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.
Chapter 37 Nurse Baracus
When Murdock woke the next morning after another restless night, he tried to kick the blanket off only to find it firmly tucked around him. For a few seconds, he didn't know where he was. Not knowing increased the terror welling up inside him until he thought he would implode with its intensity.
The last thing he remembered was walking to the cemetery and feeling like his father was following him. He panicked.
And then he grabbed me from behind.
If McKeever was anywhere around and he was still alive, he had to figure out a way to escape or he wouldn't be alive for long. He willed himself to open his eyes. Dappled light fell across worn floorboards. One sunbeam slanted in and illuminated designs on the tin ceiling above him.
Home? How'd I get back here?
His eyes were blurry enough that he couldn't make out the details of anything. A dark-skinned bulk was seated in a chair near his head. The figure moved and Murdock heard the sound of water and a jangle of metal chains. Then something cold dabbed at his face.
He wanted to push the wet cloth away but couldn't move his arms from within the confining coccoon of the blanket. A series of violent coughs erupted from deep inside his chest forcing tears into his eyes.
"You 'wake?" The two words came from a familiar voice. A large hand with flashes of gold on the fingers wiped at the corners of his mouth. The cloth came away with clots of bloody mucus on it.
"B. A.?" Murdock groaned.
"You been burnin' hot all night. You're sick, man."
He closed his eyes and swallowed. Every joint in his body ached. "I been better," he agreed. He stared into B. A.'s concerned eyes before grimacing. "Cyndy tol' you, didn' she."
"Doesn't take a lotta brains to see it, fool. You been hidin' it pretty good but when you take a stroll late at night an' try to deck me . . . "
Murdock groaned again and squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn'!"
"Didn't getta chance to." B. A. let a rare smile flicker across his face. "'Sides, you too weak right now to do much. Cyndy didn't tell me nothin' I didn't wonder 'bout already."
The pilot pushed with his feet against the arm of the couch to try to wriggle out of the blankets around him.
"Stay put. Hannibal's orders." The Sergeant frowned and rinsed out the wash cloth in the basin beside him.
Murdock relaxed his muscles and let his head drop back onto the pillows. "Hannibal knows, too? Now I'm really in trouble."
B. A. nodded. "Face, too. He 'n' Cyndy stayed wit' you most o' the night after I got you back here."
"I can't miss dress rehearsal tonight, Big Guy. I gotta be there 'n' then we got openin' night on Friday 'n' five more performances after that." He started squirming again until fresh pain from his ribs froze him in place. A whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it.
"Do I gotta go get the Colonel to make you stay put? Yer hurtin' an' yer sick." The Sergeant crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at the injured man.
Murdock stared at him for a few seconds before sighing in defeat. "Alright. You got me so wrapped up in these blankets, can't get loose anyway. Face sleepin'? Wanna talk to him."
"Faceman an' Cyndy went into town to get some more apple juice, beef an' chicken broth an' jello. When they get back, you're gonna eat, then you're gonna rest. Got it?" B. A. leaned in closer with a menacing snarl on his lips.
The pilot shrank back. "Got it, ya big mudsucker." Then he gave the Sergeant a mischievous grin. "So do I get ta call ya Nurse Baracus now?"
B. A. shook his head and growled his disapproval.
ooooooo
As Face took bags of groceries from Cyndy and stowed them in the trunk of his Corvette, a white Ford Bronco pulled up on the opposite side of the street from the grocery store lot. Seconds later a light blue Mercury Cougar parked behind it.
Deke left the driver's side of the Cougar and strolled up to the open window of the truck. "Mr. Latreque wants to see you 'bout your boy, McKeever."
McKeever swiped a hand across his mouth and capped the bottle of whiskey, tucking it under the seat. "Got no more to talk 'bout with him. Boy's dead. Our deal's done."
The pseudo security guard laughed softly. "Mr. Latreque wants to see you anyway. Something 'bout loose ends. Now you can try to run 'n' hide but I think you know that Mr. Latreque gets what he wants all the time."
Giving Deke an apprehensive glance, McKeever nodded. "I'm goin' right now." He pulled his Bronco out into traffic with the other car following.
Deke glanced at Hollis and smirked. "Your Pa 's a smart business man. Knows when to hire and when to fire. McKeever's fired."
Several minutes later, both vehicles parked in the Latreque Enterprises lot. McKeever left his truck and swayed toward the building's entrance. He glanced over his shoulder with uncertainty at the two men in the Cougar before opening the door and disappearing inside.
"Aren't we gonna make sure he gets to my Pa's office?" Hollis frowned as the security guard shook his head.
"I'm sure McKeever wants this chapter of his sorry life to be over. He'll get there." Deke smiled as he eased the car into traffic and headed toward the Nederland Community Playhouse. "I have an idea 'bout how to shut down tomorrow's performance. If no one's 'round, should be easy."
"How you gonna do that?" Hollis tapped his fingers impatiently on the passenger's side arm rest.
"Didn't your Pa ever tell you the less you know the better?" Deke shot Hollis a cold glare. Hollis gulped. "All you have to do is exactly what I tell you and that McKeever kid'll never perform on stage again."