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 19
Murdock heard the gunshot behind him and muffled screams from around the compound. He wanted to turn and see what had happened to Hannibal but the weapon pointed at him and the cold stare the Keeper was giving him was almost paralyzing.
"You're next," Brother Amos growled. The Keeper's face hardened as he raised the assault rifle to his shoulder.
This's it. I'm gonna die.
A vision of his bride-to-be Donna flashed into his mind and he closed his eyes involuntarily.
But maybe it's better if I don' see it comin'. Maybe if Donna's the las' thing I see, it won' hurt too bad.
He repeated what he had already said.
"I tol' ya. My name's Merle Somers 'n' I'm a seeker of th' truth. Please . . . please . . . I beg ya . . . don' shoot!"
Collapsing to his knees, keeping his hands up in surrender, he waited.
He heard a metallic clatter on the gravel very near him. Within seconds he found it difficult to breathe.
Opening his eyes, he saw a thick cloud of red-colored smoke surrounding him. He dropped to his belly on the ground, seeking out the layer of fresh air under the cloud emitted by the smoke grenade.
Smart thinkin' on someone's part, poppin' that smoke like they did.
He wondered if it was Face. His mind flashed to a LZ in Vietnam. Wrong time to do it but he couldn't prevent his memory from rushing in and putting him in full panic mode.
He was at the controls of his chopper, searching clearings for the A-team he was supposed to extract. One of the gunships accompanying his bird had already taken a hit and had to fly crippled back to base.
He remembered saying one of those short prayers you say when you don't have anything else and you figure the chances of their return was little to not at all. He gulped when he thought how he finally spotted the red smoke near the edge of a landing zone that looked almost the size of a postage stamp.
He remembered Face limping toward his chopper, B. A. on one side, Ray Brenner on the other, Hannibal laying down fire at the gooks at the tree-lined edge of the clearing.
But all my guys made it out 'live. All o' them . . . I didn' leave anyone b'hind . . .
Well, technically he didn't. One of the team's new recruits had walked right into a nest of NVA soldiers while on point. They had shot him . . . a spraying of AK-47 bullets that tore his entire midsection apart.
Hannibal told Murdock the guy died instantly but there had been that haunted look the remaining four team members had passed among themselves that told the pilot it wasn't as simple as that. He was sure the boy had died defending the others.
Despite the smoke, he snorted softly.
Jus' shows nothin' 'bout that mess over there was ever simple.
A noise brought him back to his present situation. When the smoke cleared . . . as it would soon do . . . Amos was going to kill him. No doubt in his mind about that.
But the Keeper holding the weapon yelled something in surprise. There was scuffling where Brother Amos had stood and the sound of the AK-47 going off, again accompanied by terrified screams and shouts both close and distant.
"Drop it, sucka, or I'll shove it down yer throat an' pull the trigger!"
Murdock breathed a sigh of relief. How the big Sergeant got from the driver's seat of the truck to Amos so quickly, he didn't know.
Maybe time had stood still? Maybe he had . . . no, he didn't want to think it . . . but maybe he had really been transported back in time . . .
Another familiar voice behind him chimed in, "I'd stay down, friend, if you know what's good for you."
The pilot clambered to his feet, swaying slightly with a sudden pounding headache, and turned around.
Brother Gregory lay on the ground, blinking up at Face. The Lieutenant handed the Keeper's confiscated pistol over to Murdock while training his own weapon on Gregory.
"Where's Hann'bal?" Murdock could barely get the words out. Frantically he looked around until he caught sight of Hannibal's motionless body.
"No," he rasped. "No . . . no . . . no . . . " He felt parts of his mind begin to unravel as he took in the Colonel's condition. He was back in the chopper, waiting for Hannibal to get close enough to grab hold of the rope ladder so he could lift off. But this time, the Colonel didn't make it. Shaking his head violently to rid it of the memory only worsened the pain inside.
Blood formed a stream down the side of Hannibal's face from a gash in his temple. More blood slowly soaked the upper left sleeve of the older man's black knit turtleneck.
Murdock willed his feet to carry him over to the Colonel's side. Kneeling beside his friend and team leader, he felt for a pulse at the side of Hannibal's throat. He didn't find one at first. Fresh panic rising inside him, he tried the Colonel's wrist.
He was so intent on his task he didn't hear anyone come toward him.
"Merle? What's happening? What's going on?"
Looking up, he saw Aaron beside him, the kid's eyes widening as he noticed the guns and B. A.'s menacing size.
The pilot shook his head, ignoring the pain inside, and renewed his search for a pulse. Finally finding one, he sat back on his legs and gave Aaron a quick scrutinizing look.
"You 'n' your stepmom okay?"
Aaron nodded. "Is he one of your friends?" The kid pointed at B. A.
"Yeah. He's one o' my friends." Murdock didn't know what else to say.
Face reminded him of their mission. Addressing Gregory and Amos, he said, "One of you two goons are gonna take us to see your Reverend Barger. He has some things that don't rightfully belong to him and we intend on taking them back to their owners."
Gregory fidgeted and gave Amos a nervous look.
Brother Amos scowled at Face. "Barger isn't here. And those things you say don't belong to the Keepers were surrendered willingly."
"Where is he, sucka!" B. A. twisted his captive's arm behind him.
Amos gritted his teeth and spat out a single word. "Dead."
"No! That ain' true! I listened t' the tapes. I saw a shadow b'hind the curtain," Murdock insisted. Getting to his feet, he rushed forward to stand face to face with the Keeper.
Amos smirked. "That shadow was one of my men. And those tapes were recorded a few years ago. There is no Reverend Barger. Not anymore. He would never have scammed these fools out of their possessions. It all would have been wasted."
"It ain' true! It can't be true! I heard him! The community . . . it can't live without 'im . . . " Murdock stared down at Hannibal, then at each of his team mates in turn.
Amos laughed. "Barger's dead. Has been for months. This community's been following a ghost." He tried once more to struggle against B. A.'s armlock and received a punch to the jaw that rendered him unconscious.
As Amos sagged to the ground, Face bound Gregory's hands and feet with the climbing rope he had left. B. A. did the same with the other Keeper.
Looking at his friend, Face saw indecision and confusion in Murdock's eyes as the words began to register in his mind.
"Do you know how to use this?" Face asked Aaron, searching his eyes for the answer as he held out his gun.
"I think so," the kid replied as he took the weapon from the conman. Taking a deep breath, he added, "I will if I have to."
"Good. Just make sure our friend here doesn't crawl away. He has some explaining to do to the authorities when they show up. B. A., stay with the kid and help him keep these two under wraps."
Murdock turned away and stumbled toward the Illumination Room, the building with the curtain. He faintly remembered comparing Reverend Barger to the Wizard of Oz or a bunch of smoke and mirrors.
But he's more 'n that. He's got the key t' peace. He can't be dead! He can't!
He heard someone following him. As he reached the door, he kicked off his shoes. The person behind him placed a hand on his shoulder. The pressure wasn't enough to cause pain but it did momentarily ground him enough to glance back.
Face's frown turned into an artificial smile. "So is this where they keep all the books on what they've been skimming from these people?"
Murdock shook his head again. "No, not here . . . I gotta . . . I gotta see for myself . . . Amos's lyin' . . . he's gotta be . . . Reveren' Barger can't be dead . . . "
The smile vanished from the con man's face and he nodded warily. "Okay. But I'm going in with you."
The pilot opened the door and hesitated before entering the building. Quietly he ordered, "Take off yer shoes firs'. This's a holy place."