Chapter 7 - Pongo Persuasions and Pigeon Promises
I can hear her heartbeat from a thousand miles; and the heavens open up every time she smiles.
And when I come to her, that is where I belong; and I'm running through her like a river's song...
Van Morrison ~Crazy Love (1970)
"You have no idea... how much I've always... wanted to try that," he panted, trying desperately to catch his breath through the starry vision of ecstasy. His eyes were drawn to the switches above, along with the green underside of his crooked hat.
She rested her head against his bare, fuzzy chest, then giggled. "You mean in a cockpit?"
"Oh, yeah." A narrow stream of air passed through his lips in a slow, content exhale, then he lifted the corner of his mouth into a playful smirk. "Gives a whole new meaning of the word 'turbulence', doesn't it?"
"And eject."
He snickered hard, then leaned back against the seat to relax, his entire body still tingling. Finally, a sense of normalcy was sinking in after earning another notch on the mission bedpost - aside from the crazy 'stunt flying' they'd just pulled. This was exactly what he'd imagined sanity would be like - the way his chin rested on the top of her head while his fingertips pressed into her waist, still joined at the...
"Tiger, how much longer are you going to keep this up?"
He lifted his head. The first thing he noticed was the seriousness in her smile. The second, her chest. His eyes darted back and forth between the two. "Forever, I hope." When she bit her lip and looked up in response, he blurted out, "Hey, a man can dream, can't he?"
"Keep dreaming," she teased, then traced his chin, eyes sparkling. "C'mon Tiger, I know you still haven't told the guys about..."
"I will, I will." He dipped his chin to hide his sudden wince behind the brim of his hat. "I wasn't expecting things to be so hectic when we got back. I'll tell them today, I promise."
She lifted his hat and their knowing eyes met. "I believe you." Her gaze turned to his lips and leaned in for another moment of...
"Hey, Junior! Where you at?"
They suddenly froze. "Uh-oh." She quickly grabbed their shirts that were hanging off the yoke behind her, and they hurriedly pulled them on in unison.
"Yeah, uh-oh," he groaned in agreement as she quickly slid off of him and his eyes snapped up to the heavens as quickly as his zipper.
She reached for the cockpit's latch and popped it open just as her flight suit zipper was at her neck. "Morning Dave, you're early!" she called out, then checked her watch and gaped. "I mean, on time... sorry! We lost track of things up here - hey, you seeing this new bird, Dave - isn't she just wild? So, how's your day going?"
"Oh, it's going just fine..." He crossed his arms as he stared up at the two, sizing up the situation as fast as her rambling. "Just making sure you came back safe last night after the looks of those customers of yours. Well, well, well... I see Mr. 'trial partnership' is finally back too - it's about time."
"Hi, Dave," Murdock guiltily waved from the cockpit.
Dave warily eyed him back. "H.M."
"Oh yeah... about that 'trial situation', Dave," A.J.'s smile beamed down at him. "H.M. and I have some news to tell everyone and we want you to be the very first to know what's been happening around here."
"Oh yeah?" Curious now, his eyes widened. "What's that, Junior?"
"We're, uh..." They looked at each other and smiled. "Well, Dave - it's official! We're p-"
"Pregnant?" Dave shouted thunderously up at them, his cheeks now beet red as he glared at Murdock, who immediately covered his face.
"Uh, no- not quite, Dave!" A.J. gaped in disbelief as Murdock snickered - he'd answered Face verbatim only just yesterday. "Partners, Dave! We're full partners - wow, your imagination is running wilder than ever." She quickly scrambled down from the plane's wing, then playfully elbowed him in the side. "That wasn't funny!"
"Ow! Hey, go easy Junior, I'm not as young as I used to be; and well... neither are you, obviously." Dave eyed Murdock as he finally climbed down from the plane's protection and hesitantly walked over to them. "Partners, huh?"
"Yes, it's officially-official that this brilliant captain," she grabbed Murdock's hand and pulled him closer to Dave, "is now licensed and certified for full-time flight here, anywhere and anytime he chooses."
"Wow, well, I guess it is congratulations then." Dave finally offered his hand out to Murdock, who shook it eagerly. "And yes, that's one mighty fine bird you have there, I gotta say."
As Dave stared at the plane in awe, Murdock winked at A.J. instead. "She's a beauty, isn't she? Really glad to be on board here."
"Well, I haven't seen Junior happy like this since... before." His gaze solemnly fell, then looked back with moist eyes. "You know, you remind me of Al a bit."
"Aw," Murdock lit up at the thought. "I think all us pilots are cut from the same cloth anyway."
"You think so? Well H.M., looks like yours was cut backwards," Dave pointed at Murdock's inside-out shirt, then solemnly shook his head. "Tsk, what would her daddy think?"
Murdock looked down at the backwards and faded 'Captain Awesome' shirt, his hat hiding a broad grin.
"He would've loved him, Dave," A.J. hugged the old man, then kissed his wrinkly stubble covered cheek. "Because I do - promise you that!"
"Promise, huh?" He studied her for a moment as she took Murdock's hand, then heaved a deep sigh. "All right then, partners," he teased in a southern Eastwood drawl. "I gotta get going. Mayfield is waiting for their delivery so I'll see you in a couple days. Fly safe, guys."
As they watched him drive away, her embarrassing groan soon followed. "Oh my - that was too close. No more flying lessons with you, Tiger!"
He quickly flipped his shirt back around, then nudged her, teasing, "You don't need any. So, you love me, huh?"
"Yeah, well, I had to get Dave off your case somehow." She teased back, then shook her head. "We really shouldn't say it since we agreed to keep things loose - you know, with you being a secret C.I.A. operative and all, remember? Priorities first, Empress Nine."
"Ugh, you know what, Ace Parker? You're beginning to sound just like Hannibal."
"So long as it's one of us. I often wonder what he think's of me - sometimes I get this feeling..."
"Hannibal adores you. He's just trying to protect us - you."
"Me? But I don't need protecting - except maybe from you and I have Dave for that."
"Yeah, and he's doing a lousy job too," he couldn't help but tease, then his voice grew solemn. "Hannibal though, I think his is coming from being on the run for so long. There's always been this..." he struggled to find the right words to explain it, "this inability to forge anything long-term. It complicates things and creates leverage against our favor when it comes to our enemies. It's happened before - it's happened to me."
"Yes, you told me, and that's exactly why I'm not feeling very reassured here about tightening up, because you're making it sound like you and the guys might be taking off for good someday-"
"No." He held his finger to her lips. "That was before - and they're not running anymore. It's pardons or bust and the only taking off I ever plan on doing now is on that runway out there." He jerked his thumb towards the plane. "I've had three weeks to think about it, and I made the decision that when this Stockwell business is all over and done with, I want to be here for the long flight... with you."
"Long flight? What's a long flight, besides the red-eye to L.A.? Marriage, kids?" She covered her now blushing face. "C'mon, remember that night before you flew me home when you made that crack about my genetics, so I teased you about kids? I saw the look on your face." She met his gaze and added, "Yeah, that one."
"Hey, you just caught me off-guard, that's all." Murdock suddenly pulled her close and held her tight. "Ace, they will get their pardons someday, I promise you that." He just had to say it out loud. It meant keeping hope and holding onto future dreams with flying machines.
"I know... or else you'll all die trying."
"There's Hannibal talking again - did he tell you that?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Wild Aces Charters, this is Parker speaking."
"Hey kid, it's me."
"Hannibal! How've you been? I haven't heard from you since I got back, it's been what, almost two weeks?"
"Yeah, it's been pretty quiet around here since... everything. A little too quiet if you ask me. How's she holding up?"
"Fine, she's perfect and life's back to normal and almost all caught up with everything, thanks to Murdock's help."
"Yeah, about that - he's not answering at his apartment. Is he there?"
"That's affirmative, he's actually up on a trial hop right now to test out some new modifications. He can't fly clients just yet, but we've got this brand-new intake system that we think just might bypass-"
"A.J., sorry to interrupt you, but I don't have much time here. Just have him call me A.S.A.P., okay?"
"Okay - hey, is there something wrong, Hannibal?"
"...you're not going to like what's coming your way."
"If it's duty that's calling, Colonel, I know what that's like. You're all heading out soon, right?"
"I guess it's better off coming from me - we have a briefing at nineteen-hundred sharp at the airport, then we're off to, well - best to stay broad on the details; southern hemisphere."
"You got it, thanks for the heads up. Any kind of a time frame, just for schedule's sake?"
"Three, five days tops is my guess, but you never know - as you well know."
"Believe me, I'm still not over Dickenson yet. Okay, I promise I'll have H.M. call you right back as soon as he's on the ground."
"Hold on, I hear the tone in your voice, kid. Before we hang up, let's talk about something important."
"Sure, Hannibal, but if it's that important, can you please stop calling me kid?"
"Fair enough, Lieutenant. I'm going to get straight to the point - we're treading in somewhat uncharted territory here and I'm a little concerned about how this might affect... certain things."
"...understood, Colonel. Now, I will assure you again that we mutually agreed to stay one-hundred percent loose with zero commitments and no plans other than to enjoy each others company with what little time we have. What's to be concerned about?"
"Plenty. Look, I won't go into details unless I need to, but I want to make absolutely sure you understand all the risk factors here and that we'll do whatever it takes to get these pardons. That means everything is on the line when we leave and one day we might not come back. So, I'm asking you - are you prepared and willing to accept that? Because if you're not..."
"Hey, what kind of question is that, 'Pongo'? I know what those pardons mean to you - remember you're talking to a pigeon here!"
"Don't get your feathers all ruffled up, Pigeon. It's just an answer I need to hear, and I'm waiting..."
Murdock looked down from atop the rotor blades he now stood on, shaking his head in wonderment. "How come you never said anything?"
"Because we'd already talked about it, remember? Besides, you came back just fine - except for that black eye." She suddenly winced. "Hey, you still never told me how you got that shiner."
"You never forget anything, do you?" He playfully accused, then shrugged at the memory as he turned back to the pre-flight engine inspection he was in the midst of. "Just a late duck - the angry mudsucker threw quite a fit when he came around a little earlier than expected at the airport."
"Fuel systems check." She giggled at the thought as she looked at the checklist. "He really hates to fly, doesn't he? Why do I have a feeling you might have something to do with that?"
"Ask him sometime," he winked, then gestured to the cockpit. "Okay, we're all clear up here - float systems check."
As they climbed in, switches were flipped and they each took a turn in sequence. She focused on the clipboard in her hand as he pulled on the helo's trigger with the other.
"All right, we're all set here." She nodded in approval. "Thanks for the help."
"What?" Murdock gaped in disbelief. "I'm not helping - you're helping since it's my turn to take her up next, right?"
"Oh, so this is how it's going to be?" She playfully glared. "You can take Mr. Dunham and his wife, tonight - deal? Hey, you can even dress up in a suit and a black bow tie, like those fancy chauffeurs."
"Hmm, I do look good in black." He marveled at the idea, then proudly straightened his pretend tie. "Okay, deal." He eagerly stuck his hand out to shake on it - which she obliged, then handed him a ring of keys she'd fished out of her jumpsuit pocket.
He looked at the keys with morbid curiosity, then questioningly back at her.
"Can you do me a favor? Since you've been gone, I haven't really had any chance to check on... you know, the other end of the runway. You wouldn't mind, would you?"
"Sure, no problem - uh, anything in particular I'm checking on?"
She smiled, then kissed his cheek. "The inside?"
Meanwhile back at Langley...
Downtime.
Around here downtime meant quite few things. It meant a well-stocked cigar humidor in his room, and a well-stocked bar and kitchen downstairs. And if they were lucky enough, it also meant well-stocked skirts wandering about the house.
Stockwell lived up to his name, at least in making sure that his hired man's simple needs were amply fulfilled. But as the smoke from his cigar drifted into the air, Hannibal wondered if the General really was capable of living up to his full promise of a pardon. It was still constantly dangling in front of them for almost a year now. It felt so close enough to brush with his fingertips, but just couldn't grab hold.
At least the restrictions had loosened over the course of time they'd been there, and the number of hounding Ables wandering about had dwindled down to almost none. Hell, it would be easy to break free from the place, and perhaps the lack of security was just bait. But he wasn't thinking about fleeing. No, now somewhat alone in this big house, his attention was on the cigar in his teeth, and the foxy skirt cradled in the crook of his elbow after they'd just...
"I'm glad you came back for the second half," she whispered in his ear, then leaned in for a final kiss. "But I've gotta run. See you next Friday?"
A smile crept onto his face and he nodded in agreement. "You bet."
She was dressed and was out the door a few minutes later. A regular door too, no sliding iron jail bars; or flaps of a fatigue green tent out in the bush. Grateful for the little things, he stretched, then drew in a deep calming breath that finished with a yawn. Aside from the lack of mucking around the L.A. waters as the Aquamaniac, Hannibal wondered if perhaps this was a taste of what the pardoned life was like after all, right up until he heard the distinct sound of an Able's footsteps pacing about the outside to lead his visitor out.
Ugh, close but no cigar.
Hannibal shook his head. No, if anyone had a taste of what the pardoned life was like, it was...
"Too long ago, too long apart; she couldn't wait another day for... the captain of her heart."
Murdock stared bug-eyed at the radio in disbelief, then snapped back at it, "Then she wasn't worth it in the first place... fool!" He turned off the ignition and the song ceased, much to his relief.
He stepped out of the car and looked up at the old Parker residence. It looked exactly the same as the last time he was here, aside from the snow accenting the roof and ground around it. The familiar sound of gravel slid under his feet, now wet from the melting snow and as he approached the front door, the same eerie feeling washed over him, same as earlier that year.
She had been nothing short of panic walking in this very house. He didn't really understand why, as it looked quite homely - until he wondered what it would be like to walk through the Westwood V.A. doors again. The thought of going back there now was...
He shuddered as he unlocked the door and it swung open. He took two steps inside, instinctively flipped the switch on the nearest wall and prepared to sneeze. Instead of the darkness he expected, his mouth dropped in disbelief as the room now glowed.
"Well, I'll be, interior illumination at its finest... and the electric company said 'let there be light!'"
The neglected look the room once held had vanished, along with the dust and sediments of time; swept away. He looked down, watching his ratty Chuck Taylors glide along newly waxed wooden floors, then his eyes circled the room as he slowly walked around, taking the time to examine every detail. "You really were busy when I was gone, weren't you?"
The fireplace was definitely the first place he wanted to visit - revisit, actually, as it was the center of his memories, both past and present. He stared at the clear photographs resting on the mantle and nodded in respect to the great Wild Ace, then another caught his eye - the picture of himself and her, standing with the helicopter just days after returning from the mission that had brought them together. It was the same picture he had tucked in his wallet under his pilot's license.
He felt his chest swell with pride, along with a brief sting of tears, which he quickly blamed it on the fresh paint fumes that still lingered.
It was a home - a real one. His home. Resisting the urge to venture upstairs for the moment, he reached for the phone instead. Surprised to find a dial tone, he quickly punched in the familiar number he knew by heart. He'd dialed it often enough...
"Grr..." He hung up on the busy signal, then dialed a different number this time, another he knew by heart.
"D.C. General."
"Yes, connect me to Mr. Jack Nicholson's room, please." He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'll hold..."
After dialing the long distance number with his gold ringed fingers, they drummed the table as he waited. One ring, two rings, three rings... four. He was just about to hang up, annoyed when he finally heard the click.
"Baracus residence."
"Mama!" B.A. successfully kept his voice from shouting in excitement into the receiver. "It's me."
"Scooter? Oh, thank the lord, it's so good to hear your voice. Are you okay?"
"Everything is fine, Mama." He relaxed at the sound of her voice. "We were out of the country for awhile but we just got back."
"I'm so glad to hear you're still safe. I was getting worried when I hadn't heard from you about coming for Thanksgiving."
"Sorry, Mama." He pursed his lips, hating the long distance nonsense. "You know how it is, but yeah, I'll be there. Hey, you should see the snow out here right now, it's real nice."
"I bet it is, baby. We're practically buried in it out here right now. Haven't seen it this bad since that one time when you were nine and you got stuck in it walking home from school, remember?"
"I remember." Hearing her soft giggle brought on the warmth in his cheeks, which were grinning. Then he realized how tired she sounded and his concern showed in the tone of his voice. "Are you okay, Mama?"
"Just tired, baby."
He glanced at the clock. "It's the middle of the day. What's wrong? Are you sick?"
"I just don't have the same energy as I used to. I think my age is finally catching up with me - can't even shovel the walkway outside without needing a break..."
"You shouldn't be shoveling, Mama! Don't you have help? You need me to come out there and shovel your sidewalk for you?"
"I know you have better things to do than to drive seven hundred miles to shovel snow for your mama."
"No, I don't." He clenched his teeth, then made a snap decision. "Not right now. Mama, I'm coming home tonight. I'll see you soon."
Poking his head out of the foul, murky water, the slimy green creature slowly emerged. He was searching... arms reaching out, while he trudged towards dry land. It was going to grab something - perhaps that woman foolishly sunning herself on his territory. Ah yes, the perfect lunch. He approached the tasty looking meal; stalking it's soon to be prey. Closer, he crept…
Closer.
Hovered over her, saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. He wanted her. He, the hideous green monster, desired that sweet sun basking blond. If he had a tongue he would've licked his lips just by the sight of her.
Her eyes popped open as he stared down at her, and he tried desperately to soften his rubber face; perhaps to tell her he wasn't there just to eat her. Hell, he had a heart too - and deep down it was more than just for pulsating thick green blood. He wanted to show her how much he cared. Hey, he could love too!
"Owooo?" The sound he emitted was a raspy one, then he grinned, exposing his sharp teeth. And now that his intentions were clear, he let his claws descend towards her.
Her mouth, poised in a perfect 'o' shape, snapped shut with a loud gulp, then she let out a curdling, ear piercing scream...
"Hannibal."
He jolted awake in his chair at the violent shaking.
"What?" He rubbed his eyes free of swamp monster imagery and looked up just in time to see B.A. walk around from behind him couch and pace before him. "What's wrong, B.A.?"
"I'm leaving. Now. Going to Chicago."
"Okay." It took a moment for him to clear the exhaustion from his head. "Well, I don't see Stockwell giving us any missions anytime soon, so long as you leave a number and we'll call if we need ya. So, would you care to provide an explanation first?"
"Something's not right with Mama, and I'm gonna find out what. She needs me, I'm taking the van and going to Chicago, Hannibal. End of discussion."
He stared at the big guy. Bad attitude aside - B.A. really did have an instinct when something wasn't right, especially with his mother. "Go, B.A. I'll call you if there's any trouble. Hell, call me if there's any trouble."
He watched as B.A. hurried from the room, sighed, then looked down at the script in his hands.
Aquamaniac VI: The Claw Abiding Citizen (Look what you're missing, Johnny. Get back out here!)
He'd gotten it in the mail this morning and had read it cover to cover twice already. It'd been postmarked from L.A. but had no return address, just a note scribbled above the cover page. He fanned the pages in his thumb and skimmed through one more time. His thoughts hadn't even wandered back to his chosen profession of acting until this script arrived and it was a bittersweet reminder of what he'd left behind in L.A.
Heaving a sigh, he reached for a cigar and lit it. Boy, he would've made this movie a great one too; with a little over-dramatic use of the tail, that poise of a clawed hand that only he, John Smith, the actor could give...
He opened the fireplace screen and tossed the script inside. He watched as the paper sparked then illuminated with a glow then turn to ash soon after. Adding atop it; a flick of the stub of his cigar in finality.
... but his acting career was dead as long as he was stuck here by the grip of the sharp claws of his own boss – one General Hunt Stockwell.
"Ah well, there's always Aquamaniac VII," he muttered.
"Hey, I'm back - where's the welcome home party?"
"Face!" Hannibal quickly stood up and made his way to the front door just in time to see one Templeton Peck pass through the threshold, with an accompanying Able behind him. He looked none too worse for wear, aside from the portable monitor he carried at his side.
"I see they bumped you out early. Welcome back, Face!" Hannibal reached out and shook his shoulder, quite enthused their third man had finally rejoined them. "How ya doing there - ready for some action yet?"
"Yeah sure, Hannibal." Face's sarcastic tone preceded a smirk, just before he held up the digital monitor slung over his shoulder. "Just let me get my new snakebite kit and we'll head back to South America right away."
B.A.'s thunderous footsteps echoed down the stairs and he met with Hannibal and Face at the front door.
"Welcome home, Faceman!"
"Thanks, B.A." Face looked up at his comrade, then saw the packed canvas bag slung over his shoulder. "Where are you headed off to in such a hurry?"
"Chicago." B.A. answered flatly. "Gonna go visit Mama for a few days." He peered closer at the monitor and curiously asked, "What's that for?"
"This?" Face held it up, then shrugged. "It's nothing - monitors my respiratory system. Something about side effects of the antivenin."
"It's called serum sickness," another voice called out and they all looked up to see Murdock standing in the doorway.
"Murdock!" Face grinned. "You made it just in time for the homecoming."
"I tried to call you a little bit ago but they said you'd already been discharged." He leaned over and poked at Face's monitor. "Boy, look at that fancy equipment - you gotta house arrest device somewhere on that thing too?"
Face rolled his eyes. "Ironically, everything but." He swatted away Murdock's curious hands. "Hey, hands off - I remember what you did with that defibrillator!"
"What's with the bags, big guy?" Murdock poked at the luggage hanging off B.A. "Heading out somewhere?"
"Yeah, away from your crazy jabber for awhile. Gonna go visit mama."
"Want me to fly ya?" He grinned, slinging an arm over his shoulder.
Old habit. Get the digs in the big guy while you still can.
"No! No flyin'," B.A. protested immediately. "I'll drive away from you as fast as I can so it'll feel like flyin'. Fair enough?"
"Deal. Well, before you take off for the Windy City, well, I was gonna tell you guys this at the post mission party, but since we're not gonna have one, I guess I'll have to tell you now."
"Tell us what, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.
"That I let my apartment lease expire." Murdock smiled.
"Why?" B.A. asked, then teased, "They evict you for being too sane?"
"No," Murdock playfully narrowed his eyes. "I decided not to renew since it wasn't close enough to my new job." His eyes met with each of them, lastly at Hannibal's - whose expression was beyond curious. "Which I officially start tonight as a full partner in the D.C. charter business. Guys, I'm movin' on up, to the east side!"