What will become of the A-Team in its desperate attempt to save off world wide disaster? Will good triumph over evil? Will Rocky Racoon be reunited with Little Mel? These and other questions will be answered in the next exciting chapter of: The Fuhrer the Better.
- Murdock, "The Bend in the River"
Chapter 24: Unexpected Rescue
The members of the A-Team were ushered north along the driveway to 51st Street, where a familiar black Chevrolet Suburban was parked. A light dusting of snow covered the roof of the vehicle, along with the front hood. Snow was still steadily falling, but not as intensely as it had been earlier that evening. The wind was also starting to die down as well, and the strong gusts had reduced to gentle breezes.
Headlights could still be seen from an occasional car that raced along the Dan Ryan Expressway, although there were fewer cars that dared to traverse the high speed route than there had been a while ago. Even in spite of the snow that rested upon the Suburban, as well as all of the road salt that threatened to turn the vehicle a shade of grey due to the white layer of film that clung to the sides, some areas of the car still seemed to sparkle under the artificial light. The front door of the large vehicle opened, and a short shadowy figure emerged from inside. After a moment, the person stepped under the faint glow of a street light, revealing Mrs. Adele Baracus.
The group stopped short, and Sergeant BA Baracus looked at her in surprise. He knew this area was very dangerous with how close it was to Englewood, so he was naturally concerned for her safety. She had the heart and fighting spirit of a tiger, but there was no way that she'd be able to defend herself from a thug or drug dealer wielding a gun. "Mama, what are you doing here?" the Ordinance Officer asked out of concern.
"What does it look like I'm doing, Scooter?" she countered with a brisk huff, almost as if she wasn't very happy that he couldn't believe that she wanted to help get him out of jail. She stood up a bit straighter, clearly filled with pride and it showed upon her face as she stated, "I'm here to rescue you."
Hannibal couldn't help but to grin wildly as he heard that statement from Mrs. Baracus. Even from the last time that they visited her and they had that one discussion about the time that BA had gone into the Army, he could tell that she was a very strong willed woman. Yes, she cared deeply about her son as any mother would, but when it came to her son's safety she was as fierce as a mother bear protecting her cubs or a caged tiger that was looking for the perfect opportunity to break free and attack those that threatened it.
"Aw, Mama," BA countered in a gentle, but almost whining tone. He was obviously very concerned for his mother and her safety, and the worry clearly showed in the expression on his face and in his eyes as he gazed at her. "You shoudn't've gotten involved. You could get into a lot of trouble for this . . . bustin' us outta jail."
"There wasn't really a lot of choice, BA," Murdock said from behind, as he fished out the keys to the handcuffs that Captain Davis had provided him when he signed off on the papers for their release and belongings. He stuffed the box underneath his arm, and then moved behind Hannibal first. Inserting the key into the handcuffs, he twisted it until a click could be heard, indicating that each one had unlocked.
With his hands freed, Hannibal brought them in front of his chest and started rubbing his wrists, where the cold metal of the handcuffs had sat just a moment ago. He glanced over to his pilot and grinned. "Nice job, Murdock," he noted appreciatively. He could only imagine what it took for the Captain to be able to smooth talk that police officer into freeing them.
"Murdock, where did you get the uniform?" Templeton Peck asked out of curiosity as he felt Murdock start to unlock his cuffs. Hannibal was usually good with anticipating things, especially if he planned for certain hiccups in the grand scheme of things, but he somehow doubted that the Colonel had expected to have been arrested by the Chicago police department during this trip and packed for that contingency. Although he had run several scams with Murdock assisting him, he was still curious as to how his best friend managed to pull this one off.
"Mrs. B helped me with that one," Murdock noted with a great deal of pride. He looked up after finishing with Face's handcuffs and noticed a huge smile upon her face. It was almost as if she was experiencing the Jazz just as much as the A-Team normally did.
"When Murdock told me his idea to bust you boys outta jail, I knew it'd be better with me helpin' him," she chimed in, her voice almost practically filled with glee. She was definitely excited about the part she played in helping to free her son and his friends, and it was very apparent within the tone of her voice. "We got the uniform at Fantasy Costumes up over on Milwaukee, just past North Avenue. They're open 24 hours," she explained before turning to her son. "You remember the place, don't'cha Scooter? We always used to go up there to get you a Halloween costume."
Murdock moved behind BA and started to unlock his handcuffs, even though he heard a slight growl from the muscular Sergeant. The Texan wasn't sure if it was because he was being freed of his cuffs last, or if it was because of the fact that his mother had gotten involved in their rescue. "Sorry, BA, but she knew the city and where to go. She even knew the station you guys would've been taken to after being arrested at the Museum. I wouldn't have gotten you guys out without her help," the pilot tried to reason as he finished unlocking the handcuffs.
"Crazy fool," BA protested grumpily, still not at all happy that his mother had gotten involved with this. It was bad enough that Spencer was seeing her and what they found out about him was likely going to break her heart. The last thing he needed was for his mother to end up with a criminal record or behind bars due to their efforts to free them from the police. Even though he had said it before, he found it necessary to reiterate, "She could've gotten into a lot of trouble."
"Stow it, Sergeant," Hannibal ordered, breaking off the argument before it could go any further. He knew that BA was upset about his mother being involved in the rescue, but there were some more pressing matters they had to worry about. "We need to get into the vehicle and get outta here before someone walks out of the cop shop and thinks to ask what we're doing."
Giving a grunt of dissatisfaction, the muscular mechanic grabbed the box that Murdock was carrying and fished the keys out from inside of it. He knew when the Colonel was right . . . that they had to get out of the area before the cops wised up to the fact that they just had just been conned into releasing the A-Team. He opened up the driver's side door and climbed inside, flipping the box into the back seat to get it out of the way. The box was pretty light, and it bounced around a bit before settling down onto the fabric of the bench seat. When they were at the station, the police tried to take the gold that hung around BA's neck, but a warning growl was enough to get them to quickly reconsider that notion.
He put the key into the ignition and turned it. A slight smile appeared upon his lips as the engine roared to life. He knew that he didn't think to give Murdock the keys during the escape from the Museum, since he had expected that they would have all gotten out of there. Just the fact that it was here, now, that meant that the crazy fool likely hotwired it in order to get the engine started. Thankfully, he hadn't messed it up. If he had, then the pilot would be feeling some serious pain right about now.
While the Sergeant was getting the car started up, Mrs. B looked over at the blonde-haired Lieutenant. "Face!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with worry as she looked at the con artist. She darted up to him with an agility that belied her large size. She gently placed her fingers on his jaw and turned his head to look at the gauze that Hannibal had taped onto the side of his head. "You're hurt. Murdock told me that you had been bleeding. Your blood was on my Albert's bandana . . . the one that Scooter carries around with him now."
Templeton Peck reached up to touch her hand, before gently dislodging it from his face. He flashed her a small, confident smile that could charm the scales off a rattlesnake. "I'm alright, Mrs. B. It's just a flesh wound," he noted to her, trying to brush it off and make the wound not as serious as it seemed to be. "I'll just have a bit of a headache for a while."
She looked at him darkly for a moment, and her brows furrowed. "Did Spencer do this to you?" she asked, her voice taking on a low and dangerous tone, almost matching that of her son's when he was angry. Whether Spencer had been sweet to her all this time or not, if he had hurt his son's friend, he was going to have to answer to her.
"Nah," Face responded, not really thinking about it too much. The guard had gotten off a good shot, and in a way the Lieutenant realized that he was very fortunate. He walked her over to the front passenger door and opened it up for her. "Just one of his security goons. Got off a lucky shot."
Adele's face displayed an incredible fury as she started to mutter, "Why that no good, lousy, son of a . . ."
Murdock grinned at Hannibal and Face, who looked momentarily startled by the slew of expletives that streamed from the older woman's mouth. Neither the Colonel nor the Lieutenant had expected such a sweet old woman to say what she did, but once they heard it and got over the initial shock, they started to grin right along with their pilot.
"Well, let's get you boys back to my apartment. I'll make something warm to eat, and then we can fix up that bandage better," Mrs. Baracus suggested, shaking her head in disgust at the sight of the make shift bandage, but also with just how much she had been blinded by her love for Spencer to not see what had been taking place all along.
Extending his hand again, Face helped Mrs. B up into the front passenger seat of the black Suburban, and then watched as Murdock climbed into the back bench seat to take up a seat in the middle. He shut the door behind her, and then climbed into the back seat directly behind where she was sitting. He noted Hannibal making his way around the front of the vehicle, and climb into the back seat directly behind BA.
After he got in and shut the door, the Colonel's ice blue eyes gazed out the window as he felt the vehicle start to pull away from the curb. Inwardly, he felt a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders the further away they got from the police station. He turned his attention back to Murdock and grinned, "Thanks, Captain. I knew we could count on you."
"'Twas nothin', Colonel," Murdock responded with a bit of a shrug. His warm brown eyes came to rest upon BA's mother as he added, "It was Mrs. B's idea to run interference with the cop. I couldn't have done this without her."
Mrs. Baracus turned around in the front seat to look at Murdock. She blushed a bit, her brown cheeks turning a shade of crimson due to the credit he had just given her for her role in the escape effort. "Well, someone had to throw the cop off. What he thought was the transfer papers, that I ripped up in front of his nose, was actually some scratch paper from the office," she grinned, her eyes sparkling almost as if she was basking in the glow of the Jazz. "I just wanted to look out for my boys. All of you seem like sons to me, just like my Scooter."
"Still think you could've gotten hurt goin' into that jail like that. That ain't no place for no woman," BA groused, unwilling to give it up. He couldn't help it . . . not with how protective he was of his mother. He didn't look at her when he said it either. He kept his eyes focused on the road, paying careful attention to avoid any hidden police squads. Right now, they didn't need to draw any more attention to themselves than was necessary.
"Bosco Andre Baracus," Mrs. B snapped in a sharp tone that immediately commanded the attention of everyone in the Suburban. A fire was present within her eyes as she looked fiercely at her son, and just the force of how she said his name caused the three men in the back to slightly cringe. "Don't you sass me! The day I can't take care of myself is the day I check into some retirement home."
BA's expression grew somber, almost like a child that had been severely scolded. It wasn't often that his mother was so upset with him that she called him by his full name. "Yes, Mama," he responded quietly, never wavering in keeping his attention on the road ahead of him.
Sensing the perfect opportunity to change the subject, Face leaned forward slightly to look expectantly at the Colonel. "So, what's the plan, Hannibal?" he asked as he reached into the box that Murdock held on his lap to pull out his lockpick tools.
"Simple," Hannibal quickly responded as he also reached into the box that Murdock held and first pulled out his trademark black leather gloves. He stuffed them into the pocket of the parka, and then reached in to pull out his cigars and the chrome plated lighter. He put all of the cigars, except for one, inside his safari jacket that he wore under the winter coat. The last one he kept within his hands, rolling it between his fingers as a plan started to formulate within his mind. "We'll regroup at Mrs. B's apartment, and then head for the rink. We've got a couple of hours to get this set up. Once the sun rises, it's going to get busy downtown and we don't want to attract the attention of the cops," he started to mention. His ice blue eyes looked at BA's mother as he suggested, "Mrs. Baracus, we'll let you know when this is all over and Spencer is behind bars."
"No way, Hannibal," Adele quickly protested. She turned back to look at him, her eyes filled with grim determination. "Spencer invited me to be with him during the ceremony. If I'm not there, he'll get suspicious."
Colonel Smith flipped open the silver lighter and watched as the tiny flame roared to life. Even within the cold that surrounded them, he could feel the heat off the small lighter. He bit off the end of the cigar, and spat out the covering before wedging it between his teeth. He held the flame over the end of the stogie and drew in a few puffs to kindle the tobacco that started to give off a pleasant scent as it slowly burned. He then closed the lid on the lighter and put it into the inside pocket of his safari jacket as well.
That revelation that BA's mother shared with them brought a new twist to the plan of the cunning strategist, but it didn't totally derail it. It just meant that they would really have to be on top of their game to ensure the safety of Adele Baracus as well. "Okay, Mrs. B," the West Point graduate conceded. "Go ahead and attend with Spencer as planned, but the moment it starts to go down, I want you to get to safety."
Mrs. Baracus nodded. She knew just how angry her son could get sometimes, and he'd likely kill both Hannibal and Spencer if anything were to happen to her during the dedication ceremony.
The Colonel took another puff on his cigar and then focused his attention to his men. "BA and Murdock, you two get to play Santa and elf again," he noted with a huge mischievous grin. He knew how much they both hated those costumes, but they were definitely going to be necessary in order for this plan to prove successful.
Murdock rolled his eyes in disgust and gave a very audible groan. He couldn't believe that Hannibal was going to make him wear that outfit again . . . the same outfit that he didn't want to be caught dead in, especially with how it showed off a few of his, um, assets below the waist. Not to mention how much it dug in where he didn't want it to, and made for a very uncomfortable experience.
BA's reaction was very similar in nature. He let out a grim sigh before starting to protest, "Awwww, Hannibal . . ."
Pulling the cigar out of his mouth with his left hand, Hannibal countered firmly, "Now, BA, you know that you're the hardest one of all of us to disguise. After last night, if Spencer recognizes any of us, he'd alert the police on hand and have us thrown back in jail. The Santa costume is the only way to keep him from doing that." The only response from the Ordinance Officer was a slight huff, but then silence. The Colonel knew that he was right, and also suspected the Sergeant was realizing that based on the lack of a retort.
A grin appeared upon his face once more as he turned to look past Murdock to his second in command. The Lieutenant's good looks would definitely be an advantage here, wound or no wound, and he intended to use it. "Face, you're going to be in the crowd on this one. Blend in and look for anything suspicious. If you see Spencer . . ."
Before he could get another word out, BA interrupted angrily in order to lay his claim, "No way, man! Spencer's mine. Nobody messes with or hurts my Mama."
The Colonel knew that his Sergeant was right. This was his mother after all. If anyone deserved the right to deal with Spencer directly, it was him. "Okay, BA. We'll let you deal with Spencer when it comes time to spring our trap," Hannibal recanted. He looked over at the two men sitting in the back seat with him and continued, "Murdock, you know what Kramer looks like. You're going to have to help Face identify him. Face, you're going to have to make sure that our assassin doesn't fire off the killing shot and keep him from leaving the area."
"And just what will you be doing during all of this, Hannibal?" the young Lieutenant wondered, curious as to what his Commanding Officer's role was going to be in this elaborate plan.
Colonel John Smith's eyes twinkled merrily with the Jazz, and the smile on his face grew bigger than ever to where it seemed like a thousand light bulbs lighting up a room. "I'm going to be driving the Zamboni, of course," he responded jovially.
"Since when did you learn how to drive a Zamboni, man?" BA asked in disbelief. Driving things was normally his responsibility, and based on the tone of his voice it seemed quite obvious that the muscular mechanic was jealous. Most people would give anything for a chance to drive the large machine that made the ice. After all, the person that drove it commanded the attention of all ice skaters in the area for at least fifteen minutes as they waited for the machine to pull off the rink.
The silver-white haired leader turned his gaze out the window for a moment, and his eyes looked like he was recalling a distant yet fond memory. "When I was 15, my first job was at an ice rink in one of the suburbs of Detroit. It was actually the practice rink for the Red Wings, one of the original NHL hockey teams, so they were one of the first smaller rinks to get a Z. They needed to get people trained on how to drive it, and I hung out at that rink a lot so they offered me the chance. Because I was underage they couldn't pay me, so we worked out a deal. They let me skate for free whenever I wanted, and I did the ice for them."
Face and Murdock looked at their Commanding Officer incredulously. Even BA glanced back at the Colonel through the rear view mirror, somewhat surprised by the tale. This was the first time he had shared this story with them, and it had given a bit more insight as to the past of their leader. Hannibal simply grinned as he looked at his men, a sparkle of laughter appearing in his bright blue eyes. "C'mon, guys," he encouraged in a light tone. "It's time to get this show on the road."