Every Thought Captive
Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.
Chapter 9 Sky
"You do remember me, don't you, Captain?"
"Yeah, 'n' I wish I didn'," he muttered. The LSD was still causing tremors and making his jaw clench. He couldn't even be certain the walls weren't pulsating as he watched.
Worse 'n the stuff they try 'n' give me at the VA. Matter o' fact, can I be sure o' who I'm talkin' to? Is this really Jackson?
"Remember that whorehouse in San Francisco where I found you? Ever since I pulled you out of Project Midnight Climax, I've kept close track of you. If I had been a little quicker I could have spared you that first bad LSD trip. Remember that? Huh, Captain?"
What don' I 'member 'bout that? I was only seventeen, new t' San Fran 'n' livin' on the street. Wish I'd never o' visited that place.
Jackson wasn't finished. "You were on the Agency's radar even before that, actually. We knew about you when you blew every grade curve in your old high school. The best and brightest are never overlooked." Jackson hovered over the restrained pilot and smiled.
"Yeah, well, grades ain' everythin'," the pilot mumbled, turning his head toward the wall.
Gotta look 'way. Can't be sure his eyes ain' seein' everythin' I'm thinkin'. He's that good at this shit.
"You were never meant to wind up in that brothel as a test subject for Midnight Climax. And not just flying for Air America either. There were much higher things the Agency wanted you for. Like the Stargate project."
A violent shiver went through Murdock at the mention of Stargate. The memories from that program were responsible for some of his nightmares.
Henderson had me goin' all sorts o' places in my mind t' get information.
As if he knew what the pilot was thinking, Jackson added, "Henderson, you and I go way back, don't we?"
Murdock squeezed his eyes shut against the memories Henderson's name invoked. Memories of the motel room in which his CIA handler died, the suddenly reddening cheeks, the blue tinge to his lips, his last spasmodic gasps for breath, his staring eyes . . .
. . . the knowledge I could o' stopped 'im if I'd jus' been quick 'nough.
"It was really too bad about Henderson. He didn't have to take the fall for that mission, did he? You were the remote viewer. You deliberately gave wrong information to protect someone."
The pilot's thoughts shifted to Mai Thị Bầu Trời. Bầu Trời was the Vietnamese phrase for 'sky' and Sky was what Murdock liked to call her.
He had been protecting her. Her and her entire family. Her father had been supplying information to American CIA agents stationed in Da Nang for some time before he met her.
She was only seventeen and had already seen two brothers join the ranks of the ARVN and disappear without a trace somewhere in the jungle near the Laotian border.
She found out about his special training during one of their many intimate conversations and asked him to use it to find her brothers. Shortly after he "saw" them in a POW camp in Laos, Henderson had a new assignment for him.
His remote viewing target was the movements of Sky's entire family, including Sky herself, on one particular market day in 1973. He would project himself in time and space to watch them and describe what he heard and saw. They wanted everything: complete conversations, items purchased, items passed from one person to another . . . the Agency had become suspicious of the Mai family for some reason.
He didn't tell them everything. There were some fragments of conversation between Sky's mother and a stall vendor which Murdock did not repeat. It all seemed so intrusive, so wrong.
At the last minute, a controversial mission was aborted. The mission, part of the Phoenix program, would have increased the number of interrogation flights he took in the chopper over the South China Sea. The number of South Vietnamese citizens rounded up, interrogated to death and tossed into the ocean would have increased.
Somehow, the American media caught wind of it. In the public outrage that followed, Henderson felt the heat from above. He invited Murdock to his room to witness his death and to provide him with some advice.
What were Henderson's last words t' me?
"You shouldn't have to be burned along with me. You could always plead insanity, Captain. They can't try someone who isn't competent to stand trial."
He took that option and let the darkness in his soul, the trauma he kept at bay from his childhood and his war years, consume him and push him over the edge.
He thought it would stop the interrogations of falsely accused innocents. He thought the accusations against the Mai family would be dropped. The Phoenix program was phased out and F-6 replaced it. His insanity had not saved Sky or her family but it had saved him.
So many wasted years, so many lives destroyed . . .
Involuntary tears prickled in his eyes as a sudden realization came to him.
"Damn you, Jackson. The Mai family was innocent, weren't they? You sold us all out, didn'tcha? It was you, not me," he hissed.
Colonel Jackson let his gaze rest on the two places on Murdock's chest where the skin had been pared away. When he raised his eyes to meet those of the pilot, he was smiling.
"What did you expect? I was your remote viewing trainer when you first came to us. What do they say? 'A student never rises above the level of his teacher.' I planted wrong information here and there for you to find and report. I couldn't be sure you wouldn't eventually begin to remember little pieces of the puzzle and expose me."
"So why d' ya need me if yer so good at it?" Murdock heard a familiar voice protesting from out in the hallway before a door slammed in time, he prevented his mind from summoning up an image of Face.
Don' know if Jackson's able to see everythin' I think. I can't put Face in danger.
But Jackson seemed preoccupied with making sure Murdock was securely restrained on the cot. "The government didn't spend all that time and money on training you to have you waste away on a psychiatric unit or engage in activities that would get you killed outside of the line of duty."
"Yeah, well, nice t' know my government values me so much," Murdock muttered.
Jackson's eyes narrowed as he worked at tightening the wrist and ankle restraints. He didn't respond until he was satisfied. "I know you'll be willing to cooperate with us now. Your Miss Allen will be very thankful if you do."
The pilot forced his expression to be impassive but he knew if Jackson could sense his sudden increased heart rate, he would know he struck pay dirt with his choice of words.
"She would be the firs' t' tell me t' tell you t' go t' hell."
"You know your problem?" His cheeks reddening with anger, Jackson grabbed Murdock by the chin and forced him to make eye contact. "You want to know? You're always trying to do what's right and not what's good for your country."
"Who're you t' say anythin' 'bout what's good for yer country?" Murdock spat. He made his hands into fists but he could do nothing else. For several long seconds the two men glared at each other until the pilot turned his head to the wall in frustrated resignation.
I've gotta do whatever they ask. Got no choice s' long as they got Amy.
"Doctor Stafford will be responsible for retraining you in the finer aspects of remote viewing. I will sit in as an observer. I'm sure you haven't forgotten how it feels to transcend time and space, have you?" Colonel Jackson paused at the doorway, a smirk on his face. "Don't go away. The doctor and I will be right back to begin your reorientation lessons." His look grew more malicious. "Oh, and thanks for volunteering."
oooooo
"I have never been so poorly treated by my own countrymen in my life. I am an American citizen and this is still the United States, not the USSR." Face hoped his indignant protests were enough to convince these soldiers.
Leaving the patrol jeep, the two guards half-dragged the handcuffed conman through a set of double doors and down a hallway.
"Strong silent types, huh?" he blustered as they unlocked the handcuffs and pushed him into a windowless room with three chairs and one long table. They let him keep the specimen bag but locked the door.
Just to keep up the act, he pounded on the door with a clenched fist. "You can't do this to me. Get me my lawyer. I have rights."
If I'm correct, there's a guard posted outside that door and they're in the process of informing the highest ranking officer of my arrival.
He put his ear to the door but heard absolutely nothing.
"Okay. So now what?" Face said to the walls around him.
I really shouldn't do that. I'm starting to act like Murdock.
Watching the door, the Lieutenant removed the tracking locator from his pocket and slowly rotated in position. The small locator indicated the mini-camera and its hidden tracking device was somewhere further down the hallway. But the device was moving away from him.
If Amy or Murdock have the camera, they're being moved. If I can figure out a way of getting out of this room, maybe I can find one of them and get whoever it is out of here.
The sound of a set of footsteps at the door made him quickly bury the device in his pants pocket and sit down at the table. As he did, his fingertips brushed the button tracking device on his shirt, sewn on so that Hannibal and B. A. would know where he was in the facility.
He folded his hands in his lap and pasted a frightened tight-lipped smile on his face. Hunching his shoulders slightly and crossing his legs at the ankles with knees apart, he made himself appear as timid and unassuming as he could.
I just hope whoever questions me does what Hannibal thinks they'll do.