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 17

To Face, the last few yards of their climb were a nailbiting experience . . . that is, if he had been able to release his hold on pitons and rock crevices to bite his fingernails.

For every two pitons Hannibal hammered into place, he took a few seconds to remember to pull himself up higher. Each time he hesitated, Face asked, "You still okay there, Colonel? Decker's almost here. We have to hurry."

Finally they reached the faintly luminous plastic bag marker. Hannibal widened the gap between the fence and the rocky surface and edged underneath to safety. Rolling over onto his back, he closed his eyes tightly shut and grimaced.

Face carefully removed the straps of the rucksack containing the explosives from one shoulder, then the other. After sliding the bag under the fence, he wriggled under himself and lay next to his CO, heart pounding, his breath not yet back to normal.

They were directly behind a small hut, away from immediate view of the rest of the compound. The shadow of the small building kept them well hidden.

There was no time to lose. The plan had been to set a few C-4 charges along the fenceline, get a comfortable distance away and set them off one by one in staggered sequence with a remote control device.

Face peered over at Hannibal, hoping to see some spark of 'the jazz,' just enough to carry them through this mission. His leader touched the wound on his head and peered at the blood on his fingers, seeming to be dazed at what he saw. Face shook his head in frustration.

I'm going to have to proceed with the plan . . . alone.

The con man patted his leader's shoulder, reassuring him. "Stay here and rest, Colonel. Decker won't find you here." He sighed when the only response was a muttered, "Do what . . . we planned, Lieutenant." Hannibal closed his eyes.

I'll have to place the charges far enough away so he doesn't get hurt when they go off.

But that would require him leaving the shadows of the buildings.

Maybe everyone's sleeping?

At least, he hoped so as he crept from the secure place where Hannibal lay wounded.

oooooo

What a time t' hafta go t' the latrine.

Murdock shifted position on the cot, trying to will the urgency to die down. Finally, he let out a soft sigh and stole a look at the sleeping Keepers around him. None of them seemed to be light sleepers from the snores he heard.

Oh well. Here goes.

Carefully pushing back the sheet and thin blanket, the pilot stood and slowly stretched, watching for anyone to wake. Seeing no one moving, he stepped quietly to the door and slipped out into the darkness.

The compound was very dark. Clouds partially covered the moon. Murdock scowled up at the sky.

A perfect night for someone t' sneak in 'n' cause some trouble.

He noted the Keepers did not seem to be worried about guarding their mountaintop retreat. A twinge of guilt gnawed at him. These people for the most part were peaceful. They weren't doing anybody real harm.

We shouldn' be interferin' with them. Schreiker knew what he was gettin' into when he joined 'em. 'N' the guy don' even care what happens t' his kid.

Murdock made his way to the latrine. He saw no one. Pushing the thought of how far Hannibal's plan might have proceeded so far was impossible. They had to be either scaling the mountain right now or already in the shadows readying the explosives.

But what if they ain'? Maybe there's a chance . . .

As soon as he closed the door, he knew what he must do. He took care of his immediate need first while he considered how to voice his sudden objection to Hannibal's plan.

What can I tell 'em?

"Hann'bal, Faceman . . . can ya hear me? Somethin' feels wrong 'bout this. We gotta abort the mission, guys . . . guys? D'ya hear me? We gotta abort."

oooooo

B. A. heard the frantic tone to his teammate's plea and tensed.

Hannibal an' Faceman should be just 'bout ta the top. We can't abort now, fool.

Scowling, he hoped the crazy man wouldn't put them all in danger and jeopardize the mission.

oooooo

B. A. wasn't the only one to note the fervency with which Murdock begged for them to stand down. Hannibal groaned softly and raised his head to search out his Lieutenant but the con man was already setting the second or third of five charges. The effort was too much, forcing him to collapse back onto the ground.

Too late now . . . too late . . . unless . . .

He rolled over on his stomach and inched his way across the rocky surface in the direction Face had taken to do his job.

oooooo

Face heard the plea over his earpieces and looked back toward Hannibal. He hesitated over his work when he saw the Colonel crawling painfully toward him. He wasn't sure where Murdock had hidden to make the desperate call to abort.

What's he seen that we don't know?

His part of the plan was clear . . . place the charges and set them off one by one. And Murdock had sounded like he had been influenced by Barger's recordings the last time they heard him over the receiver. Wasn't that the reason Hannibal decided to proceed so quickly with the plan?

He was just about finished. In his hand he held the detonator with its five buttons. His finger paused over the first one as the Colonel hissed, "Lieutenant!"

oooooo

Murdock stopped and listened for any movement outside. The small scuffling noise put him on high alert. His heart caught in his throat and he strained to hear more clearly.

Was that somethin' movin' 'round 'r am I jus' imaginin' somethin' that ain' really there?

He couldn't risk leaving the latrine and running into one of the Keepers. It might be Brother Amos and he knew that would be a very unpleasant encounter without Brother Kyle or Luke to step in.

But what d' I have t' be 'fraid of? That big ape can' do anythin' t' me without gettin' himself in a bunch o' trouble.

As if to paralyze him, the thought flashed into his mind about how Amos might find a way to dispose of his body after beating him to a pulp. None of them except the kid Aaron would think about places along the fence that someone could push a body through and over the edge of the cliff.

Murdock shivered and drew his robe closer around him. If he had to get back to the barracks under cover of darkness, he was glad the garment was black.

Just as he curled his hand around the door handle, the entire back wall of the latrine exploded, propelling him forward along with the door and most of the front of the building.