As soon as Murdock opened the door and stepped out, the first thing he saw was Face running up to him.
"Murdock!" Face practically jumped on him and threw his arms around Murdock's neck, desperate to know that this was real, that he was real, that he was alive.
Murdock didn't think much of Face's reaction to seeing him, though he did comment, "Hey, this is kind of backwards, ain't it?" Usually he was the one bursting with excitement to see the others.
As soon as Face let go of him, the next thing Murdock saw was B.A. coming over to them.
"You crazy fool!" B.A. told him a second before Murdock felt the large ham hock arms wind around his neck and choke him, then realized that he was being lifted off the ground in a crushing bear hug, his windpipe being the crushed part. When B.A. put him down, Murdock coughed and felt his throat and said, "B.A., would you mind being a little less happy to see me?"
"What's the idea of scaring us, fool?" B.A. demanded to know.
"What're you talking about?"
"We thought you were dead!" Face said.
"What?" Murdock couldn't believe what he'd heard.
"We thought you were killed in the fire!" Face told him.
Murdock was dumbstruck for a minute, then it started to make sense, and he couldn't hide the shocked look on his face. "Aw Facey, you ought to know it'll take more than a raging inferno to end the saga of Howling Mad Murdock."
But now the whole situation was starting to make sense, and Murdock explained to them everything that had happened on his own side since they got out of the diner.
"Where's Jean now?" Hannibal asked when he was finished.
"Inside, she's not feeling too well, Colonel," Murdock explained.
"Well what's wrong with her?" Face asked.
Murdock counted them off on his fingers, "Fever, migraines, she's been coughing up stuff from the smoke, her whole body's been rattling around on the bed like the needle on the Richter scale. I don't know what's wrong with her but I think it's a safe bet she would not do well recovering in a military prison."
"Alright, we'll come in and take a look for ourselves," Hannibal told him.
One by one they entered the motel room and saw Jean lying on the bed, her eyes closed and she was half mumbling something to herself. Face went over to the bed first and hovered over her and lightly put his hand on her shoulder, "Jean? Can you hear me?"
Jean moved and slowly opened her eyes and looked up, and a weak smile formed on her face.
"Oh boy am I glad to see you," she quietly said as she half turned on her side and reached her arms out to hug him around his waist, but Face stepped back when he realized her aim was a little low. She lay on her side and fell back asleep.
Hannibal took off his glove and felt Jean's forehead. "Fever's low, that's good," he knelt down beside her and asked her, "How're you feeling, kid?"
Jean murmured and opened her eyes and said weakly, "Not so good, colonel."
Uh-oh. It was one thing that she addressed them formally but to start using titles, that had to mean something was wrong.
"Alright let's get her moved out," Hannibal told the others, "B.A…"
B.A. went over to the bed and scooped Jean up in his arms; she murmured something in response to being moved but it was nothing coherent.
"Come on, mama," he said as he carried her to the door, "We' busting out of this place."
That left Hannibal, Face and Murdock in the room, staring at each other. Finally it was Murdock that broke the silence saying, "I'm sorry, Colonel, I didn't know you guys were worried about us."
"Well…" Hannibal said, "It was a bad situation and I don't know if we had it to do over again that any of us would've done anything differently. The important thing is that you two are alright and now we can get out of here."
"Oh by the way, Colonel," Murdock added, "I saw what you did to those terrorists on the TV this afternoon, fantastic job!"
"Thanks, Murdock," Hannibal replied, leaving out the explanation for why they did it; though he and Face knew that that was why if they'd had it to do over again, they wouldn't try for something different. For two days they had been put through hell, but because of it, a massive terrorist plot to slaughter countless innocent lives had been foiled before any damage could be done.
Hannibal was the next one to step outside, leaving only Murdock and Face in the room. Face looked around the place and while it wasn't anything that could compare to the places he'd usually gotten them over the years, he couldn't resist saying, "You're making me look bad, Murdock, keep this up and you'll get me drummed out of the team."
Murdock put on his jacket and cap and pocketed the medicines on the nightstand and remarked, "Aw come on Face, you know that could never happen, you're still the only guy who could ever get hold of a '53 Cadillac convertible in the jungles of 'Nam." Murdock eyed him suspiciously and started poking Face on the shoulder as he asked him, "Which incidentally how did you manage to get it?"
"I'm not telling," Face laughed.
"I'll keep poking you till you do," Murdock told him, poking him along his collarbone.
"Murdock, you can poke me until I'm black and blue," Face said as he put his hands on his sides, "I'll never tell."
"I'll get it out of you one of these days," Murdock told him, "Never underestimate the persistence of a madman."
Face looked around the room and said, "Alright, Murdock, you got everything?"
"Sure I got everything, all I brought is what I got on," he answered.
"Alright then, let's get out of here," Face suggested.
They ran out of the motel room and joined the others in the van and a minute later they tore out of there and hit the road. Hannibal was in the front with B.A., and Murdock and Face were behind them and Jean had been laid out behind the seats wrapped in a sheet with a pillow under her head.
"We want to get out of here as soon as possible but I don't think we'll chance driving long tonight," Hannibal told B.A., and pointed his thumb to the back, "Until we have a better idea of how sick she is I think we just need to find another place to pullover for the night."
"Did she say anything?" Murdock asked as he reached behind and put his hand on her forehead.
"Something but she didn't open her mouth to let us know what it is," Hannibal told him, "How long's she been like this?"
"Got sick last night," Murdock answered, "After she got that black crud up I thought she'd get better."
"Well," Hannibal said as he reached into his pocket and took out a cigar, "After six months of practically living outside, in burned out homes with no windows, I guess it was only a matter of time before she caught something."
Hannibal turned around in his seat to see Murdock when the pilot leaned forward and snatched Hannibal's cigar away at the last second. It was obvious that the captain wasn't comfortable with contradicting their leader in any way, but he looked very somber as he asked, "Do you mind, Colonel?"
Hannibal's demeanor didn't change, he only turned back in his seat and said cynically, "Cigars don't make people sick."
"Oh yeah?" Face asked, "When was the last time you were on the opposite side of one?"
A few miles down the road they found another motel to check in for the night; B.A. carried Jean into the room while Face got them checked in and Hannibal played the part of attending physician. Through the exam, Jean never woke up and just barely moaned and moved her head from one side to the other on the pillow. Hannibal took out the bag of medical supplies Face had managed to swipe from a hospital the last time they had to make an emergency run-through because B.A. injured his foot; figuring that sooner or later they would come in handy on the road. The thermometer read 100 degrees even, her blood pressure was fine, her pulse was a little fast, then Hannibal reached into the bag for the stethoscope but didn't find it. He turned around and saw why, Murdock had put it on and was singing 'Fly me to the Moon' into the bell and snapping his fingers on his free hand.
"Hey Murdock, let me see that thing," B.A. said.
"Sure thing, B.A.," Murdock handed the bell over to B.A, who raised it to his lips and said directly into it, "NOW HEAR THIS, FOOL!"
Murdock screamed and yelled and his whole body shook as he took the earpieces out. "What're you trying to do, bust my eardrums?"
"No, but if you don't quit fooling around I'm going beat your skull like a bongo drum," B.A. told him.
"Do you two mind?" Hannibal asked.
B.A. snatched the stethoscope away from Murdock and handed it over to the colonel, "Here you go, Hannibal." Then he turned back to Murdock and growled under his breath, "Fly me to the moon," and shook his head.
"Thank you," Hannibal adjusted the earpieces and warmed the diaphragm in his hands before placing it on Jean's chest and listened. Then he turned her over and put it to her back.
"Well?" Murdock asked.
"Her heart's a little fast, her lungs sound okay, I'm guessing intestines are supposed to sound like this…overall I don't hear anything alarming, we'll let her rest tonight and see if she's any better tomorrow."
"We may be here longer than that," Face said as he came in, "The guy at the desk had the TV turned on for the weather, they're predicting severe weather here for the next few days, possibly tornadoes."
"We're nearing Chicago alright," B.A. said.
"Well," Hannibal told the others, "Maybe Mother Nature's trying to send us a sign, if the weather gets bad enough that they can't let people through, then that means Grant's not going to be getting ahead of us either. For now we'll just have to wait and see."
After Hannibal and B.A. had gone to their own room for the night, Face started to get ready for bed and he noticed Murdock went over to Jean's bed and tried to wake her up.
"Murdock, what're you doing?" he asked.
But Murdock ignored him and kept shaking Jean until she finally started to come around and asked, "What is it?"
"It's time for your medicine," he told her as he reached into his pocket and took out a small bottle of whiskey.
"Oh Murdock, not again," she groaned as she laid back down, "All I've done for two days is drink so much wine, and whiskey…"
"Well at least we know you're not a vampire," Face cynically remarked.
"I don't want anymore," Jean told him, "I…"
Murdock slipped one hand behind her head to steady it and placed the mouth of the bottle at her lips and told her, "Just one more drink," less than subtly he poured it in her mouth and made her swallow it without protest, "And then I promise you can go to sleep."
Down it went and when she was done drinking, she turned on her side and grumbled weakly, "Murdock, you're as bad as a rehab doctor."
He ignored her comment and said only as he tucked her in, "Go to sleep, and I promise you'll feel better when you wake up."
When she finally fell asleep, Murdock went over to the other bed and likewise got ready to go to sleep. But Face interrupted that plan and said to him, "Murdock, she's sick and you gave her whiskey?"
"Well yeah," Murdock said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "It's an old folk remedy for just about everything, everybody used it when I was growing up, especially the farmers. My grandparents gave it to me all the time as a kid and it always knocked the cold out of me."
"Among other things, I'll bet," Face said to himself as he moved over on the bed.
"Are you sure you didn't give her too much?" Face asked Murdock the next day. It was going into the afternoon and Jean never showed any sign of waking up.
"Of course I'm sure," Murdock replied defensively, "I may be crazy, Face, but I am not an idiot."
"I know you're not, but why isn't she waking up?" Face wanted to know, "How sick is she really?"
That, unfortunately, was what they didn't know, and nobody was ready yet to give in and take her to a doctor. The turbulent weather had come in overnight and already outside it was beating down in sheets of rain with high winds and occasional thunder and lightning. If it got much worse, they all knew that nobody would be going anywhere and considered it a lucky break because Hannibal was right, if they couldn't get in or out because of the weather, then nobody else could either. Hannibal had come over earlier in the morning and looked Jean over again and he wasn't any closer to an answer than the others about what was wrong with her; but decided for the time being they would just watch her and keep an eye out for any sign she was getting worse. If that happened, bad weather or not, then they would break down and take her to a doctor or the hospital, much as they hated to do it because it put them all at risk, her just as well as them.
For the rest of the afternoon, Murdock made himself at home on the other side of the bed and he got out Jean's Oz books and read them to her, doing all the voices and sound effects, and adding some where there weren't any. Face tried to tell him it wouldn't do any good because Jean obviously couldn't hear them, but Murdock didn't listen, and Face felt sorry that she wasn't awake for this because it was one hell of a performance. Murdock even managed to find a way to pronounce the word 'Pyrzqxgl' in The Magic of Oz; something which Face guessed people had been attempting to do and failing miserably at for 70 years.
Jean slept through the afternoon and the night and well into the next morning, and only once during all that time did it ever seem that she was trying to wake up. At 3 in the morning they heard her moaning and threw on the lights and went over to her bed to see what was the matter. Her eyes were closed but she was trying to speak, her mouth wasn't open but it sounded like she was trying to say 'Murdock' but got stuck on the M. For about a minute all they heard from her was a low close mouthed 'm-m-m-m-m' sound, until her bottom jaw dropped open the tiniest bit, and hardly moving her mouth they heard her say quietly, "How soon she's ripe, how soon she's rotten, laid in a grave and soon forgotten."
"What was that?" Face wanted to know.
But Murdock knew, "An epitaph from about 200 years ago." He saw the puzzled look on Templeton's face that just screamed 'how do you know that?' and he shrugged and said, "I read it in a book when I was in school."
"Well who do you think she's talking about?" Face asked.
Murdock didn't answer but they had a good idea as they both turned and looked at the unconscious woman. That this statement was a foreboding prediction on her part for her own outcome, consciously or subconsciously, was the only conclusion they could draw that made sense. And it made them both start to wonder just what would happen during the final showdown against the men responsible for this mess.
By the next day she still hadn't woken up and everybody was starting to get worried about what it meant, though nobody was ready to admit it yet. Since Jean was asleep she had no objection to Hannibal taking her temperature again and surprisingly it went very well without the patient being awake for it.
"99, almost back to normal now," Hannibal said.
"So what's wrong with her?" Face asked.
"I'm not sure," Hannibal replied, "She's not responsive to much of anything, we've tried talking to her, we've tried shaking her, I even tried pinching her feet, nothing."
Murdock was in one of his more optimistic moods and with a snap of his fingers he said, in a grandstanding voice, "I bet I've got it, it is just like Sleeping Beauty and she needs the kiss of a handsome prince to awaken her from her eternal slumber."
B.A. made a face that looked like he just swallowed a whole bottle of lemon juice and said, "Don't do that, fool, you'll make her lapse into a coma for sure!"
"Well I've got another idea," Murdock said as he went to the door, "I'll be back!"
"Don't tell me that!" B.A. called after him, "I've got enough bad news already!"
Jean didn't know how long she had been asleep but through it all there was an undying odor of sickness and medicine and whiskey, that all added to her misery. Then out of nowhere a new aroma worked its way up her nostrils: fried meat with ketchup and pickles and grease, a cheeseburger, she was sure of it. She could almost see it in front of her and she lifted her arms up and grabbed for it, but it was snatched away at the last second. Then, like it was taunting her, it came back, close to being within her reach, and this time she pulled her body up in the bed and grabbed for it again, and it got away again, but this time the burger was laughing at her. She opened her eyes and saw Murdock standing by the bed with a partially wrapped cheeseburger in hand.
"I thought that would get you up," he said, "You feel like eating?"
Jean rubbed her eyes and noticed the others were all up as well and she asked, "Why didn't somebody wake me up? What time is it?"
"Well it's about two in the afternoon," Hannibal told her, "Two days after you fell asleep."
Jean's eyes popped wide open, "Two days?"
"That's right, you've been pretty sick," he said, "Judging by this I'd say you needed the rest. How're you feeling now?"
"I feel…I feel," she had to think about it, "I feel alright, but I need a shower."
"I'll say," Face commented with a pinch of his nose.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to take your temperature first and make sure that your fever's gone down," Hannibal said.
"Well I do mind," she replied.
"I've done it before while you were asleep, there's nothing to it," he told her, "If you want to be stubborn, go ahead, there are other ways to skin a cat."
"I know that," Jean said, and by way of response she lifted up her arm and closed her mouth.
"Funny," Hannibal calmly responded as he took out the thermometer, "The last time I checked your temperature was at 99, the sooner you cooperate the sooner you can get cleaned up."
Jean didn't do anything for a minute, then opened her mouth wide like a baby bird during feeding and let out an exaggerated, "Ahhhhhhhhhhh."
"Don't chew on that," Hannibal told her as he stuck it into her mouth, "It is not a lollypop." After a few seconds he took it out and read the number, "98.8, another step in the right direction, now, was that so hard?"
She'd never admit if it wasn't, instead she got up from the bed and took one step, and immediately started to fall, but Murdock and Face caught her while she regained her balance. Once she did, she made a beeline into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Face picked up the phone and said, "I'm going to call the front desk and have them come in and change the sheets, after two days of that, it smells like something died in here."
Apparently something he said set off a trigger in Murdock, who for a second looked like a mutt hearing a dog whistle, then he went over to the bed and started tearing it apart, throwing the pillows and covers every which way and pulling the mattress off.
"What're you doing, you crazy fool?" B.A. asked.
"Checking for dead bodies," Murdock said as he turned around to face him, "Don't you know that there's an epidemic of corpses turning up in motel beds all across the country? You know how many times a couple stops off for the night and isn't aware they can get a group rate since they're sleeping three in a bed?"
"Hannibal," B.A. turned to the colonel, but never got to finish what he started to say.
Hannibal calmly shook his head and said, "No, B.A., you may not kill him now."
B.A. growled under his breath discontentedly.
"So now what?" Jean asked half an hour later when she emerged from the bathroom in a different set of clothes, her hair still wet and sticking up in something resembling a mohawk.
"Well it would seem you picked a good time to get sick," Hannibal told her, "Until further noticed we are hereby grounded under the orders of Mother Nature. Half the state is in tornado watches and warnings for the next three days, and nobody's going anywhere."
"No wonder they call Chicago the windy city," Jean said as she sat down on the bed beside Face, "Are you sure about that though?"
"Of course, the police have been going up and down the streets ordering everybody to take cover, they're not going to let anybody cross city limits until the weather clears up," Hannibal explained.
"So what do we do in the meantime?" Jean asked.
"It would really kill you to relax for once, wouldn't it?" Hannibal asked in response.
She laughed grimly and told him in a deadpan voice, "If I relax I'll drop dead."
"Well we got a few extra days so you might give it a try," he advised her as he headed for the door, "I'll see you guys later."
He got three different goodbyes from the occupants of the room, and he didn't have to guess who added, "And don't come back!" as he shut the door behind him.
Outside the rain continued to beat against the motel and every so often Face checked the windows to make sure there wasn't a leak anywhere, and likewise checked the ceiling because the last thing he needed was a rude awakening in the middle of the night. So far everything was bone dry, he took that as a good sign.
"You guys must be getting bored with me," Jean said as she stretched out on the bed, "Seems every time you turn around I'm in some new crisis."
"We've dealt with worse," Face told her, he turned to Jean and saw she had closed her eyes, so he pinched her. She opened her eyes and shot up with a yelp.
"You've been asleep for two days," he said, "You can't possibly still be tired."
"Well what've I got to stay up for?" she replied, "Your stimulating conversation?"
They hadn't paid attention to what Murdock was doing, which was rummaging through his bag until he found what he was looking for.
"I know something we can do," he said as he went over to their bed with the Ouija board under his arm.
Jean sat up in the bed with as much finesse as Dracula rising from his coffin. "What the hell is that thing for?"
"Oh Murdock takes it out from time to time to mess with," Face told her, then he turned and asked her, "Why? You superstitious?"
"Certainly not, but there's a difference in that and messing with things best left alone," Jean said, "Anytime anybody uses one of those things, something bad always happens as a result, directly or otherwise."
"You really believe that?" Face asked.
"Yes," she answered.
"Murdock, I think she's crazier than you," Face said as he turned to the pilot.
Murdock set the board down on the foot of the bed and grabbed the planchette with both hands and said, "I've got an idea."
"Don't tell me," Face tried to guess, "You're trying to try and contact Abraham Lincoln to see what he thought of the show before he got shot?"
"No, but that's a good idea for next time," Murdock said, "Everybody puts their fingers on the planchette…"
"Not me," Jean told him, and pointed upwards, "There might be a loose piano up there waiting to crash on my head."
"Fine, I'll do it myself," Murdock said as he placed his fingertips on the pointer and started chanting gibberish.
"What's he doing?" Jean asked.
Face shrugged and replied, "I think it's Swahili."
"Oh yeah? Well is there a translator on this thing?" Jean asked as she started poking Murdock all over his body, as he continued to spout a bunch of grunts and weird sounds without ever breaking. And then suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head and he sounded like a wild animal growling. His eyes closed and when he opened them again, he said in a voice neither of the other occupants of the room had ever heard from him, "Two shots will ring out, one will stand, one will fall, there be no rest for the wicked, nor burial for the damned." Then his eyes closed and he slumped over the board, all the while his hands never left the planchette.
"Murdock," Face reached over and put his hand on Murdock's shoulder, "Are you alright?"
Murdock slowly opened his eyes and looked like he'd been asleep. "What happened?"
Jean looked to Face and said, "I told you you don't mess with this stuff."
Face didn't believe that there was any connection to Murdock's strange performance and the Ouija board, but the general consensus in the room was the same, whatever had happened, it didn't seem like a game anymore. Jean got up from the bed and went into the bathroom and when the door closed, Face turned to Murdock and asked him, "What was that all about?"
Murdock looked surprised by what had happened and he explained, "I was trying to channel the other Jean Rhodes, to see if he had anything to say about what has happened, or what's going to."
"And that's what he said?"
Murdock nodded.
"Oh boy," Face didn't like where this was most likely going.
Jean glanced around the room curiously and noticed they were short an occupant. "Where's Peck?" she asked.
"Next door with Hannibal and B.A.," Murdock answered.
It was later in the afternoon and for the moment the weather seemed to be in the midst of calming down; outside there was only the wind to hear, the rain had ended a short while ago.
"Good, then I can talk to you," Jean said.
"What about?" Murdock asked, anticipating that whatever it was, had to do with the cryptic message they received earlier from the other side.
"I'll tell you, Murdock, I am not looking forward to going to sleep tonight," she said, "When I was sick and you said I didn't wake up for two days, I had a lot of nightmares, and you know how it is when you think if you don't wake up and end the dream, you're going to die, but you can't wake up, no matter what you do?"
He knew that feeling only too well. He had a feeling that all of them on the Team knew it; they'd all had more than their share of nightmares over the years, and the worst ones were always the ones they didn't wake up immediately from.
"What were they about?" he inquired.
"Jean Rhodes," she answered, "And the others from that night, they were all screaming at me, blaming me for what had happened to them. And then, I dreamt that I woke up in hell, not for the things I had done, not for the people I killed, but for what I didn't do, for not stopping the executions at the base. Every day for six months I've run that scene back in my mind over and over again trying to think if I missed something, if there was some sign something was wrong and I overlooked it, if there was anything I could've done. I've rattled my brain every day and I can't find anything that I missed. There's nothing, nothing that I can see, nothing that could've been done to stop the murders, can that really be held to me? I can accept damnation for the murders I've committed, but for not preventing the ones before that?"
"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Murdock tried to assure her, in one of his more serious sides he looked at her and said, "God may be Holy but He is also just, and I can't see Him damning you for what happened at the base anymore than I could see Him damning a little baby."
Jean smiled weakly and replied, "Have to admit, Murdock, there's a hell of a difference between me and a baby."
"As there was between Mary and the woman who would be stoned, did it matter?" he replied.
She smiled at him and asked, "Did you have a religious upbringing?"
He returned the smile and answered, "Only two grandparents who were hellbent on dragging me to church every single Sunday, and they never took no for an answer."
Murdock stopped when he heard something and he signaled for Jean to be quiet and he headed over to the window and pulled it open and stuck his head out. A couple feet below he saw a man standing outside the window to Hannibal's room and he was trying to listen in on what the other men were saying. Murdock stood on the windowsill and positioned himself at an angle and jumped, landed on the man's back and tackled him to the ground. With a few grunts and moans, the two rolled around on the ground wrestling until Murdock grabbed the other man by the shoulders and threw his head against the wall and knocked him out. Jean followed Murdock out the window and helped him drag the intruder over to the door and they stepped into Hannibal's room.
"What's going on?" Hannibal asked.
"We caught this guy trying to spy on you through the window, Colonel," Murdock answered. He let go of the man but Jean maintained her hold, which was on the man's hair.
The unconscious man was about 40 years old, about six feet tall, well built, his skin gave off a slight resemblance to baked chicken and he was dressed in green army fatigues and a black T-shirt and steel toed boots. Jean had a death grip on his brown hair and had it pulled so tightly that it made his head look like a peeled onion.
"He doesn't look like anybody we know," Face commented.
"We'll see about that," Hannibal went over to the man and slapped him in the face and that brought him around.
Jean let go of him and went over to the other side of the room and dug through the bags by the bed until she found what she was looking for and returned with the large wood file from B.A.'s bag, not doing anything with it yet but keeping it lowered at her side to use in a moment's notice if she saw fit. The man appeared to be dazed so Hannibal tapped him on the cheek to get his attention.
"There's a reason people invented doorbells," he said, "Now who are you and what is it that you want?"
But the man wouldn't answer Hannibal. Jean raised the metal file and grated it over the side of the man's face, drawing a pained yelp from him and she told him, "You answer his questions or I'm grating your face like a block of cheese."
The man opened his eyes and looked at Hannibal and said weakly, "I know who you are, Smith."
"Well I'm relieved to know that," Hannibal cynically told him, "I'd hate to think you do this kind of thing at random. Now for the second round, who are you working for?"
He didn't answer that either, saying only, "He's coming for you, Smith, you're going to rot in a military prison where you belong."
Jean elbowed Face and murmured to him, "So that's how Lynch has been able to keep up, he's had somebody tracking you guys."
"Well, I guess he's finally starting to get a brain," Face said, "Though obviously not too much of one or he would've done it himself. So what are we going to do with him, Hannibal?"
"Oh I've got a plan," Hannibal assured him, "Give me a hand with him."
Everybody grabbed a side and hauled the man into the bathroom, he yelled and kicked and struggled all the way, but not for long because he promptly got a shot in the arm that sent him straight to dreamland. While he was out, Face set about tying him up, while Jean went back to their room and came back with a set of handcuffs for extra security.
"So what's the plan, Colonel?" Murdock asked.
"Well I figure since he was in the process of spying on us that he hasn't alerted Lynch yet as to where we are, meaning they don't know where to come and start looking for us yet," Hannibal explained, "So we have a little time, meaning that we can put him in the van, drive out west for a couple of hours and dump him off somewhere, preferably in front of a police station with a sign around his neck."
"Oh another one of those?" Murdock asked, "Alright, I'll go make the sign, what is he this time, a drug runner or an animal smuggler?"
"Surprise me," Hannibal said.
A loud knock at the front door got everybody's attention; Face went to see what it was, he closed the bathroom door behind him and caught a glimpse out the window and saw a black and white car pulled up outside. He went back to the bathroom door, opened it a crack and called in, "It's the police, I'll try and get rid of them." He closed the door again and went over to the front door, calling out, "I'm coming!" and sucked in a breath before he opened the door to the tall, intimidating looking officer standing outside.
"Yes?" he said.
"Excuse me sir, but there have been some complaints about the noise coming from this room, the people in the next room said something about a fight and reported hearing a woman screaming."
"I see, come in," Face held the door open for the officer, and he looked to make sure there wasn't a second one behind him.
"You said something about a fight, officer?" Face asked.
"Yes, some of the other guests staying at the motel called in to report that they heard a woman screaming and several people arguing loud enough to be heard through the walls, and became concerned."
"Oh, I see," Face said, trying to think of a logical way to explain this and make the cop go away, and it hit him. They heard a woman screaming, and there was a woman in the bathroom at this very minute, they could send Jean out and that would explain that, he just needed to figure out how it all worked together. "Well, if they heard a woman's voice, that had to be my wife, but there hasn't been anything going on in here, officer, I can assure you of that."
"Where is your wife, sir?" the officer wanted to know.
"She's taking a bath," Face said, loud enough that the others could hear him but not to the point he would appear suspicious.
"Have her come out here," the cop said, "I need to speak with her."
"Yes, officer," Face went over to the bathroom door, pounded on it once and said, "Cover up, dear, there's a policeman here who wants to speak with you."
"A policeman?" they heard a woman's voice behind the door.
"Yes, dear!" Face replied, "Now put something on and come out here." He turned back to the officer and laughed nervously, "Her and her full body beauty rituals, you know for all the time she spends undressed you'd think I'd get to enjoy some of it."
The bathroom door opened and Face caught a glimpse through the corner of his eye of a bathrobe and turned to speak to Jean, and he choked on the first syllable and about had a heart attack.
Murdock had come out of the bathroom in a towel, bathrobe, and shower cap, he had the cap pulled down low so it practically covered his eyes, and he spoke in a high pitched, slightly feminine voice as he said, "Yes dear, what was that you said?"
"Uh," Face felt his mouth open and close a few times before he remembered how to speak and he told Murdock, "This officer says that the other guests called to complain about the noise, they think we were having a fight earlier."
"Well why shouldn't we fight?" Murdock asked as he folded his arms against his chest, "A girl only gets one wedding anniversary a year and you had to go and forget it!" And on that note, Murdock unfolded one arm, reached out and slapped Face in the stomach with the back of his hand.
Face had a good idea unless this situation changed very quickly they could both be hauled out to the police car, and down to the station. "Now dear," he said, "You know that we couldn't go on our second honeymoon with my sister in the hospital, I promised you I would make it up to you."
"Yes and you certainly have a funny way of doing that," Murdock said, "Load me up in a stuffy car and we drive for five days on bumpy roads so we can spend a week at a rained out resort in the middle of nowhere. I don't know why I married you!" He turned from Face to the cop and said, "Oh, but since you're out here, maybe you can do something about the Peeping Toms we've been getting around here."
"Excuse me, ma'am?" the officer asked.
Murdock nodded and pointed to the window, "Not half an hour ago, I caught a man peeking at me through that window, that's the curse of being a beautiful woman, everywhere you go strange men practically climb in through the window to take a look at you in your unmentionables."
"That must've been what people were hearing," Face said, "She caught somebody outside the window and started screaming, of course by the time I got there he was already gone. She can't ever learn to tell me first and then scream afterwards, scream first and they never wait around to get caught."
The cop looked surprised and said, "This happens often, ma'am?"
"Oh yes," Murdock said.
Face stepped in and added, "Oh sure, they come back repeatedly, they can't believe what they saw the first time."
"Oooohhhh you!" Murdock shook his fist at Face and said, "I should've listened to my mother and never married you."
"I'm sorry, dear," Face told him.
Murdock kept his back turned to Face for a few seconds before turning around and telling him, "All's forgiven, dear." And he grabbed Face and pulled him to him and kissed him in an exaggerated manner; luckily Face had his back turned to the cop or else he would've seen the eyes rolling around in his head since that was the only place he could express any sickness he was feeling at the moment. When Murdock finally let go of him, Face pulled away and gasped and said, "Well officer, I'm sorry for any trouble we've caused, but I hope you do manage to find who's been spying on my wife so we can enjoy part of our vacation."
After the officer assured them that the police department would look into the matter and left, Face closed the door behind him, locked it, turned around and spit, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth like a dog.
"Murdock, was that really necessary?" he asked.
"Well he bought it, didn't he?" Murdock asked as he shed the shower cap and bathrobe and bath towel and revealed he had rolled his pants up to his knees and pulled his arms out of his T-shirt and let it hang around his chest, "Got rid of him in a hurry."
"Yeah well next time I want a new wife," Face told him as they went back to the bathroom.
The door opened and Hannibal stepped out with a freshly lit cigar in hand and asked, "How about me, Face?"
Face groaned and turned back around and headed for the front door as Hannibal just laughed at his expense.