Encounters
Day Two:
Missing
The motel was another warehouse looking building situated on its own. The Team found it on the right side of the road as Terry said it would be, but much further than the attendant had indicated.
"'The Happy Hostel'?" Face asked, reading the blue glowing sign. It had a green neon flying saucer shape hovering over a pink bed.
"I have to go with BA on this one, Hannibal," Face said. One heartfelt demand from BA was all that interrupted the silence which befell them for the remainder trip to the motel. "The plan better be to get out while the getting's good."
"After we've had some rest." Hannibal had no idea what the flash of light was or what had caused it. He just knew he didn't want a repeat performance. He decided it would be wiser to stay off the road until morning. At least then they could see what was going on.
He left them standing in the parking lot to procure them some rooms. Except for a single motorcycle, the place was deserted. Even the blinking flying saucer shapes looked lonely.
"This is crazy," Face muttered, letting some of his irritation show. He wanted to be in the safe confines of some LA penthouse right now. They only just got there, and the town of Merlott was already grating on his nerves.
"Yeah." BA leaned against the van unhappily. He wanted to be somewhere else as well. He didn't really care where. Just preferably without the constant reminders of things not understood. "The town's sign shoulda said 'Home to the Loony Bin'."
"Hey," Murdock said indignantly. "I live there, remember? Believe me, the loony bin's never been as tacky as this." He was beginning to have second thoughts on liking the neon lit homage to UFOs. The incident with the light left him unaccountably shaken.
Hannibal returned with a set of keys. "We have adjoining rooms. Here you go Face, Murdock. We'll see you in the morning."
Hannibal tossed one of the keys toward them. Even dead tired, Murdock caught it easily and handed it to Face. The tag on the key ring – saucer shaped, of course – said they had Room 12.
"Come on, Murdock," Face said with a sigh. "There's a bed calling your name."
"And such a sweet siren song, too." Murdock tagged along to the appropriate door.
Hannibal and BA stopped at Room 11. 12 was just past them on the corner.
Face wasn't at all surprised to find himself sharing a room with Murdock. He was slightly more tolerant of prolonged exposure to the pilot than the others. Besides, if Murdock and BA ever roomed together, nobody would get any sleep.
Murdock was the last one in. He headed straight for the lone chair without even bothering to close the door. Face gave him an exasperated look but decided not to make an issue of it. All of Murdock's energy seemed to have drained as he stumbled to a halt. He carefully draped his leather jacket over the back of the chair. He hadn't worn it all day; Face doubted it would be needed tomorrow either. Murdock kicked off his shoes, flinging them under the chair so they hit the wall with a dull thud. He lost his balance a couple of times in the process and came precariously close to tripping. Finally, Murdock staggered over and belly flopped onto the bed with a contented sigh.
Face watched all this with a bemused expression. It was a good thing Murdock hadn't tried to change. He was out before the bed stopped bouncing. And he'd forgotten to take off his hat.
"That can't be comfortable," Face muttered. The baseball cap was askew and looked like it was pressing into Murdock's temple. Face carefully pulled it off and set on top of his jacket.
With a wide yawn, Face prepared himself for bed. He opened the window for some cool air, set the clock - which was annoyingly far from the bed - and joined Murdock in sweet oblivion. He remained there until the alarm clock rudely intruded.
"I'm up, I'm up," he muttered at the offending object before he managed to stagger over and hit it off. He stretched and tried to remember why they still followed the army habit of dawn rising.
Murdock was up already. His jacket and hat were missing. Face assumed he had gone to join Hannibal, the other early bird, for a morning jog before it became too hot. Or maybe to go bug BA awake, Face thought with a rueful grin. If that was the case, he sure didn't want to be next door right now.
After he showered and dressed, Face finally felt ready to join the others. Maybe they had gotten breakfast already, he thought with some anticipation. He knocked on the door and waited for the familiar ruffle of curtains moving.
Hannibal opened the door to reveal a tiny rectangle of a room nearly identical to the one he and Murdock shared. It was crammed with two single beds separated by a night stand with nothing standing on it. Against the wall opposite the beds was a short, long dresser. A lamp, a clock, and a brochure with the check out times rested on it. A thick, short chair sat wedged in the corner between the dresser and the short expanse of wall next to the bathroom door. And, like his own room, it was not occupied by the fourth member of the A-Team.
"Where's Murdock?" Face asked, taking a seat on the edge of one of the beds. BA sat in the only chair, currently in the process of lacing up his shoes.
"He roomed with you, Face," Hannibal reminded him.
"I know, but his bed's empty. I thought he came over here."
"Maybe he went to get breakfast." Hannibal grinned at this very desirable possibility.
"Man, he better not have taken my van." BA opened the door to a blast of already too warm air. He turned back to them with a puzzled expression on his face. "It's still there."
Hannibal slowly stood up, his grin fading with this news.
"You don't think he tried walking to the diner?" Face wouldn't put the notion past Murdock. He shuddered to think how hot that long walk would be.
BA shook his head. "The fool's not that crazy."
"No," Hannibal agreed. "But he might have gone to stretch his legs. I'll go talk to the office clerk and see if she's seen him around."
He returned a few minutes later, not looking very happy.
"I take it she hasn't seen him," Face guessed.
"No. The owner of that motorcycle was checking out. He heard us coming in, nothing after that."
"I wonder where he went?"
"Did he leave a note?" Hannibal asked.
"I didn't see any." Then again, Face hadn't thought to look. "But I'll go double check."
"Good idea. BA, take a drive down the road a little ways in either direction. It's still possible he just went for a walk."
"If I find him, it's possible I'll wring the sucka's neck," BA grumbled as he left.
Hannibal didn't reply to the threat. BA would be pissed if Murdock went and worried them simply because he unthinkingly didn't tell them where he was going. But Hannibal knew BA wouldn't actually harm the pilot regardless of how mad he was.
Face returned with a glum expression. "Nothing, Hannibal."
Hannibal didn't like this. First the odd light show last night, now this. Granted Murdock could be on the flaky side, but he knew better than to just go off on his own without a word. They had survived so long largely by keeping in touch. They each needed to be aware of where the others were in order to watch each other's backs, to sound the alarm when trouble came their way, and to expedite leaving in a hurry without leaving anyone behind.
"Face, try the local doctor's office," Hannibal said, unable to completely hide his worry. "I'm going to have another look around."
Hannibal had no luck finding clues to their pilot's whereabouts. The van pulled up as he was returning to the room. BA reported a similar lack of luck.
"Would you believe the guy was still in bed?" Face complained when they walked in. "Took me three tries to get him to answer the alternate number from the office's answering machine."
"Anything?"
"No. Says the last patient he's seen was a sick cat, and that was two days ago," Face said with a soft snort. "Since he was so hard to wake up, he even checked his pager while I was on the phone. Nothing."
Hannibal chose to take it as good news. Murdock, wherever he was, hadn't been injured, at least not enough for a doctor.
Hannibal chewed on an unlit cigar.
"I know that look, Hannibal." Face's tone said, 'give'.
"I get the feeling I missed something," Hannibal admitted begrudgingly. "Let's retrace our steps since we got into this town. I might figure out what."
Hannibal sighed inwardly as he led Face and BA to the van. It wasn't much, but it was something to do until a better plan came together.
Getting Hired
The morning sun was succeeding in its effort to bleach the color out of the road and sky. It managed to make even the colorful neon shapes decorating the windows of Marge's Diner seem monochrome. Inside was pleasantly less bright and quite a bit more colorful. The gift shop was now open, revealing shelves full of a strange mix of UFO and southwestern memorabilia. Murdock, Hannibal thought, would love it.
A lanky teenager with a missing tooth replaced Sylvie behind the counter. "Help you folks?" he asked upon seeing the three of them enter.
"We're looking for a friend of ours," Hannibal said, approaching the counter. "Tall guy wearing a leather jacket and blue baseball cap."
"In this weather?"
"Yeah. Seen him lately?"
"No, sorry," the kid answered. "Maybe the UFOs got him," he added with a grin and a wink.
"That's not nice," a young voice declared from the kid's side of the counter.
Hannibal leaned over it to see a girl sitting on the floor stacking plastic tumblers as if they were building blocks. It was the same one who had been asleep on the booth the night before. She frowned up at the kid, looking about ready to cry.
"Hey now, Sally," the kid tried to reassure here, "it's okay. UFOs don't really exist."
"Yes they do." The solemn pronouncement was accompanied by a sniff. She climbed to her feet, as if height might put more power behind her words.
The kid rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and tried again. "Naw, they're like, um, like the Wicked Witch of the West," he said, sounding pleased to strike on the idea. "You know, from the Wizard of Oz. Make-believe. Made up to scare you just for fun."
"They're not made up!" she insisted angrily, kicking at the tumbler tower. She only hit one cup, but the one acted like a domino. The whole structure collapsed with a clatter, sending cups rolling all over the floor. Sally rushed around the counter, nearly stumbling over one of the wayward cups, and flung herself onto what Hannibal had come to think of as her booth.
The kid watched the upset girl leave with a hangdog expression. "I'm sorry," he muttered.
Hannibal wasn't sure if the apology was directed at him for the spectacle or the girl for hurting her feelings.
BA started for the counter, a scowl plastered to his face. He took children's feelings very seriously. Hannibal shook his head once, a silent warning to BA not to interfere.
With a faint blush, the kid turned his full attention back to Hannibal. As he didn't look scared at all, just a bit upset about Sally, Hannibal had to conclude the teen never even noticed BA's reaction.
"Bad joke," the kid tried to explain with a sheepish half smile. "Can I get you anything to eat while you wait for your friend?"
Hannibal glanced back at Face and BA. BA had seated himself across the table from Sally and didn't acknowledge the question. Face nodded vigorously.
"The fastest breakfast you have to go." It wouldn't do to starve while they were searching for Murdock. "Three of them."
The kid nodded. He stuck his head through the door to the kitchen and shouted a code over the persistent back room racket. "It should be about ten, fifteen minutes," he informed Hannibal before excusing himself to go corral the cups.
Face joined Hannibal at the counter, taking a seat on the stool closest to the end. He smiled at Lucy, just coming out of the kitchen.
"You're here late," he said conversationally.
"My hours," Lucy replied with a distracted smile. She relaxed slightly when she caught sight of Sally, coloring and chatting with BA "I just got off."
"Then maybe you've seen our friend around since last night," Face asked without quite asking. "The one with the baseball hat."
"Who 'flew' his breakfast. I remember him," Lucy said with an amused smile.
"Have you seen him lately? We seemed to have misplaced him," Face said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Lucy's grin faded. "He's gone?"
Face shrugged and put on his best 'it's nothing' expression. "Probably went to do some exploring without telling us."
"At night?" Lucy asked softly, her gaze now fixed on Sally.
Hannibal and Face exchanged a look. "I don't know," Face admitted, confused at Lucy's reaction.
There was a haunted look in her eyes as she watched Sally choose another color from a crayon box. She blinked and shook her head slightly as if to clear it.
"I'm sorry," she said with soft sincerity. She wouldn't look them in the eye. "I'm sure he'll turn up soon. They always do."
"They?" Hannibal narrowed his eyes and watched her more closely. "People have gone missing around here before?"
"Yeah," Lucy breathed, her eyes trailing back to Sally. "That's why we're leaving." This last sounded more as if she were talking to herself.
"Excuse me for asking," Face cut in sharply, drawing Lucy's gaze back to them, "but do they come back… okay?"
She paused, considering if she should say anything. Lucy let out a heavy breath. "Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Look, all I know is that the last few months people have disappeared and shown back up, most of them okay except for two," she said quickly and in one breath.
"Two?" Face parroted again. "What happened to those two?"
"I don't know." Her fingers played the buttons on the cuffs of her sleeves. "Just that when they came back they weren't alive anymore."
The haunted look returned to her eyes. Sally glanced their way, squirmed uneasily, and returned to her drawing.
"Look, I'm sure your friend will be fine." Lucy tried to sound reassuring even though she looked as if she were about to cry. "Sally's fine. So your friend will be too."
"Sally?"
All three looked at the girl.
Face stood up. "Uh, can we ask her.…"
"No!"
Lucy's strident tone caused Sally to look up. She watched them apprehensively for a moment before BA talked her back into drawing.
"No," Lucy said again, keep her voice down this time. "She's afraid to even go in her room anymore. She won't sleep unless there's someone there with her, and I won't let anyone scare her more!" She rushed through her words without taking a breath.
Both men stepped back to give her some space. Face put his hands up in a 'you win' gesture. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just…."
"No," Lucy cut in with a shake of her head. "It's my fault. I know you guys are worried about your friend. But.…" She stopped, closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.
With a last gulped breath, Lucy opened her eyes again, appearing more in control of herself. "Look, I'm sorry about your friend," Lucy said, starting around the counter. "But I can't help you. We've got to go now. I've got packing to do and…. I'm sorry."
Lucy quickly gathered up Sally and her crayons and rushed out without saying anything more.
_ _ _ _
BA had taken a seat at the table the girl had fled to, intending to cheer her up.
"I won't cry," Sally said without looking up.
"It's all right to cry," BA said gently. "Everybody does."
"Even you?" She looked at him with wide searching eyes.
"When I'm hurtin' enough, yes."
She looked at her crayon box and carefully chose a color. "When you're scared?"
"Sometimes."
Sally, intent on her new drawing, fell silent.
BA watched the teenager who'd almost made her cry carry a load of cups into the kitchen. He nearly ran into the waitress who had served them the previous night. BA rolled his eyes at the wide grin Face gave her. Face was definitely feeling more like himself after getting some sleep. He even managed to sound as if asking after Murdock was no big deal to any of them.
"Is your friend really gone?"
The soft question brought BA's attention back to Sally. The girl was studiously not looking at him.
"Yes," he answered. He tried not to lie to kids. They had a sixth sense about them and knew when you were being untruthful in the same sort of way animals always knew when you were scared. It was a pity that sense so often disappeared after puberty.
"Was it at night, while he was in bed?"
"I don't know," BA admitted, puzzled at the girl's questions.
She stopped her drawing but kept her eyes on the paper. "The green men took him." This most definitely was not a question.
"The green men?"
She nodded, still not looking at him.
"Who are the green men?"
"They're bad people." She chose another color and started again on her drawing. "They like to scare people."
"Did they scare you?"
Sally took a deep breath, then nodded.
"Did these bad people hurt you?" BA asked through clenched jaws, trying not to let his anger show. He didn't want to be the one scaring her.
"No," Sally whispered. "Just scared me."
She put her crayon away and closed the box. Still not looking at him, she turned the paper around and pushed it toward him.
"What's this?"
"For you." Sally risked a quick glance up. She shyly returned his smile before looking away.
The drawing was of a group of stick people between a sun and a lopsided house of the same proportions. Three of the figures were drawn in lime green, with too big hands and no faces in the circles depicting their heads. Two of them were laying down next to the sun. The third had it's hands up in a surrender position. Closer to the house stood three stick people with smiling faces. The one closest to the green figures was drawn in black, the other two in pink.
"These are the green men?" BA asked.
Sally nodded. "And you… making them go away?" She looked up with that insecure question, her eyes asking 'can you?'
"I'll try," he promised before Sally's mother came to take her home.
BA watched them leave, barely noticing Hannibal and Face taking the newly vacated booth opposite of him. He wished he could get his hands on these 'green men'.
"That kid's scared of little green men," BA growled, finally with people he was allowed vent to.
"Green men?" Hannibal asked.
He pushed Sally's drawing over. Hannibal looked at it and lifted a brow.
"She wants us to make them 'go away'," BA said, explaining the drawing.
"And let me guess. You said 'yes'."
"I couldn't say no, Faceman."
Face sat back and grinned. "You mean that little girl just hired the A-Team with a drawing?" He chuckled, unable to resist teasing the big guy with the equally big heart.
The kid from behind the counter arrived before BA had a chance to reply. "Sorry they're late," he said, setting three to-go containers on the table. "Is there anything else I can get you? Drinks, gas, directions, souvenirs?"
"A map of the place would be useful," Hannibal said.
"And a couple of soda's," Face added. BA gave him a look. "Make that two sodas and a milk," he hastily amended.
"No problem. Be right back."
True to his word, the kid return promptly with two cups, a carton of milk, three straws and a handful of paper place mats.
"We're not eating here, kid," Hannibal reminded him.
The helpful teen chuckled. "I know. We get asked about maps so often they finally decided to print them on the backs."
Hannibal hadn't taken any notice of the place mats when they came in for dinner. He gave one a quick look before turning it over. It had the ubiquitous flying saucer hovering over a plain square building that claimed to be Marge's Diner. A highway ran next to it, with the 'Welcome to Marlott' sign on the side.
"Cute," Hannibal muttered.
On the backside, one road curved over the length of the lower third of the mat. Little squares with colored numbers lined the road on either side. There were a few gaps here and there, the most notable separating two boxes with the same number on opposite edges of the mat. On the top was a table of categories - food, momentos, special attractions, etc. - with correspondingly colored numbers listed below. It looked more like a map of a mall than of a town.
"Is Merlott really this two dimensional?"
The kid frowned, silently mouthing the words 'two dimensional'. "Oh." He brightened with understanding. "No, those are just the shops and stuff for the tourists. The back roads and the private residences aren't listed there. Small towns do like their privacy, believe it or not." He shrugged. "All the interesting stuff is on Main Street anyway."
"Thanks kid," Hannibal offered, fearing the maps would be little help in their quest to find Murdock.
The Search
They used the place mat map as a starting reference, despite Hannibal's misgivings of its usefulness. Someone had numbered the establishments in order of traveler appreciation. Both diners were numbered 1. Hannibal mentally marked off the one on the far left of the map. Number 2 was the Happy Hostel. Hannibal held back on the mental check. He still harbored some vague hope that they were overreacting. A quick stop at the motel, however, confirmed that Murdock was, in fact, missing.
BA parked the van at a little shop specializing in coffee and ice cream. It was a fairly central location where they could start to case Main Street, working their way out. Face started at the shop. BA took a pet supply store up the street a few buildings. Hannibal chose the mechanic's.
Graham's Garage was number 3 on the map. Number 4 belonged to its next-door neighbor, the sheriff's office. This was the building Hannibal was most interested in. He doubted Murdock had had an early morning run in with the authorities. Considering their history, however, it was a possibility he wanted to eliminate as soon as possible. If Murdock had ended up in jail, Hannibal could stop worrying and start on the simple matter of breaking him out.
Their last job had not required disguises, leaving an unprepared Hannibal with one of two options: walk right in and announce his presence, or try to sneak a peek without looking suspicious. Since the garage was right there and open, he thought he'd use it as an excuse to get closer to the sheriff's.
"Can you please try to be more careful? I'm still trying to clean the mess from the last time."
Hannibal could hear the one-sided argument from across the street.
"Lewis never complained before."
Hannibal approached Terry and a thick man with an uneven beard. They stood near a royal blue pickup blocking the sheriff's side of the driveway.
"My brother," Terry started bitterly, "never complained because it wasn't his truck to complain about!"
The bearded man took a startled step back.
Terry took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself down. "I realize you need to haul your carvings from the workshop to the sales shop. And that's fine, Brandon. I have no problem with that. Just put a tarp or something under them, okay? Or better yet, wait till they're dry before packing them. Anything, I don't care, just no more of that!"
Hannibal followed Terry's gesturing and winced in sympathy. It looked as if someone had gotten sick in psychedelic colors all over the bed of the pickup. The mix of colors stood out horribly against dark blue.
"Neon green is a great color," Terry went on, quietly picking out the predominant shade in the bright splash, "for a neon sign. Not for a pickup."
Brandon stepped back again, bumping into said pickup.
Terry sighed wearily, suddenly feeling bad. "Here, take the thing," he said lowly, offering the keys. "I'll be by later to tow yours in again. Maybe we'll actually get it fixed."
Brandon snatched the keys as if they might bite him and hurried into the truck. He gunned the engine a few times before taking off, much to Terry's annoyance.
"Please don't tell me you need a mechanic, too," he begged Hannibal, wearily eyeing the distinctive van parked down the street.
"No," Hannibal said. He was about to add, "We already have one," when Terry cut in on the 'we'.
"Good!" Terry vented, throwing up his hands. He stomped over to one of the parked cars and jerked the hood open. "Because even I can't work miracles without the proper supplies!"
Terry stopped, hung his head for a moment, and sighed. "I'm sorry," he said with a groan. "I didn't sleep much last night." He turned to face Hannibal. "And I'm already having a bad day." As if to prove his words, the prop gave way, and hood slammed shut behind him.
Terry winced. He tackled the hood again, this time jabbing the prop in tight.
"I'm not having a terrific day, myself," Hannibal said to Terry's back. He moved to one side to get a better look at the windows across the driveway. The sun reflecting from them made it difficult to see inside.
Terry apologized again. "So, if you're not here for a mechanic," he started, peering into the engine, "then what can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for a friend, one of the people I came in with."
"Which?"
Hannibal moved to the other side of Terry. "Name's Murdock. Tall fellow with the baseball hat." This angle was slightly better. He could read the stenciling on the windows now. He couldn't see any further than the writing, though. It appeared the office was darkened.
"He has a leather jacket with a big cat on the back," Hannibal continued, turning away from the sheriff's building. "Seen him?"
"Not since dinner last night, no." Terry gave him a sideways look. "He's not in there, though."
Hannibal didn't react to getting caught, he was too good an actor for that. Instead, he put on a faintly puzzled expression as if to say 'why would you say that?'
Terry turned his attention back to inspecting the engine. "Haven't even unlocked it yet," he said. "When did you see him last?" Terry raised his voice as he leaned over to jiggle tubing in the back.
"Last night when we made it to the motel." Hannibal was pleased to find somebody who seemed interested. "He took the neighboring room."
"Sure he didn't go sight seeing on his own?"
"Positive."
"Thought so," Terry muttered to himself. He straightened and turned to meet Hannibal eyes. "I'll keep an eye for him, see if anyone has seen him."
"Thanks."
"Where will you be? In case I learn something."
"Around," Hannibal said vaguely. He didn't expect Terry would have a hard time locating them if he really wanted it to. If he knew his small towns, before long everyone will know where they are.
_ _ _ _
"Were you out by the Happy Hostel last night?" the clerk asked BA as soon she noticed him.
"Yeah."
"Did you happen to see a dog running around that ways?" The short woman, wearing a pair of tiny bifocals, peered up hopefully. "Tall, mangy mutt? I still haven't figured out his mix."
"No, no dogs."
"Oh," she sighed. "I wonder where the ugly thing's gone to?" the woman muttered. "I hope it didn't go and do anything stupid."
BA knew exactly how she felt. Maybe Murdock and the dog were keeping each other out of trouble. He shook his head at the thought. That was something Murdock would say.
"You see a crazy fool in here today?" He didn't see any actual animals about, but there were enough toys to keep any pet - and Murdock - happy indefinitely.
"We're all crazy here." The clerk chuckled softly. "Which fool do you have in mind?"
BA decided he liked her.
"Sorry," she said after he described Murdock to her. "Wish I could be more helpful."
"Not your fault."
"Are you trying here for any special reason? Does he have a dog?" She sounded as if dogs were the only possible reason a person would come into a pet store.
BA snorted. "An invisible one."
"Ah." She nodded sagely. "Those are the hardest to shop for."
BA agreed with the clerk: they were all crazy here.
_ _ _ _
Face wondered if he was losing his touch. There were only two customers in the little shop. The elderly couple sat at a tiny table, enjoying coffee and sherbet, and carrying on a conversation that was louder on her side than his. It took four tries before he could finally get their attention, and then it was to get yelled at.
"You'll have to speak up dear," the lady said in a voice permanently pitched for the hearing impaired. "My husband doesn't hear very well."
Face took a breath and tried again. "I said, I was hoping you might have seen my friend around."
"Seen a lot of people in my day, sonny." The aging gentleman squinted up at him.
"Be nice," the woman scolded him. She turned an attentive smile to Face. "What's your friend look like?"
The couple hadn't noticed Face standing right there in front of them, he doubted they would have seen Murdock. He tried anyway. "Well, he's taller than me. He wears a leather jacket with a cat on the back."
"In this weather?" the lady interrupted before he could go on. "Why?"
"Well, he might not actually be wearing it."
"But you just said he was," the man grumbled.
"He'd definitely have it with him," Face compromised, trying to be polite and keep his temper at the same time. "He would have his baseball cap on. He might have been out this morning. Or very late last night."
"Night," the old man snorted. "Kids for ya!"
"Oh, don't be a party pooper, dear," the woman chided. "It's all part of the show. First they'll tell you about alien abductions, then someone'll come and tell you all about the little green men and whatever it is they want. It's how they make their living around here. And it's supposed to be fun." She explained all this to her husband in what she obviously thought of as conspiratorial privacy. "Play along."
She turned to Face and flashed him a condescending smile. "Do go on, dear," she encouraged. "Were there a bunch of flashing lights and eerie noises when they took him?"
Face gave her a sickly smile. It was hopeless trying to talk to these two, they didn't even believe Murdock was really missing. He tried to politely disengage from the conversation, she kept trying to pull him back with ridiculous questions.
"I think I saw your friend."
Startled, Face turned to the voice. It belonged to the only employee.
"You did?" He was glad to finally be getting somewhere. "Where?"
The man made a 'come here' gesture with his head. Face hastily excused himself, leaving the old couple talking about what they might possibly see next.
"You know where Murdock is?"
The man gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, no. You just looked like you were need of rescuing."
"Oh." Face was too disappointed to be angry.
"Coffee?"
"No, thanks."
"Sure? It's on the house." And for the house. The man poured himself a cup. "That story'll keep them here for a while, the way the lady's going on about it."
"It's not a story."
The man nodded understandingly. "Friend left you behind, huh?"
"Murdock didn't leave." Face snapped defensively.
"They do that around here," the man went on undeterred. "Some folks tend to get a little too into things. I'll bet he'll get bored in a couple of hours and show up again."
"I hope so," Face sighed. He changed his mind and accepted the coffee. If the search kept on like this, it was going to be a very long day.
Reappearance
Searching the town proved to be an exercise in futility. Twice they got lost on the 'back roads' that made up the town proper. A large mangy cat chewed them out when they stopped to ask for directions. It's equally irate owner brandished a shot gun when they didn't leave his property quick enough. Other than the one incident, the townspeople proved friendly enough. However, they were singularly unhelpful in locating Murdock. Some joked that UFOs had paid him a visit. A few were amazingly serious about the idea. No one was particularly inclined to enlighten them about the rash of disappearances Lucy had spoken about. But everyone agreed "he'll turn up soon".
They slowly drove from one end of town to the other, finally ending up at the other Marge's Diner. They waited in the duplicate while a friendly waiter called the first location to see if Murdock had shown up since the Team left that morning. When that venue turned up empty, Hannibal decided it was time to return to the motel.
Hannibal left a grumpy BA in the van. "Someone has to be in ear shot in case Murdock tries to call," he reasoned. "We'll try the doctor's again then come keep you company."
Face hustled into his corner room, not bothering to close the door. Unless he had problems getting in touch with the local doctor again, he wouldn't be there long. The room had been cleaned since they left. The beds were made, the carpet had vacuum lines; and the bathroom, which Face habitually kept closed, was ajar. Near the door was a sign that someone had been there after the cleaning person. Peeking out were the tips of a pair of familiar sneakers.
"Murdock?" Face cautiously pushed the bathroom door open, careful not to disturb the shoes. He was relieved to find Murdock still in them.
"Hannibal! BA!" Face shouted at the front door.
Face carefully picked his way around Murdock. He was on his side, half curled to fit his long form into the not so long bathroom. Face knelt by his head and held his breath as he checked for a pulse. He let it out with a muttered prayer of thanks upon finding a nice strong beat.
"Hannibal, it's Murdock," Face called unnecessarily when Hannibal and BA rushed into the room.
"BA, help me move him," Hannibal ordered. Face pushed Murdock up to a sitting position. Hannibal and BA each took an arm and half-carried, half-dragged Murdock to the nearest bed, leaving Face to follow the awkwardly moving trio.
Murdock sighed heavily and murmured something.
"What did he say?"
"Don't know."
They finally maneuvered him onto the bed. Murdock mumbled something, louder but still garbled, when his head hit the mattress.
"Murdock?" Hannibal asked, just to see how close to the world of the conscious Murdock really was. Hannibal lifted one of his eyelids. He was pleased when fought the gesture. He wasn't so happy to find Murdock's brown eyes were glassy and the pupils dilated.
"Murdock? Can you hear me?"
Murdock's brows creased together. He blinked hard a couple of times and squinted at Hannibal. Hannibal doubted Murdock quite saw him.
"Colonel?" Murdock managed to get the word out clearly enough to be understood. The slurred question was laced with confusion.
"Captain."
Murdock blinked some more, making an obvious effort to clear his mind and focus more on his surroundings.
"Hey Faceman, you're awake!" Murdock grinned with pleasure at seeing his friend.
Face frowned at the nonsequitur. His expression wavered from 'is-he-okay' to 'huh?' and back again.
Murdock didn't notice the changes in Face's expression, his gaze having fallen on BA by this time. His grin turned into the loony half smile he liked to put on when pushing BA's buttons.
"BA, you been takin' care of Billy for me?"
Murdock reached out to pat BA's shoulder. He succeeded only in waving air in the vicinity of BA's arm.
BA stepped back, nonplused. "The fool's drunk, man," he said, stating the only explanation he could think of for behavior that was odd even by Murdock's standards.
"I am not drunk," Murdock said indignantly. His speech was becoming a little clearer. As he struggled to sit up, he added, "I haven't had anything to drink since, uh, since…. Oh. Breakfast!" Murdock stabbed the air above his head with a finger as if to point out the memory - or the flickering light bulb. Unfortunately, the movement ruined what little progress he'd made in getting up and his head bounced back on the mattress.
"And that was orange juice," Murdock said as an afterthought, with a silly grin for BA
Murdock made an attempt at rubbing his eyes. He frowned when he managed instead to massage his eyebrows. Not trusting his aim to try again, he pulled his fingers down to the appropriate spot.
"What are you guys doing here?" he mumbled behind his hand.
"Looking for you," Face said. His tone was one of a man who couldn't decide whether to be concerned or amused.
The answer was enough for Murdock, who acknowledged it with a simple, "Oh."
He tried once again to push himself up. Hannibal and Face assisted him to a sitting position. Feet hanging off the foot of the bed, Murdock looked blankly at his Team.
"Where have you been, Murdock?" Hannibal tried. He wasn't certain he'd get any straight answers in Murdock's current condition.
Murdock pondered the question for a long moment.
"Captain?" Hannibal prompted when it appeared the pilot had drifted away from them.
"Hmm?"
"Where've you been?"
A wide grin spread across Murdock's face.
"Flying!"
To emphasize the point he spread his arms out in an imitation of a plane's wings. He lost his precarious balance in the process, and flopped back on the bed.
The sound of chains rattling alerted Hannibal to company. A kid in a red T-shirt sat on his bike watching the spectacle.
"BA" Hannibal nodded toward the still open door.
BA grunted and moved to give the Team some privacy.
The dreamy expression still plastered to his face, Murdock sighed heavily. "I hate being grounded," he bemoaned.
"Murdock?" Face started, taking over the questioning.
"Yeah, Faceman?"
"Who were you flying for?"
"Them," Murdock said simply.
Face was almost afraid to ask. "Who are 'them'?"
Face and Hannibal helped Murdock up again. Face kept a hand on his shoulder this time to help keep the pilot steady.
"Them. The UFOs."
"UFOs?" Face echoed skeptically.
"Yeah." Murdock somehow managed to frown and smile at the same time. "They want to hire us."
"Who does?"
"The UFOs, silly."
"UFOs want to hire the A-Team?" Face repeated just to be sure he had heard correctly.
Murdock grinned at him. "Yep."
"Why would UFOs want to hire us?"
"Oh, people missing, people getting scared, people turning up dead," Murdock explained. He waved a hand to encompass the town, narrowly missing BA with the swing. Face had to use both hands to keep a swaying Murdock upright. "All that's gotta be bad for business. They have an image to maintain, you know," he added conspiratorially to a fellow image maintainer.
"Murdock."
Murdock turned his head in Hannibal's direction, eyebrows raised.
"Who told you people were turning up dead?"
"They did."
"The UFOs?" Face checked.
"Yes."
"Murdock." Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder. "What did you tell these… 'UFOs' about the Team?"
The seriousness of the question penetrated through Murdock's haze. His looked at his lap, frowning deeply. Finally, he shook his head.
"I don't know, Colonel." He sounded both annoyed at himself and worried. "I just know they need our help."
"I don't get it," Face said, getting back into his usual role of playing along. "Why would a UFO want our help? What could we possibly do that they can't?"
"Same thing we always do, Faceman. Catch the bad guys."
"But the UFOs are the bad guys."
"No, they're not. Kidnapping and killing isn't their style."
"But Murdock, they kidnapped you," Face reminded him gently.
"No they didn't," Murdock said with a yawn.
"Crazy fool," BA finally spoke up. "You were gone for most the day."
"A day?" This was apparently news to Murdock.
"Yes, Murdock, a day," Face reiterated softly. "Were you chatting with your UFOs the entire time?"
A frown flitted past, chased by another smile. "No. I told you, Face, I was flying."
The furrow in his brow came back. He looked as if he were trying to recall something not quite pleasant.
"What?"
"It sounded wrong," Murdock muttered, still looking confused.
"What sounded wrong?"
"But it sure could move," Murdock said to no one in particular.
"Murdock?"
The dreamy look returned. "Hmm?" Murdock answered half-heartedly, eyes now definitely focused elsewhere.
"Let him get some rest, Face," Hannibal said. He pulled the blankets down from the bed. "We might get something that makes more sense after he's had some sleep."
"Man, Murdock ain't never made sense."
"Murdock makes sense in his own way, BA," Hannibal defended. "Now, give me hand. Face, go get our dinner before it gets totally cold."
"Yeah, sure," Face muttered as he left for the van. "Always the go-fer."
Hannibal pushed the unresisting pilot backwards. His eyes were closed by the time his head hit the bed.
"Do you think they'll let me fly again, Colonel?" Murdock murmured.
Hannibal glanced at BA, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. He and Hannibal pulled Murdock up a bit so his legs were on the bed as well.
"Sure you will, Murdock," Hannibal answered softly as he put the pillow under Murdock's head.
Murdock smiled at the reassurance.
"Just not with me, sucka," BA added in a mutter.
"'Course not, BA," Murdock mumbled, a small, amused smile gracing his nearly asleep features. "'Course not."
His breathing evened out, save for the soft snores already beginning.
BA shook his head. "Crazy fool and your flying," BA muttered to himself. Anybody who didn't know him would have thought he was angry at Murdock for this particular passion. But the gentleness with which he removed Murdock's shoes and pulled the blankets over the pilot belied BA's tone.
"Is he okay?" Face set their packages down on the dresser and closed the door on any potential audiences.
"Just sleeping," Hannibal assured him. He dragged the chair over the free bed, which was now serving double duty as seats and table.
"So what do you think, Hannibal?" Face passed a styrofoam carton and a set of plastic utensils to each of his companions.
"No such thing as flying saucers," BA growled, but kept his voice lowered so he wouldn't disturb Murdock. "Somebody been messin' with the fool's head."
He glanced at Murdock, a scowl creasing his face. He wanted to get his hands on that somebody. The poor fool's head had been messed with enough. Trying to get a handle on his anger, he took a deep drink from his cup. He pulled the carton away from his lips, a disgusted looked on his face.
"Milk's warm," he complained.
"Sorry, BA," Hannibal said. "I didn't think to ask for an insulated cup."
"Here's some water," Face offered. "It has ice in it."
"Thanks," BA muttered unhappily. He took a long pull from the straw to bring the level down before taking off the lid. He sighed as he transferred some of the ice from the water to the milk. Watered down milk didn't taste as good, but it certainly beat out-of-the-fridge-too-long warm.
"I think BA's right," Hannibal said around a forkful of food "But I think they were trying to mess with all of our heads."
"What do you mean?"
"I think they took Murdock for the same reason they've been taking other people in the town – to scare them, and us, off."
"Not gonna work, man," BA grumbled.
"Not with us, no," Hannibal agreed. "But it sure is working with the other folks around here."
"The question is: why?"
"Yeah, all they got here are cheesy souvenirs." BA's voice was muffled slightly by a mouthful of fries.
"And the military base," Hannibal pointed out.
"If someone wanted something from the base, why not just sneak in there and take it?"
"We don't know if the base has anything to do with it," Hannibal stated. "I do know that a town like this can't exist on its own. It probably came into being when that base was still active. Now it's a tourist attraction. Use the feature attraction to scare away the tourists and it doesn't even have the luxury of a well-used highway to keep it from becoming a ghost town."
"And you think someone wants to make it a ghost town," Face concluded. "Which still leaves us with the 'why'. What's here?"
"A whole bunch of nothin'," BA summed up.
Hannibal agreed. "Something doesn't add up. I don't like it."
"Well, that makes all of us," Face said exasperatedly.
Hannibal didn't say anything for along moment. The way he pondered and toyed with his food made Face uncomfortable.
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm worried about what Murdock might have told them about us," Hannibal admitted reluctantly.
"I'm not sure I like what you're saying, Hannibal," Face said, his tone almost a warning.
"Yeah, Hannibal," BA added defensively. "Murdock wouldn't say nothin' to anyone about us."
"Under normal circumstances, no." Hannibal jabbed his fork into the remains of his food and put the container aside. "But there's no telling what kind of drugs they gave him."
"Drugs?" Face looked ill. He, too, put his food aside.
"You don't really think he was drunk, do you?" Hannibal asked skeptically.
Face watched Murdock sleeping. They had all seen him drunk before, though it had been awhile. Murdock didn't act like that when he was plastered. "You don't think they gave him anything dangerous, do you? Maybe we should take him to the doctor."
"No, we don't know who's involved in this. And it sounds like everyone who's been abducted have returned without ill effects."
"Except two," BA softly reminded them.
All eyes turned to Murdock, blissfully unaware of the silent tension of his comrades.
"We have to do something." Face broke the quiet with soft determination.
"We will."
"You have a plan." It wasn't a question. They had all seen that look in the Colonel's eyes often enough.
Hannibal grinned. "First thing in the morning, we're going to get to know this town better."