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 30
Late evening, the next day
oooooo
"Park there, B. A." Face pointed to a darkened corner in the parking lot of Serensetti's Italian Restaurant. "This shouldn't take very long."
The Sergeant did as he was told and killed the engine. "Sure ya ain't gonna run inta any trouble, Faceman?"
The con man got out of the van, smoothing out his suit jacket as he did. "Do you honestly think Schreiker's going to raise a racket in a fine dining establishment like this?" Face gave the driver a dazzling smile and a wink. He gazed at his reflection in the side mirror, adjusting his tie and adding, "Besides, you can't come in. You haven't dressed for this occasion."
He ignored B. A.'s disdainful grunt. "Serensetti knows me and doesn't ask questions. I'm one of his loyal patrons. If Schreiker so much as raises his voice to me, he'll be escorted out. This'll be a piece of cake."
B. A. groaned. "Ya say that an' there's sure ta be trouble. Always is."
"That's when it's one of Hannibal's plans. This one is mine." He gave his shoes a quick appraisal to make sure they were spotless and strolled toward the carved dark wood and glass double doors. He felt the black man's gaze on him and smiled to himself. The only thing that Serensetti or his staff would find unusual about his visit this time would be the absence of a young gorgeous wannabe starlet clinging to his arm.
He sighed and tightened his hold on the large white envelope holding Schreiker's file.
But business is business.
oooooo
When Dani entered Murdock's room she found him in much the same state as when she left to get his supper tray. Staring vacantly at nothing, his hands slightly trembling at his sides, he seemed to be totally unaware of anything around him. His lips moved as if he were rehearsing lines from a book but only a whisper came out. She had heard him say the words several times now.
If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads.
They might as well be dead.
On his television, an old Woody Woodpecker cartoon played quietly.
It was her idea to turn the channel to the Warner Brothers cartoon marathon, hoping he would respond, wishing he would realize he was no longer in a POW camp in Nam.
She didn't think he recognized even the T-shirt that was tacked up on the wall opposite him. He had done that himself after one of the team's missions.
She wasn't sure what significance that held for him.
And he wouldn't tell me what it meant either.
Maybe a reminder about something that happened during the mission? As long as he didn't paint the walls with his own blood, Richter and none of the staff questioned it.
"Suppertime, H. M.," she murmured. Dani settled back in the folding chair beside the bed after setting the tray of food in her fiance's lap. He stared down at it as if he didn't know what it was. He didn't look at her. Sighing, she waited for him to make a move.
If he doesn't eat by himself, I'll have to feed him by hand. He has to eat.
Dani bit her lower lip and silently cheered as she watched Murdock carefully tear a small piece from the buttered toast on his tray. He chewed slowly and swallowed.
Reaching over, she picked up the styrofoam glass of milk and touched his lips with the straw. She wasn't sure if he could handle the glass on his own so she held it for him.
"Have something to drink," she quietly encouraged.
After sipping a tiny amount, he tore another bit from the toast and placed it in his mouth. Scooping some mashed potatoes and chicken gravy up with the plastic spoon, she waited until he chewed and swallowed before offering it to him.
He frowned when she spooned the potatoes into his mouth but he didn't spit them out. She wondered what caused that reaction.
As soon as she was sure he swallowed the food, she offered the milk again. Another sip, almost like he was afraid it would be his last meal.
Was this what it was like for him in that POW camp? He told me about that Vietnamese cook that used to sneak them bread and how even that was something he and the guys ate slowly just to keep up their strength. No wonder he frowned when I fed him the potatoes. That wasn't on the camp menu.
She reflected on that last thought. It wasn't on the menu.
That gave her an idea, one she hoped would convince him a little more that he was no longer over there.
Dipping into the styrofoam bowl of butterscotch pudding, she held her breath. "Who says you can't have dessert first?" she murmured as she spooned it into his mouth.
Another frown as he felt the texture of the creamy food and tasted its sweetness. His eyes lost their vacant stare. He looked at her, finally seeing her, and swallowed.
Smiling at him, she was gratified when he tentatively smiled back.
"H. M.? Do you know where you are?" She searched his expression for some sense that he recognized her or his surroundings. Her heart ached for him.
His gaze wandered from her face to the arcade game and dresser along one wall, the T-shirt hung as decoration, the sink near the door, then back to her. The confusion in his eyes was overwhelming.
I suppose I should be glad he isn't speaking Vietnamese and thinking he's in the POW camp anymore. But he still doesn't recognize me.
Continuing to examine her facial features, he eventually shook his head 'no' and guessed. It came out in a hoarse whisper. "Cam Ranh?"
Cam Ranh? He's still in Nam but at least he isn't thinking he's in the camp anymore.
"No, not Cam Ranh. You're in a hospital stateside." She resisted telling him more, not knowing how much truth he could handle at one time.
"Stateside?" he echoed in disbelief.
She watched as he took in the information, then stared anxiously down at the blanket covering his lower body.
"My leg. They saved it?" he croaked, a hint of fear in his question.
For a moment she didn't understand what he meant. Then, remembering some of the details of his medical history, she took his hand in hers. Looking into his eyes, she answered as cheerfully as she could.
"Yes. Your leg is fine. Both of them are. And if you feel up to it later, before your bath, we can take a walk up and down the hallway. Would you like that?"
Please, please, say yes. Show me you're starting to come back to us.
He pulled his hand away and fidgeted with the top edge of the bed sheet. Looking down, he stammered, "I . . . I don' know." Then he glanced up at her with a shy smile. "But that bath sounds jus' fine."
She blushed a little, knowing he thought she was a nurse at the Cam Ranh Bay hospital in Nam and not the woman he proposed marriage to months ago.
But if we continue working with him, maybe he'll remember?
He took another bite of his toast, not realizing the pain in the heart of the woman sitting beside him, encouraging him to finish his meal.
oooooo
The piano player was playing soft slow music when Schreiker arrived. A few couples were on the dance floor already.
Their client looked out of place at Serensetti's and extremely nervous and uncomfortable. As the waiter led him to the table where Face sat enjoying an appetizer of lobster caponata, the con man got an uneasy feeling about the man's body language.
For someone who's eager to get his hands on the folder I have with me, he looks like this is the last place on earth he wants to be.
Face decided he would conduct this business as quickly as he could and make an excuse to leave as soon as possible. A rewarding thought crossed his mind as he motioned for Schreiker to have a seat and asked the waiter to pour each of them a glass of Chardonnay.
If I pull it off, Schreiker can pay for the appetizer and wine. Hope he hasn't tapped out his bank account.
He scanned the room carefully, looking for anyone that seemed to be watching where Schreiker went and whom he was with.
There! Those two guys sitting at that table by the potted palm.
Swinging his gaze to the main entrance, he noted another man standing as if waiting for a table. He glanced in Face's direction and then looked away.
How obvious can they be? Well, won't this be interesting.
He wasn't sure if the three were some of Decker's men or someone Schreiker hired to get his money back after the transaction was complete.
It really doesn't matter. I'll either be arrested and thrown in Fort Bragg or rolled for the money out in the alley.
Neither of those options appealed to him. The con man spied a dark-haired beauty seated in a booth across from a muscular blonde bodybuilder type. He smiled, then winced.
Felicity may just be my way out of this situation. The guy she's with looks like he could do his share of injury to me. But if it helps me avoid being caught . . .
"You have the papers they took from me?" Schreiker removed an envelope from his jacket pocket.
"You have the money?" Face responded, waiting to pass the large envelope to their client, keeping it out of sight in his lap.
"Right here," the other man muttered, tapping the smaller envelope on the table.
"You're lucky I'm not going to ask for more. Collateral damage done to two of our guys." The con man lost his smile and glared at Schreiker. "And you didn't mention a wife and a son when we made our deal."
For a moment the client reddened, gulped, then put a faked grateful expression on his face. "You got them out? Safely, I hope?"
"That wasn't part of the deal. We made sure they would be safe staying with the group. We got what you wanted, no more, no less." The con man saw the other man's relieved look and felt a wave of anger run through him.
He's happy they didn't come with us. What a bastard! But now's not the time to lose my temper.
He saw the man near the door move across the room toward them and made a quick decision. Dropping the envelope on the floor and yanking the money from Schreiker's hand, he tucked it away in his inside suit jacket pocket and maneuvered through the increasing number of couples dancing to the piano music. He didn't have to look back to know that their client scrambled for the abandoned file instead of pursuing him.
"Felicity! Remember me?" He stopped at the booth and bent down to give the young beauty a peck on the cheek. He let his hand rest on her shoulder, creating a predictable reaction from her date. Purposely turning his back on him, Face lavished his charm on the woman.
"You're looking especially wonderful tonight." He could almost feel the waves of hot rage coming off the muscle man behind him.
"Temp!" She smiled, blushing and unaware of her companion's glower. "Are you alone?"
Face returned the smile and motioned with his head to the dance floor. "I was. I'm not now. Do you want to dance?"
Just as he hoped and expected, the bodybuilder stood and tapped him on the shoulder. "Back off, buddy. She's with me."
The con man turned to answer and found himself gazing directly at the man's deeply clefted chin. Slowly he raised his eyes to meet the bodybuilder's intense glare.
He's a big one. I hope Serensetti intervenes before this guy kills me.
"All I did was ask her for a dance. Do you have a problem with that?" Face tried not to think how much pain he was about to be in.
But those at least those three goons that were with Schreiker won't try to grab me.
"Yeah. I do." The bodybuilder's jaw muscles were working hard as he drew back his huge fist.