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I don't own any content, A-Team related or any other known characters that may be referred to during my story. O/C are mine.
It was nearing midnight as the guys drove quietly back to their hideout in B.A.'s rebuilt van. It was painted just like the one Murdock had pancaked in Mexico but B.A. seemed to love this one even more. He was always polishing it and tweaking it. Murdock wondered why Hannibal would let B.A. drive them around in such a high profile vehicle when the army was looking for them. It didn't seem very smart but one had to admit, she had character.
Murdock now sat with Face in the back trying to keep him steady as they bounced over some pretty rough roads. The captain was eerily quiet until he started to softly sing along with the song on the radio.
B.A. snapped "Oh, don't start singin'!"
Baracus turned to the man next to him for back-up but the harrowed look in Hannibal's eyes told B.A. he had gone too far. B.A. looked into his rear view mirror to see nothing but Murdock's green eyes filled with pain. The pilot looked confused and lost, trying to figure what he had done to deserve such an outburst. B.A. realized he had been wrong to cut Murdock off. The big man swallowed hard and let out a deep breath, "If it helps go ahead, Man. I guess I don't mind."
Murdock looked back down at the Lieutenant who lay motionless in his lap. Shaking his head, he mumbled the barely audible reply "Naw. I really don't feel much like singin' anyways."
After about an hour they pulled into their current residence. It was an old shipping warehouse. All the men agreed that Face had outdone himself this time. From the outside the warehouse looked like a very legit and functional business. On the ground floor, there was even a forklift and a bunch of crates that added to the illusion.
The 'Equipment Maintenance Room' was a large room with a garage door. Face could park his silver Corvette and there was still room for B.A. to hide the van, and perform routine maintenance or work on vehicles as needed. Upstairs there was one fake 'Office' in case someone needed to meet with Management of the warehouse (Face was always prepared to play that role). The rest of the loft was living quarters and workspace for the team.
Each man had his own space and shared the common areas that included a workout room with tanning bed, an entertainment area equipped with a large LCD TV, and a fully-equipped kitchen - which was unofficially Murdock's domain. When the tales of Peck's four-cell prison 'luxury suite' had surfaced to the team, it wasn't much of a surprise that he could pull off a space like this.
After securing the garage door, B.A. left the driver's seat and came around to the sliding door. Murdock helped him slide the injured man across the seat. Once they had Face outside of the van B.A. carefully moved him over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. They crossed the warehouse floor and climbed the long flight of stairs to the second story. It seemed to take a much longer time than usual to reach the loft. Hannibal turned on the lights leading down the hall towards the team's personal quarters.
"Look after the Lieutenant, and get a dressing on that leg B.A." With a nod B.A. took Face to his room to clean the bullet wound. Hannibal turned back towards the living room, suddenly unaware of where his captain had gone. The only sign of him was the brown bomber jacket and red airborne cap tossed on the back of the couch. Then the sound of a switch and light flooding from the kitchen gave away his position.
"Ummm... you want anything to drink, Colonel?" came a quiet voice from near the refrigerator. "I'll take you up on a beer Captain." Hannibal answered back.
Murdock scooped up four beer under his arm out of habit and then paused, remembering he only needed three this evening. He hurried to put one back on the shelf hoping that the Boss-Man hadn't noticed. Rounding the island he picked up a canister up in his other hand and proceeded to give Hannibal his beer.
Hannibal took the offering and found he was staring at the flour canister under the younger man's arm. Then looking up at Murdock, Hannibal cocked his head a little to the right and whispered "Do you need help with something?" Murdock was trying to balance his and B.A.'s beer under his arm without dropping them, while opening the flour canister.
Hannibal couldn't help but wonder about the young man's actions, but he could tell Murdock was out of sorts. After winning out over the canister Murdock plunged his hand into the container and pulled out a handful, and stuffed it into his mouth. Hannibal eyed the canister carefully.
"M&M's?" Murdock offered, shaking the jar. The wary Colonel just smirked and reached in, pulling out a rainbow assortment of candy. Shaking his head amused, he couldn't help but ask "Where do you keep the flour?" Without missing a beat as he walked down the hall towards Face's room Murdock replied, "In the cookie jar, o'course."
Hannibal just stood there with a beer in one hand and the candy coated chocolate in the other. "But he's one hell of a pilot." he said to himself as he followed along to join the others.
Murdock pushed the door to Face's room open. As he walked towards Baracus he popped the cap from one of the beers he was supporting under his arm and set it down softly on the night side table closest to the big man.
B.A. looked up expecting Hannibal to be the one to have quietly slipped through the door. He was surprised when saw the usually wild aviator was the one who had delivered his beer so silently.
"Thanks." B.A. said taking a sip.
Murdock flopped into the brown leather armchair that sat next to the bed with his beer in one hand and his flour canister in his lap. He regularly took handfuls from it.
B.A. stole a glance. Murdock seemed strangely quiet, too quiet. His poise was much like the night he was shot in the Kevlar helmet, but his eyes were different tonight – like he was somewhere else. Murdock subdued like this just wasn't normal and it unnerved B.A. to see him like this.
The door was once again pushed open and this time Hannibal entered the room. Surveying his team he asked B.A. how Face was doing. After receiving the informal report that his vitals were strong, wounds were clean and wrapped he sat gently at the foot of the bed. Hannibal was relieved that his color was looking much better then it had when they loaded the kid into the chopper. That pallor wasn't good on anyone, especially someone who was as tan as the Lieutenant.
"Someone should stay with him tonight in case there's trouble." B.A. spoke quietly but before the Colonel could reply Murdock interjected "I'll do it - I got the first watch - I probably won't sleep anyways and 'sides, you two were thrown around too. You both had hard landings - only difference was both y'all could walk away."
The pilot's words moved fast and the sudden pick up in his outward demeanor came as a bit of jolt to both men. Murdock bit his lip, adding in a bitter tone, "I was just hangin' around watching the fireworks while you guys were getting shot at."
Hannibal tried to subtly give B.A. a non-verbal cue to keep his comments to himself, but B.A. looked shocked and at a lost for words - a rare occurrence.
"Go ahead to bed, Sergeant. Murdock will take the first watch." and with that B.A. turned and headed down the hall to his own room.
Hannibal moved to the side of the bed with his back towards the sleeping man and looking searchingly at the man in the armchair who was staring off again. "Do you want to talk about it?" Hannibal probed. Murdock just blinked at him like he had just realized the colonel was still in the room.
"There must have been somethin' I could have done to help. If the bird hadda had a gun maybe I coulda gave you guys some cover." Murdock blurted.
Hannibal closed his eyes as he felt a shiver down his spine, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes to see Murdock's guilt ridden expression as he contemplated his earlier actions.
"If you had been there, you would have been right over that tank when it blew. Instead of sitting here right now we would be sifting through the wreckage trying to decide what charbroiled scraps of you to give a proper burial." The colonel put his hand on Murdock's knee and continued, "Because you wouldn't have had a chance that close to the explosion in a chopper."
Murdock hadn't thought about that. He was just angry with himself for not doing more to help the guys. Thinking about that scenario made the pilot stop arguing with his self about what he should have done.
Hannibal continued to speak in a soft voice, "You did exactly what I told you to and you handled everything as we needed. Even while everything went to shit around us and your best friend lay bleeding in the back of the chopper. I am proud of you, Captain."
Murdock looked up and made eye contact with Hannibal. "C'mon Colonel, I got the first watch. I'll make sure he doesn't sneak out to scoutin' for girls or joy ridin' in his Vette." Murdock flatly joked.
"I don't think you have to worry much about that tonight, kid." pausing with a smile, "Come and get me if you need help or sleep." Hannibal gave Murdock a pat on the shoulder that was returned with a nod from the younger man. The Colonel left, pulling the door closed behind him.
Once out in the hall Hannibal walked quietly towards his room lost in his own thoughts of the evening when a deep voice caused him to jump. The flinch went unnoticed in the dark. B.A. had been standing in the doorway of his room waiting to speak with the older man.
"I don't know who worries me more right now Hannibal, Face or that crazy fool." B.A. spoke quietly so their conversation wouldn't be overheard. "Hannibal, the way he looked at me in the van - that was intense man." Rubbing his hand roughly over his mohawk he added "I dunno if I've ever seen him like that. I mean - I've seen him after night terrors, and the stuff at the pier last year, and all that other normal Murdock stuff - but that was weird. His eyes were so... cold."
B.A. was having trouble shaking how Murdock had psyched him out. "The fool's eyes are normally dancing for joy even when death is flyin' right at us but tonight, I dunno. He was off somewhere else and hell! I was even flyin' with him." He stopped suddenly like he had just realized the full scope of what his fear for his friend's well being had made him do.
Hannibal spoke even more quietly, "When a mission calls for radio silence he's sitting there blind to what's happening. That must be incredibly hard." pausing to think it through, he continued, "When that tank blew Murdock had no way to know if any of us were still alive. All he could do was circle and hope one of us called out to him on the radio. I'd find that next to impossible if I thought anything had happened to any of you boys." A wave of uneasiness passed over him as he thought of reversing roles with his pilot.
"And to top that off, Face is his best friend and he'd take anything that hurt him bad, especially if he thought for even a moment he could have done more - which is exactly what I think is going on."
B.A. chewed the thought over and shook his head "Ya think he's okay with no one to talk to in there tonight?" He jerked his head toward Face's door. "Ya know he's not good left on his own… at the best of times."
Hannibal shrugged. "He'll be fine, and I'm hoping he's not alone for too long, but only time will tell. Good night, Sergeant." the Colonel added as he retreated to his room, leaving the other man to do the same.
