Chapter Four: All out of Love

The fuse sparked to life quicker than Murdock had expected. Sneakers sliding on loose soil, he lurched into a frantic run. Not going to make it… He leaned forward, bracing for the impact. If he could just reach the crates, if he could find a little cover, then maybe he'd survive.

It was asking the impossible. He knew it. He prepared himself for pain, for maiming. The explosion was going to happen at any moment, and yet…it didn't.

Ducking behind crates, he glanced back at the train. It sat, tranquilly basking in the warm breeze. Nothing moved.

"That can't be good," he murmured, not daring to take his eyes off the site of potential destruction. He squinted hard, trying to see the stick of dynamite but it was useless. There was no way he could tell if the fuse went out from so far away.

"Murdock?" Hannibal's voice drifted from the radio in his jacket pocket. "Any time now would be great."

Murdock clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened. "Come on," he urged, "just go kablooey, please, please, please!"

He bit his lip. How long could he wait? What if each second put Face further in danger? He rose slightly from his crouched position. Even by his standards, heading back to the train sounded crazy. It could blow at any moment. He took a step forward. Self-preservation gnawed at him.

Closing his eyes, he steeled himself to his final decision. "I've got to help Faceman." He took another step and then the explosion came.

Knocked backwards, Murdock flinched at the wave of heat. Chunks of metal landed around him, but he remained relatively unharmed. At least he was pretty sure he wasn't damaged. His adrenaline was pumping so hard, it was difficult to feel much of anything.

He sat on his rear, gaping at the flaming train. The locomotive looked fairly intact, but the coal bunker had caught fire, along with the first boxcar.

He shook his head. "I sure hope this was part of the plan."

The door to the third boxcar back slid open and five heavily armed soldiers emerged. Their faces held an odd mixture of confusion and rage. After assessing the damage, they spread out and began an intense search. Murdock watched, knowing he should run, but he couldn't, not until he saw if Face was alright.

"Come on Faceman," he whispered as he maneuvered himself back behind the crates. "You gotta be ok."

He kept his vigil until the men closed in on his position. He squatted down out of sight and pulled out his pistol, but he wasn't sure if it would do much against multiple assault rifles.

"Pensé que vi algo aquí." The voice was close.

Murdock drew in a breath. This was it. He checked his ammo. Three rounds against five men? Well, he'd been in worse situations, but he couldn't think of any at the moment. It didn't help that the song "All out of Love" kept playing in his head.

"¿Usted oye alguien el cantar?" The man stopped in front of the crates. Murdock could just barely see the top of his head.

"Si." Another voice answered. "Air Supply?"

Oh hell. How long had he been singing? Murdock clamped a hand over his mouth. Normally he had a little more control over his melodic tendencies.

One of the men started to laugh, but the sound was cut short as the roar of an engine drowned it out. Shouting and gunfire erupted, all of it moving away from Murdock. He peeked around the edge of the crate.

BA sped his truck up beside the train, slammed on the brakes and spun to a halt. Instantly, Face dashed from the nearest boxcar and jumped into the passenger seat. Murdock had to stop himself from giving a loud cheer. He made due with a fit of quiet laughter, but that quickly died away as the truck took off northward through the compound.

"What about me?" He whispered.

With the soldiers chasing after the truck, it was the perfect time to slip away. Slowly, he rose to his feet. Which way would he go? Turning to the northeast, he decided to skirt the edge of the compound. Maybe I'll run into the guys, or Hannibal. Yeah, they must be looking for me.

He started off quickly, but his pace slowed. As his adrenalin rush faded, his fatigue and pain resurfaced. Weary and dizzy, he needed a place to rest. An abandoned school bus looked promising. The rows of seats had been removed, but that was fine. He crawled in and lay down.

He hesitantly reached up and touched his ball cap. A flare of pain rose in the back of his head. Experimentally, he tried removing the hat, but that proved uncomfortable as well. Dried blood had plastered his hair, cap and the handkerchief to the back of his skull. Removing it was going to be a painful process. He just didn't want to deal with that yet.

His stomach growled. When was the last time he had eaten? Food sounded wonderful and sleep sounded good, too good. It would be a mistake with his head injury, but maybe if he just rested for a minute. He could just shut his eyes for a minute, right?

Something crackled and he opened his eyes. The radio? He pulled it from his jacket pocket.

"Guys, that was BEAU-TI-FUL!" Hannibal's voice sounded soothing. "That went off without a hitch!"

"Yeah, except for the crazy man being on the wrong side of the compound," BA added. "I almost blew the fool up with tennis balls! That ain't right."

Hannibal chuckled. "Oh BA, that just added to the flare of the mission, right Murdock?"

Murdock frowned.

"Oh, I forgot. You can't get through on these things. Sorry Captain."

"Come on Colonel, tell me something I don't know." He sat up, staring hopefully at the radio.

"Ok boys, time for phase two."