The Sucker Punch Never Came
Chapter 21 Loose Ends
"Sure you're up to this?" For the fifth time since they left the VA hospital Face asked Murdock about his physical and mental well-being.
The events of the last week left the pilot with numerous stitches in three places on his body and several unanswered questions. More than once he had awakened in the middle of the night with the flashback nightmare lingering in the darkness, quickly receding and just blurry enough that he could not find his answers.
"All I got to do is fly the birdie to Vegas, right? Long as the sky don't turn purple and I don't get into any knife fights, I'll be fine." Murdock pasted his best no-problemo grin on his face, hoping his friend would not probe. He unconsciously touched his tender belly where the inflicted cuts had been deepest.
Connors couldn't have done better at almost killin' me if he'd been a hack surgeon goin' for my appendix.
He knew Hannibal would have plenty of questions for him to answer when they arrived. Murdock was surprised the debriefing had not come sooner. But then, the team had been laying low, waiting for the word from Donna that Decker had given up for now.
He knew as surely as the rising and setting of the sun that Decker would return someday soon. He would have to be vigilant in case Decker tried to get to the A team through him again.
Face parked in the alley beside an abandoned warehouse. Murdock opened the Corvette door instead of climbing over the door frame like he usually did. He could not afford to tear stitches open when there was a mission to be completed.
The two friends entered the warehouse through the nearest door.
"Welcome back, Captain." Hannibal's cigar tip glowed red in the building's dimly lit interior. "How're you feeling?"
"Ready and able, Colonel." Murdock sensed there was more to the question but he chose to ignore it.
B. A. nodded a sulky greeting from his place by a pallet of boxes. "We got a mission. If you can't pull your end, say it now, fool. Don't jazz us."
"B. A.! Go stand guard." Hannibal's voice cut through the air. The words had an edge to them. The big black man grumbled but obeyed.
As soon as B. A. shut the door behind him, Hannibal emerged from the darkness where he had been privately gauging the pilot's condition. "Sorry about that. B. A.'s just jumpy. He's been arguing all morning that we could drive to Vegas instead. Come sit down, Captain." He motioned toward three chairs set up in front of another pallet of merchandise.
Murdock limped to his seat between Hannibal and Face. He knew it was obvious. His friends noticed. But, dang, the stitched gashes still hurt sometimes and there was no hiding the pain.
"I understand our friend Jerry Connors is now in a hospital for the criminally insane." It was a statement, not a question, but the pilot knew it was also an opening for him to start talking.
What could he say? "Yeah, the angry mudsucker got himself in with the boys that're just as angry and nuts as he is."
Hannibal decided to lay his information cards on the table. "Okay, we understand from his files that Connors had you beaten up in Saigon and you pressed charges for assault against him and his buddies. Why you?"
Murdock swallowed. He had been expecting the question, attempted to manufacture a vague response but found himself telling Face and Hannibal his entire flashback dream. He ended with why he had been following Connors and the current status.
"My shrink got the ball rollin' on all of that. So now Connors and I wait in some kinda limbo 'til the military hearing. I gotta testify to what I saw way back then. It could be as big as the My Lai trials."
"But there are no guarantees they will believe you?" Hannibal pressed.
"Word of a crazy man against the word of a homicidal crazy man? I don't know, Colonel. I gotta stay sane until the hearing. Make myself believable."
"And there were no other witnesses?" Face asked.
"That's just it. I know I wouldn't a been alone in the air with a bird back then. Not where I was. I would a had at least one gunner and an observer if I was doin' reconnaissance. I sense they're in the chopper but I never see their faces. And Jag's three buddies never made it through the war. Dr. Richter found that out for me."
In a way, Murdock thought it was a type of gruesome poetic justice. The remains of the three murderers had been blown across the countryside in Thua Thien-Hue Province but he remembered too many buddies who died in agony to rejoice in the fact. No one deserved to die that far from home. No one.
"I don't know, guys." The pilot eased back in his chair and closed his eyes against the concern in their faces. "My shrink's trying his damnedest to bring back the memory but it's stuck in some deep dark corner. Maybe I'll never know the answers."
Hannibal shifted his position, stared off into the dim corners of the warehouse, reflecting on his own buried memories. Face's eyes were clouded with his own thoughts.
When Hannibal spoke, his voice grated. "We all have memories and questions. We'll never have all the answers, Captain. Never."