Chapter 7
They drove for a while, B.A. behind the wheel, Hannibal navigating while puffing on a cigar. B.A. hated cigars. Even more, he hated to think of his "new" van, which he had worked so hard on, being polluted with the foul things.
"Do you have to smoke those things in my van?"
"Where else do you want me to smoke them?"
"Outside. I could pull over."
Hannibal took the cigar out of his mouth and waved it philosophically. "Now, B.A.. If we pull over every hour, we're never going to make it to Chicago."
"Chicago?" B.A. and Face said in unison, each turning to look at Hannibal.
Hannibal smiled and nodded.
"Hannibal, I thought we were going to California, to check on Murdock." Face said.
"We are. We're just going to detour through Chicago to get there. Lynch is looking for us down south, so it only makes sense we travel north. Besides, I thought it would be nice to check in on Mrs. Baracus."
"Really? I can see my mama?" B.A. felt a lump rise in his throat, but hoped the guys did not notice. He turned back to focus on the road.
"Sure. We'll just have to be careful. Lynch probably has her place staked out. But we can work around that. We'll just need to get creative."
Hannibal placed the cigar back in his mouth, then said, smiling. "And I have a plan."
They drove on through the night, driving and sleeping in shifts. After stopping briefly for breakfast, they continued on their way, arriving in Chicago late in the morning. As B.A. wound through the traffic like the best of taxi drivers, Hannibal got him to talk about his old neighborhood for a while, picking up the details to help him flesh out his plan.
"So what should we do?" B.A. asked. "We go any further, we'll be there."
Hannibal nodded, motioning to Face. "Get me those disguises out of the back. We're gonna need a base of operations, and that means getting a motel room. B.A., think you can find us a motel where no one's going to ask any questions? I'll go in and rent the room. From there we can work on the rest of the plan."
B.A. nodded, making a turn to head to the Eastside.
"Here." Face handed Hannibal the bag of disguises. It was tough going with only the vanity and side mirrors to help out, but in a few minutes, Hannibal appeared to be about ten years younger. With the long haired wig, the facial hair he already had after a few days of beard growth and the addition of a fringed beaded vest from Murdock's bag of fashion faux pas, he looked very hip. The last thing Lynch's men would be looking for would be a hippie, Hannibal hoped.
B.A. looked over, and then shifted his eyes immediately back to the road. He looked like he was about to explode as he held in his reaction. Then, all of a sudden, he began to snicker. The sound of his laughter made both Hannibal and Face stop their adjustments to the disguise and stare at B.A.. Their grim friend seldom laughed.
"You see somethin' funny, man?" Hannibal said, completely in character.
That caused B.A. to laugh louder, which made Face begin to snicker as well. "I just never expected to see you wearin' something like THAT, Hannibal." B.A. replied. "But it's good. You won't stick out where I'm takin' us."
They waited in the van while Hannibal went in to pay for the room. The motel was old. Face could tell it had been built in the fifties, and it appeared that was the last time it had been painted. The parking lot was old and the asphalt was broken and cracked in places. The swimming pool was empty, but of course, it was getting close to winter. It was still a sad sight somehow.
They sat there, staring up into the slate grey sky. "It looks like snow." B.A. murmured. "Might need to get some chains if it gets bad."
"Yeah." Face replied. He had no idea what a snow sky looked like, but he agreed anyway. It seemed strange to be worrying about snow when just a few weeks ago they had been focused on mosquitoes and rain.
Just then, Hannibal came back out, and slid into the van's passenger seat. "That was a lot easier than I thought it would be." Hannibal said. "Maybe I should have been an actor. I always wanted to do that, when I was a kid." He gave them a big grin. It was obvious he'd gotten a kick out of this.
"Do you think the clerk recognized you?" Face asked.
"Nah." Hannibal lit a cigar and then pointed in the direction of their room. "He was so old, he had trouble seeing if I gave him enough money when I paid him. Room 102, B.A. Around back."
Hannibal had strategically chosen the room, they both realized. Not because anyone would be looking for them in their new van, but there was less chance of someone seeing all three of them getting into the van at the same time. They grabbed only the essential gear they needed and headed into the room.
B.A. locked the door behind them, blocking out the biting wind. Face flopped down on one of the beds and heaved a sigh. The creaky, thin mattress beat the back of the van any day. Since he wasn't sure when he'd get the chance to stretch out like this again, he was certainly going to take advantage of it.
Hannibal sat in the chair nearest the window, propping his feet on the table. B.A. sat in the other chair and leaned forward across the table eagerly.
"Alright. Now that everyone's comfortable, let's think this thing through." Hannibal felt all the strings of the plan tying together in his mind, but wanted to make sure he hadn't missed a thing. Sometimes, out in the field, Face and B.A. often surprised him with an unconventional way of seeing things. It was just another reason they made such a great team.
The mission they were working on this time was different. The objective was more important than blowing up a bridge, somehow. He realized it as he glanced up into B.A.'s eyes. "We have to get you to see your mother, but without Lynch's men catching on. So the meeting can't take place at her apartment—we have to find somewhere else. Any ideas?"
B.A. nodded immediately. "There was this place we used to go when I was a kid. It's a diner -- and if I told her to meet me at the diner, she'd know where to go."
"That's good. The message has to be short, and we can't use the phone. How are we going to get it to her?" He glanced at Face, who was lying back on the bed, eyes closed.
"Flower delivery." Face said. He turned and opened his eyes for just a moment. "We can write the message on the card. That way we don't even have to go near her apartment."
"Would anyone recognize you at the diner?" Hannibal asked, chewing thoughtfully on his cigar.
"I don't think so. I was about ten or twelve last time I was there." B.A. replied.
"In one of those heavy coats and a knit cap, his own mama might not recognize him." Face called out, without opening his eyes. He stretched again, and let out a sigh.
"Oh, she's gonna know it's me." B.A. said. "Trust me, Face."
"OK. Let's set the meeting for tomorrow night. We'll need to drive by the diner this afternoon to check the place out so that Face and I know where to set up surveillance. If she's followed, we're going to have problems." Hannibal had no idea if B.A.'s mom would even worry about being followed by Lynch's men.
"She won't lead them to us." B.A. said. "She's too smart for that."
"I hope so, B.A. I don't want to go back to powdered eggs and laundry soap." Face complained.
"Don't worry, kid. After some of the things we've pulled off in the past, this will be a piece of cake."
With the toe of his boot, Hannibal nudged aside the curtain so he could have a clear view of outside their room. A smile crossed his face as he noticed that tiny white snowflakes had begun to swirl down from the sky. It was a sign that the jazz was with them; if it kept snowing, the snow would at least make it harder for anyone trying to tail Mrs. Baracus. "Check it out, guys." He said, pointing outside the window.
"I knew it looked like snow." BA said.
"Well, snow or no snow, it's time to take care of the flowers. So hop to it, Lieutenant."
The bell on the door jingled as Face walked into the flower shop.
The young clerk couldn't help but smile when she saw him. Even with the fake wig, he knew he was still handsome.
"May I help you?"
"Yes. I would like to send flowers to my aunt. Well, she's not really my aunt, but I've always thought of her like that. She took care of me after school when I was just a little boy so I wouldn't have to stay by myself."
"Awh, how sweet! What kind of flowers would you like to send?"
"Well, I'd like to send a big bouquet – something that will cheer her up. It's her wedding anniversary, but her husband died recently. It's going to be a hard day for her."
"That's so sad – but so nice of you to send her flowers!"
Face could tell the clerk was eating his story up. "Well," he sighed, "it's the least I can do, after all she's done for me."
"We have plenty of large bouquets – this one is particularly pretty." The clerk showed him a large arrangement of pink, white, and yellow flowers. "I think it would cheer her right up."
"They're perfect! I knew you would know exactly what to pick … Janet." Face finished, having read her name off her apron. He leaned onto the counter for good measure.
Janet beamed at him.
"And you are…"
"Steve" Face said.
"Steve." The clerk repeated, eyes sparkling.
"How much do I owe you for the flowers?"
"They are $35."
Face's countenance fell. "That's a bit out of my budget, Janet. But they are such beautiful flowers…" He looked at her with a sad expression as his words tapered off.
Janet leaned forward on the counter, and lowered her voice. "Well, since it's for a good cause, and the owner's not here today… I can give them to you for cost. "
Face smiled. "That's wonderful! Thank you, Janet. I won't forget this… or you." He picked up her hand and kissed it for good measure.
Janet smiled. "Me either."
Hannibal looked up from the newspaper he was reading when Face walked into the motel room.
"Get the flowers?"
"Being delivered as we speak."
"Good work. Let's grab some lunch." Hannibal folded the newspaper. "The snow is supposed to pick up tomorrow. It should be perfect." He grinned at both Face and B.A., then got up to get his coat.
"What kind of flowers did you get for her?" B.A. asked as he shrugged into his own heavy, hooded coat.
"Pink and white tea roses with some yellow daisies." Face said. "It was the best bouquet in the store, B.A."
B.A. smiled at him as they started out the door. "She'll like them. She always liked roses. Thanks, Face."
"Pull over here, B.A."
B.A. pulled over to the curb and parked the van.
"I'll grab some hot dogs from that street vendor and be back in a jiffy." Hannibal hopped out of the van and walked toward the vendor. It was early afternoon, so the lunchtime crowd had dwindled. But it was still Chicago, and, therefore, the streets were still busy.
"I'll take 12 dogs with mustard and relish, and 3 cokes." Hannibal told the vendor.
"That'll be $8.50." The vendor said, while fixing the order.
Hannibal began fishing the money out of his pocket when he heard shouting coming from across the street.
"How many babies did you kill?"
"How many villages did you burn?"
Hannibal's head jerked up, seeing four young men, shouting at a shabbily dressed man, who sat leaning against a building. One of the young hecklers spat on the man, who made no effort to fight back.
Hannibal immediately forgot the hot dogs and began running across the street. Since he was still in excellent shape, it was mere seconds before he was staring down the hecklers.
"Is there a problem here?" Hannibal asked, eyes blazing. .
"Sure is. This drunk is a killer."
Hannibal glanced down at the seated man, whose eyes stared into nothingness. A bottle was tucked into his jacket pocket- his army green jacket pocket. Hannibal instinctively stepped between the man and the hecklers.
"I think you are the ones with the problem." Hannibal uttered in a low voice.
"That so?" one of the bullies asked. "Care to discuss it more in the alleyway?"
"I don't think you want to do that." Hannibal said.
The young men all laughed. "What," one of them said, "are we supposed to be afraid of you, old man?"
"Yes, you should be." Hannibal said, as he stepped into the alley.
"What the …?" Face mumbled, upon seeing Hannibal run across the street.
"Looks like he's talking to those guys." B.A. said.
"Uh oh, we have trouble." Face said, as he watched Hannibal step into the alley, the four young men right behind him.
B.A. and Face threw open their doors and began running across the street.
To be continued…