Hannibal had one hand pressed against the telephone stand, where he hadn't moved since hanging up with Murdock. Face and B.A. had been there when he took the call, and after Hannibal hung up he had informed them both of what had happened.
"What do you think, Hannibal?" Face asked.
Hannibal shifted his weight and pressed his hand back against the wall behind him and leaned back against it. He let out a long exasperated sigh and looked up to the ceiling for a minute.
"There's something Murdock wasn't telling us…he sounded like something horrible had happened, but if it did he wasn't saying."
"What do you mean, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.
Hannibal bit one side of his bottom lip and he told them, "Something he wasn't telling us…but was trying to. Might even be something about the house itself." He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the skin between them as if he had a migraine, "Face."
Uh-oh, he knew that tone. "Yeah, Hannibal?"
"When we were in that house earlier, did you happen to see any pictures of Masterson's wife…or any belongings that might be hers?"
Face thought back and said, "I don't know…we weren't really looking for anything like that."
"What you thinking, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.
Hannibal pinched the fleshy part of the bridge of his nose again and said, "Murdock said that the knife that's likely our murder weapon was kept in the silverware drawer…not exactly a trophy, it wasn't separated from the other utensils, it wasn't packed away, it wasn't stored in a container to preserve it…just mixed in perfectly with everything else in the drawer."
Face felt his stomach turn and a stabbing sensation in his back, "Like he's been using all his sharp utensils on other victims?"
"Exactly," Hannibal said.
Face's eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he nodded and processed what this meant.
"And his wife?" Face asked.
"I think we better find out where she is," Hannibal told them, "If she's still around, maybe she can answer some of our questions."
Murdock felt his cheek had gone numb while he was asleep and woke up and realized the reason why was he had fallen asleep using his ball for a pillow. He noticed the position of the sun had changed behind the clouds and he knew they'd been gone longer than they should've. He knew that when they got back to the house, Hannibal was going to have it in for him; well, he was willing to take responsibility for what he'd done. As he told Frankie before, there really wasn't a whole lot Hannibal could do with him. He could chew Murdock out, he could use his authority and rank to bust him down to a gnat, he could make Murdock run one of his own trademark Hannibal Smith torture chamber obstacle courses until he puked, but he could not, would not, could never cut Murdock from the Team, that much he knew. No matter what happened today, tomorrow, or anywhere in the immediate future, the day would come they would need to fly again and they couldn't find another pilot with the experience and skills and knowhow that he possessed. Every one of them had an obvious purpose they served that secured their place on the Team, this was his own personal safety net. Not that Murdock actually believed Hannibal would ever discharge him from the Team, still, it didn't hurt to consider alternative possibilities.
He got Frankie and Mad Dog up and they got everything put back in the car and drove out of there and headed back for the house.
"What're we going to do, Murdock?" Frankie asked.
He looked at her in the rear view mirror and noted the look on her face. It was the same look he'd seen when he had to airlift wounded soldiers to a hospital unit back in Vietnam; an attending medic would be in the chopper when possible, and too often he'd seen that look that told him they weren't going to make it. And right now he was starting to feel like he was back in that chopper trying to buy them those few precious minutes that make all the difference.
He sucked in a sharp breath of air and said, "First thing we've got to do is get cleared with Hannibal, I'll take care of that. Next thing we have to do is find a way we can get surveillance on the house, know when Masterson's going to be there and when he's going to be alone, and when we know for fact he is, then we're going to attack." His head started bobbing from side to side and he laughed like the mad doctor's assistant in a bad horror movie and said as he rubbed his hands together sinisterly, "Mercy will not be shown."
"Good," Frankie replied.
"Well," Face said as he hung up the phone and addressed the colonel and sergeant, "I just got off the phone with the people at the newspaper in Cranston, there are no reports in any of their records about Mrs. Masterson dying or disappearing."
"That don't mean anything," B.A. told them.
"Well I think we lucked out," Face continued, "Apparently the woman I talked to knows her, or did, she said that Mrs. Jodie Masterson has been abroad for the last few months."
"Where?" Hannibal asked.
"Australia," Face answered.
"Damn," Hannibal hissed.
"Apparently it had always been a lifelong dream of hers to go there and…now she's gone," Face said.
"Are they sure about that?" B.A. asked.
"Well the lady said she got a letter from her a couple weeks ago," Face said, "Masterson may be smart but I doubt he could fake all the postage it would take to get a letter sent from Australia to Los Angeles."
"Alright," Hannibal folded his arms tightly against his chest, "So maybe she's alive."
"And she knows what her husband's doing?" Face asked.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Hannibal said, "Too bad she's not closer to being within arm's reach so we could have a few words with her."
"Hey Hannibal…" B.A. started to say.
The colonel raised a hand and replied, "I know, B.A., we're not flying, we don't have the time for a trip like that anyway."
"So we're back to square one," Face said.
"Maybe not," Hannibal told him, "Were you able to find out what she's like? What she does?"
"No," Face shook his head.
"My gut's telling me either she took this trip to put as much distance between she and her husband as is possible…or he put her on the plane for Australia to get her out of the way, and paid for all the expenses to make sure she stays gone for a while," Hannibal said.
"This sucker' making me sick, Hannibal," B.A. said.
Hannibal looked back to the sergeant and remarked, "I know, B.A., he's nauseating all of us."
"You really think she knows?" Face asked in disbelief.
"Uh-huh," Hannibal nodded sharply, "She knows and either ran away from him or agreed to disappear and give him room to work, either way she makes me sick. At any time she could've dropped a dime to the cops about what was going on and saved everybody a lot of trouble, but she didn't, that makes her just as guilty of what's happened as he is, and she knows it."
They heard the corvette pull up outside, Face looked to the front window and said, "Well here they are, Dingbat and the Creeps. You want us to leave you guys alone for a while, Hannibal?"
"That won't be necessary," he replied.
Hannibal went over to the front door and waited for them to come in. The knob turned, the bolt retracted, and the next thing Hannibal knew, his nose was busted when the door was kicked in and knocked against him. The first thing he saw was Frankie who kicked her foot back behind her like a mule and kicked the door shut just as efficiently.
"You got something to say you say it to me," she told him, "You got anything to say to me?"
Hannibal groaned as he felt his nose with his gloved hand and made sure everything on his face still moved like it was supposed to. "Oof, what the hell did you do that for?" he asked her.
"I wanted to make sure I had your attention," Frankie told him, "So I'm going to say again, if you've got a problem with the way things have been going around here, you take it up with me, you got that?"
Hannibal let go of his nose and stared her down, and just smirked and chuckled under his breath and commented, "I like this kid, she's got personality."
"Hannibal, have you lost your mind?" Face asked.
"He lets that crazy fool fly us, what do you think?" B.A. asked.
"Murdock," Hannibal said as he saw the pilot and Mad Dog coming in the front door, ignoring the other two, "Why don't you take M.D. and Frankie in the kitchen and the three of you can get started on dinner for everybody?"
Murdock nodded in agreement and lightly shoved the other two along with him.
"Hannibal, what was that about?" Face asked.
Hannibal rubbed his nose and explained, "She's looking for a fight, she's not going to get one. We may have found the murder weapon from them going to that house, but it was probably the worst thing they could've done, she's out for blood now and she's not thinking clearly, and Mad Dog's not going to be too far behind her."
"So what do we do with her?" Face asked.
"Nothing, right now there's nothing we can do that'll do any good with her, she needs to get it out now, in the meantime, no matter what she does nobody pick a fight with anybody else, that'll just egg them on, and I don't think I need to remind anybody that the last thing we need right now is to be fighting each other, got it?"
"Yes Hannibal," they both answered.
"Frankie, what did you do that for?" Mad Dog asked once they were alone in the kitchen.
Frankie squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, "Ohhhhh I didn't mean to do it. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Don't worry about it, we're used to that," Murdock told her, "He knows you didn't mean it."
"All the same he seems to be getting battered and bruised pretty well these days," Frankie replied.
"He's used to that too," Murdock added, "You really haven't seen anything until you've seen a combat soldier having nightmares."
"Yeah well, he may be used to it but I'm not," Frankie said, "If we don't get Masterson soon I think I'm going to go out of my mind, whatever's left of it."
Murdock saw Frankie and saw the dead, faraway look in her eyes, not seeing any of them or this house, seeing past it all back to that house of evil, and the devil man responsible for it all. Murdock knew better than to be thinking what he was right now, but the only thing currently going through the pilot's mind was he wondered just what exactly Frankie would do to Masterson if she were given the chance. But, regardless of his own curiosity, Murdock knew that realistically there was no way that Frankie was going to be allowed within two feet of this guy when they caught him. Personally he'd be content with hanging the son of a bitch on a meat hook and letting Frankie beat him like a punching bag, but that would have to wait until a later time when they knew they had him.
It turned out that they all seemed to be somewhere on the same page. Hannibal came into the kitchen and informed Murdock that they were going to stake out Masterson's house and wait for him to come home, then they were going to plant a tracking device on his car so they'd know when and where he was at all times. It sounded like a good idea to Murdock, there was just the question of who was going to go out to the house to do it. Hannibal decided it would be a good idea if they all went; there was always the chance that they might get caught, and while so far it seemed that Masterson only derived pleasure from physically attacking women and young girls, there was no guarantee he didn't have it in him to try killing one of them as well. And if that should happen, the others would be there to ambush him. It was evident to Murdock that this guy was really working Hannibal's nerves because it was almost impossible to get a trace on him, finding any information about him had been about as hard as the obstacles they put new clients through in hiring them.
After dinner they piled into the van and went back to Cranston. By now it had gotten dark and it was unlikely anybody would be able to spot them. They parked the van half a block from the house and waited. 20 minutes later they saw a car coming slowly up the road and pull into the driveway; they stayed where they were and waited to make sure that Masterson was staying in for the night. As it turned out, he wasn't, three minutes after he went in, he came back out, got back in his car, backed out of the driveway and went back down the road.
"Let's follow him and see where he goes," Hannibal told B.A.
They did, and followed the car, which Face identified as a black Park Avenue Buick, to a restaurant downtown. They saw Masterson get out of the car and head on in, and Hannibal suggested they do the same and see about getting a table close-by because he was sure Masterson would be striking up a heated conversation with somebody else. As they went in single file, Murdock took his cap off and tucked it in his jacket and tried smoothing his hair back to look presentable since the restaurant did seem to cater to the fancier breeds of people.
Hannibal spotted Masterson at a table further to the back and he found them a table a couple spaces over. It gave him a good view of Masterson and another man he had come to speak to, and he was able to pick up part of their conversation.
"May we see some menus, please?" Murdock asked a waiter.
"Murdock, we already ate," Face reminded him.
"Alright, may I see a menu, please?" Murdock tried again.
"Murdock, how can you still be hungry?" Face asked.
"He's gotta eat, there ain't nothing to him," Frankie pointed out, "Just a bag of bones in a leather jacket."
"Ha ha ha," Murdock replied sarcastically, "Besides, it isn't all for me, I want to get a doggie bag to take home to Billy."
"Ain't no dog, Murdock," B.A. told him, "So it can't eat anything either."
"Murdock, I really don't think they do doggie bags in a place like this," Face tried a different approach.
Hannibal ignored their bantering and kept his ear strained to pick up the discussion between Masterson and his guest.
"What do you mean she's gone?" Masterson asked.
"Look, I don't know what happened, but she just came up missing one morning," the other man told him, "We went over every inch of the hospital, we couldn't find any way she could've escaped."
"Well nobody came in and took her out," Masterson replied, "She had to have gotten out on her own."
"Well she can't have gotten far, where would she go?" the other man asked.
Masterson chewed on that thought for a minute and said, "She's got to be somewhere nearby."
"Maybe she went back to her parents' home," the second man suggested.
"If that had happened, I'd know it, in any case I called them a few days ago, they thought she was still in Freemont," Masterson remarked, "So they clearly haven't heard from her, if they had they would've called me. We've always been very good friends."
Hannibal rolled one eye, Murdock's amateur diagnosis of 'sociopath', yes, Hannibal would believe that very easily right about now. This guy played everybody he came across like a deck of cards. Hannibal rolled his neck to match his eye, if he had to listen to this hogwash for much longer, he thought he was going to be sick.
And now he was sick.
Hannibal stiffened in his chair, his back straight and rigid against the chair's back, his foot moved forward under the table and found a rubber sneaker toe and pressed down on it like a buzzer.
"Yes, Colonel?" Murdock asked as he leaned over across the table.
Hannibal also leaned forward and quietly murmured to Murdock through gritted teeth and barely open lips, "Murdock, get Frankie and Mad Dog, and very slowly, get them out of here."
"What's wrong?" Murdock asked, and by now everybody else was wondering the same thing.
"Just do it," Hannibal quietly told him, in a tone they all knew better than to argue with.
Murdock pushed back his chair and said, "Alright guys, you heard the man, let's go." The three of them got up and he took their hands in his and walked them towards the exit, but then he saw what Hannibal had seen and he jerked around and led them over towards the kitchen.
"Alright guys, get up," Hannibal told Face and B.A., "I just saw an MP, Decker's tracked us down again."
"Aw man, I'm getting tired of this," B.A. said.
They all moved towards the kitchen to get out the back way, B.A. had just disappeared from the main dining room when Hannibal and Face heard somebody, not Decker, say, "Alright everybody, stay right where you are, United States Army, we're looking for three escaped fugitives who…"
The guy sounded young, Hannibal felt an increase of confidence, most likely some young rookie new on the job, as long as Decker wasn't in their main sight right now, that did them a favor. He was close to the champagne cart and he picked up a bucket full of ice and spun around and tossed it at the MP closest to them. The MPs were taken aback for a split second by the surprise assault. Face also picked up a couple bottles of champagne by their necks and tossed them like a couple of juggling clubs; one hit an MP in the head and the other smashed on the floor, puncturing the feet of whoever stepped in the mess of bubbly water and glass shards. It gave them enough of a head start to make a break for the kitchen.
Everybody rushed out the back way and into the alley behind the restaurant, unfortunately they couldn't reach B.A.'s van because it was around front where the MPs were so the chase had to be on foot. It was like running an obstacle course, fortunately that was something the A-Team was most familiar with, they avoided tripping over knocked over trashcans or drunken bums laying in the street, and also managed to avoid the potshots being taken at them by the parade of army men behind them. Unfortunately they needed another distraction to buy them enough time to make their escape, and then, Hannibal saw it.
Up ahead he could see a large galvanized trash barrel some of the local bums were using as a fire pit; he kicked the barrel over and sent it rolling towards the MPs, that seemed to do the trick, one of them anyway. As they turned a corner he saw an abandoned warehouse that looked promising, they ran around to the side of the building and he picked up one of the trash cans from a pile of garbage that looked like it could rival the Matterhorn, smashed one of the large windows and had everybody climb in and get out of sight. Working by little more than the flame of his lighter, Hannibal had everybody follow him as he tried to figure out the shortest distance between two points. He found a side entrance door on the other side and had B.A. work his own magic touch on it.
The building probably hadn't been used in five years and the doors weren't anymore eager to come out of retirement, but he got them open and they stepped out and saw that while the building wasn't being used, the alley beside it was. There was a ten wheel truck parked there for the night, and it gave Hannibal an idea. He had B.A. climb into the cab and hotwire it, then put it in gear, released the brakes, get it in motion, and then jumped out as it started going down the street at 35 miles an hour. It made a smooth trip a few blocks down, and then crashed into a couple of large dumpsters and made a big mess. As planned, the MPs picked up the sound of the ruckus and followed it, thinking they were hot on the A-Team's tail, and since they left the door open, the MPs would think they bailed out and took off on foot again.
Hannibal laughed, pleased at his work as the MP cars raced by, but it was short lived when he heard Face screaming.
"What's wrong, Face?" Hannibal asked as he turned back to the lieutenant still in the building, "Is everybody alright?"
Face came out the door, his face pale and his eyes wide and he looked like he was going to be sick, "No…"
Hannibal and B.A. looked back in the building and realized that they seemed to be missing some people.
"Isn't everybody here?" Hannibal asked suspiciously, already feeling the knot his stomach was turning into.
Face shook his head grimly and said, "No, they're not."
Decker grumbled vulgarities to himself as he kept an icepack on his jaw, ranting and raving but never getting any intelligible words out, about concussions and doctor's orders, and the damn A-Team, getting away again. He stomped around his office kicking filing cabinet doors shut and closing folders on his desk when somebody knocked on his door.
"Come in," he said.
Captain Crane entered and said, "Colonel Decker, sir."
"What is it, Crane?" Decker asked.
"Uh…some of the MPs went out earlier on their own volition and tried chasing down some possible leads about the A-Team," Crane started to explain.
"What?" Decker looked ready to hit the ceiling, "Those incompetent…"
"They did find the A-Team, sir," Crane told him.
Decker's black and blue jaw dropped, "What?"
"Unfortunately they got away, but they were traveling with a few companions and the MPs managed to catch one of them before they escaped," Crane explained.
"Who is it?" Decker asked.
"I don't know, they said the name is a Franklin Murdock."
"Murdock?" Decker repeated, his eyebrows raising as he took this in, "Murdock, eh? Well," he chuckled self assuredly, "I do believe we've cracked the mystery of the A-Team's unknown pilot. Have the MPs bring him in."
Crane opened his mouth and got out, "Hi—" but closed his mouth just as he started to get the 'm' out to finish the word. He looked at the colonel with a vexed expression on his face but he nodded and said, "Right away, Colonel."
Decker sat down at his desk and smiled over his aching jaw, well well well, the A-Team was good, but he was better. Now that they'd caught H.M. Murdock, things should get very interesting from here on out, he thought.
Crane reappeared in the doorway and was talking to the MPs. "In here," he said as he held the door open.
The self confident smirk disappeared from Decker's face as he saw the MPs bring in a young woman with red hair, with the center of her bottom lip split and a small bruise on one cheek, dressed in blue jeans, a T-shirt, sneakers, and had her hands cuffed together in front of her. She looked at the colonel with a blank face, if Decker was able to read anything on that expression, it would most likely be boredom, but trying to read her was at this moment like trying to read a brick wall.
"Crane, is this supposed to be some kind of joke?" Decker demanded to know.
"Sorry, sir," Crane replied and explained, "This woman and a couple of other people were seen with the A-Team at the time of their escape. The others got away but they caught her when she tripped in the street. When they caught her, she identified herself as Franklin Murdock, we can't find any ID on her."
"Get her prints?" Decker asked.
"Not yet, sir."
"Well get them and let's find out who the hell she really is," Decker said as he got up from his desk, "And then bring her back here, I want to question her personally."
"Yes sir," Crane nodded.
"If she is in any way connected to the A-Team, we should be able to find out before too long," Decker told him, the ominous tone saying what he wasn't saying, that he had the fullest confidence in their interrogation methods. The woman apparently caught onto the subtle threat and turned her head to look back at him, but the MP pushed her forward and forced her to watch where she was going. Decker watched them disappear down the hall, right now feeling like he was on a roller coaster. First the MPs had found the A-Team, then they got away, then they said they had Murdock, only it wasn't the right Murdock, all the same, something just told Decker that it wouldn't be a total loss, and the same smirk found its way back to his black and blue face.