"Mornin' Sah," an old, strained voice materializes through the fog of sleep in Murdock's head.
"Hmmmmmph," Murdock grumbles, "five more minutes, George," and rolls over.
"George!" HM bolts upright throwing off his cover, he blinks through the early morning glare. "Geez, George, it's been forever! How ya doin' old timer?"
George sits hunched on a chair next to Murdock's cot, a walking stick leaning against the large bandage on 'his' thigh. "I got your message, sonny," the aged voice sneers. "It's improper to threaten people that can't respond..."
"Awww, man. George..." Murdock drops his head into his hands.
"Come now, Sah. It's still good to see you. Even though my sight's not what it used to be," the old timer reaches out a trembling hand covered in scars. Murdock glances up at his visitor, takes the hand and shakes it gently.
"Captain! Time to get moving! There's a location up north we can... Oh, forgive the intrusion," Hannibal's gruff tones soften, he stops a few feet from Murdock's cot.
"Yes Sir. Hannibal, this is George," the pilot climbs to his feet, "George, this is..."
George lifts 'himself' shakily to 'his' feet, "Colonel Hannibal Smith," the old voice says, one shaking hand clutching the walking stick, the other extended.
Smith, to his credit, accepts that the person before him is not Sophie or that strange Dolly, especially with such a dull, clouded look to her usually brilliant, hazel eyes and the slight tremor that runs through her strong, lean frame.
"It's good to meet you, sir. I understand that you're the man to talk to for some answers about this whole mystery," Hannibal shakes the offered hand respectfully.
"Mystery?" George's voice wavers, "Ahh! That sexless psychopath! Yes, Colonel, bear with an old man, though! I'll wait 'til you can sit for a bit. And, please, call me George."
"Alright then, George, we just have some preparations before we move to a more secure location. Captain, we'll need you to get the transport ready," Hannibal replies turning to pack down the tent and equipment.
"Psychopath?" Murdock cock's his head while he dresses.
George's eyes narrow, "Never trusted that creep. It knows it, too. Trust Simon more than that hooker o' yours, Sah. Only woman you ever loved, am I right?"
"For fuck's sake, George! I know I should respect my elders but you really push it sometimes," Murdock bursts sweeping his medications into a small suitcase before tossing throwing it onto the stripped cot.
"Is it still 'This Man's Army?' Or isn't it?" George pokes at the pilot with the walking stick. "You don't look at your CO like that do you?"
"What! Hannibal? Hell!" HM had chosen to forget how abusive the old man could be; he couldn't risk an argument with the bastard now, not when they still needed intel. "Look, George, we need to know why the collective 'you' isn't dead and we need to know what Simon wants from me. I'm not gonna let you do this to me now!" Murdock yells swatting away the makeshift cane.
"Everything okay over here?" Faceman ambles over, "Murdock, we need to get in gear, buddy, come on."
"What? Fine. George... just sit down before you hurt yourself," the pilot grumbles, walking away from the antagonizing old 'man.'
George cackles, fits of spasms wracking the laughing body, as 'he' settles into a camp chair. Face has seen Murdock worked up but not the way he is now; the pilot looks like he could throttle someone.
"I'm right behind ya', Face," HM says stopping next to the giggling figure in the chair.
"Heh, heh, heh, so that's the one, Sah? He's a bit too pretty for you, isn't he?" George says in a low voice, laughter still shaking through 'him.'
"Don't ask, don't tell," Murdock snarls leaning over the 'old man' menacingly, "I swear if we didn't need you right now, I'd leave you drooling in a hospital bed, you old bastard."
Murdock shoves himself away from George and storms through the tent gathering equipment as he goes.
That awful, wizened cackle follows him out into the daylight.
"George?" a gravely, commanding voice calls. Hannibal and B.A. cautiously approach the hunched body in the camp chair. Baracus looks exceptionally uncomfortable with the task of gathering up Murdock's sister.
George wakes with a snort, "Huh? Colonel! Are you ready to talk, then?"
"No, Sir, not yet. We can talk on the flight. We're here to escort you to the transport," Hannibal replies steeping forward to help the trembling figure to 'his' feet.
"What's all this 'Sir' nonsense? I'm sure I told you..." George babbles accepting the assistance.
Hannibal can't keep the amusement from his face, "Yes, George, you did. As one old man to another, you know habits are hard to break. B.A., would you get that pack?"
George chuckles; it's an odd coughing laugh.
As Bosco gathers up the last pack for this 'mission,' he's stunned by the changes in Sophie's appearance and bearing. The most peculiar thing, by far, is the cracked and aged, male voice that issues from her lips. Despite the horrid scarring, she seemed so vibrant in her other persona, now her hair is limp and looks rather gray, her eyes lack luster and she's stooped and tottering as if she were ninety.
George leans heavily on Smith's arm as they make their way across camp to the airfield, B.A. walking a few steps ahead of them.
"George, I hope you'll be comfortable enough flying," Hannibal says genially.
"Of course Colonel, no problems there. I've flown with that boy a number of times," 'he' responds.
B.A. spins on his heel, "And you still trust that fool?"
George cackles, "What's the matter, Sonny, you sound like he threw you out 'a plane without a 'chute!"
"He DID throw me out 'a CHOPPER without a 'chute!" the big guy spouts.
George fishes in one of 'his' pockets and pulls out a small pill. "Here ya' go, boyo. Don't want to be listening to a grown man cry," 'he' cackles again.
"What!" B.A. exclaims. "...Hannibal..." he gives his CO a loaded glance.
Smith tries to swallow the laugh building in his gut, "Now, George, I usually sedate our big Ranger for flights, so please, next time let me handle it."
"That poof really put a scare into you, didn't he, Sonny," George chuckles meanly.
Bosco stiffens at the slight to their pilot but shakes it off at a warning glance from Hannibal.
"Old fool," he mutters continuing on to the airfield. B.A. shakes his head, again, at how easily he accepted this 'old man' aspect of Murdock's younger sister. 'No wonder Crazy is nuts.'