Chapter 3 – The Team Gets Back Together
Face leaves the coolness of his apartment, gets into the elevator to the parking garage, and goes to his car. He has a 1964, red and white Corvette convertible, which he bought many years ago to replace his white one. That had been a great car, but he decided the older, more classic model suited him now. Plus, B.A. could work on these older models, before all the computerized components came into play. B.A. could fix anything. He also didn't charge Face to work on it. He would just have to drop by and hang out while B.A. worked on it, and if it needed parts, Face would pick them up and bring them over. He also had the new Porsche, but he didn't feel like being confined in it today. He gets in the Corvette and starts it up. Listen to that engine! B.A. keeps it in such good running condition.
He heads out of the garage going east, then north on the freeway to get to the little airfield Murdock uses when he comes into town. It isn't much, but he usually is just parking his plane for a few hours and then heading back out, so who needs the hassle of a bigger airport to deal with?
The day was really getting hot, but the breeze was keeping the smog away. It was clear and bright. "Oh yeah, where are my shades?" he asks himself. Finding them in the visor, he puts them on and drives at a pretty good pace on the freeway. No slowing, unusual, but nice. He really is not looking forward to this meeting with Murdock. In fact he isn't looking forward to the next several days. It is going to be hard on all of them. "Aw, cheer up Face! We all gotta go sometime." "Yeah, but did you have to go so soon, and like this?" Agony shows in his face, then acceptance. "Yeah, it was probably what you would have wanted." Is he going to hear the Colonel's voice all the time like this? Maybe he is getting to be as crazy as Murdock.
He pulls up as close as he can to where Murdock always parks his plane and waits. Since the traffic is light, he makes good time and beats the 2:00 p.m. meeting by ten minutes. He hears the plane before he sees it, so he watches it come in from the east to land. It sits down, bounces two or three times and sits down again. "Wow! That was a rough one for Murdock! I bet he's not doing very well," he thinks. "Oh boy, oh boy, I'm really not looking forward to this."
He watches Murdock taxi in, stop, and shut down the engine. It takes a few minutes longer before he climbs out and chocks the wheels, then he reaches back in to grab a little black bag, his catch-all, as he calls it. Face knows that bag well. He has seen it so many times before. Murdock walks his way, head bowed, and looking as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. He really looks old walking toward Face and Face wonders if he looks the same to others around him.
Murdock is dressed as always. In fact, since he got out of Army attire, he has had a very limited wardrobe. Tan pants, t-shirt, sometimes a flannel shirt over that and the inevitable ball cap and tennis shoes. Because of the heat of the day, his flannel shirt is thrown over his shoulder. Face had tried to help him with his wardrobe many times, but he always goes back to the old standby. Today he is wearing his Flying Vets cap. It is blue with silver wings. They make it look as if the "V" is flying. He was so proud and happy when he bought his first plane that he had hats made up for all of the team. Face still has his up in his closet somewhere and he knows the other guys kept their's, too.
Without a word, Murdock tosses his bag into the back and climbs into the Vette.
"You're right on time!"
"Yep."
That was it. One word then silence. Face starts the car and they begin the trip back.
"B.A. called and said I need to take a power of attorney down to the station, identify Hannibal, and pick up his things. I thought we could do it on the way back, if that's alright with you?"
"Can you just drop me at your place? I need to shower and change. I've been working all day, and I feel grubby."
"Sure, it's not really out of the way. Make yourself at home. You know which room is yours." Face knows the real reason Murdock wants to go to the apartment. He doesn't want to see Hannibal like this. In fact, I'm not sure I do, but it has to be done, and I am the second in command, so it falls to me.
"Rough landing! Are you okay?"
"Yep."
Again with the one word answer. This is going to be harder than he thought. He hopes Murdock isn't losing it again, going back to the way he was after the war. If so, it is going to be bad. Silence for at least ten minutes, then –
"Face, do you know what happened yet, I mean, do we have any answers, like who the scumbag is who shot Hannibal?"
"No, not yet, but maybe when I get finished at police headquarters, I'll know a little more. Murdock, you're not getting any crazy ideas are you? Like, trying to go after this guy?" … "Are you?"
"Don't know yet, don't know enough about what's happening. … Maybe."
"Well don't! We don't need you out there getting into trouble. It would be the last thing Hannibal would want."
"Really? Cause I think it would be just what Hannibal would want, and he even told me so."
"When?"
"On the flight down here. He came into my head and told me to find the sleezeball, and figure out what the heck is going on."
"Murdock, you're not hearing voices again, are you?"
"Maybe, maybe not, but I think we still need to find out what happened and do something if we can."
Face doesn't tell Murdock that he has heard Hannibal's voice in his head, too, because he isn't sure that is what Murdock meant. Better to just leave it alone right now. He doesn't want to pressure his friend and cause a breakdown, or something. When Murdock came back from the war, he was in pretty bad shape. That's why he was in the V.A. Hospital and Face had to always break him out when they needed his help. He could be pretty weird, but the guys knew he could fly like nobody's business and he always managed to help them out of a tough scrape.
Face pulls up to the curb in front of his building, and Murdock gets out. He never said another word the whole trip. He climbs out of the Corvette, grabs his bag and slowly walks toward the building.
When Murdock gets inside, he takes the elevator to the fifteenth floor and gets off. He hates elevators, but he can't hike that many stairs today. Face's place is at the end. It takes up the whole end of the building, so he has a great panoramic view of L.A. Murdock unlocks the door, steps inside and stops. The last time he had been here was New Year's Eve. Face had had a big party. Murdock and Kelly had come and Hannibal had been there. He could see him standing by the fireplace, drink in hand and cigar in the corner of his mouth, talking to a very beautiful woman. Murdock had no idea who she was, but the Colonel was enjoying himself and having a good time. Kelly and Murdock had stayed the night since it was a long drive back to their place, especially that late at night and after partying. Hannibal had crashed on the couch. Yep, it had been quite a party. The next day they had all went out for brunch. They didn't get up early enough for breakfast.
Murdock slowly comes back to the now. Reality check, Hannibal won't be here next year. "Why, Colonel? Why did you have to interfere?" Cause a lady was in distress, Captain, and I had to help her! "No you didn't! … Yes, you did. That's who you were Hannibal and you died the way you lived, didn't you? I guess that's better than a nursing home, sitting in a wheelchair and drooling. You would have hated that. Now you've got a great story to tell St. Peter, don't you?"
Murdock looks at the kitchen to the left, his room beyond it. Face's master suite is on the right and the rest is wide open in front of him. "I bet there isn't a speck of food in that fridge! I guess I better get in the shower, and walk down to that little corner store and get some grub." He goes in, tosses his bag on the bed and unloads his toiletries and fresh clothes. What's this? His bomber jacket! Why had Kelly packed that? Of course, she saw it as his security blanket and she is probably right. What would he do without her? Most likely something he shouldn't, but that may happen anyway. Kelly is driving down with the good clothes he will need for the rest of the week. She should be here around 8:00 p.m. and he will be glad to see her. Then he can thank her for packing his jacket, and for just being here to help him get through this. He really needs her support right now.
After his shower, he goes back down the elevator and walks down the street. He steps into a little store where he purchases sandwich material, chips, fruit, and milk, especially milk, since B.A. will be over later. He also gets some cookies and stops to pick up the evening paper. He can see the front page has the story of the robbery, but he doesn't want to read it now, so he folds it in half and walks to the cash register. After paying for the items, he heads back to the apartment to unload and wait for the others.
Face gets to the police department just at four o'clock. That is a busy time and if he needs to do anything nefarious, it is easier to do when people are otherwise engaged in getting to where they want to go, either on or off shift. He walks up to the counter, but as he expected, everyone is busy. With his hand on his stomach, he leans over the counter, to see if there are any papers lying around that might come in handy down the road. You know, blank warrants, ticket books, just anything that might be useful. He starts to reach over for a promising looking piece of paper, when the petite officer who had waited on B.A. earlier appears. Oh well, better luck next time. He smiles at her as she approaches.
"May I help you?"
"Yes, I'm sure you can. I am here to identify someone, and pick up his belongings. He is in the, you know, the morgue. I have a power of attorney. Do I give that to you?"
"No, you give it to the attendant at the morgue. What's the name?"
"Mine? Templeton Peck."
"The deceased's?"
"John Smith, really, John Smith." This is after she gives him a funny look.
"Oh yes, the shooting from this morning. I'm sorry for your friend?" She had turned it into a question.
"Yes, friend."
"You can take the elevators behind you. They lead down to the morgue, and someone will help you there."
"Thank you. You have been very kind." He feels her eyes on his back as he walks away. "I guess I've still got it," he thinks. Ha ha. Now why did Hannibal have to chime in? He didn't need to bruise his ego like that. Thanks, Colonel. Are you jealous?
The ride down was quick, but the walk to the end of the hall seemed to take forever. Maybe he was slowing down, too. Or maybe it was just what he was heading to do. He pushes open the door and walks to the desk where a man is sitting. He isn't an officer, but looks as if he belongs at the lab, white coat over a blue shirt with a tie. He seems intent on a report he is reading and doesn't even look up when Face stops in front of his desk.
"Uh hem, I have a power of attorney to pick up John Smith's belongings, and I think they want me to take a look at the body to make sure it's him. I really hope it's not, you know what I mean?"
"Yes sir, I do. Sign here, and I'll take that and make a copy, then we can go back." He reaches out, and takes the paper Face is holding.
"Sure, sure, whatever you need to do." Boy he is really nervous. This is harder than he thought. Hey kid, it's just me. Hopefully I've got a smile on my face. Not again! This is getting weird. He is beginning to think he knows how Murdock feels when nobody believes him. Because nobody will believe this, he is sure of it.
"Okay, come on back. He's over here. You okay? You look a little pale."
"No, no I'm okay, I think. Let's just do it, alright?"
"If you're sure?" The lab attendant walks over and pulls open the steel door that looks like a weird shaped refrigerator, slides out the table and pulls back the sheet. Face holds his breath, then looks. It's Hannibal all right. No mistaking that. He doesn't exactly have a smile, but he looks kind of peaceful.
"Yeah, that's him, John Hannibal Smith."
"No kidding! You mean the guy that was the head of the A-team all those years ago. Wow, I didn't know it was him. Wait til I tell the guys upstairs. They'll never believe it."
"Now, look, buddy, you're not going to make a side show freak out of him by letting everyone come down here and take pictures with their camera phones, cause, if I see one picture on one of those website things, I'll come back down here and bring a couple of friends, and we'll wipe the floor with you, capiche?"
"Sorry man, I didn't mean it like that, I mean, I was a real fan. I grew up reading the papers about those guys. He's like a legend to me. I wouldn't do that, I swear."
"Okay, well, you heard what I said and my one friend, I can't hold him back, so you better mean what you say."
"Hey, does that mean you are part of the, you know, the A-Team?"
"Yeah, I was. There is no team, not any more, not without him." He nods toward the door that holds his friend's body. To himself he says, "Not much longer, Colonel, I promise."
As he walks back to the elevator, Hannibal's face comes to mind. Had he been smiling, or was it just what Face wanted to see. As he is riding back upstairs, he looks through the envelope holding Hannibal's things. Let's see; his watch, Face had given that to him for Christmas two years ago; his wallet, two birthdays ago; his cell phone; keys to the apartment, a handful of change, and an unwrapped cigar. By the time the doors open, word has already spread. The whole office area is quiet, not a sound but Face's shoes on the floor. They are all standing, but Face doesn't even notice. He is miles away in another place, seeing Hannibal for the first time as he walked into a staff meeting as a raw lieutenant. Hey kid, what's your name?" Hannibal had asked. "Templeton Peck," Face had replied. "With a face like that, you could go far. I think I'll just call you Face, okay kid?" And the rest, they say, is history.
Face arrives back at his place. He had called B.A. on the way and he sees him pull into the slot that was meant for the folks in 1547.
"B.A., why do you always do that? I've told you to park in the visitor's slot, what, a hundred times?"
"This is a better spot. I don't want nobody scratching my ride, and besides, it's closer to the elevator."
"Ok, but if those people show up and complain, you're paying the fine this time."
"Ugh," B.A. said as he brushes off Face's remark as he usually does when Face is trying to get him to do something he doesn't want to do.
They ride the elevator up and Face lets them into the apartment. Murdock is sitting in Face's favorite chair reading the paper. A kind of unusual sight, but then Face notices what he is reading, so he doesn't say anything about the faux pax of sitting in "his" chair. Murdock turns around and sees Face and B.A. standing just inside the door. The look on Murdock's face is mortifying, but then he closes the paper, stands and smiles at B.A. He comes over to shake his hand, or give him a hug, Face isn't quite sure which, but then Murdock stops and just says, "Long time, no see, big guy," and playfully slugs him in the shoulder.
"Not long enough, fool." Nothing has changed between the two of them. That is as close to a natural greeting as they ever get.
"Hi Face. I took the liberty of going to the store and stalking up your fridge a bit. I even got you a gallon of milk, B.A."
"Only one? That won't last the night!"
"Well I was walking and I'm not going to lug six or seven gallons of milk three blocks!"
"Why not?"
Murdock just rolls his eyes and turns to Face "How did it go? I mean, is it the Colonel?" Face can see the hope in Murdock's eyes. He hates to let him down.
"Yes, it was Hannibal. I got his things and got out of there. It was too…overwhelming. And we need to keep an eye out on the social networks, cause the guy in the lab recognized Hannibal's name. I warned him, but you never know."
"Social network? What's that?" B.A. never does keep up with the times.
"You know the internet, pictures of people doing things they think others want to see."
"What, you mean Hannibal's picture, laying dead, out there for everyone to see? I'll tear his head off!"
"Calm down B.A. We'll just have to wait and see. I hope not, but…" Face trails off. The look on B.A.'s face is terrorizing. Boy he hopes that guy listened to him. He told him he couldn't hold B.A. back, and he's not too sure he could even talk him down. Better to change the subject.
"Is Kelly going to make it?"
"Yeah, she's driving down."
"What time is she going to be here? We could order in."
"Depending on traffic, anytime now I guess. What time is it any way?"
"About 6:30. You guys want Chinese, or pizza?"
"Pizza." They both say in unison.
"Pizza it is. Dare I ask what to put on it, or just order what I like?"
"No anchovies, pineapple, or mushrooms," says B.A.
"Oh B.A., what's wrong with mushrooms?" asks Murdock.
"Yuck, they got no taste and I hate the way they squeak on my teeth!"
"Okay, no mushrooms." Murdock concedes, way too soon. In the past they would have fought over that one point for thirty minutes or until the pizza arrived with no mushrooms. Face knew which one could hurt him the most and he isn't going to mess with B.A. and his food for anything. He orders three pizzas any way, one pepperoni, one sausage and pepperoni, and one with everything, but mushrooms, anchovies, or pineapple.
Kelly arrives just as the pizza boy is leaving, so Murdock goes down to meet her in the garage to bring up the luggage. They all sit down and eat, not with the appetite they usually have. They only eat a total of one combined pizza from the three they have. Kelly turns in early. One, because she is tired from the day and the drive, and two, because she knows they are the team's decisions to make, not hers.
They sit in the living area, B.A. at one end of the couch, Murdock slouched at the other, Face occupying his favorite chair. They all are looking somewhat older, but just as focused as ever as they go about making decisions on what to do next. The A-Team, minus their leader, is back together again and starting to form a "plan".