The next morning, David Grant checked out of his hotel room, took his two suitcases out and threw them into the back of an Eldorado convertible and was about to get in when Hannibal bumped into him with an unlit cigar in hand and said, "Excuse me, sir, do you have a match?"
He kept Grant busy long enough for Face to plant the tracking device under Grant's car and then made a mad dash back to the van, and a minute later, Hannibal followed. They watched Grant's car pull out and leave the hotel parking lot, and a minute later they were on his tail. From a screen installed on the dashboard they were able to see the bleep heading off towards the intended destination.
"All seems to be a-go here," Face said, "Now let's get out of here."
B.A. was not happy with the seating arrangement in the van, he was driving of course, but he was stuck with Murdock beside him, and Face, Jean and Hannibal were in the back. Hannibal had taken out his movie makeup kit and was in the process of making himself into a very old man.
"Now everybody remembers the plan when we get to the hotel," Hannibal said, "Grant's not coming in for two days, so when he comes we'll have already gotten established there. We get adjoining rooms again as Henry Tuttle," he gestured to himself, "Eccentric old tycoon, and his three eccentric grandchildren," and gestured to the others, "On holiday." He looked to Face and Jean and reminded them, "So remember what that means, where the hotel staff and guests are concerned, you are brothers and sister."
Face and Jean turned to look at each other and both got a sickened look like they were smelling a bad fish, and each turned away shaking their heads with a unanimous, "Eck!"
"Tell me I don't have to kiss her," Face said to Hannibal.
Murdock fell back in his seat whooping and hollering and tilted his head back to see in the backseat, albeit upside down, and said, "That's got to be the first time Faceman ever said that about a woman."
"Murdock," Hannibal said, "Hand Face the phone, he needs to get our reservation for five set up before we get there."
"And where's this place we' going?" B.A. asked.
"It's called the Sea Mist Inn," Hannibal answered.
"Weird name for a hotel in Illinois, ain't it?" Jean asked, "Though as warm as it's getting today, I sure hope they have a pool."
"Well we'll go along with it," Hannibal responded, "And when we get there, remember, presentation is important."
And what a presentation they made. Upon entering the hotel, Hannibal was made up to look like he was about 100 years old with ratty gray hair under an old panama hat, makeup wrinkles that gave him resemblance to a prune, and he was pushed in a wheelchair by B.A., who was dressed in his usual attire of black pants, a long red muscle shirt, and of course his 40 pounds of gold jewelry; and trailing behind both of them were Face, Murdock and Jean, all of whom had swapped their regular clothes for sandals, sunglasses, jean shorts and Hawaiian style T-shirts, all of which had come from Hannibal's beach monster movie costume bag.
When they came to the front desk, they saw that the man behind it was the hotel's manager, and obviously he had no idea who these people were.
"May I help you?" he asked.
"Yes, sonny," Hannibal said, pretending with great efficiency that he couldn't bring his head all the way up, "Reservation for Henry Tuttle and family."
The manager looked behind Hannibal at B.A. and repeated, "Family?"
"Well you see, sonny, at my age I'm not in the best of health," Hannibal said, and with one hand he reached behind for B.A. and said, "This is my nurse, Lawrence."
"Nurse?" the man repeated as he looked at the large man covered in gold jewelry.
"He likes to dress casually, so I let him," Hannibal said, "And these are my three lovely grandchildren." He held his hand out and Face came up by his side first, "This is Dirk." Murdock followed after Face and Hannibal grabbed his hand and said, "This is my other grandson, Dwight." And Jean came up behind them and Hannibal introduced her, "And this is Melinda. Ain't too many men in my position could be blessed with triplets like these."
"Triplets?" the manager repeated as he looked the three people over curiously.
"Yes…obviously," Hannibal turned to them, "They're not identical. I bet I know what you're thinking, the boys look much older than the girl…and you're right, they do, and I'll tell you…the secret is alcohol, she drinks, and they don't, doesn't it make a world of difference?" Hannibal laughed. "Oh but don't worry, sonny, they're all old enough to drink, they just celebrated their 30th birthdays."
Hannibal's laugh unnerved the hotel manager who only stuttered in response at the three, "H-happy birthday."
"Anyway sonny, as I was saying, if you check your records," Hannibal said, "You should find a reservation for Tuttle."
They were given two rooms up on the third floor, adjoining as requested, one for Henry and Lawrence, and one for the three grandchildren, and once again four double beds to be split between them. Everybody stayed quiet until they got shown to their rooms and they were sure nobody was eavesdropping. Jean went over to Hannibal and tapped his foot with hers and said, "Hey Grandpa," she lowered her sunglasses to look him in the eyes, "I still say you made a mistake by not following Grant directly."
"Do you gamble, Miss Rhodes?" Hannibal asked.
"Only in life," she answered.
Hannibal smiled coyly and said, "I find your lack of faith severely underwhelming."
"Faith is not my problem, Smith," she told him.
"Uh huh," he looked at her and said, "Well when you find out what it is, then let me know."
He would never say anything to her of course, and at the moment he didn't want to say anything to the others either; but he could guess what her problem was, and if he was right, he could easily anticipate the next few days being a roller coaster ride with Sybil throwing the switch. Of all the jobs they'd ever done and all the clients they had and all the hostages they had to rescue, through all of it, one thing that they had never had to do was be in an enclosed space with a morphine addict suffering from withdrawal. Of course there was always the chance that they were wrong, he sincerely hoped that was the case; a lot of men had come back from Vietnam already hooked on morphine and then suddenly cut off when the VA let them go, and the results had never been pretty. If they were going to get this kid back to her parents in a few days, the last thing they needed was the same thing happening there.
As they got a few things unpacked for appearances' sake, Hannibal watched Jean, who made no move to take anything out of her bags, and just sat at the foot of one of the beds and nervously rocked back and forth with a distant look in her eyes. He tried to shrug it off, probably just the anticipation of catching Grant and Saunders and putting an end to this whole conspiracy. One thing he had noticed, when they had her knocked out and he was examining her the other day, he had been sure to look her over for needle marks, and was relived to find none; so if she was an addict he thought it was a safe bet she hadn't gotten her first or last taste of the stuff through a syringe, that was one thing in their favor anyway.
"I noticed," he told the others, "That the hotel has a large pool over in the side, I think it would be a good idea if we headed down there in a little while."
"What for?" Face asked.
"Well we may be an eccentric family but we don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves," Hannibal told him, "It would be perfectly normal to go swimming as warm as it is."
"And who all would that include?" Face inquired.
"You three, obviously," Hannibal said, "And B.A. and I will be close by keeping an eye on everything."
"For what, Colonel?" Murdock asked.
"Yeah, I thought you said Grant isn't coming for two days," Jean added.
"Who said anything about him?" Hannibal asked, "There's always the possibility that Lynch found out where we were going, and if not him, we also want to make sure the police don't come around asking questions about us either. And I'll bet we can pick up on most of the conversations going on around here at the poolside." Then it occurred to him to ask Jean, "Do you know how to swim?"
"Yeah," she answered.
"Good," Hannibal replied, and then to the three of them he added, "Get changed."
Hannibal stayed well in character of a jibber-jabbering old man who never shut up as B.A. pushed him in the wheelchair over to a table near the pool.
"Oh wait a minute," he said suddenly, "Put me in one of the chairs at the table, you know, I want to blend in with the others."
B.A. rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever you say, Grandpa," and he set the brake and hauled Hannibal out of the wheelchair and carried him over to the nearest table and set him down on one of the patio chairs.
"I wonder what's keeping Face and Murdock," Hannibal commented.
"Knowing that crazy fool," B.A. didn't finish that thought because he honestly didn't want to think about what Murdock was up to.
They got an answer a minute later though when they heard Murdock whooping and hollering and they saw him running out to the pool in a pair of swimming trunks, a T-shirt, and with a seahorse inner tube around his waist and floaties on his arms; he jumped clear over the side and made one large splash in the pool.
"Oh brother," B.A. groaned.
Hannibal watched the same scene and laughed instead, and as entertaining as that was, it was followed up when Jean and Face came out towards the pool also, Face also wearing swimming trunks and a T-shirt, and Jean in the blue sparkle swimsuit she'd worn when Lynch paid them a visit.
"Come on!" Jean said as she dragged him by the arm over towards the pool.
Face managed to stay in character as he got jerked the whole way, saying, "No thanks, sis!"
Jean called over to Murdock to come and help her, so Murdock climbed out of the pool and they each grabbed one side of Face and rushed him towards the edge of the pool and all three of them fell in and made a killer splash.
"You know," Hannibal continued to drawl on in his ancient voice with a twist of a southern accent, "It does an old man's heart good to see young people enjoying themselves."
"Mm-hmm," was B.A.'s only response from where he was reclining on a sun lounge near the table and the pool, but far enough away that he didn't have to worry about getting wet.
Hannibal may have only been half the age of the part he was playing, but the sentiment was all the same; he couldn't help but smile at his captain and his lieutenant jumping around in the water playing like a couple of children, and in between them was Jean, as Hannibal had hoped, howling with laughter as she and Face got into a fight splashing each other as hard as they could, genuinely smiling for the first time since they'd met her.
Maybe he was just getting philosophical in his old age, but he thought that he could draw a similarity between the girl, and Face; they all knew that in order to be the conman that he was, he always had a front put up for anybody and everybody that he talked to, always had his mask up, a protective barrier to separate the real him from the rest of the world, and unfortunately Hannibal could tell Jean was the same way, but for a different reason. This was the first time that they'd caught her with her mask down; here she wasn't the hard, cynical person she seemed to be, oh Hannibal had no doubt that a large part of it was real. The trauma that she must've suffered upon seeing her friend gunned down in cold blood alongside many others by the men who were supposed to be training them to serve their country, had to be great, there was simply no way around it. But, Hannibal was not as ready to declare her a lost cause as she was; he held fast to the belief that once the ring was finally broken, and she was able to return home with her parents, that her young life could return to something resembling normalcy. Somebody deserved a normal life, not being hunted at every point by soldiers and MPs, and if it couldn't ever be them, and Hannibal was sure it would never be them, then maybe they could spare this kid a similar fate.
Hannibal threw his head back and laughed as Face and Murdock alternated as one dove under the water as one surfaced and the other dove under to catch the other and that one would come up in his place. Jean had retreated to a corner of the pool but when Face resurfaced she came over to him and told him she would get Murdock for him.
"This I've got to see," Face said.
Jean pushed herself up onto the tiled edge of the pool and sat waiting; she had positioned herself so she was perfectly behind where Murdock came up for air, and when he did she jumped on his back and both of them fell back under the surface. When they came up a second time they were wrestling with one another and Jean was still on his back and trying to get him in a headlock.
"You know something, B.A.," Hannibal said, "I don't think Face would've ever wanted a sister."
Probably not," B.A. agreed, "But it looks like he got another brother instead."
Somebody sent a large splash in his general direction and managed to hit him, B.A. turned his head to the side and growled as he looked back at the three goofs in the pool. After a while, Face managed to get away from Murdock and Jean and climb out of the pool, and decided to lay out on one of the lounge chairs by the pool and take in some sun instead; but as soon as he sat down on it, the chair collapsed and he fell on the ground, and very quickly he heard everybody laughing at his expense. He glared across the other side of the pool at Hannibal and B.A. who were both about sick, as well as Murdock and Jean who were doing a very good impression of a hyena.
That night all five of them were together in the room Hannibal and B.A. were going to be using for the night; testing the level of soundproofing that went into the walls incase anybody would be passing by outside. Murdock had found a small radio in his bag and turned every dial every which way trying to find something but he wouldn't say what it was he was looking for. He finally settled on a station playing music suitable for either going deaf or raising the dead, and looked for somebody to dance with.
With the exception of B.A., they'd all been drinking that night and the others figured it must've taken effect with Jean because she volunteered to dance with Murdock; though what they did redefined dancing because all they did was join hands, each placed their free hand on the other's shoulder and they walked to the side one way, then back the other way, and occasionally went in circles. Hannibal watched the scene before them and laughed, B.A. only rolled his eyes and shook his head like they were all crazy, and Face decided to try and get in on the fun. He went over to them and tapped Murdock on the shoulder and asked, "Mind if I cut in?"
"Oh not at all," Murdock answered as he let go of Jean and instead grabbed Face and walked off with him.
"Muuuurdock!" Face whined as they waltzed over towards the bathroom.
Jean laughed and went over towards the others and said, "How about you, B.A.? You wanna dance?"
"No thanks," he firmly replied.
Jean looked to Hannibal and said, "And I suppose there wouldn't be any point in asking you, would there?"
"No, I'm like James Cagney, I don't even like to walk," Hannibal sarcastically responded with a Cheshire cat grin.
Jean turned around and laughed again as Face and Murdock came back their way, still in each other's arms, keeping fairly well in step with one another. Face broke away from Murdock and went over to Jean, who just pushed past him and said, "I'm going to sit this one out, my feet are killing me."
"Well I'm not surprised," Face told her, "Why couldn't you find a pair of boots that actually fit you instead of those clodhoppers?"
Jean sat down in a chair and massaged her feet through the large boots and answered with, "You might say they have a…sentimental value to them."
"Ain't nothing sentimental about getting trench foot," B.A. remarked.
"He's right, why don't you take them off? We're not going anywhere tonight," Face suggested.
"No thanks," she replied in the same manner B.A. had said it, "I don't take these things off until I get ready for bed."
"Oh, that reminds me," Murdock said from the other side of the room where he had settled for dancing by himself and wriggled and shimmied around like the fool B.A. was always calling him, "I sent some of our clothes down to the laundry to get cleaned, but I think I sent all of yours, Saint."
"Oh that's just great," she dryly remarked, "Nothing personal but I'm in no mood to sleep au natural with the present company in the vicinity."
"I thought about that," Murdock told her, "I could lend you an extra set of my pajamas for the night."
"Why not?" she didn't sound too enthusiastic of that, but as she got up to head to the bathroom, she went over to Murdock and added, "Though that reminds me, I hope you don't mind but I can't find my toothbrush so I've been using yours."
"Naw that's fine with me," Murdock told her, "I can't find mine either so I've just been using B.A.'s toothbrush."
"You WHAT!" B.A. jumped to his feet and made the whole room shake.
Murdock put his hands up and said, "Now calm down, B.A., I trust you, you look clean enough to me."
"That does it," B.A. told Hannibal, "This time I'm really gonna kill him." In two steps he was on top of Murdock and had his huge hands wrapped around Murdock's throat and was choking him.
Face was the first to reach them and to try and get B.A. off of Murdock, naturally without results; Jean scrambled over to their luggage and picked up one of her bags and, swinging it by the strap, hit B.A. square in the back of his head. It wasn't hard enough to knock him out like a boat oar or even Murdock's head, but it stunned him for a couple of seconds just enough to drop his arms at his sides and give Murdock the chance to get away.
"Well we'll see you in the morning, Grandpa," Face said as he picked up his bag, "I think it's time we went to our own room."
"Right-o," Murdock said as he picked up the portable radio and held it by his ear with one hand as he snapped his fingers in time with the music and followed him out the door. Jean picked up her bags and followed behind the men and they closed the door behind them on the way out.
Hannibal slipped back into character for a second and commented, "They're a nice bunch of kids, if not a little annoying."
"Wrong," B.A. replied, "They're very annoying."
Hannibal puffed on his cigar a couple of times and said in response, "Well weren't we all at that age?" and laughed.
Once in their own room, Jean went into the bathroom to change for the night, Face fell down on one of the beds and reveled in how soft the covers were and how tempting sleep was right about now, and Murdock still held his radio to his ear and danced in the corner facing the wall, scatting along with the music.
"Murdock," Face tiredly called from the bed, "Aren't you coming to bed soon?"
"Oh in a while, Facey," her replied as he gyrated, "You know at the VA they took away my radio when they found out I was rewiring it to make contact with the extraterrestrials."
"That a fact?" Face asked, his eyes closed and already half asleep.
The bathroom door opened and Jean stepped out wearing a set of Murdock's pajamas with Scooby Doo on them, and Face saw her and noticed that out of the boots she always wore, she had suddenly become shorter. Jean went over to Murdock who was dancing with his back to her and said, "Okay Murdock, you ready to resume our dance?"
"Why sure," he replied as he put the radio down on the table and turned around with open arms, but she was three inches shorter than when he last saw her and he said directly over her head, "Hey where'd you go?"
"Down here," she replied, tugging on his shirt to pull him down to her.
"How'd you do that?" he asked.
"I'm the incredible shrinking woman," she said as they joined together and started dancing.
Face didn't say anything but he thought it was a little weird since there weren't really any heels on the boots she always wore. But he didn't give it much thought and instead he turned over on his side and pulled the pillow over his head, trying to drown out the music from the radio, and Murdock's singing as they resumed going around the room in circles. However, his attempt to fall asleep was interrupted when he felt somebody poking the back of his leg.
"What is it?" he asked as he lifted the pillow on one side.
"Come on, Facey, it's your turn," Murdock said.
"My turn for what?" he tiredly responded as he let the pillow fall again.
"To dance with her, remember?" Murdock said as he grabbed Face and started pulling him off the bed against his will.
Face tried to protest that he was too tired and didn't want to anymore, but the pilot didn't pay any attention to him and dragged him off of the bed, jerked him to his feet and all but threw him at Jean, who promptly caught him and started doing the same dance with Face, with him more or less of an active participant. After that, Face started to come around and he managed to get into the swing of things, and he made the comment to her, "You dance nicely, have you taken lessons?"
"Not a one in my life," she replied.
"Ah," he said as if that explained it, "Could've fooled me."
Murdock sat on the edge of the bed and watched them with a rapidly growing interest. His head rested on his hand and, when Face turned around and could see him, had a dreamy look on his face, but Face was almost afraid to ask what was going through his mind at that time.
"So tell me," Face coyly said to Jean, "Do you have any boyfriends back in the states?"
Jean shook her head and answered, "Not a one, how about you?"
"Uh…" he was left hanging on that one because he hadn't expected that question.
Murdock jumped in, and also jumped off the bed as he explained, "He don't need one, he's got me."
"That would explain a lot," she replied.
A few seconds after she'd said that, Face realized it and turned to her and asked, "Huh?"
He jerked his head from one side to the other to look at Murdock and Jean when they both started laughing, and then it hit him what the joke was. He laughed slightly to go along with it, but all he wanted to do was crawl under the covers and fall asleep and stay that way until tomorrow.
It was the screaming that woke him up. Murdock shot up in bed gasping for breath again and felt his body covered in sweat. Immediately upon awakening he realized that his mind was a blank and he couldn't remember what his nightmare had been about. How then, he wondered, could he remember the screaming? Then it hit him that possibly the screaming he had heard that jolted him awake might've been his own, and he looked around the room to see if the others were awake. Turning to his left, he saw Face was still asleep in the other side of the bed, so he turned to the right and expected to see Jean the same way, but instead found her bed was empty, with the covers pushed back as if she'd left it in a hurry.
"Huh?" he asked as he swung his legs out of bed and he got up and went over to the bed to make sure he was seeing things right.
Sure enough, the bed had been slept in at some point in the night but there wasn't anybody there now, and the covers had practically been ripped off of it in Jean's attempt to get out of it. Murdock started looking around on the floor but it was too dark to see anything or anybody, so he quietly called out, "Saint? Where are you?"
He got an answer when he heard a sound coming from the bathroom. Making his way over in the dark, Murdock stood against the bathroom door and listened in; it sounded like Jean was choking. Ever so lightly, Murdock rapped on the door and said quietly, "Saint, are you alright?"
And then, absolute silence. For a few seconds there wasn't any noise whatsoever and Murdock was starting to consider what the possibilities were for that; then he heard the sound of her feet padding across the bathroom floor and coming to the door. He stepped back as he heard the lock being undone, and slowly it was pulled back and the blinding white light from the bathroom shone into the dark bedroom and Murdock put his hand over his eyes so he could see in, and what he saw shocked him.
Jean stood in the open doorway, still wearing the pajamas he'd given her; her hair stood up in damp spikes, her skin was as white as a ghost and covered in sweat, her eyes were a burning telltale red and she had one hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the noise she had been making. Her eyes were wide and Murdock thought she looked like she'd seen a ghost.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
Jean's only answer was a step back away from the door, a sign for him to come inside, and he did.
Hannibal lay in bed, restless after half an hour of trying to get back to sleep but with no success. He looked at his watch and was sure the time had to be wrong, but he found the watch was running perfectly as it usually did. Since he couldn't get to sleep, he did the only thing that made sense to him and called over to the occupant of the other bed, "B.A."
"Eh?" the other man grunted in his sleep.
"B.A.," Hannibal repeated, louder this time.
"What?" B.A. asked as he sat up and opened his eyes.
"Are you awake?"
B.A. scowled over at him before hitting his head back against the pillows and laughing dryly, "Well I am now, Hannibal, what's up?"
"I don't know yet," Hannibal replied.
"What time is it?" B.A. asked.
"About 5:30," Hannibal answered.
"In the morning?" B.A. couldn't believe it.
"Yeah I know," Hannibal pushed back the covers and started to get up, "Something feels off. I'm going to go check on the others and see if they're up."
B.A. didn't get what was going on but he figured he ought to go with Hannibal incase his presence would be requested. He followed behind Hannibal, who quietly opened the door separating their room from the next and went in. It was still dark in the room, but it was light enough that both men could see something that struck them both as odd. In the bed furthest from them, Face remained asleep, his arms wrapped around the pillow under his head, and he was the only person in the bed. In the one nearest the door, Hannibal and B.A. were both surprised to see Murdock asleep, with Jean on top of him. Whatever had happened last night, it had ended with Jean falling asleep in his arms, using his chest as a pillow; her arms were stretched out and her hands had grabbed him by his upper arms, as if she was trying to ensure he didn't get up.
Neither man said anything as they stepped further into the room, but Hannibal went over to the bed and gently tried to pull Jean off of Murdock, but that only resulted in her subconsciously digging her nails into his skin to keep the contact from breaking, and Hannibal took the hint.
"Okay, okay," he said as he let go of her and instead brought the top sheet and bedspread up on both of them. He turned to B.A. and said quietly, "We'll let them sleep a while longer," he turned and pointed to the occupant of the other bed, "But this one I want to talk to."
Hannibal went over to the second bed and woke Face up, and as the younger man was taking his time in coming around and being fully alert, Hannibal gestured over to Murdock and Jean and asked, "What went on here last night?"
Face looked over to the other bed and told Hannibal, "I couldn't tell you that, they didn't invite me over last night."
"Well what happened?" Hannibal asked him.
"You're talking to the wrong guy," Face said, "All I know is Murdock got up sometime in the night, she was in the bathroom, he went in to talk to her, and a while later they both came out and got in her bed and that's all I know."
Hannibal and B.A. exchanged very confused glances, apparently neither of them knew what to think about this, and the only thing more puzzling was how to handle the situation. Hannibal was left scratching his head on this one; ordinarily the colonel didn't tolerate any secrets within the team, but this involved someone else as well, and while he didn't like the idea of her keeping any secrets from them either, he realized just how delicate of a situation this could be. After giving it some thought he told B.A. that they would for the time being anyway, leave it alone; they would go back to their room and pretend nothing had happened, and wait and see if either Murdock or Jean said anything about it. If they did not, he added, they would wait until this whole ordeal was over and they had the girl back home before they grilled Murdock about it. B.A. only nodded and he and Hannibal went back to their room, and Face settled back in his bed and went back to sleep.
"Hey Saint!" Murdock said later that morning when he returned to their room, and seeing nobody he called again, "Saint!"
"What is it?" the bathroom door opened and Jean emerged dressed in one of the hotel's robes. Inside Murdock could hear the shower running and the steam was just starting to build up.
"Oh, the hotel laundry ain't got our clothes back yet," he told her, "And I know all your stuff was sent down last night, so I thought you could borrow some of mine until yours come up later."
Jean looked annoyed at this news but she nodded and said, "I appreciate it, Murdock, just get out anything you're not gonna need right away and set them out."
Murdock nodded and went over to his bag and dug out a pair of blue jeans that he seldom wore, and an E.T. T-shirt and, since he knew she wouldn't come out to get the clothes after the shower, went to the bathroom door, opened it up and stepped in, and quickly came running back out as he was chased by the metal soap dish, Face's electric shaver, a pumice stone, and anything else that was in Jean's reach as she yelled at him, "No, on the bed! On-the-bed!"
"Don't get excited!" Murdock said in a heavy accent, on his way out he tripped over one of her bags but regained his footing, and chancing to turn around he said again, "Don't get excited!"
The screaming brought Face, Hannibal and B.A. in from the room next door, and all inquired to know what was going on. Murdock got right in their faces and said in an explosive tone that not only commanded everybody's attention but got it, "DON'T – PANIC!"
"What did you do now, fool?" B.A. asked him, already anticipating the worst.
"Nothing!" Murdock told them matter-of-factly, "I didn't do anything and I-did-not-see-anything!"
The bathroom door opened wider and Jean stepped out again, dressed in the bathrobe and said to the others, "I guess you can take his word for it, otherwise the first thing out of his mouth would've been…" she shook and brought her hands up to her face and screamed, "'Noooo, my eyes! I'm b-lind!'" and she laughed as she looked at them.
"Is everything alright, Miss Rhodes?" Hannibal asked, not wanting to take any chances of there being any misunderstanding.
"Yeah everything's fine," she insisted as she pulled the robe tighter, "I was just getting a shower, and if you'll excuse me, I'm getting a draft out here."
Murdock had been sure to look down at the floor when she came out, and when he did he realized when he tripped over her bag, half of the stuff came spilling out of it again. So once she had gone back in the bathroom, he bent down and started putting her belongings back inside when he found a book in the middle of the clutter, and already opened to a page in the middle. Curiously, he read it and it brought a sober look to the pilot's face, and drew out from him a grave, "Oh no."
"What is it, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.
Murdock picked up the book and gave it to Hannibal at the page it was open to. Hannibal saw that it was a small black journal and the writing inside had been made with a black pen with blobbed ink, but he was able to read the passage that had gotten Murdock upset, and saw it had the morning's date on it.
"I had another dream about them last night," he read, "Smith, Baracus, Murdock and Peck, all in that order, lying alongside each other, in coffins. They were all dressed in their army uniforms. The army had finally caught them, and after a trial they were sentenced to execution by hanging, but as they were led out to the scaffold, Smith grabbed hold of the noose and said 'I have an announcement to make and would like everyone's attention, you will not hang us here today, because we are already dead.' They had taken cyanide pills and right after he said that, they took effect and one by one they all fell down dead. I've tried everything I could to get them off of this case. I told them to go back, I told them to stay out of this, to leave me alone, but they wouldn't listen. What none of these idiots realize is that as long as they stick around me, they are my damn liability; if anything happens to them while they're here wasting their time trying to help me, it's going to be their blood on my hands, and I can't let that happen. The world needs the A-Team, it does not need me, especially once this mission is over."
Face was horrified by what Hannibal had read, and B.A. looked like he was having trouble keeping his breakfast down. Now a lot of things were starting to become clear. Hannibal slowly closed the journal and told Murdock, "Get her bags, dump them all out, go through everything! Look in everything! I want to make sure she's not holding out on us with a second batch of pills."
It didn't take Murdock any time to get the three bags Jean had brought with her, and dumped the contents out of each one on the floor. All four men grabbed everything, opened up everything, and checked for anything that looked even remotely suspicious; in total they found three guns, a few hundred rounds of ammunition, a pocketknife, a switchblade, a box cutter, a set of handcuffs with keys included, a few books, a couple of small framed photographs, a first aid kit, a large black bottle of peroxide, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a box of matches, a lighter, the rogue gallery of photographs of Brutus's kills, and oddly enough, a couple strings of firecrackers, smoke flares, and a few bottle rockets.
"No pills," Face concluded when they had searched through everything she possessed.
Hannibal had even gone to the point of removing the lids from the peroxide and alcohol and anything in the first aid kit and sniffing it to make sure it matched. "And I'm guessing no poison either," he added, "So maybe we lucked out."
"You really think this kid is going to kill herself when this is over?" Face asked.
"She certainly seems to be hinting at it, Face," Hannibal told him, "The world needs us to survive but not her, not once her mission is over. If it's not implying suicide, what is it? You heard her talk, she's convinced already that she's damned and there's no hope for her, so what would be the point in trying to delay the inevitable anyway when the end result is all going to be the same?"
Murdock had been very quiet during all of this because now, what occurred last night was starting to make sense. He hadn't been able to get Jean to tell him what was wrong last night, but he hadn't pushed the issue either; he had realized the screaming that had woken him up was her coming out of her own nightmare, and at the time he guessed that it had to do with the murder of the other Jean Rhodes and all the other recruits she had witnessed. He'd managed to get her calmed down and though she wouldn't say anything to him, he tried to be reassuring as he told her that it was just a dream, it was over, everything was going to be alright. At any other time he might've tried to make her laugh and take her mind off what was going on; but he could appreciate the gravity of the situation and knew now was hardly the time for that.
He had walked her back out to the bedroom and got her in bed when it hit him that staying with her for the night would probably be a good idea. He certainly didn't mind, he liked having somebody to sleep with; for some reason the doctors at the V.A. never approved of the idea of him having a roommate, so it could get pretty lonely at night when he knew nobody would be coming to bust him out. And when he did get out, anytime they had to stop off somewhere for the night he tried to take advantage of being able to bunk with Face; it was always more fun having somebody staying with him for the night, though several times B.A. about crashed through the wall to shut them up so he could sleep.
Jean hadn't seemed to mind either, in fact, as soon as Murdock had laid down in the bed, she practically crawled on top of him and wouldn't let go of him. He hadn't thought anything of that either; being alone for six months with no one to trust or help in Vietnam would've been bad enough, that was a war zone, disappearing into the brush was a way of life, a method of survival, but in the middle of civilization! It was just unthinkable, and yet somehow this kid had done it, also in the name of survival, also in the name of justice, but was it worth it? That was the question that kept bothering him. Unfortunately he couldn't come up with any good answers.
But now he thought he knew the real reason why she had latched onto him in the night; if she could feel him, if she could hear him breathing, then that was real, and he was real and he was alive and if even one of the A-Team was alive, then that broke the dream. He remembered now that she had turned her head so her ear was directly on his chest, listening to his heart, proving that he was alive; when it had happened he was reminded of how it was supposed to be a method for soothing young children and puppies to sleep, the comforting sound of a mother's heartbeat, and if a mother wasn't available some people substituted with the steady beat of an alarm clock. He'd tried that with Billy when he first got the dog, it didn't seem to do any good; Billy didn't like the alarm clock, he also preferred the sound of a real heart thumping in its chest, his heart in his chest. Was it him? He thought that he had known or at least had some clue last night as to what the problem was, and before they fell asleep he'd put his arm around her and whispered that everything would be alright, but now he realized that he didn't have a single clue at the time what was going on.
Damnedest thing he could think of; this was their life, their job, they took on dangerous missions all the time to help people, and she was more concerned with their survival than her own. Maybe he was wrong, maybe she would've done well in the army, if she could've gotten along with the others.