Chapter 9 - Leaning on the Allies of Aces and Allens
"L.A. Times, Allen speaking... is anyone there?"
He drew in a deep, nervous breath and excitedly answered, "Hey there, Chiquita! Wow, working at the big 'Times', huh? I see you've officially made the jump to the major leagues - way to go, slugger!"
Silence. He could almost picture the expression on her face as he heard the distinct sound of her sharp breath inhaling, then...
"I - I don't believe it... is it really you?"
"Yep, it's Ol' Howlin' Mad back again to add a little excitement into your day - and before you ask... yes, the guys are fine."
"Where in the heck have you been? I've been trying to track you down for over a year now. I thought..."
"Take it easy now, we're out here on the east coast, D.C area. Look, that's not important right now. What is important is where I'm gonna be this Friday, which is why I'm calling. I'm gonna need a favor, Amy. A pretty big one."
"Of course, anything for you guys. Well, except my car, that's staying right here. Murdock, I just knew it wasn't true and you guys found a way out somehow. You always did."
He smiled warmly knowing she still cared long after she had to. "We're still trying to find a way out."
"You all made a clean break, that's for sure. I've been following cold leads ever since I stopped by the V.A. to try and find out what happened. They said you'd been discharged, but it was like you vanished into thin air."
He stopped mid-step in front of the fireplace. Hearing about the V.A. again was... surreal. Uncomfortable. He swallowed hard as he glanced at the pictures on the mantle, desperate for a distraction. "I, uh - I bet you never thought you'd see the day when the 'mastermind of madness' would leave Bozo Barracks behind for good, huh?
"It was so weird seeing your empty room. I just tried to convince myself you were with them and that you were all together somewhere."
"You got that part right. As for the V.A., well..." He looked at the picture of himself, his co-pilot and the helo and the discomfort quickly faded with his smile. "I've found better ways to pass the time out here."
"Oh, yeah? So, what's her name?"
He stared at the phone, wondering how she'd guessed. "A.J.," he answered and her laughter immediately followed.
"More initials, wow - sounds like a match made in abbreviated heaven. So, what's going on that's so important - let me guess, you getting married? Don't forget, she's supposed to wear the dress, not you!"
"Hey, you know darn well I looked absolutely stunning in that dress." They shared a moment of laughter, both remembering that time so long ago.
"So if you aren't getting married, what is this big news - anything hot off the press?"
"Yeah, I'm going after their pardons, Amy."
"You're kidding. Oh, my - you're not kidding... and you remembered."
"Of course I did! Did you think I'd forget my promise that you'd get full exclusivity when the guys were finally cleared? Listen, speaking of - the guys don't know anything about this yet, and I don't want them to know, so right now let's keep this information strictly between us, okay?"
"You got it, Murdock."
"Thanks. You know this could turn out to be the biggest story in over a decade; I'm talking about a shock bigger than last year's Iran-Contra Scandal."
"Now you're speaking my language! Okay, I'm all in. What do you need from me?"
"Atta-girl! I need you to help me rally the troops, put the troops in a rally, and pull out all the stops you can. If we're going to get anyone's attention, we're gonna need all the help we can get. We're going to need everything you've got - case files, old phone numbers, every client we had and start calling around to-"
"Wait - slow down, Murdock. Let me write this all down so I don't miss anything. Damn, let me find a pen that works." He heard the sound of rustling, then, "You know, Tawnia's still in town and we still keep in touch, mostly just to find out if either one of us has heard anything about you guys, or from you. She's Channel Five's news anchor at KABC."
"You don't say? Tawnia made it in front of the camera after all." He stopped his mind from racing long enough to manage a smile. "See? I always knew you gals had potential!"
"Yeah? Well hanging around with you guys long enough makes a normal nine-to-five life seem like a 'piece of cake'. Tell me, how are the guys? Hannibal, B.A.," he heard the flutters in her voice, "...and Face?"
"They're no worse for wear. As for Face," he grinned. Those two were always close - he often wondered just how close. "You know, you can move a city boy out to the country, but you sure can't take the city out of 'em." As he heard her excited laughter again, he relaxed in a warm smile. "Boy, hearing your voice again Amy, it sure feels like good old times. You know, I swear I can smell shaving cream right now... does that sound crazy to you?"
"Probably just as crazy as whatever you're up to. Okay, I'm ready to write everything down here. Now... what's the plan?"
L.A. Times, Top Floor
Los Angeles, California
The pen dropped from Amy's shaking hand as she set the phone onto its cradle. Seconds later she was yelling out the door.
"Miles, I've got a bite on something big! I need a flight out to D.C. ASAP!"
"You got it, Allen!"
She shut the door - slammed it actually, then leaned against it in exasperation as her heart raced, numb from head to toe.
Around here, the rumors occasionally slipped that they were still alive somewhere, but it remained hearsay - no one was ever able to confirm a single one. As far as anyone else was concerned, the A-Team really was dead.
Except her. She hadn't been convinced, and she hadn't let it go; hadn't let them go - not completely. She had to admit - there was one time she'd almost resigned to the so-called fact - the same day she peered into the familiar room in building sixteen at the Westwood V.A., only to find a cold, bareness. It was the same day she'd parked a few blocks away from work and passed by an old abandoned Chinese Laundromat with a for sale sign taped to the pane glass.
She peered down from her corner office window to the busy streets of downtown L.A. Wow, it had been a long time since she'd felt this - the rush of exciting adrenaline. It was slow at first, until the abrupt noise of tires squealing outside jolted her senses even further.
She only had Hannibal to blame for this, as she'd caught it from him. Her soul had been jazz-infected so long ago and for the first time in ages, it began to emerge. It started with a familiar sparkle if excitement in her eyes, which eyed her bottom desk drawer, which she quickly unlocked and opened, then pulled out a black book and opened it to the very first page.
Tawnia Lefcourt: 555-4027
It was the first of many to dial, which she quickly did...
"...hello?"
"Tawnia? Hey, it's Amy... yeah, Amy. Yeah, that Amy!" She grinned as she leaned back in her chair, the jazz now full force in her eyes. "You'll never believe who I just got off the phone with...!"
A shiver ran down Mutrdock's spine as he hung up the phone. He hadn't heard the sound of her voice in quite a long time... years. It brought on a flood of memories of past adventures, persona playing, jumping from airplanes, scamming unsuspecting M.P.s; along with beating up scum they were protecting their clients from.
Hell, he couldn't even imagine her now. Good ol' 'Triple A' Allen - now a well seasoned thirty-year old, working for a big paper like the Times. The only thing he could imagine about her right now was her trying to imagine him. Free from the confines of the V.A.; just a full-time tag-along pilot, living in a house...
"Brr, what the...?!"
A freezing cold house, he quickly realized, as the shivers weren't just from the ghost of L.A.'s past - he could now see his breath. Having been so enthralled on the phone, he'd forgotten how fast the winter air could drop out here once the sun set, and flight jackets and flannel alone couldn't cut it. He tossed a bundle of wood in the fireplace, struck the match with shaking hands and carefully lit it. After it ignited, the heat began to creep into the living room, chasing out the frigid winter air. He savored the warmth as it spread over him.
His thoughts drifted as he stared at the fire, while his fingers tugged at various things on his face in thought - the bridge of his nose, his chin, lower lip. The first part of the plan had succeeded - getting back in contact with their former member - hopefully members. The second part of this plan was going to be a little bit trickier...
"How to get myself in the White House too," he wondered aloud, then suddenly felt himself drawn to the flames as if he were a moth flying about. Mesmerized, he leaned in closer enough to feel the heat tingle in warning on his weary cheeks.
There just has to be a way...
Wild Aces Hangar
7 PM
"I need an everlasting love, I need a friend and a lover divine. An everlasting, precious love - wait for it, wait for it, give it some time...
...and you're listening to 'The Bay' one oh-oh point one. That was a sneak peak at a brand new single by Howard Jones - expect that one to be a hit, folks! And now the latest weather update for all you listeners out there - temperatures are expected to dip into the single digits tonight and last well into tomorrow until the mid-afternoon. Hope you've got someone warm to snuggle up with, guys and gals, because it's going to get mighty frosty out there!"
"Yeah, no kidding!" she told the radio as she rubbed her icicle cold hands along the car's blasting heater vent. She wearily eyed the road back to the house, deciding whether to run or drive back.
Junior, let me introduce to you the P.T. Path statute: exception number one - if it's cold enough your spit freezes, you can skip the run.
She smiled at her dad's voice - it was definitely cold enough. After one last look at the locked hangar and the "Closed For Weather" sign, she shifted the car into gear and raced back to the house, glad she'd stopped by on the way home this afternoon to double-check things here first. Ten minutes ago she'd been perched atop the helo, securing a black plastic tarp over the rotor heads in the freezing cold hangar.
"When the mercury dips below thirty-two, it's best to cover her rotor. The insulation helps keep the accretion of ice outta the air intakes and..."
To her surprise, it wasn't her dad's voice this time - it was Murdock's; and now she wondered if he'd grown more apt at protecting the helo than even her now. Grinning at the very thought, she hurried inside. On entering, stopped just under the living room's archway and found a sight she didn't expect - him standing there motionless in front of the fireplace, both hands resting on the mantle and staring intently at the orange flames in a meditative-like state.
"Hey," she called out softly, as not to startle him.
"Hi there," he answered in a raspy voice, then his smile appeared as warm as the fire. "I'm just trying to thaw out - it got colder than a polar bear's toenails in here earlier."
"These snaps can blow through fast out here." She headed for the fireplace and met his awaiting arms, then touched his cheek and felt a feverish heat. "Oh no, you're not getting sick too, are you?"
"I'm fine, just got a little too close to the fire there." He closed his eyes at the touch of her cool hand. "Everything go alright today with your appointment?"
"Oh yeah, it was great! Two hops around D.C. and one through Baltimore. We dipped in and out just before the front clouds rolled in. You should've seen the thunderheads that started forming when-"
"Ace," he interrupted, staring intently. "The other appointment?"
"Oh, that." The excitement in her voice faded. "Just a quick in and out, they said the flu's definitely going around, took some blood just to make sure, and they'll call in the next day or so." She quickly changed the subject, telling him, "Oh, I stopped by the hangar and covered the bird on the way back."
He winced. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot about that; been on the phone most of the day. Aw, you should've let me take care of that, Ace, especially if you're still sick."
"It's no big deal., feeling better already, promise. In fact..." she held up a paper bag that had gone unnoticed until now. "Picked up your favorite and I'm starving, how about you?"
By the way his eyes excitedly widened, she knew no answer was needed. H.M. Murdock's stomach was not something to ever take lightly.
A few bites later, she guiltily admitted, "I just realized it's below freezing and I brought home cold sandwiches for dinner. We should be having hot meals... that's normal, right?"
Now amused, but his mouth too full to answer, he could only wave his hand to tell her it wasn't a big deal. War, the V.A., poverty and a life that was once potentially on the run certainly had a way of putting things in perspective now.
After swallowing, he could finally answer, "It's perfect, just like an ice cream cone after a day of snow sledding." He took a blissful bite, then thoughtfully added, "You know, I was just remembering the kinda stuff they served at the V.A. Let me tell you something - it wasn't your gourmet variety submarine like this." He held up the foot-long as if it were one of Stockwell's precious relics. "This right here is your local delicatessen's finest five-food groups in a boat - and not something to apologize for - got it?"
"Okay." She agreed with a smile. "But I really do promise to learn the whole home-cooking thing. I kinda needed to work on the home first."
Murdock lit up at the thought. Just maybe there was something to that old axiom, 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach' after all, because he stared intently at her through each bite of his sandwich, noticing she looked particularly radiant in the firelight as she... picked up the the folder he'd left on the coffee table.
"Operation: Deep Throat...?" Her eyes widened as she read his handwriting on the cover, then opened it. "So what is this plan of yours you've been putting together - Watergate: Part Deux?"
"Parker." He dropped his jaw mimicking Nixon. "It's called, 'You're in Howlin' Mad's alternate universe of Meet the Prez'!"
She snickered, then curiously thumbed through the yellowed newspaper clippings, binds of paper stuffed in the manila folder - a stack of what seemed like endless articles and information. Heck, the amount of trees it took to create all the paper in this folder was probably equivalent to the Potomac State Forest.
"This is everything you have on the team's missions since you've been working for Stockwell?"
"Yep, every last bit of it. I saved everything - call it an obsessive-compulsive hobby of sorts."
Knowing that particular task wasn't going to be easy, she offered, "Well, I'd sure like to help with whatever I can."
"No, you put the idea in my head for this and that's help enough. It's probably best you don't get too mixed up in this part. You just get your uniform pressed and get that salute up to par."
"Hey!" She crossed her arms and fired a playful look of disbelief at him. "Just what exactly is wrong with my salute?"
He snickered in response, then tugged the snap of his outer jacket pocket and handed her the envelope inside it. "Here, almost forgot - here are the first set of prints from the new camera, picked 'em up on my way back from the bank. Trade you for that," he pointed to the folder.
"Enjoying your paycheck?" she lightheartedly teased as she handed him the file in exchange for the envelope. She opened it and the first picture on top of the stack was a close-up picture of a one-fingered salute by Face grinning in the Yak's cockpit. She burst into laughter, realizing just how contagious his grin really was.
"Here." She passed him the photo, still giggling. "You let Face borrow the camera, I see."
Murdock chuckled at his friend and his one fingered salute, then set it aside - to frame later, of course.
"Oh, wow - look at that skyline in this." She meticulously studied the colorful shot of the aerial sunset, and the next picture of the scenic horizon lines. "These are beautiful shots. Did you take these?"
"No, not me, my hands were full with the Yak. Face took those actually, just before the whole snake-thing."
"You know, I know a few photographers who've been looking for shots exactly like these. Hey, you don't think Face will mind if I share these with them, do you?"
"Mm, nah," he muttered, his attention now on the file he was reading.
"You have to catch the light at just the right moment and at the right angle. It really does feel like another world up there, right between Heaven and Earth. You're finally... free. Free from everything."
He looked up from the file to see her lost in the picture, a dreamy look on her face. "That is exactly what I feel like whenever I'm near you, Ace."
"Really? You know, you're near me right now, Tiger." She playfully bit her lip.
"I am, aren't I." He quickly set aside the file and leaned her back against the couch, staring with his own fire in his eyes. "And you really are feeling better, aren't you?"
The planning could wait... for just a little while anyway.
Her eyes snapped open at the bite of cold air on the back of her neck and a loud snore in her ear. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, until a quick glance at the clock confirmed it was well after midnight. She looked next to her and smiled at the sight - he was dozed off in exhaustion, open file still in hand and snoring louder than usual.
After adding a few more logs to the remaining embers in the fireplace, she walked back to the couch. "Come on, Tiger," she coaxed, rubbing the back of his neck. He snorted mid-snore. "Let's head upstairs for a few hours of real sleep and we can start fresh in the morning."
He forced his eyes open, and muttered, "No, not yet. Not until we work out this big kink in the plan... so you better go put on a fresh pot of go-juice."
She yawned, then headed for the kitchen but not before calling out first, "You mean how are we supposed to get the information you have to the president during the ceremony without the secret service all over your case?"
"Yeah, that's going to be a bit of a problem... getting inside undetected."
"Why is it a problem? I was there with my dad when he got his first medal."
"That's because you're family but I'm not. There's a big possibility that I won't be able to get in and you might have to do this on your own."
"Me?" Her eyes widened in panic at the thought. "No way, Tiger. I could barely convince Nurse Teige that we were family, remember?"
"Hey, I know you can do this. Remember when we convinced B.A. to help fix your chopper? You did a great job back then."
"B.A. wasn't packing an eight-millimetre though, was he? Those secret service guys don't screw around. I can just see it now - I get in there, make one false move as I reach for the folder the wrong way, and-"
"A.J.!" His exasperated voice boomed through the house, just as she re-entered the room with two steaming cups of coffee in hand. "You don't need to think like that!"
"Sorry, Tiger. Here..." She offered him the drink, then sat down next to him and wasted no time trying to desperately wake up with the help of the liquid caffeine. "I'm going to be honest - I'd feel a whole lot better about all this if you were there with me."
He sipped from his mug that adorned the words, 'Captain Obvious', swallowed hard then heaved a deep sigh. "Okay, Ace... if you really want me to be there too, there's only one way I can think of how to pull that off."
"Would you please elaborate because I can't think of anything. How...?"
He bit his bottom lip in anticipation, then began fishing around his inner jacket pocket. "Before you say it - yes, I am being one-hundred percent crazy right now, only because we both know pretending to be family isn't going to cut it this time."
As she watched him hold out the small black box to her, it took every ounce of energy to not spit her coffee out. "Please tell me that's just another one of B.A.'s transmitters."
"Not this time." His eyes warmed, remembering the exact same conversation they'd had earlier that year. "If we're gonna to do this together, we gotta fly straight."
"But I... I thought we agreed to keep things loose." She stared at the box, then met his gaze. "Because it's the only way things would ever work between us."
"Listen, I promised the guys a long time ago that I would always be their wing-man anytime they needed me, but I'm ready to do it on their terms - not Stockwell's. If this plan works, they're free - which means I'm free too."
"What about the guys? Did you tell them about your plan yet?"
He shook his head. "No, and I'm not going to. I don't want to take any chances on things slipping out. But... uh, Face does know about this, he found it in my camera bag the day we flew back." He held the box out again. "Please... take it."
As she obliged, he felt his heart almost beat out of his chest as she opened it. "It's beautiful," she whispered, then couldn't help but tease, "But aren't you supposed to get down on one knee first?"
He smiled knowingly, remembering the last time she'd said those exact words to him. With a quick move, he slid off the couch onto his knee, plucked the ring from the box and offered it to her, along with his gentle smile.
"Whaddaya say, Acelynn - wanna be my co-pilot for life?"
As she watched him slide the ring onto her finger, she realized it was a tad loose, just like them. Their eyes met - his full of hope, hers full of tears.
"Roger that... Tiger."