Chapter Two - Lost in Space Invaders

Hannibal never could say what pulled him away from sleep at four thirty-five in the morning. Blinking the last remnants of slumber from his eyes, he took a moment to catalog the various ambient noises. Everything seemed to be in order. Having learned to trust his instincts from early on in his military career, however, the colonel decided to do a quick visual survey of the team's current safe house.

It never hurt to be extra cautious, especially when the safety and freedom of his men were at stake.

Bosco's door was firmly locked from the inside. The burly corporal had been bolting his bedroom door ever since their third week on the run when he'd been awakened by the smell of popcorn. Murdock had been sitting at the end of the bed, munching on the salty treat and staring at the black man. More than a little creeped out, B.A. had demanded to know what the crazy fool had been doing. The pilot had smiled and said that he'd gotten addicted to watching reality television, and "Bosco, B.A." was his current obsession.

If that weren't enough of a shock, James had gone on to ask Bosco if he would mind cutting to the commercials so he could take a bathroom break without missing any of the program. Much to Murdock's dismay, his new favorite show suffered an early cancellation.

It had taken Face an hour to finally locate the bound and gagged pilot, who'd been "mysteriously" secured to a limb in a massive tree behind the property.

B.A.'s snores could be heard from behind the wooden barrier, so he moved on to his youngest charge. Face was tangled in the bedding. Chuckling silently, John took a moment to free the brash lieutenant. He rolled his eyes when he noticed the young man had once again gone to bed in nothing but his birthday suit.

Seriously - how many times would it take for Face to leap into a speeding vehicle, butt-naked, after an MP early morning wake-up call to realize that a nice pair of sleep pants would save him and his team a load of embarrassment? It's a miracle there hasn't yet been a YouTube video featuring the conman's lily-white ass, mooning the viewers as he sprinted down a random residential neighborhood as B.A. peeled out of the driveway.

Templeton mumbled in his sleep, bringing the colonel from his thoughts. With a fond smile, he briefly brushed the blonde curls back and left.

Murdock's room was filled with various and assorted peculiar things which reflected their owner. Fast food toys covered the entire surface of the desk, arranged by color. A hand-made mobile of paper airplanes hung inside the open closet, while the man's clothes lay haphazardly across any available surface not covered in comic books and aviation manuals. It often amazed him how different James was from his best friend. Where Templeton Peck preferred elegance and order, Murdock thrived in simplicity and chaos.

He still hasn't figured out why the man kept his pistol in his left shoe at night. Hannibal had once asked Murdock to explain his logic, but the colonel had never been good at understanding interpretive dance moves.

The only thing missing in the room of oddities was Murdock, himself. This wasn't unusual, as the pilot often suffered from insomnia, but Hannibal wouldn't be able to get any rest until he was able to lay hands on his unruly "problem child". Sounds of artificial gunfire pulled him into the living room. Though no lights were on, the glare from the television provided enough illumination to see his missing man.

Dark circles lining glassy eyes were his first indication that things were not as they should be. Seemingly ignorant of his presence, Murdock continued to blast digital bad guys as he fought his way through whatever he was playing. Hannibal sighed. He'd asked Face to hide the gaming system as soon as its presence was discovered in the house, and he wished now that he had made it an order.

It appeared that whenever Murdock got his hands on any kind of video game he was incapable of putting it down. He'd once found "Super Collapse II" on Face's laptop and had to be physically restrained by B.A. while the lieutenant uninstalled it. A day and a half of continuous gameplay had screwed with Murdock's mind so much that, for days, every time he closed his eyes to sleep he could see the game screen etched behind his eyelids and became frantic because he couldn't find the mouse.

A week straight of being awakened by Murdock screaming, "It's almost to the top! I need a blue bomb," had caused Face to delete even the standard solitaire games on his computer.

As soon as Hannibal saw the Xbox lying innocuously beside the television, Hannibal had asked the lieutenant to put it away in a closet before Murdock saw it, but Face insisted that the pilot had already been through and hadn't even given the gaming system a second glance. He'd said that if James was going to freak out, he'd have shown an indication of it already.

He was wrong.

"Murdock, how long have you been up?"

Without pausing once in his frantic clicking, the crazy man replied, "I haven't been to bed yet, boss. I just need to get through the aliens before they blow up the Earth."

That was another reason Hannibal hated for Murdock to become obsessed with these games; He was never sure how much of the storyline the pilot believed. Knowing James like he did, he'd be willing to bet he'd convinced himself that everything was real.

Briefly praying for strength, Colonel Smith ordered Murdock to turn the system off and retire for what little remained of the night.

Confirming his earlier fears, H.M. shook his head in insubordination. This was the first time the pilot had ever disobeyed a direct order from Hannibal Smith. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but I have to hold these guys off until the explosives I set up have a chance to go off. This'll start the chain reaction, which will decimate their entire networking system. It's the only way to save the planet!"

John reached over and turned off the system, causing the pilot to start screeching in panic and disbelief. As the pilot pounced on the gaming device with the obvious intent to turn it back on and see if the situation could be salvaged, the colonel grabbed his pilot underneath his arms and picked him up bodily.

"No, you don't understand, Colonel! They'll kill us!" The frantic kicking and screaming brought the other two men running into the room, weapons out.

"The president doesn't understand the full scope of the invasion!" A flailing fist hit the colonel's jaw unintentionally, causing the older man to grunt in surprise. "The world's joint military forces aren't strong enough… they needed a man on the inside with my expertise! They screened thousands of people before they found me and begged me for my help… I promised them, Hannibal!"

As Hannibal passed Templeton with the hysterical pilot still tucked under one arm, he glared at the conman. "Get rid of it." He started toward Murdock's room but paused for a second, and turned back to face the conman. "And put on some goddamned pants!"

"If you don't let me go we're gonna die! We're all gonna die!"

The Xbox was never seen by the team again, and neither were Face's balls.