Chapter 13: with cameo appearance!
Turning around toward the microphones Hannibal sees Murdock's brown eyes stare at his own hand coated in bright red blood. A big red stain starting to bloom on the right side of his abdomen. He never even got beyond the seats before the shot went off. The colonel had never seen B.A. move that quickly, because the moment the pilot's legs give out out the big black man dives across the seats and catches the pilot in his arms. He can faintly hear voices shouting for them to drop their weapons, but can't move. One of the police officers moves into his line of sight and grabs his shoulder making time slam into gear again.
The officer looks older, and more seasoned than his partner. Hannibal looks at the man in a daze. Off to the side Face is helped up by Maureen and a few helpful bystanders. B.A. is shouting for help while Murdock's deathly pale hands futilely try to hold on to the sergeant. The police officer and the colonel make eye contact and seem to come to an understanding. The cop steps aside and Hannibal rushes towards the fallen pilot, trying to assess the situation. Murdock has his jaws clenched tightly together and is breathing harshly through his teeth. B.A. is keeping pressure on the wound. Making quick work of the pilot's A2 jacket and T-shirt he uses the latter to mop up the blood.
"Colonel… How's it look!" He asks, gasping.
"Looks like you're going to live to see another day Captain."
"With how many… times… I've been… shot…" Murdock needs a moment to catch his breath before a tight smile appears on his face. "You would think… that I'd be used to it… by now…" B.A. puts more pressure on the wound feeling the blood seep past his fingers. Murdock throws his head back moaning, clawing at the hand causing him so much pain.
"I'll kill you! I'll kill every single one of you!" Ian is practically foaming at the mouth. "Arrest them! They are the A-team, arrest them!" Beth wiggles herself out of the hands holding her and dives for the papers. Her face paling as she looks at them. "No…" She is hauled back up on her feet by the crowd and cuffed too. "No! They're empty! Where are the papers? Carol?!"
The cop sits down on his haunches beside the bleeding man. "The ambulance will be here in 3 minutes." He takes out his notebook and scribbles a name onto it. "He will be taken to Saratoga Hospital under this alias. We use it for our informants. Use this code word…" The cop looks at Hannibal. "I never saw you if you leave now."
Carol is sitting beside Murdock and B.A. The pilot is looking pale and sweaty, unconsciously trying to push B.A's hand away from his injury.
"B.A. we have to leave."
"No man, we can't." The sergeant starts to protest. "Fool, needs blood."
"No, B.A…" Murdock mumbles. "Gonna be… fine…" He shakily reaches for Carol's hand and moves it over his side. "Pressure... here... darlin'…" He pants. The brunette complies and pushes on the wound as soon as B.A. let's up earning her a deep guttural groan. "Oh God…"
The cop returns to their side. "Move now!"
"B.A.!" Hannibal barks out the name.
The black sergeant grabs the pilot's neck and head with his bloodstained hand. "Don't die on me crazy man." Murdock clutches B.A.'s wrist in return, his grip strong. Brown eyes meeting brown and he nods, the muscles in his neck taut, before squeezing his eyes shut. They peel out just as the ambulance arrives on the scene.
Evening finds the colonel in a hospital room with an unconscious pilot. While they were on the road, Face all but collapsed in the back seat. Seeing no other option than to rent a room, the team holed up in one of Saratoga's motels. A quick call to the hospital revealed that Murdock was currently undergoing surgery. They would let them know when he would be put in a recovery room.
They laid Face down on one of the beds before taking the time to flush out his wound again, but the fever didn't seem to be abating. The colonel sighs and rubs his face warily. He feels like a man dying from thirst in an ocean of undrinkable water. Being in a hospital, surrounded by everything he needs to ease the lieutenants suffering, but not being able get it is excruciating.
Hannibal hears a sigh like sound coming from the bed and he stands up from the hard plastic chair, his back popping. He moves towards the slowly awakening man in the bed. Murdock's eyes open a sliver before slipping closed again. It takes a few tries for him to be able to keep them open and focus on the room. Hannibal sees his brown eyes wander aimlessly through the room before finally settling on him.
"How are you feeling Captain?"
Murdock tries a few times to speak but no sounds comes from his lips. Instead he opts for soundlessly mouthing his question. "Face…"
Hannibal swallows dryly and puts his hand on the captain's neck and jaw, keeping Murdock's gaze focused on himself. "Face is going to be fine son." He tries to convey all of his strength as a commander through his eyes, hiding his own fears. Murdock's eyes slid closed again against his will and he nods, showing the same deep rooted trust the lieutenant had shown him just this morning. Hannibal feels his heart constrict painfully, feeling the young man's muscles relax in his drugged sleep.
He is rudely startled from his thoughts by someone clearing his throat. He looks up to see an older doctor checking Murdock's vitals. The doctor probably used to be a lady killer in his younger years. What used to be dark hair is streaked with silver and his blue eyes focused on his work. Without looking at the colonel, the doctor speaks up.
"I heard you have another man down?" His expression guarded, Hannibal checks out the doctor, but doesn't answer. The man sighs. "This one is going to make a full recovery. I had to remove a small part of his lower intestine and suture several bleeds, but other than that he's a very lucky man."
"When will we be able to move him?"
The doctor straightens his back and writes something down on the clipboard. "I made an oath to help those in need. I don't know who you are and frankly I don't care." He looks the colonel straight in his eyes.
"Let's see your other man first. Then we'll talk."
Weighing his options, Hannibal knows he has no choice but to trust this doctor. After giving him a rundown of the situation, the doctor grabs his things and several supplies before meeting him at the back of the hospital. They drive to the motel in silence. Upon entering the motel room, the smell of sickness hits them with a vengeance. Face is lying flat on his back, drenched in sweat and his chest heaving. B.A. looks up and unconsciously moves to shield Face.
The doctor ignores the heated glances thrown his way and moves towards the ailing lieutenant. With swift movements he uncovers the shoulder wound and starts prodding at the exit wound. Carefully rolling Face over on his side he checks his back before laying him flat again. The man sighs, seeing the small rosary clasped tightly in the man's hand.
"It has been some time since I last saw something like this. All we need is the sweet sound of shells dropping and the picture is complete."
The colonel looks up in surprise. "Vietnam?"
"No, Korea actually. I used to be a surgeon in a MASH unit there." The doctor checks Face's vitals and does not like what he finds. "His fever is a 103, heart rhythm thready, this man needs a hospital."
Hannibal sags into a nearby chair, his energy levels suddenly drained. "We can't." He puts his face in his hands in a rare show of despair. "We are wanted by the military."
Looking at the dejected looking man in the chair and the big black guy hovering over his injured friend like a mother hen, the doctor makes a decision.
"Well, I can't say I'm a big fan of the military anyway." He extends a hand to the colonel, blue eyes twinkling. "I'm Dr. Pierce, but you can call me Hawkeye."