Morale

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

Chapter 50 Black Dog Bullies

Before Murdock could sidestep and get out of the way, O'Keene ran his head full force into the pilot's back. Both of them tumbled into the surf, Murdock face down in the waves. The Marine landed to the Captain's right, creating a huge splash.

Forgot I ain' got that great o' reaction time with this knee th' way it is.

Murdock twisted around and sat up in the water, sputtering as he did. His brown hair plastered to his forehead and saltwater stinging his eyes, he greedily gulped in two breaths through his mouth. O'Keene gripped his head with both hands and forced him underwater again. Frantically Murdock clawed at his assailant's arms as he swallowed a mouthful of water.

Is this how I'm gonna die? He's gonna drown me?

His attacker grasped him by the hair with one hand to bring his head above water again. He landed a solid punch to the pilot's right eye and another to his chin. As ferocious as the attack was, Murdock had little time to react. He sagged in the other man's grip for a second before feebly struggling to get free.

"Hey, O'Keene! I thought ya said you needed help." The man who the Marine identified by the nickname 'Hurt' jeered at them from the shoreline. "Drag the Army rat up here so I can have some fun, too."

O'Keene grunted his agreement and gripped Murdock by the collar of his pajama shirt. Rising to his feet, he pulled the Captain through the surf and onto the damp off-white sand.

The pilot lay on his back gasping for breath, his eyes open to half-slits as the two attackers moved into place either side of him. He knew he should roll to his side and curl up into a defensive posture but the struggle in the water had sapped much of his strength.

Billy was pleading with Murdock. Don' give 'em any lip, big brother. Don' get 'em all riled up. They got th' upper hand.

I know that, he snapped back silently. But no one's 'round t' fight this one for me. If I don' do it now, they'll find me 'lone some other time, maybe somewhere where no one'll see it happenin' at all. I gotta make sure they're caught in th' act.

He scanned the beach for anyone who might wade in to stop the beating he knew was coming. The guys playing football in the surf were too far away to know exactly what was going on.

Maybe if it looks bad 'nough , they will.

Right now, the 'crazy' was coursing through his system. He had to make sure these two were seen as the attackers and got what they deserved.

The cut on his chin from O'Keene's second punch was bleeding freely, blood streaking down his throat in several red lines. His eye was beginning to swell shut, reducing his vision.

"Well, c'mon, honey poo. Wanna replay the 'From Here To Eternity' beach scene with me? Or do ya swing that way, sweetheart?" he managed to hiss.

That remark elicited a heel to the abdomen from 'Hurt.' Murdock yelped as he felt two ribs crack. His vision blurred with the resulting pain. He groaned as he clutched his side with both hands.

The next kick landed in the middle of his stomach, driving the breath from him.

A shadow passed over his face as O'Keene reached for the discarded cane. "This's what he used on me yesterday, Mike. Let's see if I can use it better than him. Hold him so he don't get away."

Mike fell to the sand and forced Murdock's arms up over his head. Tucking the injured man's forearms under his knees he grinned into his face. "This's gonna hurt you more 'n it does us. Right, Ben?"

"Ya ain' got th' guts t' fight me one on one, fists only, huh?" Murdock heard himself say the words and cursed inwardly. He never could prevent himself from saying the wrong things at the wrong time.

'N' this's def'nitely th' wrong time.

He turned his head to the side to see if any of the football players had noticed the attack. Three of the men were jogging towards them, yelling as they came.

Hope they get here soon 'r I'm gonna be creamed.

It was the last thought he had before the cane came down across his temple and splintered into pieces.

oooooo

B. A. stood on the beach with Nurse Ann beside him. Half of the broken cane was in his hand. As he watched, helpless to do anything else, the corpsmen carefully lifted Murdock onto the stretcher.

The pilot stared into the distance, barely blinking, one pupil dilated. His breathing was shallow and ragged. He had not responded to any of the head corpsman's questions.

MPs prodded Ben O'Keene and Mike Jeffers up the beach toward a building which would serve as a temporary holding cell.

"This ain't over," O'Keene sneered over his shoulder at the black Sergeant. "Let him know that."

B. A. shot a dark look at the two men's backs as the MPs pushed them faster through the sand and away from the scene of the attack.

"They won't get anywhere near him. Don't worry about that. There were too many witnesses," Ann murmured, her hand resting lightly on the Sergeant's upper arm.

"I shoulda been here. I shoulda known O'Keene'd make a move if he thought I was gone ta Da Nang." He ran his hand over his forehead and scowled down at the sand. The note Murdock left him weighed heavily on his mind. "Fool's never been real good at stayin' outta trouble. He was tryin' ta draw O'Keene out an' I didn't see it comin'."

"How could you have foreseen this? You couldn't be with him around the clock to prevent it. You know that." The nurse pursed her lips at the guilt she heard in his voice.

The Sergeant shook his head. The corpsmen lifted the stretcher and trudged toward the ward, B. A. and Ann following along behind.

"I shoulda been here," B. A. repeated under his breath.

oooooo

"Ya crazy fool. What'd ya think you was doin'?" B. A. muttered. He sat in the visitor's chair, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. He knew he wouldn't get a response. There had been no response ever since the football players yanked O'Keene off Murdock and B. A. and Ann appeared on the scene.

A neat row of four stitches closed the cut on the pilot's chin. A gauze pad, held in place by a white bandage around his head, covered the wound caused by the cane. He had not closed his eyes since the attack except to blink.

The doctor gave B. A. a temporary reprieve from being sent back to Da Nang. Thankful, the Sergeant decided to spend as many minutes during the day at Murdock's bedside as he could. He knew sooner or later the doctor would book him for a flight out of Cam Ranh Bay. Until then . . .

"O'Keene an' his buddy ain' gonna get to you 'gain. I won't let 'em." B. A. watched Murdock's face for any sign he heard the promise. Seeing none, he bowed his head over his clasped hands.

The two pages of the Captain's letter to Cyndy were spread out on the end of the bed. Some of the ink had blurred but B. A. figured enough of it was salvageable to attempt to dry it out. He hadn't meant to read it when the doctor removed it from Murdock's pocket and gave it to him.

The small section he did see sounded like someone deep in despair had written it. He peered again at the man in the bed.

"So ya made your decision ta stay in Nam after all. Said yer goodbye ta that li'l gal an' yer folks back home. Why?" B. A. sighed and shifted back into an upright position in the seat.

He couldn't understand Murdock and the way he thought about things. Maybe I shouldn't try.

Reaching out, he took the hand that was closest to him and squeezed it. "Someday this war's gonna be over. You an' me, we'll be goin' home ta the people who's waitin' for us. Don't cut your ties to 'em, man."

He hoped the pilot heard those words.

But Murdock continued to stare into space, seemingly unaware of B. A.'s presence.

oooooo

All Murdock could feel was pain. It shot through his head. Every breath he took hurt.

B. A. was beside him. He sensed the black Sergeant's presence even though his vision saw B. A. as a fuzzy black blur in light blue clothes. The Sergeant said something. His voice was a muffled rumble. The words were lost in the air between them.

He didn't want to go to sleep. It was dangerous for him to sleep. The nightmares would return and maybe the next time he wouldn't wake up screaming. Maybe he wouldn't wake up at all.

oooooo

In the late afternoon, the flight from Camp Evans brought patients in to the Cam Ranh Bay Convalescent Center.

Nurse Ann checked the shoulder wound of one of the patients and smiled down at him. "You're just in time for supper, soldier. We'll get you settled in and I'll make sure you get a tray delivered to you."

"That'd be great but I don't need it as much as those two guys over there. Ex-POWs. Gooks must have starved them nearly to death in the camps." The patient dropped his voice to a low murmur as he gestured toward the patients he meant. In his tone was a hushed kind of awe. "The way they looked when they were brought into the ward at Camp Evans, I wonder how they ever survived."

"Ex-POWs?" The nurse drew in a sudden breath of realization. "Would you excuse me?"

She made her way over to the two men. Looking at them, she noted the gaunt features of both and thought back to Captain Murdock's emaciated appearance when he was transferred to the facility.

"Would either of you men happen to know a Captain H. M. Murdock and a Sergeant B. A. Baracus?" She wasn't surprised when both men turned their full attention on her.

"Murdock? Where is he? I've got to see him." The patient clutched her hand, anxiety on his face. The other breathed a quiet "Thank God!"

"I'll do better than that. I'll try to get you placed in the beds right next to him." She patted the dark-haired man on the shoulder and gave his friend a smile before going to the doctor with her request.