's world-weary eyes as she held her daughter's naïve, chocolate-eyed gaze. She now understood why Sydney didn't want her young daughter to attend the sessions, and she was having second thoughts about her own planned insistence upon attending. She touched Haley's arm. "I was thinking about taking a hike into the woods around the lake today. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day. You're welcome to come."

Haley searched her mother's eyes, and seemed to come to a decision. She turned to Amy and nodded. "That sounds nice. Sure you don't mind me tagging along?"

"I'd love to have the company." Amy smiled at the young woman.

"You better go put on some jeans and a good pair of walking shoes if you're going hiking," Sydney said. "I'll help Amy finish up the dishes."

Haley leaned down and kissed her mother on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom. See you in a little bit, Amy."

As Haley jogged out of the kitchen, Amy turned back to the dishes.

"Thank you." Amy turned to find Sydney gazing at her.

"No problem. It'll keep me busy, too – keep us both out of the way."

Sydney's smile seemed tentative as she absently dried the bowl in her hands. "I don't think we really got off on the right foot yesterday. I hope I didn't do or say anything to offend you."

"Of course not." Amy was suddenly nervous. "I was just caught off-guard. Face hadn't mentioned anything about you . . . actually, I had never heard your name before yesterday. It all just seemed so strange. I mean, I know there's a lot about the guys' pasts that I don't know, but I guess meeting you really drove home just how much I still have to learn. I thought after spending a couple years following them around that I knew everything important. But they never mentioned you, especially Murdock. I mean, he was always so easy to talk to, and such an open and honest guy. He may be a little manic at times, but he always seemed like such an open book, you know what I mean?"

Sydney's blue eyes were wide. "Wow. That was quite the dissertation." Her brow furrowed. "They never mentioned me, huh?"

Amy could tell by the expression on Sydney's face that the fact that the guys never talked about her even in passing bothered her. "No, they didn't. And I'm really sorry about that. I tend to ramble when I'm nervous."

Sydney snorted. "I make you nervous?"

Amy glanced at her. "A little. If you worked with the guys in 'Nam you must be pretty . . . competent. I mean, Hannibal is a hard guy to impress."

A burst of laughter escaped Sydney's lips. "Yeah, I never managed it myself. So maybe I'm the one who should be nervous."

The sound of a throat clearing in the kitchen doorway caused both women to turn around. Maggie stood there, grinning at them. "I think you can both rest easy. Hannibal admires both of you. He's just not real good at showing it."

* * * *