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 27
Richter noted Murdock's groggy, almost sleepwalking state and stabbed Hannibal with a furious glare. The doctor had several questions, too many for Smith to answer during this transfer.
Such as what prompted the need for sedatives to be used.
His first concern had to be getting Murdock into the hospital and up to his room without further arousing the demons that caused this latest episode. For now, he seemed subdued, almost resigned to his fate.
He hoped the A-team leader would at least call some time in the next twenty-four hours to find out how the Captain was doing. Richter had to know what the circumstances were leading up to this psychotic episode before he could adequately treat it.
Maybe by then he would be less upset over the state his patient was returned to him.
But I doubt it.
A good night's sleep looked very unlikely he realized as he pressed the button for the elevator and heard Murdock mutter, "Gotta get clean . . . gotta . . . get clean." The pilot whimpered as he wiped his hands viciously on the T-shirt he wore as if trying to remove mud or . . .
Suddenly understanding what Murdock might be doing made Richter's blood pressure rise.
Is he over in Nam? Or is this a reaction to something Smith had him doing?
Smith's phone call couldn't come soon enough.
oooooo
B. A. watched from the driver's seat as Richter helped the mentally and physically drained pilot into the hospital. He hadn't expected Murdock to look at him but it was a hard thing to see Face's shoulders sag because his best friend didn't acknowledge his presence as he was being led away.
He didn't know how Hannibal felt about it. His leader's expression was hard and unreadable as he got in the van and ordered him to drive.
What Murdock had done since the episode in the compound building where the curtained area was reminded the Sergeant of another time in a place none of them wanted to think about.
Hesitating, with his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, he remembered and grimaced. He might as well put his thoughts into words.
"That crazy stuff he was doin' remind anyone else o' that time in Nam?" He glanced at Face and Hannibal and saw that they remembered, too.
How could any of them forget Murdock standing under the small waterfall by the river, fully clothed in his POW rags, singing that song and desperately trying to scrub Ferret's blood off his body? B. A. remembered he had to punch and knock out the crazy pilot that time as well. The remaining guards who were searching for them would hear him.
Fool wouldn't stop singin'. He woulda brought them right to us. An' then we'd be back in a POW camp . . . or they'd shoot us.
Then he carried Murdock through the jungle when his knee grew so infected he couldn't walk and his fevered mind became so delirious he didn't recognize them.
"He was in worse shape an' we didn't leave him behind then," B. A. growled, snapping out of the memory.
"But we left him this time," Face added bitterly, glaring at his leader.
"Different circumstances," Hannibal snapped. "He wasn't responding to us in the motel. He's with someone who knows him about as well as we do. Richter knows what to do to help him through."
"Does he? Was he ever in a POW camp? Did he ever kill someone? Hell, was he ever in the military?" the con man persisted.
The Sergeant knew his team mate was only voicing something he couldn't express any other way. He was worried about the crazy man, too.
Ain't sure he ain't beyond fixin' this time.
He usually didn't dwell on the things that might or could have been if they had used a different tactic to complete a mission but he agreed that this time Hannibal's plan may not have been the wisest course of action.
The fool shouldn'ta been the one goin' in there.
Instead of answering Face, the Colonel rubbed his eyes with one hand. B. A. noted how pale and fatigued the older man was. He made a decision and started the engine.
"I'm takin' us ta the beach house. You ain't lookin' so good, Colonel. That alright wit' you, Faceman?" He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the con man nod his agreement.
"And then we'll take a good look at that shoulder and make sure it isn't getting infected." Face finished B. A.'s thought.
The wound had been a through shot. Face had checked that and the gash on Hannibal's head back at the motel as soon as they got there but infection was always a possibility.
"I'll call Richter when we get there," the Colonel promised as he stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray. He let his body relax and closed his eyes.
oooooo
Daniela Scalatini, known by the hospital staff by the alias Donna Sullivan, walked briskly through the hall to the nurses' desk. Her shift was about to begin.
Since her fiance Captain Murdock was checked out of the hospital and on a mission, she felt like she was going through the motions of her job each day.
She hadn't slept well the previous evening. For some reason worry about what he might be doing kept her awake. He couldn't return soon enough.
If I'm lucky, it'll be a quiet night.
She didn't know why Hannibal needed him this time. She never knew the details of their missions, not even afterwards when she had time to be with Murdock. He wouldn't tell her.
I guess he knows I'd worry about him even more if I knew.
Sighing as she neared the desk, she resigned herself to the thought that well after her guy returned she would probably read about his adventure in the Courier.
She was startled to note Jackson, the night orderly, entering the pilot's room. That usually meant Murdock was back. In what shape he had returned she wouldn't know until she made an excuse to check on him. But he was back.
Immediately she felt her heartbeat quicken. She smiled at Sharon, the nurse she was relieving.
"I see Captain Murdock has come back to us," she murmured as casually as she could manage. She was impatient for her colleague to leave but if Sharon had any information about the condition in which Murdock had returned . . .
Looking up at her and then down the hall to the pilot's room, Sharon grimaced. "Doctor Richter's with him now. He's asked all calls to his office be redirected to this desk. There shouldn't be any coming in this time of night but that's what he wants." Sharon shrugged. "Sounds like he thinks he'll be spending the night here in Murdock's room."
Something happened. The doctor wouldn't stay here overnight if there wasn't. He'd leave it to Jackson and me. And Jackson was called in there.
Dani barely resisted the urge to hurry to the room to see what was wrong.
"Did you see him when he came back?" she asked instead, keeping her voice level and quiet.
Sharon nodded her head. "The strange thing was that Doctor Richter came up in the elevator alone with Murdock. He didn't ask for any help and none of us knew Murdock was even coming back tonight." Glancing again in the direction of the room, she mumbled, "Poor guy."
"Why? How bad is it this time?" Dani asked, hoping the other nurse took the question as her wanting to know what her night might be like. Not as a worried lover who suspected her man took great risks when he was with his team on a mission.
"From what I saw, he was mumbling to himself and not responding very well to Doctor Richter. No physical injuries that I could see." She paused before amending her statement. "I take that back. Something must have hit him in the jaw. It looked pretty painful." She didn't notice how Dani frowned at the information.
Dani stared anxiously at the door, wanting so badly to go to him, to help him through whatever he was suffering. Jackson left the room and headed toward the desk.
He isn't hurrying so Richter couldn't have ordered a sedative or restraints.
She didn't realize Sharon had gathered her things and was ready to leave until she touched Dani on the shoulder. "I'm going home. Whatever the doctor needs, I'm sure Jackson and you can handle it." She smiled and patted the other nurse's hand. "Sorry. I've already had one heck of a busy shift. I need a glass of wine, a nice soft bed and my favorite movie."
"Gee, thanks," Dani muttered, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, faking the grumpy attitude. "I guess I'll see you next Tuesday."
"Yeah. Have a nice night, Donna." Sharon waved her hand as she headed for the elevator.
"You, too," Dani called, then focused on Jackson waiting to tell her what Doctor Richter wanted them to do.