Keeper of the Truth

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

Chapter 11

Murdock forced his memories, his demons, back where they came from: the dark recesses of his mind.

Maybe Rev'rend Barger ain' so bad. Maybe he's got somethin' that'll erase all o' th' flashbacks forever. If he's got th' secret t' helpin' me, ain't that worth everythin' in th' world?

Billy whispered something to him, a question that included the words 'team' and 'mission.' His tone sounded urgent.

Sorry, brother. I can' talk right now. I gotta play 'long, pretend I'm one o' them.

He refocused his attention on the recorded message, ignoring Billy.

During your Season of Preparation, you learned to empty your mind. Now you must empty your life of all those hindrances which would remind you of the past you want to forget. Jesus owned nothing; each Keeper owns nothing. We have all pooled what we once owned together for the good of the community. God requires total devotion. The Keeper community helps you to devote yourself wholeheartedly to Him.

Murdock thought of the land his grandparents owned. Would it be so bad to be totally free of all of the past? Maybe he could even encourage Dani to join him here.

Someone touched him on the shoulder. It took him a minute to divert his attention from the almost hypnotic soothing voice on the recorder.

The someone who touched him gently shook his shoulder. He was sorely tempted to ignore the insistent prod of his visitor.

There was no way of knowing who it was . . . or sending the person away . . . until he opened his eyes. With reluctance, he did.

A pair of anxious brown eyes scanned his face. He had to wonder why his visitor was so worried.

It's that kid . . . what's his name 'gain? . . . Aaron?

But neither of them were allowed to speak to each other.

So why is he . . .

The kid held up a bottle of water which Murdock eagerly took from him. He hoped he could convey with his eyes the gratitude he felt. He carefully sat up on the cot, allowing the first wave of dizziness to pass before doing anything more. He allowed the tape recording to drone on as he let his head settle.

As he unscrewed the cap and took some of the liquid into his mouth, he noticed how cold it was. God, was he grateful for that refreshing water after his confinement.

They gotta have a fridge 'round here somewhere . . . which means they got some kind o' generator 'r power source.

Aaron nodded toward a tray he held in his lap. Murdock hadn't realized the kid had drawn up a folding chair so he could sit beside the cot to which the pilot had been assigned.

Food. Even though Aaron had sneaked him some water and bread earlier, Murdock's stomach grumbled at the sight of it. It wasn't anything more than a mound of mashed potatoes with gravy, a small dish of applesauce and another slice of white home-baked bread slathered with butter but he didn't care.

As Murdock ate, savoring the different tastes and textures of the food, he sensed Aaron scrutinizing him.

What is it with that kid? He don' think I'm gonna try 'n' get us outta here right 'way, does he? They're watchin' me too close, waitin' for me t' slip up 'n' show 'em I ain' really brainwashed int' the program.

There wasn't any way Murdock could see to reassure the kid either when he had to maintain silence. Unless he made a trip out to the latrine as soon as Aaron left. Maybe then. Maybe the kid would wait for him and then they could talk.

And Barger's voice was calming. For once in his life since the craziness that was Nam, Murdock didn't fear the images or voices in his head that tormented him on an almost daily basis. They were being replaced by something else and he wasn't sure he wanted it to end.

oooooo

B. A. had taken the first two hours listening to the receiver, then Face, and now it was Hannibal's turn.

There was nothing to hear. As there was nothing to hear in the previous four hours. Just the mesmerizing voice and seductively promising words of the voice on the tape recording Murdock was listening to.

"Either Murdock's very dehydrated and can't make an excuse to go to the latrine or . . . " The alternative was that the easy-going pilot had been brainwashed. "But he's stronger than that. He didn't break in the POW camps . . . he won't now," Hannibal muttered. "He won't."

The grim-faced Colonel scrubbed his face with both hands in weary frustration before resting his elbows on the table again. He strained even more to hear anything that came over the transmitter hidden in the frames of Murdock's glasses.

Come on, Captain! We need some information before we can make our move!

"We can't wait much longer for him to make contact, Hannibal." Face spoke quietly from behind him. The older man startled, then composed himself. He wasn't sure if he was angrier at himself for not hearing the Lieutenant enter the room or at Face for stating what he himself wasn't willing to admit.

"We might have to scale that mountain and break into the compound without any intel to help us," the younger man added.

"He's right, Colonel. The fool might be in trouble. We gotta do somethin'." That was B. A. He sounded genuinely concerned.

Hannibal frowned at the receiver and made a decision.

oooooo

Aaron watched the man called Merle eat, desperately wishing there was some way to communicate. He knew saying anything even in a whisper would get both of them in trouble.

He sensed something inside the older man had changed. The boy frowned as he tried to figure out what it was and almost groaned out loud when he thought he understood.

He gave up . . . just like the others here in this compound.

Aaron felt panic rise up inside himself with that realization.

What do I do now? I can't get out of here all by myself.

At that point, if he knew he could do it without being punished, he would have snatched the headphones away and smashed them and the tape recorder and the cassette tape with those seductive promises into a million pieces.

He let his gaze wander around the room, hoping no one noticed the anguish he felt. One of the brothers was mending a robe and casting secretive looks at the new recruit as he ate. Aaron was pretty sure the man wasn't just curious about Merle.

Barger's 'eyes' are everywhere. I've gotta be careful.

The brother caught Aaron's stare and smiled, then returned to his sewing. It did nothing to relieve the boy's anxiety.

Merle finished his meal with a few more swallows of water and handed the tray and water bottle back. He nodded his thanks and started to lie down again on the bed. The boy watched as the older man adjusted the headphones over his ears and closed his eyes.

No! You've gotta stop listening to that! I hafta talk to you.

He knew Merle would have to go to the latrine sometime soon. That would be his chance to talk to him even if it was for only a very short time. But if he hung around the latrine area waiting, someone would become suspicious.

Aaron took a quick look around and noted no one seemed to be watching them. Taking a steadying breath, he tapped the man on the shoulder to get his attention.

Merle frowned, then slowly opened his eyes. He seemed genuinely puzzled that the kid was still there.

As carefully as possible to avoid notice from the others, Aaron let his eyes wander to the door, then back to the man on the bed. He raised his eyebrows and hoped his message was clear.

If he stayed any longer the others would suspect something. As he rose and walked to the door, he prayed Merle understood. If he didn't . . . well, maybe he would have to figure a way to get away from the compound and get in touch with the man's friends.