The Case of Kinnegal's Banshee

Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.

Chapter 13 Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Murdock didn't know why he pushed past B. A. to stand on the stoop and scan the street. With three words the Sergeant told the pilot everything he needed to know.

"I'm sorry, man."

Murdock went numb inside. Something happened to Dani and whatever it was had been something beyond even B. A.'s massive strength to prevent. He sank down on the top concrete step. Holding his head in his hands, he refused to look up when Hannibal came out and sat beside him.

"Do we know who?" His voice sounded hollow even to his own ears.

Hannibal lit his cigar and smoked it in silence for a few seconds before answering. Murdock remained frozen in place, waiting. "Someone who boarded the plane without her noticing and got to her as she was disembarking. B. A. thinks it was Eddie Scalatini's man Sly."

"She's still alive?" He whispered the question as if afraid of what he would hear.

"Yes."

The pilot closed his eyes and breathed out a shaky laugh. "Thank God."

Hannibal squinted out at the street and took another puff of the cigar. Exhaling, he absently murmured, "Yeah."

"Why her? Why now?" Murdock stared down at the concrete step between his high-top sneakers.

"She's a Scalatini. Maybe the mob war in Las Vegas has begun to filter its way out to L. A. and up to Chicago. Maybe someone thinks she's been mailed or given something that could get them in trouble with the feds. Like photos of gangland murders and mob boss meetings." Hannibal waited for Murdock to connect all of the lines in the answer he had laid out for him.

"And maybe that information has been sittin' hidden somewhere outta the way until it could be safely given to the authorities." The pilot thought about what he said, groaned softly and shook his head. "Dani doesn't have the stuff. We do!"

"Looks that way, Captain." The older man flicked ash from the end of his cigar onto the steps. "How Brendan McClonough and his friends and possibly his father figure in, I don't know. How the photos and the key got hidden in the cellar of The Thirsty Dog, I don't know. What I do know is suddenly this has gone way past a simple investigation to find out if the pub is haunted."

Murdock shot Hannibal a sharp look. He hesitated. "You got a plan, Colonel?"

"I'm working on it."

"We gotta find her, Colonel. We gotta get her back." He said it in a quiet voice but the raw emotion behind the words was visible in the abrupt way in which he rose and walked down the steps to the sidewalk. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and stood, his back to the Colonel.

"B. A. couldn't do anything with so many people around. He lost them in the crowds before he could get to the van. Couldn't tail them." The older man glanced at Murdock to gauge his reaction, saw him straighten to his full height.

The pilot focused his gaze on the passing cars but his thoughts were in turmoil. He felt Hannibal's eyes analyzing him.

"Dani knows nothin' about the photos. Whaddya think'll happen to her when they realize that?" When the Colonel remained silent, Murdock spun to face him. "You can't answer that, can you?"

"Our first priority is to get that packet and key into the right hands without drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves. To do that, I can't have you pulling a lone ranger stunt like you did in Las Vegas, going after your girlfriend by yourself." Hannibal had the cigar clamped between his teeth now and was standing on the top step of the stoop looking down at the pilot. It was a posturing tactic meant to bring the Captain's focus back to following the orders given him. The team had to work together.

Murdock placed one hand on the railing and glared up at the Colonel. Several seconds passed before the wild unfocused rage left the pilot's eyes and was replaced with resignation.

When Hannibal saw the change of expression he turned to the door of the duplex, knowing that Murdock would come in and listen to reason.

Four miles to the north of Keelin's duplex at a construction site on South Wells Street, Daniela sat at a small desk in a trailer. She stared in disbelief at Salvatore "Mad Sal" Tabio and the foot soldier sent with him to provide any necessary additional muscle.

"I can't believe my own father had my apartment in L. A. searched and then had me followed here to Chicago." She crossed her arms and glared at Tabio.

Scalatini's capo for the Printer's Row area showed gold-capped teeth as he smiled and motioned for the other man to stand outside at the door to the trailer. Once the other man took his post, Mad Sal seated himself and leaned across the desk.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. The only reason Sly is still alive is because the heat is on for the families in Chicago and Las Vegas. Too many more on either side and the feds find the mistakes made and start building their case." The older man let his smile fade.

"I'm trying to stay as far away from my father and his dealings as possible. If it were possible to divorce an entire family heritage, I would." Daniela shook her head. "You've got to believe me. I want my new life. I don't want my old one."

Tabio chuckled, a humorless dry sound that made the nurse shudder slightly. "I suppose that new life includes new friends. Like that skinny guy you've been going out with for a few months now."

She stared at him, her eyes wide with fear.

"Oh, we've been watching." His eyes bored into hers. "Now let's get down to business. Your father needs your help and you're in the position to give it to him."

When she shook her head he snarled, "I think you'll find you have very little choice."