"Alright, Captain, what do we need to do?" Hannibal, matter-of-fact as ever, settles back into his camp chair, a fresh whiskey in his hand.
"Yeah, man, does she need to be watched?" B.A. asks pointedly.
Face remains silent, sullen from being rebuked by his friend. At least the pilot doesn't pull away when he wordlessly treats Murdock's bitten hand. Sophie's screams can barely be heard anymore but the creaking rattle of the gurney and restraints are a constant reminder of her presence at the back of the tent.
"No, we don't need to watch her. She'll get out of the bed on her own when she wakes up," HM starts, watching the bandages wrap around his hand. "I don't really know what to do next; we can't keep her in the camp... Waaah, we are on the edge of a war zone, though..." he trails off for a second, thoughtful, "No, no. It's just not safe here."
"That's the second time you've said that, Crazy," B.A. says. "Who's safety we talkin' about here?"
Murdock forces a smile, "The camp's, yours... everyone's," he gestures grandly.
"Hey, hold still, buddy, not done yet," Face commands gently, grabbing the bandaged hand.
"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation," Murdock tries to explain again without explaining anything.
"We're trying to understand," Hannibal interjects," but you haven't given us much to work with."
A frustrated noise escapes the pilot. "This isn't easy... Okay. I became crazy, you know?" HM looks to his teammates, searching for understanding, "Sophie CAME that way," he exclaims, gesturing toward his sister.
"She's part, er most of the reason I am the way I am. She taught me how to let go of... And, and what to do when the voices... She escaped the wards every day, to find ME... I'VE been covering up Simon's... you know, you must know, even before she was FIVE...Dozens AFTER that... then I was in the Army... They put her in general population... FIFTEEN in two days. That's when the judicial murder was handed down... I was already in Mexico... Fed tried to fast track her, right? But she's here... she's here... she's..," Murdock stops, twitches; he scrubs his hands over his face, glancing at his friends, gauging their reactions. "I can get answers out of George... if he's not gone senile... It's been a long time, though."
"Are you saying that she's been killing people since before she was five, Captain?" Hannibal asks leaning forward, giving the pilot no way of avoiding the question.
"Not her, not Sophie," HM's voice cracks, his gaze watery and desperate, "SIMON and Dolly, even George, that old bastard. Marie will only defend herself... It's been so long, there might be others. Sophie's still in there, somewhere. She has to be... she's my baby sister..." Tears spill from Murdock's eyes, he's rocking again, and no more half explanations are forthcoming.
B.A. reacts first; he hunkers down in front of the madcap and gently takes hold of his thin wrists.
"Hey, Crazy," Baracus says softly, leaning into the rocking lunatic, "Let's get outa this place for a bit. Come on."
Murdock nods and allows B.A. to drag him to his feet. The big guy keeps hold of one wrist, leading the pilot out of the tent, snatching the bottle of whiskey that's offered by Hannibal as they pass.
"I should talk to the General in the morning about this... development," Hannibal says more to himself than to Faceman who nods, staring at nothing, lost in the sounds of the shaking gurney and rattling chains in the dark, far corner of their tent.