Death Waits In the Wings
Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.
AN: The Bible verse Murdock remembers his grandmother quoting is Isaiah 40: 29-31.
Chapter 21 Strength to the Weary
When he came to relieve the Sergeant from his watch, Hannibal was surprised at how well B. A. and Murdock were getting along. Of course, when most of the injured man's day was spent in sleeping instead of talking, he didn't have much opportunity to irritate the burly mechanic.
Still, B. A. seemed to be more protective of Murdock now than ever before. Even when the Captain lay close to death with a bullet intended for Hannibal imbedded in his shoulder B. A. did not display this much protectiveness. Something had been said between them. Hannibal was certain of that but for now he wouldn't probe either man about it.
The Captain grudgingly accepted the doses of painkillers every four hours and drank down the full glass of milk or juice that accompanied them. Hannibal got him to eat a banana but only after he reminded him who the ranking officer was. By rehearsal time that night, he had not eaten anything but that.
"Jus' don' have much of a appetite, Colonel." Murdock paused at the door to the van. He leaned against the doorframe, realizing any movement to climb in would be accompanied by intense pain.
Can't let the guys know, not when they're all dependin' on me. Jus' wish the pain'd go 'way.
Hannibal was watching him. Murdock knew any grimace, any hesitation on his part and the Colonel would make him stay home.
The injured man also knew he couldn't do that. Mrs. Bartleman had already lost valuable rehearsal time after his encounter with Hollis and his friends in the theater parking lot. That his father was not with the group that damaged Face's Corvette worried Murdock.
Never know when or where he's gonna show up. I'd be lucky if he crawled back to his bar stool 'n' gave up but I know he ain't gonna do that. Not 'til he's done what he needs to.
The thought sent a shudder through him.Opposing voices screamed at each other in his mind. He wished they'd stop. His head was beginning to ache from it.
Your father's gonna keep you quiet for good. You know that. You can't hide forever. 'N' that's what Viet Nam was, wasn't it? 'Nother hidin' place.
No! I enlisted to serve my country, not to run 'way. I'm not 'fraid of him! I'm not!
Then why're you visitin' Billy's grave? Why'd you run 'way when your Pa chased you at the cafe? You coulda taken both him 'n' Hollis. Or could you?
I was protectin' Cyndy.
Yeah, right. Keep on believin' that, crazy fool.
"Anything wrong, Captain?" Hannibal's icy blue eyes were scrutinizing him, looking for any crack in his armor, anything that would sideline him for the evening.
Murdock took a deep cleansing breath and felt the corresponding spasm of pain. He forced the grimace to become a grin instead. "No problemo, Colonel." He turned away from Hannibal, tried to hide his face as he got in.
Jus' bend your knee, plant your foot 'n' lift yourself in. You done it a million times before. You'll be fine once you're in and sittin' down.
He gripped the seat and managed to boost himself and swivel. Collapsing into the seat, he struggled to keep himself from clenching his teeth.
Breathe in and out, in and out. Slow, easy breaths. Control it. You can do it. You did it in the camps in Nam.
When he glanced up in the rearview mirror, he saw that he had not fooled B. A. Damn his eyes! He shot the black man a warning look, telling him with his gaze to be quiet about what he observed. B. A. scowled and shook his head but didn't say a word as Hannibal shut the side door and got in.
Murdock leaned back against the head rest and tried to focus. He clutched the ice pack against the bruised area on his chest and let his eyelids droop.
Billy, you got to talk me through this rehearsal, keep me goin'. Jus' keep me goin'. What'd Gramma always say? 'He gives strength to the weary 'n' increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired 'n' weary, 'n' young men stumble 'n' fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.' Surprised I 'member that after all this time. Gramma sure did love her Bible verses.
The opposing voice, the one that was sounding like his father or what he remembered of his father's tone, answered with a laugh.
Bible verses ain't gonna help you. Billy ain't gonna help you. Your Gramma ain't gonna help you. 'N' you never put much stock in God 'til you were in Nam, so He ain't gonna help you either. I'm gonna kill ya, boy! Firs' chance I get. Mark my words, boy. Yer dead.
The words repeated and became a dull roaring in his head. The next thing Murdock was aware of was the van door opening. "We're here, Captain. Ready to rehearse?" There was that scrutinizing look on Hannibal's face again.
Well, gettin' out's usually easier than gettin' in. Jus' so I don' step down hard.
"Ready as I'll ever be." He clutched the door on either side and slowly lowered one foot until it was on solid pavement and then brought the other foot down to meet it.
"Faceman ain't here yet from pickin' up Cyndy." B. A. scanned the parking lot and then the street in front. He glanced at Murdock and wondered what was holding the injured man upright. Pure stubbornness?
The Captain's face was much too gaunt and pale. B. A. could see the slight tremor of the khaki pants as the pilot's knees shook with the effort to stand. He glanced at Hannibal and was relieved when he saw the Colonel noticed the same things.
"Gentlemen, let's go inside and find a seat. We can wait for Face and Cyndy there." Hannibal watched as Murdock shuffled toward the door in a crooked path. Nodding his head toward the pilot, the Colonel gestured for B. A. to help.
Just as the black man reached Murdock, the injured man swayed and almost fell to the sidewalk. The Sergeant gripped him around the waist and supported his weight all the way to the theater door which Hannibal held open. Once inside, B. A. lowered Murdock carefully into the first theater seat in the back row.
The Colonel knelt beside him. "Still want to tell me you can get up there on stage tonight and perform, Captain?" His chilled words were met with a fiery glare.
"Jus' wrap my ribs up so I can move 'n' I'll be fine," Murdock rasped. "Can't miss no more rehearsal or Mrs. Bartleman may's well sign over the theater tomorrow mornin'."
Much as Hannibal hated to admit it, the Captain was right. He motioned for B. A. to bring the bag of medical supplies he had put together.
As Hannibal removed Murdock's jacket, flannel shirt and T shirt and began to wrap the pilot's ribs, the theater door opened.
Her uninjured arm around his waist, Cyndy struggled to support a disheveled dazed Face as they staggered to the nearest unoccupied theater seats.