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 34
Face drummed his fingers on the hotel room tabletop as he waited for Dani to answer the phone at her apartment. None of them were sure why she hadn't been home whenever they made an attempt to call. She hadn't called Face either even though he broke Hannibal's rules and gave her his current phone number. Her absence and Richter's instructions for the team to stay away for a while worried the conman.
Hannibal wouldn't tell B. A. or me anything after he called Richter. I've got to know what's going on. To hell with Hannibal and his silence!
She answered on the fourth ring. "Hello?"
"Hey, Dani. It's Face." He waited for a response and felt the chilled silence as it stretched out for a few seconds.
Finally she sighed and answered him, her voice strained. "What do you want?"
What does she think I want?
"I didn't call to play twenty questions, Dani. I want to know how Murdock is. I know Hannibal called Richter but Hannibal won't tell me anything."
"Why? You need him to fly you somewhere? You need him for a mission? You tell Hannibal it isn't gonna happen. Not for a good long time." Her tone was fierce and even though she seemed angry, she sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
"I didn't call about a mission. Hannibal doesn't know I'm calling. But both B. A. and I want to know how he is. Is he talking to anyone?" He felt his own temper rising.
Does she honestly think that's the only reason we ever get him out of the hospital?
"I'm not answering any questions until you answer some for me." Her voice hardened. "I want to know who was telling him he had to find his purpose in life. Who's this leader he's talking about?"
"The cult leader. He heard a lot of stuff the guy said on some tapes they made him listen to that made staying with that group very attractive to him." Face nervously swiped his hand over his hair. He suddenly wished he had called Richter instead.
What was I thinking? She's afraid he won't come back from a mission one of these times and look how we returned him this time.
"Cult?" he heard her hiss. "What the hell were you all thinking?"
"It wasn't my decision. Hannibal made the plan and Murdock accepted his part in it. I have more mountain-climbing experience than Murdock. I guess that's why Hannibal . . . "
"I don't care. The man who asked me to marry him is trapped inside his own mind now because of Hannibal's plan and I don't know if I'll ever see him again. He's still the sweet man I fell in love with but he doesn't remember who I am!" He heard a deep breath on the other end of the line.
Face felt his stomach wrench. "Does he remember the team? Does he remember me, his best friend?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then she slammed the receiver down so hard he cringed.
Wrong thing to say, I guess.
In a way, her response to his question told him everything he needed to know. Glancing at B. A., he shrugged and put the phone back in its cradle.
"Fool ain' any better?" The big man's deep scowl might have seemed like irritation but Face knew how worried he was.
"She says he doesn't remember who she is. She said he's focused on finding his purpose in life, whatever that's supposed to mean."
"Means th' fool still ain' right," B. A. growled, looking down at the floor.
Face noticed the big man's inability to make eye contact. "If you're still thinking that knockout punch made him worse . . . "
"Ain' that, man."
The con man watched as B. A. stared at his hand and slowly flexed the fingers, curling them into a fist.
Better to drop it. He won't stop regretting that punch until he sees Murdock's alright.
"He needs us to bring him back from wherever he is in his mind. Richter and Dani have had their chance. He needs us."
B. A. glanced up, a surprised look on his face. "Richter ain' gonna let us see him. Hannibal ain' gonna either."
"But we know how to get it done without them knowing, don't we?"
"We gonna break him outta there?"
"You know how to make the lights go out, right?" Face smiled, already thinking of the climb up to Murdock's window and how easy it would be to persuade his buddy to come with him.
That is, once I convince him we need him to fly us somewhere. He's had time to remember things. He'll remember me. Piece of cake, like Hannibal always says.
"Jus' like all th' other times?" There was a hint of determination in the big man's voice.
"Like the other times. Only this time Hannibal isn't going to know about it. We'll spring him tonight."
Just the act of breaking out of the VA should bring back his memory. At least, I hope it does.
oooooo
Later that afternoon . . .
Dani frowned at the envelope in her hand. She knew she was supposed to deliver it right away but she couldn't help but be curious.
Murdock got so few pieces of mail and then usually only junk mail and magazines he subscribed to. He had asked her to find out an ex-Huey pilot's whereabouts a year or more ago.
What was his name again? Joe . . . yeah, that's right . . . Joe Brovosky from Louisiana . . . H. M. wanted him to find out some information . . . but I don't remember him ever getting mail from Louisiana . . .
She turned the envelope over in her hands. The handwriting on the front from a decidedly feminine hand was in blue ink. The name was unfamiliar and the return address was not from anyplace near Murdock's home town of Sour Lake. It wasn't from Louisiana either.
If he doesn't remember me will he remember this person? I wonder who she is.
Knocking at Murdock's door and announcing herself, Dani produced the key and opened it. The pilot sat crosslegged on his bed, his hands on his knees, his eyes closed.
She sighed. Disturbing him when he was in this meditative state carried a certain amount of risk. The possibility of injury depended on how deeply he was focused.
She glanced at the bluish-green imprint of fingers halfway between her wrist and elbow. He apologized afterward but that didn't lessen the pain and fear she had experienced.
More cautious now, she spoke before approaching him.
"H. M.? I have a letter for you."
He frowned, making no other movements.
"It isn't junk mail," she continued, sitting down in a folding chair well away from his reach. "It's from someone in Texas."
He shook his head slightly as if trying to rouse himself from sleep but didn't open his eyes. "Don' know anybody that'd be writin' me from Texas. Gotta be a mistake."
"Well, it's addressed to a Captain H. M. Murdock and a woman sent it. If you want me to just leave it here . . . " She shrugged, knowing he couldn't see it and secretly hoping he wouldn't ask her to do that.
"What's th' name on it?" He glared at her then, his jaw tightening as if she had disturbed something extremely important.
"'Paula Heller Fromstead.'"
His eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Heller?"
That name. I don't remember him ever talking about anyone named Heller. But he reacted to it.
Nodding, she repeated the full name. "Paula Heller Fromstead."
Suddenly very attentive, he swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to accept the envelope. The quick movement made her subconsciously step back a step. Unaware of her momentary fear, he grabbed it out of her hand.
"Should . . . should I stay?" She wasn't sure. He was already scanning the address and then eagerly slipping his finger under the flap to open it.
"Whatever . . . if ya wanna . . . " He waved his hand at her absently as he tore the letter from its confines and scanned it.
Then . . . then I guess I'll stay.
Chewing on her lower lip, unsure of what to do, she waited for him to say something, anything. Self-consciously she shifted from one foot to the other.
Finally, he glanced up at her, lost in thought. "I need a stamped envelope."
"I'll get one for you." Pausing and nodding at the letter, she asked, "Is it trouble?"
"I don' know. I gotta let this gal know she got hold o' me, that I still live here. Maybe she'll write 'gain 'n' let me know." He was reading the letter over again as he spoke.
Dani wished she could see what the woman had written but Murdock wouldn't like that. It would be violating his privacy to insist.
"If there's any way I can help . . . " She left the sentence unfinished.
"Yeah, you can." He raised one eyebrow as he shooed her out the door by waving his hand. "Get me a envelope 'n' stamp."
She left on the errand, knowing that she would have to once again talk to Face and this time ask him about Joe Brovosky from Louisiana and Paula Fromstead.
But will he even talk to me after I hung up on him this morning?