26 Bleeding Out
Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.
B. A. knew one thing: the punk who took a pot shot through the window and hit his little brother in the process was going to pay. One look at Murdock's paling face told him the wound may not have been as 'through and through' as they originally thought.
The pilot was compensating for his pain and weakening state with an increase in the amount of jibber-jabber directed toward the Sergeant.
"Sure hope that guy don' get Billy all riled up. Ya know, ah ain' had th' time t' get Billy 'is rabies shot this year. Shouldn'ta even brought 'im on this li'l trip. Figured warn't no harm in it bein' Billy knows ya'll. He wouldn' take a bite outta you 'cause he knows ya'd bite back. Wouldn'tcha." Murdock flashed a smile that was more of a grimace.
B. A. noticed Murdock's drawl was becoming more pronounced. That was a bad sign. The bullet probably left bits of cloth in the wound. His eyes were becoming too bright and glassy. Another bad sign. When Murdock took a bullet for Hannibal a year before, it didn't take long for the fool to go from bad to worse with the resulting infection.
He grunted his acknowledgment of the pilot's last statement. He wasn't going to repeat his litany of "There ain' no dog." If Murdock needed to talk to keep his head clear for whatever Hannibal's plan was, B. A. was going to try being as tolerant as he could for as long as he could. It didn't mean he had to admit there was a dog. He just hoped Hannibal would be coming back soon to let them know what they had to do.
"Hope he ain' wearin' all black either. Billy hates black. Ya know that, Big Guy?" Murdock paused for a deep breath and a swallow. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again. His gaze was slightly unfocused.
A rustling noise from the direction of the bedroom attracted B. A.'s attention. Murdock didn't notice.
"Billy don' handle stewed prunes good neither. When he gets holda 'em, ah got a mess t' clean up. If he did somethin' in yer ride, ah promise ah'll try 'n' get it all cleaned up proper. Gee, he's been awful quiet th' last few minutes. Ya think he . . . " His words slurred together slightly. He glanced at B. A., then turned his head to see what the black man was looking at.
Melody crawled on hands and knees toward them. Her gaze traveled from B. A. to Murdock and then to the pilot's sleeve. She drew in a sharp gasp of surprise and dismay.
"You're bleeding."
The two whispered words momentarily confused Murdock. He blinked slowly at her and absently looked down at his arm.
Her statement made the Sergeant scrutinize the Captain's shirt sleeve a bit more carefully. She was right. He had bled through the bandage. The red plaid of the shirt hid the blood stain and in the dimmed light B. A. hadn't noticed. Blood soaked the lower half of his sleeve. The Sergeant cursed himself for not paying better attention.
"Oh." Murdock touched the spreading stain and stared at his reddened fingertips as if bewildered that they had blood on them.
More rustling in the doorway of the bedroom announced Hannibal's arrival with Face behind him.
"What's going on here, Sergeant?" Hannibal analyzed the scene before him, putting his hand up to stop the Lieutenant from going any further.
B. A. shot a warning glance at the Colonel and gestured with his head toward the pilot. Nothing needed to be said.
More than ever B. A. hoped Hannibal knew what he was doing. Murdock was in no condition to lend much support. The Colonel's grim expression told him that he recognized the seriousness of the situation. Face kept silent but his eyes reflected worry.
The two men drew closer to the wounded Captain, partly to block Melody's view but mostly to be there should Murdock topple over from loss of blood.
"Let me see again how bad it is." The Colonel reached for Murdock's sleeve but the injured man twisted away, muttering, "Ain' hardly more 'n a paper cut. Ya know how ya cut yer finger 'n' it bleeds a lot more 'n it should? It'll stop."
The older man sighed in frustration over the Captain's stubbornness.
"Still think we gonna be like Gideon's army, Colonel?" B. A. rumbled, ready to step in if Murdock resisted medical care.
Face countered with a remark of his own. "Change of plan, Hannibal?"
Hannibal shook his head as he maneuvered around to get a better look at the Captain's arm without touching him yet. "Just means we'd better get that guy in the van quick so we can get Murdock some real help real soon."
The pilot gave him a weak smile of approval and a thumbs-up. "Ah'm good t' go, Colonel. Jus' tell me what t' do."
"Here's what you do, Captain. You let me see if I can do anything more for your arm." Murdock's smile turned into a frown as he heard the no-nonsense tone of Hannibal's voice. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear but he knew the Colonel would leave him no options but to obey.