Chapter 11 - The game is afoot

Sorry sorry sorry for the superlate update.
I am currently swamped with new projects, and I guess I was experiencing a little writer's block at the same time.
But I found my muse. And I guess I'm a bit of a dork too, because I bought myself a vintage Murdock doll! He's sitting on the edge of a planter, watching me as I write.
Finally, here is the new chapter. And I already started working on the next one.
As always, thanks so much for the reviews, and also for the new follows! You guys amaze me!

Chapter 11 - The game is afoot.

It was still quite early...
The sound of traffic could be heard in the distance and Hannibal wondered how his two 'lost boys' were doing.

He knew B.A was captured and wounded, and Murdock was killed and, according to that crook Don, 'gotten rid of'. But Hannibal simply refused to believe it.
He wouldn't and couldn't accept it until he saw the evidence with his own eyes. But at the same time he couldn't deny that a dark coldness had gripped firmly around his heart.
What if it was true? What if Murdock was killed?
Did they really lose their friend that night?
Hannibal's brow furrowed deeply at that thought as doubt started gnawing at him.
What he didn't know was that Murdock had survived the execution.
At that very same moment, the lanky pilot lay passed out in the van, being left alone in the birch tree forest. A forest that happened to be very close to the hotel they were currently staying.
If only he knew...

Hannibal silently shifted his stiff body on the uncomfy mattress.
The muggy motel room felt oppressing to the older commander of the A-team. The air-conditioning was making a rhythmic but monotone buzzing sound.
The television was on but with the sounds turned off. It was currently broadcasting a rerun of the old Tom and Jerry cartoons that cast a ghostly shadowplay on the dim-lit walls.
Hands folded beneath his head, Hannibal lay on his back on the only bed in the room. His eyes were open and his gaze was unblinkingly fixed at the ceiling.
Next to him, Face lay on his side, half covered under the blankets and with his back towards the colonel. He was asleep, but it seemed his dreams weren't overly pleasant. The conman kept tossing and turning every couple of minutes while mumbling unintelligible words in his sleep.

Hannibal sighed.
He himself had only managed to get some shut-eye for a short couple of hours.
It hadn't been much, but it was just enough to recharge him.
He lay mulling over his plan, trying to go over every single detail that could go wrong.
Like always, his plan was a bit of a gamble.
Usually, it would have sent him straight into jazz heaven, as Murdock liked to call it. But right now, he didn't feel anything close to the jazz.
His intel was limited and the stakes were rather high this time.
But did it matter really? They didn't have much of a choice anyway.
Hannibal peeked at the television screen where Tom just opened a door to chase after Jerry, who was waiting for him with a hammer to (quite literally) knock the cat's toes into pancakes.
Hannibal couldn't help but see a resemblance to their current predicament. It seemed that he and his team members had been caught in a wicked cat-and-mouse-game themselves.
The colonel chuckled silently as he envisioned his enemy as the big grey cat. He sincerely hoped he could be as shrewd as that bad-ass mouse today, though hopefully with a bit more finesse. Pancake-toes would not do.

An hour later, while glancing at the luminescent hands of the alarm clock on the bedside table, Hannibal decided he was finally allowed to get up.
Time for action!
He quickly dressed in his usual gear, removed the chair from the bathroom door and sneaked a peek into the bathroom to find both bad guys still fast asleep. One occupied the dirty, smudged bathtub, while the other one lay on the floor, next to the sink. Both thugs were bound and blissfully unaware of their current circumstances. Lucky fellas...

As Hannibal turned around to wake up the lieutenant, he almost jumped out of his skin.
Face stood right behind him with untidy hair and rubbing his eyes groggily.

"Time to get up?" he asked with a sleepy voice.

"Yes," Hannibal nodded, "I'm going back to the car to make contact. You get dressed and prepare the room for our warm welcome."

"Right..."

Face sighed but nodded in agreement.
Hannibal reached out for the lieutenant's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"It will be alright, Face," he said before leaving the room.

A few minutes later, Hannibal entered the 'acquainted' car of the two thugs and sat down in the driver's seat. For a moment, he allowed himself to sit there and gather his thoughts. He gazed with unseeing eyes at the pink sky where the early sun was steadily rising, and tried to estimate what condition he would find the other half of his team in. It would make an important difference to the methods of their escape. He had at least three different scenarios in mind.
Anger flared through his whole body as he furiously grabbed the car phone and, without realizing it, squeezed it hard in his tightened grip.
He wondered what he would do to that bastard Don if he could lay his hands on him. He was sure it wouldn't be pretty.
Hannibal exhaled slowly as he told himself to stay calm.
With mere determination, he forced his anger to the back of his mind while mentally preparing himself for his next move.
He pulled a piece of paper with a phone number from his jacket pocket, checked it, and started dialing.
He was glad he forced the number out of Bert during their interrogation in L.A. It proved to be very useful indeed.
The colonel only hoped that it wasn't too early to make this phone call as he didn't want to raise any suspicions.
Fortunately, it didn't seem to be a problem.
Apparently, villains got up early too...
Don picked up, sounding as alert and sharp as someone who had been awake for some time.
Hannibal drew a breath, changed his voice, and began his con, hoping with all his heart that the ugly sleazeball would fall for it.

Don hung up the phone, fingering his goatee with a contemplative frown on his face.
He'd been beyond irritated that team Beta hadn't checked in all night. He'd tried contacting them, but to his frustration, he hadn't been able to reach them.
It had kept him up all night.
Earlier, Don had set up a very strict roster for all of his teams to contact him at various times during the day. His henchmen knew there weren't any exceptions or they would have to face the wrath of their chief. Don had made sure they all feared him. He'd shown them what he was capable of.
Don smirked wickedly as he remembered cutting off an ear from one of his henchmen to make his point. The effect of his actions on his men had been... interesting.
They'd feared him.
So the fact that Team Beta had neglected to contact him, initially set off all Don's alarm bells.
However, there had been relief when his phone finally rang.
The connection had been bad, or so it seemed. There was a lot of static, and it had been hard to hear his henchmen's voice properly.
It had been Bert who'd called and finally checked in for an update about their targets Smith and Peck. The guy had asked for assistance to escort them and their targets to their hideout place.
Apparently, Bert and Ernest had been facing some difficulties capturing the two A-team members but managed to overpower and restrain them in the end. According to Bert, the car was wrecked which left the car phone dysfunctional. They'd found a motel and a pay phone to call Don, and they needed a lift.
After noting the address of the motel, which, fortunately, was only a few miles away from their hideout, Don grinded his teeth in pure irritation.
Of all days, today his boss would be paying them a visit. And Don knew that the man was expecting to see results.
It was 'very important' to deliver today!

With his thin hand still resting on the phone, Don pondered about Bert's story. His pale eyes looked around the room as if searching for something he missed.
The story had sounded legit enough, but why was he still feeling suspicious?

"On the other hand," Don shrugged, "It 'was' part of his nature to be leery."

He decided not to waste any more time and find his men. He was going to send out Chester and Frank to pick up team Beta and their captives.
Don himself would stay behind with Hunter and Lee to guard the place. Two people would be enough as he didn't expect any trouble from the injured Baracus.
The last time he checked, the man had seemed in a rather bad state.
Soon, Peck and Smith would be joining him, and the team would be complete.
If his men made haste, they would be back just in time to present the A-team on a silver plate to his boss.
Finally, the end of their lengthy enterprise was in sight. All those weeks of hard work would be paying off soon.
Don smiled greedily at this very thought and left the room.

Besides the call of the early morning birds and buzzing insects; all seemed quiet around the grounds of the old Silver Creek Mill Museum.
A bunch of yellow-flowered rabbitbrushes rustled ever so slightly as a lonely figure inched his way forward over the dusty ground.
The low shrubbery over the open area forced him to stay low and out of sight while getting closer to the buildings that were situated at the bottom of a small sloping hill. Behind them lay the remains of a dried-up creek.
Pausing to take a breather, Murdock squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to check the perimeter. All seemed clear for the moment.

Twelve minutes earlier, he'd arrived in the old ghost town called Silver Creek, using the directions of Betsy's scribbled map.
At the first glimpse of the mining buildings, Murdock quickly took a side road to park the van out of sight behind a large, half-collapsed shed. It was close enough to the buildings but just far enough to stay concealed. The lanky pilot planned to cover the rest of the distance on foot, hoping he would find B.A in a good enough condition to walk out of the place on his own accord. Carrying him would be out of the question.

The injured pilot had tried to ready himself as best and as quickly as he could manage. At least the adrenaline helped him think more clearly, but his body kept shaking.
Still feeling rather cold from the night, he put on his pilot jacket.
The heavy leather on his shoulders immediately made him feel safer and gave him a sense of much-needed confidence.

Murdock quickly scanned the van for any guns and rifles, but to his exasperation, he had to conclude that the vehicle had been stripped clean of any weapon. He wished he could remember what had happened, but trying to figure it out was hurting his head too much. So he gave up and the big black hole of emptiness remained.
There was no other option. He simply had to try and find other means to defend himself and he hastily filled his pockets with whatever he could find.

Instead of a gun, he'd pocketed Hannibals' Swiss army knife, his purple glow-in-the-dark yo-yo, and his trusty pocket-sized flashlight that had already served him well that morning. He even found some fresh batteries for it.

"Who knows. It may just come in handy," Murdock told himself while trying to stay optimistic.

If all else failed, he could always throw said items at the enemy to cause instant distraction and get the hell out of there while (hopefully) giving them a black eye in the process.
Right... positive thinking... sanguine and such... yes ... he could do that...
If only he had a grenade instead of a yo-yo... or an atomic bomb...

Then there was the matter of food and water. Even though Murdock's mind wasn't into it, his protesting body told him differently. He knew he was functioning on his last reserves and needed to get something into his system to operate as best he could. But the waves of nausea weren't making it easy.
However, with B.A's life at stake, Murdock didn't exactly fancy barging into the enemy's camp and faint on the doorstep because he forgot to fill his tank. That would be such a waste of a perfectly good element of surprise.
So... long story short; Murdock forced himself to drink more water and he even managed to eat a whole candy bar, though keeping it down had been a challenge of a different caliber.
Still swallowing hard, Murdock ordered Billy to stay with the van and bark whenever anyone with a mean brow and unfriendly eyes was approaching it. He wasn't going to get his dog in any harm's way if he could prevent it.
Eventually, he clumsily covered part of the van with some scraggly bushes and, while muttering a goodbye to Billy, entered enemy territory.

Currently, Murdock lay belly-down on the ground, concealed by the yellow flowers while staring at the two most prominent buildings in front of him.
The closest building, if you could even call it that, was huge. But it looked more like a ruin than anything else.
Once upon a time, it must've been very impressive with its five-story-high walls and the tall windows. Now it looked decayed. Part of the roof of the building had caved in, plants were growing freely within the walls, and part of it looked blackened by a fire that must've happened years ago.

The other construction, a smaller, though still impressively big, brick building was partly hidden from Murdock's view. It was situated approximately 20 yards away from the ruin and had the looks of a museum or perhaps an old visitor's center.
Like the bigger building, it looked like it hadn't been cared for in at least a decade. Some of the orange roof tiles were missing at places, and some windows were broken. But in contrast to the huge building, it hadn't been burned down or partly collapsed.

While calculating the distance between his hiding place and the ruin, Murdock slowly got up into a crouch.
Earlier, he'd seen some movement behind the windows of the service center, but all looked quiet now. He knew he needed to take a risk.
Small pearls of sweat formed on Murdock's brow as he readied himself for a sprint.
Without realizing it, he was softly humming 'You are my sunshine' under his breath again.
Now!
Murdock's eyes widened in concentration and like a jack in a box, he ran full-speed into the direction of the biggest of the buildings.
His arms were pumping as his long legs quickly covered the distance. The moment he reached the building, he ducked low and flattened himself against the wall that was hidden in the shadows. Breathing hard, he cautiously sneaked a peek around the corner and looked at the customer's center for any enemy movement.
But there was none.
It appeared that he'd gone unnoticed and Murdock let out a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes briefly while taking a few steadying breaths.
Next move… if the world stopped spinning… was getting close to the other building without being seen.
Murdock decided to try his chances and make his way through the remains of the ruin to stay out of sight.
Close to where he stood was an old crooked door that stood ajar, and the lanky pilot quickly slipped inside.

Murdock had to blink a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dim-lit surroundings. Amongst the rubble, there were remains of old heavy metal machinery. His jaw dropped a little. It was impressive. The hallway was huge and the ceilings reached high.
Spread on the ground there were scraps, engines, filtration systems, tubes and even enormous gears that used to be part of some impressive machinery.
B.A sure would get a kick out of this stuff if he could see it! Murdock was sure of it.
Carefully stepping over the tubes, wooden beams, and other scraps, the lanky man made his way through the building.
The place was covered with thick greasy layers of dirt and dust. Plants seemed to grow everywhere while lizards fled for the lanky intruder.
Murdock felt uneasy as he entered the heart of the abandoned place. The silence was almost palpable and made him feel tense.
A sudden high-pitched cry and fluttering movement made Murdock jump and duck behind a stack of metal plates.
It turned out to be a bird. He cursed himself for being such a coward and was still muttering something about a stupid feather duster when he reached the other end of the big hall. There was a closed door he assumed would lead him into another huge room or chamber.
The lanky pilot hesitated for a second while listening intently for any movement behind the door.
All was quiet, and he cautiously entered what looked like an old workshop. Like the other rooms of the building, it was spacious and had a big barricaded double door. The place was only illuminated by a ray of sunlight that glittered through the broken pieces of glass of the old dirty window frames.
Suddenly Murdock's eyes fell upon two cars that were parked in the middle of the room.
Apparently, the room was functioning as an improvised garage.
The space looked like it had been cleaned up recently. The floor around the vehicles was cleared off all rubble and debris, and the pilot's keen eyes noted that the two vehicles were the only things in the building that hadn't gathered thick layers of dust.

Murdock observed the cars with interest.
There was a dark blue four-door sedan with a broken headlight which Murdock immediately disregarded without much interest. It didn't ring any bells for him.
However, when he laid his eyes on the other car, his heart performed a happy somersault.
It was a pick-up truck with faded lettering that he'd recognized from the video!

YES!

Murdock beamed at the sight of it.
He was sure of it now.
B.A 'had' to be here... he just had to be!
And seeing that, apart from this room, the rest of the building looked abandoned, the pilot had a good hunch that his friend must be held somewhere in the old visitor's center.

Murdock walked to the middle of the room and stealthily approached the cars.
Just as he reached the dark-blue vehicle while contemplating to check the glove compartment for a weapon, he heard loud voices and the sound of quickly approaching footsteps. Murdock flinched and looked around feverishly in search of a hiding spot. There was none!
A creaky door opened on the other end of the room and Murdock only had a second to crawl underneath the dark-blue car.
Wide-eyed, and hoping that nobody heard the shuffling sounds he'd made, he peered at the pair of feet that were soon closing in on him.

"Did you hear somethin'?" He heard one of the two men that entered the room say.

"Probably rats," the other man shrugged. "This place is infested with 'm."

Murdock saw a pair of snake leather cowboy boots approaching his car and halting right next to where he lay. The pilot held his breath while eyeing the highly decorated boots with wary interest and giving them names.

"I'm glad this will be over soon," Mr. SnakeBoot said while rolling himself a cigarette and leaning against the four-door sedan.

"It's good news that Bert and Ernest finally tackled the other two targets. We'll finally gonna get paid for all our hard work!"

"Yeah. Payment is sweet," the man at the other end of the room acknowledged.

Murdock quickly adopted him Mr. Sneakers, seeing he was wearing a pair of white hightops.

"And I can't wait to see Peck and Smith captured," Mr. Sneakers went on while walking toward the double door and removing the wooden drawbars.
"Us, capturing the A-team. Can you believe it? Won't that look awesome on our resumes?" he joked.

Murdock's limbs tensed at the unexpected mention of his friends. His eyes darkened, and his hands balled into fists as he watched the sneakers returning to the cars. Finally it started to dawn on him what was going on.

"I wonder why our guys were delayed though. You think they'd gotten themselves into trouble with those two commandos?" Sneakers asked.

"Who knows with the notorious A-team." SnakeBoot shrugged. "But they got them nevertheless. And according to Don, they got them real good!"

SnakeBoot chuckled while dropping his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with the heel of his boot.

"And I heard from Lee that that giant fella ain't doing so well.
Lee gave him food and bandages, but he refuses to eat or tend to that leg of his. Seems a bit subdued if you ask me."

Murdock closed his eyes at these words and felt a shudder of anger running down his spine.

"All the better...," Sneakers continued with a smug voice. "He will be easier to handle if he's weak, ain't he?"

"Yeah, I guess..." SnakeBoot shrugged. "Anyway...better be going to help the guys with Peck and Smith. Don told us to hurry..."

"Don can kiss my shiny you-know-what," Sneakers muttered under his breath.

"Don't let him hear you!" SnakeBoots laughed as both men stepped into the car.

When Murdock heard two doors slam, he'd forgotten to breathe entirely. His eyes shut open, realizing that he wasn't sure which car the men just entered!
Lying underneath a car that was about to take off suddenly didn't seem like a very wise decision.
It all felt a bit too familiar to him.
Argh! He really should stop hiding under cars! It was such a bad habit.

The car engine started with a booming roar. The pilot winced and squeezed his eyes shut again. It didn't even matter if they'd run him over or not. His element of surprise would be blown either way.
The pilot rolled his head sidewards and tried to flatten himself as much as he could while the ground vibrated and the car started to move.
It rolled backward and out of the open garage doors. Someone stepped out to close the doors again and the lanky pilot was left alone in the dim-lit room.

"Huh!?"

Murdock cautiously opened one eye and gazed at the greasy belly of the four-door sedan before opening the other one as well.
He could hear the engine sounds of the pick-up truck fading in the distance.
It was quiet for a few seconds...
Then, without being able to contain himself, he started to giggle loudly.
They took the pick-up truck! It seemed that Lady Luck had been on his side once more. Gosh, how he loved that gal!

But the giggling fit ended as abruptly as it began. Murdock's expression changed in one of deep concern.
This was bad...real bad. The colonel and Faceman were captured too!
He had no idea how to tackle this new problem. But one thing at the time.
He really needed to hurry and find B.A. first.

Murdock needed a few moments to gather and control his emotions before shuffling his way out from under the car.
Getting up, he wavered in place, suddenly feeling very tired. While holding on to the roof of the car, he shook his head to get rid of the giddiness and made his way to the door at the end of the room. It was the same door the men had come from and he needed to know what lay behind it.
As he opened it and peeked around the edge, he realized the door led him outside into the bright sunlight again.
Murdock noticed that the visitor center was only 20 yards away now.
Squinting at the other building, the lanky man discovered another door.
The footprints on the dusty ground seemed to lead to it, but it meant he had to cross open terrain again.

"Come on Murdock. The game is afoot!" Murdock mumbled to himself.

Sighing deeply while eyeing the windows with cautious eyes, he made another run for it.

TBC