So this is the A-Team? I'm not impressed.
- Murdock, "Body Slam"
Chapter 23: Major Pain
It was just after 1:00am, and in spite of the weather the headlights of cars could be seen through the chain link fence that separated Wentworth Avenue from the I-94 Expressway. During the weekdays, Chicagoans often called the Dan Ryan . . . the Damn Ryan . . . mainly because of the potential for traffic jams to clog up that major thoroughfare at all hours of the day and night.
Snow continued to fall steadily, and a brisk wind whipped up and buffeted the tan and grey brick building that sat at the corner of 51st and Wentworth. A white canopy sat over the glass windows and doors, and bore lettering identifying the building as the Second District of the Chicago Police Department. This particular station was right across from Chicago's notorious Englewood neighborhood, which had the highest per capita crime rate compared to all of the different neighborhoods throughout the city.
Inside the lobby where it was warm, a portly African American woman stood there, still bundled up in her coat. Her hair was done up in a bun, and the way she shifted from one foot to the other was a clear indication that she wasn't very happy with the treatment she was receiving. In front of her was a black marble desk with a small strip of opaque glass that ran along the length of the desk.
On the other side of the marble desk was an officer with curly black hair and a bushy mustache. His uniform bore the standard colors that other officers wore . . . including the light blue shirt that was common among all Chicago police officers. The bars affixed to the lapels showed that he held the rank of Captain and the silver name plate affixed just above the right pocket bore the last name of Davis. He looked at the woman standing on the other side of the desk, almost stunned by her reaction.
"I demand to see my baby!" the voice of Adele Baracus echoed throughout the open lobby. She was making quite a commotion, so it was fortunate that it was just the two of them there. She narrowed her eyes and jutted her chin out in determination as she demanded, "I know my son is here, and I wanna see him!"
Captain Davis sighed and closed his eyes for a moment as he ran a hand through his curly hair in frustration. It was people like her that made him loathe working the overnight shift. He always had the strangest types showing up whenever he did. And, right now, he had no idea what to do with this stubborn woman, who clearly wasn't about to leave until she saw her son. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I told you before that the A-Team are high security prisoners. There are strict orders to not allow any visitors until the military arrives."
Even though they had been arrested a couple of hours ago for breaking in and entering at the Museum of Science and Industry, the news of their capture had been kept under wraps. Not even the media had been alerted to this. If they had been informed, then they would have descended upon the station like a massive hoard, demanding statements from the chief of that precinct. But, even with the media being kept in the dark, then how did this woman know that the A-Team were being held here?
"You can't be so heartless to keep a mama from seeing her son this close to Christmas, can you?" Mrs. Baracus pleaded, her voice quaking slightly as her eyes filled with unshed tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks.
"Oh great, this is all I need . . . a hysterical woman on my hands," he muttered to himself, under his breath, to where the woman before him couldn't hear. If she had, chances are that her rage with not being able to see her son would have been increased by several times and she would have taken it out on him.
He needed to get rid of her, somehow, without making her even more upset than she apparently already was. The military was going to arrive at some point and transfer the A-Team into their custody, and the last thing he needed was for her to be present at the time that happened. It was bad enough that her son was apparently a member of the fugitive military unit and refused to leave until she had a chance to see him, even though it was strictly against orders.
Captain Davis opened his mouth, and was just about to suggest that she go home, when he felt a chill fill the lobby. He glanced up with his dark brown eyes and noticed that the front door had opened, and a military officer was walking in. From the color of the uniform as well as the coat, it was clear that the man was a part of the US Army. The rank insignia upon his lapels were also visible and showed that he held the rank of Major.
The Army officer had brown hair and brown eyes, with a clean cut look and appeared ruggedly handsome within the uniform. His cap was still perched upon his head, and he did not bother removing it. Within his left hand, he bore some papers that looked like they were important.
He approached the desk and delivered a crisp salute before announcing in his smooth, baritone voice, "I'm Major Stanton from Fort Sheridan. I received orders from a Colonel Decker to transfer these men immediately to the base until he arrives. I trust that you'll find this paperwork to be in proper order in order for the A-Team to be remanded into my custody for the transfer to Fort Sheridan."
Davis raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised at how quickly the military worked when it came to the A-Team. The fugitives had been picked up almost two hours ago, and the officer was professional but very brisk when he announced his intentions. Still, the request was not unusual considering the high security risk attached to these prisoners and their reputation for being able to escape from almost anything.
"Alright, Major. I'll . . ." he started to say as he began to look down at the papers within the officer's hand. He reached for them, but never had a chance to finish his statement, much less look over the paperwork thoroughly to affirm that everything was in order. The documents were ripped right out of the Major's hand!
They both looked at the African American woman, who bore an expression that made it clear that she was absolutely furious by this turn of events. "How dare you!" Mrs. Baracus yelled angrily at both the Army Major, as well as the police Captain. "You know my boy and his friends are innocent! You can't do this! I won't let you do this!" With each statement, she ripped the documents she had grabbed from the Major until it was nothing more than confetti . . . and she did it before either man could stop her. She stood there and tossed the remains of the papers onto the floor, glaring at both officers defiantly, her breath coming fast as she was consumed with rage.
"That does it!" Davis snapped. He stood up from behind the desk and quickly moved around it, descending two stairs into the main part of the lobby. He roughly grabbed onto the arm of the older woman as he firmly threatened, "I have been patient with you long enough, Mrs. Baracus. I could have you arrested for what you just did."
He was about to escort her out of the building when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he found the tall Army Major standing behind him. He noticed a small and quick motion that Stanton made with his hand, and understood what he was intending. He stepped aside, and allowed the military officer to address the woman that had been causing him problems for the past thirty minutes.
"Mrs. Baracus?" the tall officer gently spoke to the woman that stood defiantly before him. He saw her nod her head slightly, acknowledging the fact that he was talking to her and treating her with at least some semblance of respect, which was a lot more than the police officer had given her. He drew in a breath and then continued, "I'm sure you are aware of your son's fugitive status, and the fact that we are obliged to take him into military custody. If you leave now, we shall forget this incident and not press charges. If you choose to continue to cause problems, I will have this fine officer here arrest you for obstruction of justice."
Tears filled the eyes of Mrs. Baracus once more, and her voice quivered as she retorted, "I can't believe that none of you would be so cruel to keep a mama from her son this close to Christmas." She then let out a huff, and pulled her arm free of the police officer's grasp before turning and leaving the building.
"I'm sorry, Major," Captain Davis apologized before returning to the area behind the desk once more. He gave a slight sigh of relief that she was gone. He hadn't really wanted to arrest the poor woman, but with the Army officer standing right there he had to do something once she tore up the transfer papers. "I had no idea she was going to do that. She was pretty distraught, and I thought I could have persuaded her to go home."
Stanton held up a hand and nodded in understanding. "No need to apologize, Captain, and don't worry about the paperwork. I'll have a courier run over a fresh copy in the morning, after I return to the base." He paused for a moment and then continued expectantly, "Now . . . the A-Team?"
"One moment, Major. Let me call into the back and I'll have the prisoners prepared and brought out," Davis said as he picked up a phone. As he waited, he put a hand over the bottom portion and then asked, "Will you require a vehicle to transport them, or a police escort?"
"No, that won't be necessary, Captain. I already have my own transportation, and as long as they are within handcuffs, I don't believe they'll give me much trouble," Stanton waved a hand dismissively. He turned around and walked over to a display on one of the walls that bore several wanted posters. His brown eyes studied each one, as he overheard Davis say something into the phone. His gaze then fell upon the wanted poster for the A-Team . . . which he found unusual for it to still be up on the wall if they had just been taken into custody, and especially in that police district station.
After a few moments, he heard Davis start to tell him, "Major Stanton, they'll be brought up any moment now."
"Good," the Major said with a tone of great satisfaction within his voice as he continued to look at the wanted posters. "As I'm sure that you are well aware, we have been in pursuit of these men for many years. We will be very glad to have them locked away in a high security military stockade."
Davis watched the Army officer carefully for a moment before putting a box on the desk in front of him. He then pulled out a clipboard with some papers. "Major, if you have a moment, I have some papers for you to sign so we can release them into your custody as soon as they're brought out from the back. I also have the personal belongings that were taken from them in this box, as well as the keys for their handcuffs."
Stanton turned and made his way back to the desk, admiring the efficiency of Captain Davis since there was already a ball point pen resting on the clipboard. He picked up the pen and quickly flipped through the papers, signing each one in the appropriate spots that were indicated. No sooner had he signed off on the last page, he noticed that a door opened and the A-Team members emerged from the back, all still wearing their parkas with their hands cuffed behind their backs.
He looked up at all three men, his brown eyes catching their gazes. Thankfully, none of them bore a look of recognition within their expressions . . . although a lot of it likely could have been attributed to the poker faces that Hannibal and Face employed when playing games of gin with each other. Stanton narrowed his eyes with disdain as he looked over the three men.
"So, this is the infamous A-Team," he countered in a haughty tone. He paraded in front of them, stopping to look each man in their eyes, before proceeding back to the desk. "Forgive me if I don't salute, Colonel Smith, but I make it a point not to salute a superior officer that's a wanted criminal. Truthfully, I thought you would have presented more of a challenge due to your reputations. Disappointing . . ."
Face didn't hesitate, as a sly grin crossed his lips. "Hey, Hannibal, I guess someone didn't like being woken up from his beauty sleep," the con artist cracked.
A thousand megawatt smile started to show on Hannibal's face, and his ice blue eyes twinkled with the Jazz. He took note of the officer's rank insignias on his lapel and chimed in, "What's the matter, Major? Colonel Decker not man enough to fly out here and deal with us himself?"
BA let out a low, deep, rumbling growl before he threatened in a low tone, "Just be glad we're in cuffs, sucka, or you'd need a new name. Yeah . . . Major Pain, as you'd be in a whole world of hurt!"
Ignoring the comments, Stanton pulled out his gun, checked the chamber, and then flipped off the safety. With his free hand, he grabbed the box of personal belongings and the handcuff keys from the desk, and then nodded to Davis. "Thank you for your hospitality, Captain. I can take it from here," Stanton informed him.
The police Captain looked at the Army major rather incredulously. These men were extremely dangerous, even when secured in handcuffs. They couldn't afford to be underestimated, no matter how much it seemed like they couldn't escape at this point. "Are you sure, Major?" Captain Davis asked, his voice still conveying his uncertainty. "We can . . ."
Major Stanton looked to Davis again, the warmth within his eyes quickly leaving as they turned cold, and his voice took on a much more authoritative tone. He interrupted the police officer before he could continue, "I am quite certain, Captain Davis. Thank you for your cooperation. I'll be sure that Colonel Decker and my superiors recognize your assistance in this matter."
He turned away from the desk and faced the three members of the A-Team. Gesturing with his gun, he ordered, "Get moving, and don't bother to try anything. I have orders to shoot you if you even think about trying to escape." He watched as the prisoners started heading toward the door, and he followed them out of it into the cold night . . .