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 17 Stafford's Triumph
"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." Doctor Stafford nodded toward Face and Hannibal. "Colonel Jackson, I should go and make sure Captain Murdock is ready for the next session." Impatiently, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his lab coat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He noted with a small degree of nervousness the venomous look the younger man gave him.
I couldn't allow them to take my test subject away from me. Just wish Jackson would let me go on about my business. I have something I need to do with our friend the Captain and I have to have enough time to do it. Hopefully about four hours.
The Colonel and his Lieutenant sat with their hands cuffed behind their backs in a room furnished with a table and three chairs. The piercing scrutiny Smith gave him made the scientist uncomfortable. He stared down at the floor rather than to make eye contact.
"You do know who you helped us capture, don't you, Stafford?" Colonel Jackson cast a smug look at the two prisoners before turning his gaze on the doctor.
"Friends of the test subject," he answered and shrugged. Jackson's derisive chuckle made his temper flare for a moment.
Damn cocky bastard. Why should I care as long as they didn't succeed in helping our man escape?
"Have you heard about the three fugitives who escaped Fort Bragg back in '72, the ones the military have wanted to get their hands on for close to eleven years now?"
"I don't keep up on the news in your department, Colonel Jackson." Stafford anxiously glanced at the door.
"Well, we've just captured two of those three men. This is Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith and Lieutenant Templeton 'Face' Peck. The Captain was their pilot in Nam."
Doctor Stafford saw the twinkle return to the eye of the white-haired man but Smith said nothing as he gave his Lieutenant a smirk of amusement. The scientist noticed the other man return a dismayed look.
That Colonel isn't worried at all about any of this. It's almost like he thinks he's Houdini and the handcuffs are only part of his vanishing act.
"I've already made a call and alerted the proper authorities. A Colonel Lynch is due to arrive in a few hours to take them into custody."
The smile on the face of the captive Colonel broadened to a mischievous grin. "So nice of you to make the arrangements for us to meet with our good friend Francis. I enjoy watching him pick the gravel out of his teeth when we escape."
The handcuffed man beside him nervously cleared his throat.
Jackson ignored the comment. "That means I may have to have you proceed without me. I'm not letting these two out of my sight until Lynch shows up."
Stafford rejoiced inside. That would give him the time he needed for the special thing he wanted to do to Murdock to make him more valuable as a weapon and surveillance tool.
"I have a very special set of coordinates I want you to use in the next session." The Colonel took a notepad and pen from one pocket and jotted down a group of numbers.
Taking the offered piece of paper, Stafford nodded. "I have a few things to do before that next session but I should be able to start it later today."
"Good. I plan to do two sessions a day until Captain Murdock is ready. You're dismissed, Doctor."
The scientist hurried from the room. Jackson just presented him with a window of opportunity. He intended to make sure he used the time wisely.
If I can find Mister Rollag and have him prepare Laboratory One, we can proceed.
oooooo
With Rollag sent to the lab, Stafford approached Room 14 with an almost euphoric anticipation.
"I may need your assistance with the test subject, Private Nelson." He placed one hand in his pocket and felt for the vial of ketamine. When his fingers closed around it, he smiled.
Too delicate of an operation to use anything but ketamine. And if we want to have him ready for a later session this evening, we can't knock him out too much.
Nelson opened the door and ushered the doctor in.
Murdock sat on the floor, his arms clutching his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth and staring in front of him at the wall. For all purposes, the man seemed to be mired in a flashback so horrible he could do nothing but curl himself into a tight ball to protect himself.
Stafford clenched his teeth and cursed Jackson again under his breath.
I should never have left the facility. I hope he hasn't damaged the test subject.
He approached the Captain and squatted beside him, reaching to place a hand on his shoulder. Murdock's eyes didn't even track the movement.
"Captain Murdock" was all he got out before the man on the floor reacted to the touch. With a terrified howl, Murdock swung his elbow toward the doctor's head and connected.
Stafford fell to the floor, his glasses flying from his face into the corner. He grasped at his nose and swore. "Son of a bitch!"
The pilot released his knees and sprang to his feet. Inching his way backwards to the wall, he lowered himself into a defensive crouch.
Privates Nelson and Florey leveled their weapons at Murdock.
His back to the corner, the pilot scanned both soldiers and the doctor with an animalistic fear. His muscles quivered with unpredictable alarm at the sight of the armed men.
Stafford wiped the blood from his nose with one white sleeve as he reached for his glasses. "That one was my fault. Don't shoot. He doesn't know what he's doing right now."
All I'll need is for one of these young pups to get trigger-happy.
Small whimpers escaped from Murdock. He seemed to be waiting for their next move.
"Captain Murdock, you're safe. No one is going to hurt you," the doctor murmured as he edged slowly toward the terrified man.
Take your time. Don't scare him.
With a vehement scream, Murdock leapt to his feet and bolted toward the door.
"Grab him! Don't let him go!" Stafford removed the syringe and vial from his pockets and prepared the dose.
With quick and brutal efficiency, Florey and Nelson grabbed the pilot and pinned his arms behind his back, slamming him face first into the wall beside the door. While Murdock snarled at them and savagely struggled to free himself, the doctor approached.
"Hold him still!" he snapped at the two guards.
Stafford jabbed the hypodermic into Murdock's bicep and depressed the plunger, then backed away as quickly as he could.
The captive continued his frantic kicking and howling for almost two minutes, slowly losing the use of his muscles and voice.
At the three minute mark, Murdock was physically incapable of moving or speaking at all. Pushing him onto a gurney, the two soldiers held him while the doctor tightened restraints around his wrists, ankles, thighs and chest.
When he was finished, Stafford bent to look into Murdock's wide open barely blinking eyes. Satisfied the ketamine was both providing pain relief and paralyzing the patient's muscles, he straightened and held open the door.
"To Laboratory One, gentlemen."
oooooo
The sudden muffled scream and subsequent howling from down the hall brought Face to his feet. In desperation, he tried to launch himself over the table at Colonel Jackson, disregarding the rifle the corporal standing at the door abruptly pointed at him.
"Lieutenant! Take your seat." Hannibal's sharp orders were accompanied by an icy glare at their captor. Face did as he was instructed under protest.
"What the hell are you doing to him?" the Lieutenant shouted.
"That's my question, too, Colonel." Hannibal continued to coldly appraise the man's expression across from him.
He noticed the shadow of surprised unease Jackson himself had upon hearing the sound. Just as quickly he regained the sneer he had been sporting ever since he sat down in the chair opposite the two prisoners.
"Doctor Stafford has been known to utilize unorthodox methods of ensuring a test subject remains compliant. Don't worry. We need your friend alive and able to pilot a plane." Jackson said, a grim smile on his face.
But after that, he is expendable. No need for these two friends of his to know that, though.
Looking at their sober expressions, Jackson was fairly certain they already suspected as much. And that could mean trouble if they managed to escape.
oooooo
Stafford led the way into Laboratory One. Once Murdock was lying on his back on the soft padding of the operating table, Rollag fastened the table's restraints around his wrists, lower legs, waist and upper abdomen. Stafford turned the pilot's head so that the right side of his face rested on the padded surface of the table.
The lab assistant shaved a small section of hair from Murdock's scalp an inch above the top of his ear.
"We have only about forty minutes to complete this surgery before the muscular paralysis and analgesic effects of the drug begin to wear off." The doctor checked the bit on the cranial perforator drill while Rollag cleaned the area he had shaved and and applied betadine surgical scrub to the skin.
"Ready?" Stafford asked his assistant. Rollag nodded. With a small smirk, the scientist dipped his head to look the pilot in the eyes and repeated, "Ready?"
He didn't wait for an answer. There would be none because of the ketamine. The brown eyes stared vacantly at nothing. Chuckling and straightening again, he accepted the scalpel from Rollag and began the procedure.
Making a neat 'X' incision, Stafford gestured with his head for his assistant to wet down the area with a saline solution and use suction. Together, they installed tiny Raney clips to the incised scalp layers to stop the bleeding.
With a periosteal elevator, Rollag peeled back the scalp tissue and placed retractors to hold the galea, the fibrous tissue nearest the skull, away from the bone.
Stafford worked carefully with the drill to create the half-inch diameter burr hole he needed. Rollag provided constant irrigation of the area to prevent the drill from overheating.
"I'll know when I'm just about through the skull. Can't put too much pressure on this or I'll rupture the dura and cause damage to the auditory cortex itself." Seconds later he breathed in and exhaled slowly as he lifted the bone flap from the drilled hole, exposing the brain. Rollag took the small bit of bone and put it aside to be inserted over the hole when the procedure was finished.
With a cheery tone, Stafford said to the pilot, "There you are. All I have to do is place this neuroelectromagnetic implant, replace the bone flap and stitch you up and you'll be as good as new." Peering over at the quarter-inch long device and nodding to himself, Stafford added, "In fact, you'll be better than new. I guarantee it."
oooooo
Colonel Francis Lynch tapped out a quick staccato on his leg with the fingers of his right hand as the military police vehicle sped along I-15 toward the Bicycle Lake Army Airfield near Barstow. He hoped his request for a helicopter or at least a small plane and two MPs would be granted by the time he got there.
Am I the only one who believes Smith and his two men still need to pay for the Bank of Hanoi job?
He sighed as he recalled the conversation he had with his immediate superior.
"This has become a personal vendetta, hasn't it, Lynch? I'll put in the request but I'm not sure this trip will be regarded as sufficiently high priority to warrant putting you on an Army plane or chopper to escort these two back here. I'm sure the MPs you requested will be granted, but it will be a harder sell for the aircraft."
Captain Stewart glanced over at the Colonel as he fidgeted in his seat. "We should be to the airfield within the hour."
Lynch nodded and stared out at the passing desert scenery, his mind focused on the last sight he had of Smith, the blue eyes taunting him to try to capture and arrest him.
And arrest you I will. If we have to drive all the way to Granite Peak and all the way back with no stops, I will. Count on it, Smith.