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 24
Murdock was deathly silent on the trip to the motel. The farther they got away from the compound, the less the pilot struggled until finally he didn't move at all. He stared so vacantly into the sky above as B. A. drove the pickup back to Palmdale that Hannibal and Face exchanged worried glances.
"Hey, buddy. They'll be alright. Luke isn't going to let the group go without someone to guide them. He said they had Barger's words to show them the way even if they didn't have Barger himself." Face watched desperately for some sign Murdock heard him.
A pained frown appeared on the pilot's face but he didn't make a sound.
Hannibal dug a small penlight out of his pocket and flashed it briefly into each of Murdock's eyes. When Face gave him a questioning look, the older man shook his head and explained. "I'm just checking that B. A. didn't give him a concussion."
"And?"
"He isn't reacting to the light like he's sensitive to it." The Colonel passed his hand in front of Murdock's blank gaze. "He isn't vomiting. We aren't having trouble keeping him awake now that he's conscious." He shook his head again.
"So why is he not responding to us?" The younger man scanned his friend's face, anxious for any movement that showed Murdock was still aware of them. There was none.
"I don't know. We'll watch him for three or four hours but right now I don't think B. A. did more than give him a headache and a bruised jaw." Hannibal slipped the light back in his pocket and sagged against the side of the pickup, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching the gunshot wound for a moment.
"Maybe you should be laying down, too, Colonel," Face suggested.
"When we get to the motel, I will." Hannibal forced his eyes open again to stare down his second-in-command.
The con man shrugged, knowing no matter what he said, he would not convince Hannibal to relax or subject himself to an evaluation of his shoulder or head wounds until then.
"You have Schreiker's file?" the Colonel asked.
"Right here." Face handed the manila folder to his leader and watched as the other man flipped it open to scan the contents. "They had an entire filing cabinet full of these. The drawer holding this one was locked." He smiled at Hannibal. "But there isn't a lock anywhere that I can't get around. Anyway, I'm pretty sure Amos and his buddies were fleecing the flock for quite some time, maybe even before they killed Barger."
Both of them heard the hitched breath Murdock took when the con man mentioned Barger's fate.
Hannibal looked up from the file, closing it and setting it aside, its contents temporarily forgotten. "Captain?"
"Where's Aaron? Where's th' kid?" Murdock rasped. He turned his gaze on Hannibal. Finding no immediate response he grasped Face's arm so tightly, the con man grimaced. "Where is he?" he repeated.
Relieved the pilot was talking at last, the Colonel answered. "He'll be fine. He stayed behind with the group."
Face flashed a warning glance at the other man. Reaching out, touching his friend on the shoulder in an attempt to release his panicked grip on his forearm, he explained. "If Aaron disappeared with us, his stepmother could accuse us of kidnapping. You know that. And the life of a fugitive isn't a life for him. Luke will make sure he stays out of trouble."
"I promised 'im. I promised!"
"But we didn't, Captain, and that's final!" Hannibal snapped. His tone was so harsh that both Face and Murdock flinched. The con man recognized that the older man had mixed feelings about leaving Aaron behind but Murdock didn't realize it from the stunned look he gave the Colonel. For a second the pilot seemed to want to continue his protest. Just one more pleading look at Hannibal's unyielding expression told him it was useless.
Redirecting his gaze to the starry skies above, he let out a tired breath.
"Then I failed 'im. He wanted out." With that, Murdock closed his eyes in resignation and stopped arguing.
oooooo
O' course they don' understan' why this's 'portant t' me. They didn' promise. I did.
He wondered as he listened to Face and Hannibal talk about the contents of the file if either of them would have promised Aaron his freedom.
Prob'ly not. They wouldn'ta trusted Aaron t' help 'em.
His thoughts drifted to bits and pieces of Reverend Barger's teaching, the parts that had appealed to his fractured mind.
It is for the benefit of the group that kindness, gentleness, love, be the catalyst for every action a Keeper takes in his daily walk. Serenity and peace is our ultimate goal, Heaven our final home. Are you prepared to join us in our journey?
The question overwhelmed all of the voices murmuring in the background, both in his head and externally. He didn't care anymore whether Schreiker got his possessions back. The mission didn't matter. He had been forced by the men he had served with, the men who called themselves his friends, to abandon the Keepers.
Are you prepared to join us in our journey?
He silently cursed his photographic memory for letting those words echo in his brain. That question didn't matter anymore. The decision had been made for him.
Aaron didn't have a choice either. The decision had been made for him as well.
Without the peace offered by the teachings, Murdock knew he would continue to be plagued by the voices, nightmares and flashbacks.
It ain' fair.
That statement continued to plague him until he sensed the truck stop.
Face shook him gently by the shoulder. "Time to get up. We're at the motel."
When he opened his eyes, he saw Hannibal was already unlocking the door to one of the rooms. The con man got out of the bed of the truck and looked at him expectantly. Holding out his hand he asked, "Do you need help, buddy?"
Murdock saw no other options but to get out too. B. A., noticing the pilot's reluctance to leave the security of the back of the pickup, was on his way toward the two men, ready to help Face wrestle him into the room, if need be.
Ain' no use t' resist. They'll bring me back t' th' VA soon, mission's over . . .
Sliding out of the truck bed, he directed his gaze to the ground and trudged to the open motel room door.
. . . 'n' then we'll see 'bout my choices.