27 Supermen and Underdogs
AN: Please do not try any of Murdock's suggestions for making things explode or give off smoke or light. The first one can create serious burns with the chemical reaction that happens.
Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.
"Melody, we're going to need another pitcher or vase and an oil lamp for Face. And a pair of tweezers, more iodine and plenty of clean white cloth or gauze, if you have it." Hannibal had to give her a small push before she could tear her horrified gaze from the Captain's sleeve. While she scurried off, keeping low, to find the items, he returned his attention to Murdock.
That's a lot of blood. How could I have missed something that was bleeding that much?
"Ah'm okay. Really. Ah'm okay. You okay, guys?" The pilot peered at each man in turn and attempted to keep an unconcerned expression on his face. "Whatcha guys lookin' at? Nothin' t' see here, folks. Pick up yer chips 'n' move 'long t' th' nex' table."
He pushed away Hannibal's hands as the Colonel attempted to ease his shirt off. Sucking in a gasp of pain, he slumped against the wall for support.
B. A. snorted his disapproval. "Let the Colonel do what he's gotta do, fool, or I'll make ya sit still so he can."
"At least let me put a clean bandage on it." The older man gave the Sergeant a warning look.
Back down, B. A. He'll bleed even more if he struggles. I could pull rank on him but he's stubborn. He knows we have to get the shooter and he wants a part of the action.
In a way, Hannibal respected Murdock's unwillingness to be out of commission. None of his men appreciated sitting idly by during a mission. It was what made them a close-knit team.
The pilot glared at B. A. for a few seconds before sighing and submitting to Hannibal's care. "Ain' nothin' t' worry over. Plug th' two holes 'n' ah'll be right as rain."
"It doesn't look like it's as easy as that, son. That bullet may have nicked a blood vessel." The Colonel pressed his hands on Murdock's shoulders to keep him from pitching forward in a faint. "Steady now."
The injured man snickered. "Steady? Ah was born steady 'n' ready. Ah'm Superman. Don'tcha know, bullets bounce offa me."
"You ain' Superman, fool. You more like Underdog." B. A. got on Murdock's left side to hold him upright.
The injured man put one forefinger in the air and grinned. "Not plane, nor bird, nor even frog. It's jus' li'l ol' me . . . " He swayed to the left and collapsed against B. A., jarring his injured arm. He groaned the finish to the rhyme. ". . . Underdog."
"He's gettin' loopier than he usually is, Hannibal." B. A. took out a red bandana and wiped off the blood smeared on his bare skin.
"Behave yourself, Captain." Hannibal didn't want to reprimand the younger man but he wasn't making the medical exam quick or easy. "We still have to get that guy out of the van and you're keeping us from doing that."
The last statement had the desired effect. Murdock sobered and asked, "What's yer plan, Colonel? 'N' what d' ah do?"
"I need you to focus. You're going to have to watch to make sure nobody gets in here. Do you think you can do that, Captain?" Hannibal took the gauze from Melody and helped Murdock off with his shirt.
B. A. scowled at the thought of leaving Murdock to protect the girl. "Fool ain' in no shape . . . "
The Colonel swung his icy blue eyes toward the Sergeant and silenced him. "I need two of us to create a distraction and one to sneak up on the van and capture the guy when he gets out to investigate. Do you think Murdock is in better condition to do that or stay here and keep Melody safe?"
"He's right, B. A." Face agreed as he held the pilot's left arm still. He watched Hannibal probe the wound with tweezers to find remnants of cloth. B. A. gripped Murdock around the waist with both arms, the pilot's back against him, pinning his right arm to his side.
The moan in Murdock's chest became a wild howl of pain which had the pilot arching his back away from B. A.'s abdomen. Hannibal flinched at the sound.
I should have examined this better the first time. Maybe he wouldn't have bled out so much.
He finished the procedure in a few minutes. It left the Captain panting and drained of energy. The Colonel poured the last of the povidone iodine on the wound and rebandaged Murdock's arm.
"Now do you think you can do what I asked?" Hannibal scrutinized the injured man's pallid sweaty face and his dilated pupils.
If I had another way to do this, I would. B. A.'s right. He isn't in any shape . . .
The Captain gave him a weak salute. "Ah won' let nobody in here that don' b'long in here, Colonel. Need me t' do anythin' else while you guys're havin' all th' fun?"
Hannibal smiled grimly at the sarcasm. "Being our resident explosives expert, do you have ideas on how we can explode these two pitchers or create a light and smoke show for our trespasser? Something that we can set with a delayed reaction?"
"Ya ain' got indoor plumbin' in this cabin so usin' toilet bowl cleaner 'n' tin foil ain' an option." Murdock frowned, deep in thought. "Hey, ah got it. Melody got any ol' sparklers 'r fireworks 'round here? 'N' somethin' we can make fuses outta? Ya need somethin' that'll do a slow burn, give ya time t' get in position."
"Stay put, buddy." Face patted his friend on the knee. "I'll check."
"Just tell us what we need, fool, an' we'll get that guy that shot ya," B. A. growled.
Hannibal smiled his approval of Murdock's suggestions.
Good job, son.