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 16
"Colonel!" Face hissed as he reached for a promising crack in the rock face to the right of his CO. No response for a few seconds, then a soft groan.
"Hannibal?" The conman pulled himself up beside the Colonel and waited for an answer, straining to see if there were any discernable wounds on the other man's head. He became painfully aware again how high they had managed to climb.
If I try to touch him right now, he might pull away and then we'll both be in trouble.
"I'm . . . wha' th' hell hit me?" The team leader turned his face to look at his Lieutenant.
He's slurring his words. That can't be a good sign.
A dark rivulet flowed from Hannibal's left temple to his chin.
"Colonel. I need you to focus on me." Face peered into the other man's eyes in a futile attempt to see if either pupil was dilated. It was too dark. Sighing, he gave up.
Does he even know where he is right now?
He figured he would start with an easy question. "Listen to me, Hannibal. Do you know what day it is?"
The Colonel frowned, then winced in pain. "Four."
Face gulped. "Four what?"
"Four fingers . . . you're holdin' up four . . . fingers . . . "
Oh, great! I couldn't hold up four fingers if I tried without letting go of this damn mountain! And that wasn't the question!
"B. A.? Come in, B. A. Are you hearing all this?"
Even if he is, what's he going to do? Drive over here and catch the Colonel when he falls?
"We abortin' the mission, Faceman?" The black man's gruff voice hinted of his worry over his leader's state of being.
"No. Not yet." Face saw Hannibal sag a little. "Look, Colonel. The piton is just above you. You grab it and hold on."
The other man nodded, just a small up and down of his head, and groaned.
The con man watched as the Colonel stretched out his hand, feeling the rock surface until he found the metal spike.
"Good. Now I need you to work with me. I'll drive in the next one, then you have to grab it."
"You're blurry. I gotta close my eyes . . . gettin' dizzy . . . "
"No! Don't . . . " Face resisted the urge to let go of his handhold and slap Hannibal to keep him awake.
How am I going to get him up the last few yards without . . .
For a couple of seconds he watched his leader struggle to keep his eyes open.
Then he had an idea.
"Colonel, listen to me. We've got to get to the top of this mountain. Decker's coming and out in the open we're sitting ducks. Do you hear me? We have to get to the top and reconnoiter with B. A. and Murdock before they get here." He sought the other man's expression for a suggestion that he understood and stifled the sigh when he saw Hannibal rally to full consciousness.
"How far away is Decker?" the Colonel rasped.
"No time to talk. They're too close for that. Now I'm going to hammer in the next piton, then I want you to reach for it. Understood?" Face held his breath, waiting for an answer.
"I've got the hammer. I'll get us up there, Lieutenant." Face watched as his leader gritted his teeth against the pain in his head and prodded the rock surface above them with the hammer for the next best place to drive in the climbing spike.
The con man breathed deeply and waited, looking for any sign he would have to take over.
"Faceman, do you read me?" He heard B. A. over the ear pieces. "We goin' ahead or abortin' the mission?"
Hannibal himself answered. "It's still a go, Sergeant. Just be ready to crash that gate when I give the signal. Out."
Face resisted the urge to say anything more to B. A. It was enough that the Colonel had taken over again. He couldn't help but wonder about Murdock and how he was faring against the brainwashing techniques of Reverend Barger and his Keepers.
Hang in there, buddy. We're coming.
oooooo
Amos cast a dark look at the barracks where Merle was sleeping. Something wasn't right about the man. But they had run the background check and inquiries. The man at the Hardin County land office confirmed Merle's property holdings in Texas. Getting hold of that land would be a gold mine . . . or oil field . . . worth of money for him and his friends.
The man's story checked out.
Amos still couldn't get rid of the feeling that Karen's stepson and Merle had been planning something.
Shaking his head, he opened the door to the quarters he shared with his friends. Soft snores greeted him. They were already asleep. As he readied himself for bed, he thought again about Karen. Once the two of them got approval to be helpmates, the boy would have to obey. Or else.
oooooo
Murdock rolled over, restless under the thin blanket covering him. Brother Kyle and the others in the barracks were sleeping by the time he came to bed. He knew he had to stay awake and listen for the first explosion at the fence. Then he needed to fake surprise like any others who woke to the assault on their compound.
He thought he knew now where the documents and deeds were that Schreiker wanted them to obtain. Once the mayhem started, he had to edge his way toward the building and find those papers.
Gotta be careful doin' it. That Amos guy's prob'ly gonna be the first one t' go 'n' secure that area.
An encounter with Brother Amos was the last thing Murdock wanted. He would be exposed for who he was instantly and Brothers Kyle and Luke would . . . what? The thought of disappointing them made him feel a little guilty.
Well, I'm pretty sure I ain' gonna be welcome here anymore. This's too good of a dream t' be true . . . freedom from my nightmares 'n' flashbacks. 'N' most o' the Keepers really do b'lieve in what Reverend Barger's tryin' t' do here. Jus' a few bad apples like Amos 'n' his buddies spoil the whole thing.
Maybe he could put on his Klingon cloaking device. Yeah, that would hide him from being seen . . . then he wondered if the papers would be invisible under the cloaking device as well . . .
In the next second, he scolded himself.
Now ain' the time t' preten' stuff like that. This's serious.
He had a second concern now and that was protecting Aaron. The kid took risks. That could get them both in a lot of trouble if the whole mission went south.
He shifted around again under the blanket to ease a tension cramp in the shoulder where he had taken the bullet for Hannibal . . . how many years ago?
It was as if the pain was there to remind him of his team, his unit, and his loyalty to them. Giving in to the promise of freedom would take him away from the guys, perhaps forever.
No. I gotta focus . . . I gotta think o' what I gotta do . . . don' think o' the future . . . don' think . . .
Grimacing, he massaged his scarred aching shoulder and waited for the first explosion.