Jer, trust him. He's made a career out of bending the rules.
- Hannibal, "Where is the Monster When You Need Him"
Chapter 3: Warm Trust
Murdock stood at the counter, briskly rubbing his arms in an effort to warm up. He had heard about Chicago winters, but had no idea that it could be THIS cold. He thought leather jackets were supposed to keep the people who wore them warm . . . but his jacket did just the opposite. It seemed to capture the cold within its fibers, further chilling him to the bone. The building provided a some welcome heat, but he had been so frozen just from that run to the plane to the terminal that he thought he was going to turn into a popsicle!
As he waited for Face to return to the counter, he took in the décor on the inside of the terminal. Large white columns stood at various spots, sweeping upward toward the ceiling. He couldn't really call how they connected to the ceiling as flying buttresses, but in a way it almost seemed like the funnel with the large open end a bit flattened and the spout elongated.
The central area of the terminal building bore large panes of glass windows, which ran from the floor to the ceiling, ignoring the fact that there were actually two levels to the structure. As a result of all of the glass, it afforded spectacular views of the airfield and Lake Michigan to the east, and then the city itself to the west. The walls to the north and the south in the terminal were covered with a teal mosaic tile, which looked like it would have been more of a choice for a bathroom floor than the wall within a building. Along those walls were a line of black bench seats, with armrests at strategic points dividing it up to allow for several people to sit upon them as they waited for their flights to arrive or to depart.
In essence, everything on the inside seemed like a bad throwback to the 1960s art deco.
Looking around, he saw Face hang up the pay phone and start heading back to join him. The con artist, who was California born and raised, seemed to be just as relieved as he was to be within some warmth. Who he was talking to, and how he managed to get his teeth to stop chattering long enough to make his phone calls was anyone's guess.
One thing he had to admit, though . . . he had been impressed so far by the plane that Face had managed to get them for this trip, along with the contingencies to go along with it. He was right about what he said on the plane . . . trying to hack into the FAA computers in order to file the flight plan, and make it look legit, was a major challenge, but only someone of his caliber was able to pull it off as he did. He even managed to get the landing and storage fees waved here at Meigs, but the one thing he hadn't thought about was bringing winter coats.
Of course, Chicago's weather was sometimes very fickle. He had heard the weather casters in Los Angeles occasionally note temperatures in other cities when delivering the forecasts, and sometimes they'd mention the WindyCity. There were a few times when the temperature was into the 50 degree range, sometimes even around 60 degrees, with no snow at all. And other times, it was just like how it was outside when they arrived . . . absolutely freezing, with a wind chill colder than the air temperature, and more snow than the city seemed to know what to do with it. What was the saying that he heard about it . . . if you don't like it, go inside and wait fifteen minutes? Well, he doubted that'd be long enough to melt all of that snow out there and return the city to some sense of normalcy.
Just as Face returned to stand with him, the A-Team pilot noticed Hannibal and BA entering the terminal . . . bundled up in very warm winter coats. His jaw dropped as if it had turned into a solid block of ice! Face probably didn't think it was going to be this cold and forgot about bringing any coats, or he would have made sure he grabbed them before they even opened the door to the plane. So, where in the world did they come from . . . unless . . .
Hannibal . . .
Didn't he mention during the flight about driving from Detroit to Chicago for Christmas a few times? Well, if that was true, he'd know what Chicago winters were like, and Detroit was not that far away so they'd also get hit too by whatever cold and snow that the Windy City got. He must have been the one that thought about bringing winter coats.
He watched as Hannibal set down the two bags he was carrying, and unzipped one of them. He pulled out a blue winter coat and handed it to Face, and then a red one and tossed it to Murdock, emptying the bag. Face slipped his coat on and started to zip it up, while Murdock couldn't put his on fast enough. As he did so, he exclaimed joyfully, "Oh, Colonel, I just want to kiss you!"
That kind of a comment was not something that the Colonel expected from his pilot. He gave Murdock a strange look, and then suggested, "Uh, I don't think that will be necessary, Captain."
BA snickered a bit as he set down the two bags he was carrying due to the exchange between Hannibal and Murdock, but especially with the Colonel's reaction. He had to admit that it was pretty funny, although he knew that the pilot would never do such a thing toward their leader. But, it was a rare moment whenever someone could make Hannibal squirm a bit. After a few seconds, he urged, "Come on, man, let's get goin'. I wanna see my Mama."
Templeton Peck cupped his hands together and blew into them, trying to warm them up just a bit more. Pulling his hands away from his mouth, he rubbed them together as he started looking a lot more comfortable with the thick coat on. "Well, guys," the con artist jumped in with measured tones, his teeth thankfully not chattering anymore. "I had to bite the bullet on this one, but I managed to scam us a nice vehicle. We won't be riding in the lap of luxury, but I think you'll find it very comfortable."
Murdock rolled his eyes slightly upon hearing that from the Supply Officer. The last time Face scammed them a car that he said was comfortable, the only thing that fit that description was the seats . . . provided they could have stopped themselves from bouncing out of them with how bad the suspension, shocks, brakes and transmission were.
Apparently, Murdock wasn't the only one that had recalled the last car that he had managed to scam for the Team. Colonel Smith's eyes narrowed slightly, his own skepticism rising within him as he also recalled the last vehicle that the Lieutenant had managed to procure. "Face, just what kind of a car did you manage to get for us?" he questioned, his voice very firm.
BA let out a growl, and then added in a gruff tone, "This one better not be like the last car, sucka. I don't like havin' my kidneys bounced aroun' like a rubber ball." As a highly skilled mechanic, he took pride in whatever vehicle he drove, and could fix up most jalopies from being on the edge of the engine seizing to one that purred like a kitten. That last car that Face got, though . . . there was just no way that he could do anything to make it run better. That's just how rusted out it was. They were lucky that the thing even just held together! It would have been better to put that thing out of its misery and get another car.
Murdock studied his fingernails for a moment, trying to blow on them to warm them up even faster. "You know, Faceman, the big guy's right. The last car you got us was a wreck!" he complained, building up into almost a higher pitched whine.
Templeton's face took on a look of mock hurt, almost as if he couldn't believe that the others would question his skills with acquiring free transportation. He let out a bit of a nervous laugh as he pleaded almost innocently, "Come on, guys. Don't you trust me?"
All three men looked directly at the Lieutenant and replied in unison, "No!"
Face simply shrugged his shoulders. If they didn't want to believe him, that was fine, as he had a bit of a surprise of his own. They'd soon find out what it was the moment they walked out the doors of the terminal and toward the parking lot. Shrugging off their disbelief, he turned and made his way to the exit, pushing against the metal handle to open the door and slipping out into the cold night air.
Hannibal watched his Supply Officer and let out a chuckle. He unzipped his black parka slightly to pull out a cigar and a lighter from the breast pocket of his safari jacket. Flicking the lighter open, the small flame sprung to life, dancing gently within the warmth of the terminal. He held it up to the end of his cigar, allowing the flame to lick at the tip of it. He took a few puffs and then closed the lighter, returning it to the breast pocket of his safari jacket. He zipped his winter coat up again and then grabbed the empty bag and the other remaining bag while suggesting, "Come on, guys. Let's follow him before he accuses us of making him wait in the freezing cold and getting him sick." He grabbed the empty bag, plus the bag with the supplies, and slung them over his shoulder before heading out the door.
BA grabbed the bag with the ordinance, and Murdock picked up the one with the presents, and they followed suit by following their leader out the door. The moment they stepped outside, they were met by a stiff breeze, which made the air around them seem that much colder. They quickly caught up to Hannibal and, between the three of them with the bags slung over their shoulders, they looked like a rag-tag group of Santas without the red suits and white beards.
They made their way to the parking lot nearby, where they spotted Face, leaning against a black Chevrolet Suburban. It sparkled beneath the artificial light and looked to be band new. The wind whipped through the Lieutenant's blonde hair, which he quickly tried to put back into place . . . or at least as much of it as possible considering the elements he had to endure. A smug smile appeared upon his lips as they approached, knowing full well that they likely felt dumb for ever doubting him. He came through this time, and in a big way.
"I don't believe it," BA noted with admiration as he appraised the vehicle. He approached and watched as Face held up a finger, allowing a set of keys to dangle from it. Grabbing them from his hand, BA opened the back of the Suburban and hefted his bag inside. Murdock and Hannibal also placed their bags back there as well before moving around to the doors of the utility vehicle, opening them and climbing inside.
Hannibal climbed inside the front passenger seat and scanned the dashboard. A small smile appeared on his face, and the tone of his voice echoed his satisfaction as he commented, "Nice, Face." He was impressed that Face was able to get such a vehicle . . . big and comfortable, with more than ample room for all of them and plenty to spare, but with enough horsepower under the hood to make BA smile like a kid on Christmas morning.
Murdock hopped into the seat behind BA and closed the door behind him, again blowing on his fingertips to try and warm them. Even those few minutes out in the cold, going from the terminal to the car, returned his hands to the cold state that they were in prior to getting the jacket. Of course, Hannibal brought them the winter coats . . . but did he think about gloves? Maybe he did, but for right now all Texan wanted to do was to get in out of the cold, and he wasn't talking about in a car either. "Hey, Face, where'd you say that the hotel was where we were going to be stayin' at?"
BA started up the engine and listened to the melodic purr. A slight smile touched his lips. Turning the heat on in the car, however, would have to wait until the engine was warmed up a bit more. Canadian cars came with a separate system for heating that was independent of the motor's engine, but he didn't see anything labeled in French, so they'd have to endure the cold just a bit more until they got moving.
"Well, I managed to scam us a nice penthouse at the Chicago Hilton and Towers at the corner of Michigan Avenue and Balbo," the con artist noted, settling into the seat behind Hannibal and closing the door. His tone of voice indicating how much he appreciated even his own work to be able to scam something as fancy as that without it costing them a single penny. The Hilton and Towers was a very notable establishment, with the penthouse usually booked for weeks and by big names in entertainment, politics, and more. Yes, this was going to be a very nice stay. Returning his focus to the inside of the vehicle, he asked, "You know where that's at, don't you, BA?"
"'Course I do, sucka! I grew up here," BA growled lightly. Shifting the Suburban into gear, he pulled out of the parking lot toward the Adler Planetarium, and eventually onto the iconic Lake Shore Drive. Not only was he thankful to leave the airport behind, but he was also eager to see his mom . . .