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 18 Denied
"What do you mean, the request was denied?" Colonel Lynch's face grew ruddy with frustration as he exploded at the man behind the desk.
The quartermaster at the Bicycle Lake Army airfield leveled a pair of bored green eyes at the indignant officer. Looking down at a sheet of paper in front of him, he scanned it once more before handing it to Lynch. "Read it for yourself, sir."
The Colonel skimmed the DD Form 1155 before letting out a heavy sigh. "Do I at least get two MPs to accompany me to Granite Peak?"
The desk sergeant shrugged. "You can have two MPs. You just can't have a bird to get there."
Muttering to himself, Lynch dropped the sheet back onto the desk and strode to the door.
"Have a pleasant drive, sir," the quartermaster dispassionately added before addressing more important documents on the desk in front of him.
The Colonel growled and allowed the door to slam behind him.
oooooo
A knock diverted Jackson's attention from the smirking Colonel and his Lieutenant. "Enter."
The sergeant who opened the door quickly approached Jackson and bent to whisper in his ear.
"Damn!" The Colonel frowned and dismissed the messenger with a wave. His gaze settled on his two prisoners. "Sergeant Emerson informs me that your Colonel Lynch will not arrive for another nine hours. Evidently, you aren't on the high priority list."
Smith smiled and murmured, "Well, it wasn't for a lack of effort on our part."
"Hannibal!" Face squirmed in his chair, shooting an anxious look at his CO. Hannibal's grin widened in response.
Colonel Jackson stood and walked to the door. "I can't afford to stay with you for all that time. Your Captain Murdock's preparation for his mission can't wait that long."
He cast one more analytical look at the two handcuffed men. "Don't think you can fool the guards again and get away from Granite Peak on foot. Target grids are positioned all around the mountain. You might never see the unexploded ordnance that kills you. Enjoy your stay, gentlemen."
"Oh, we will. By the way, for supper I prefer a nice medium rare top sirloin. How about you, Face?" The Colonel glanced at his Lieutenant.
He shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as his CO. "Well, I kind of like mine well done."
Hannibal got a sparkle in his eye. "Maybe a baked potato on the side and some cheesecake for dessert?" The Colonel beamed at his captor.
Without another glance, Jackson left the room.
oooooo
When Murdock's senses started to come back to him, he found himself lying on his right side staring straight ahead. Things were too blurry at first for him to recognize his surroundings.
Am I in my room at the V. A.? B. A.'s van? Where the hell am I?
His muscles were tingling, twitching, coming alive again, as the ketamine wore off. He could no more prevent the aftermath of spasms from twisting his arms and legs into cramped unnatural positions than he could control the weather.
Not gonna be flyin' anywhere anymore if I can't get my body t' listen t' my brain.
Flying. That reminded him of the angels. They had disappeared a while ago but he knew he'd been talking to them. The angels had lifted him with them up to the ceiling and they all watched a doctor do some head surgery.
Guy on the table looked familiar. Too hard to tell. Everythin' kept ripplin' 'n' movin' in slow motion.
The heavenly beings that had been talking to him disappeared a while ago. Not even Billy was speaking to him anymore. He felt so alone.
He blinked several times to remove what seemed like a layer of grit between his eyelids and the surface of his eyes. They burned as if they had been open for an hour staring at the sun.
The walls, tall hedges of elephant grass, swayed in the breeze. They towered above him on three sides and changed into every hue of color imaginable.
But how can grass be anythin' but green or light brown?
The only way to get out of the rippling kaleidoscopic tunnel had to be behind him somewhere.
The flecks of gray on the patterned tile floor marched like tiny ants past the legs of the bed on which he lay. He moved his arm to touch them, to make them stand still. His hand jerked once and fell to the floor like a dead weight.
Well, that didn' work out too good. Rest fer a while, then try 'gain.
When he found his muscles were beginning to respond better to his silent commands, he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. His mind spun in a confused array of pulsating bright-colored dots and lines.
If I'm gonna get outta here, I gotta move.
Standing up was a tricky maneuver. The first time he attempted it, his legs wobbled and gave out, and he collapsed back onto the mattress. When he finally managed to get his feet under him, he stretched his arms out in front of him to sweep the elephant grass walls away. The knife-like blades sent hot needles of pain into his skin.
I'm gonna bleed out all over the place if I don' stand still. But I ain' in Nam. This can't be real. None o' it's real. Is it?
He brought a weak trembling hand up to his face. It was then he discovered the bandage above his ear. Frowning, he traced the outline of the gauze pad with his fingertips. The bandage holding it in place wrapped around his head.
'Lectroshock? No, can't be. I know what that feels like, and this ain' it. 'Sides, they don' put a bandage on your head afterward.
He tried to pick through what he remembered of the past several hours but it was all like shattered pieces of a window. Fitting the individual shards together was not that easy. Then, suddenly, a thought bombarded his mind that would explain the bandage. But it seemed too barbaric to be real. He remembered the sound of a drill close to his ear and pressure against his skull.
Not like a dentist's drill. Like somethin' ya'd use to make a hole in a wall 'r' somethin'.
He prodded at the bandage and the area around it, noting the swelling. That in itself was evidence that what he thought had happened was based in some sort of reality.
Angels with power drills? Maybe B. A. fin'ly got fed up with my jibber-jabber 'n' tried t' fix my head. Wonder if he got it wired right.
But he knew that wasn't what happened either. Bright images emerged from the dark corners of his mind and burst into sight briefly before crumpling in on themselves like photographs burning in a fire.
A man in a white lab coat with short gray hair, grooves in a concrete block wall rhythmically flashing by. Sounds and feelings accompanied the visuals: paralysis, restraints tightened on his body, the plunking of water in a steel sink, the squeaky wheels on a gurney.
He covered his ears and shut his eyes to stop all of it but it continued to torment him.
A jangling metallic sound and an amplified click from behind him alerted him to someone unlocking a door and opening it. The door shut again much too loudly.
Or did whatever they gave me make everythin' seem huge and loud?
Someone was in the room, if it was a room, with him. That someone would have answers. He tried to turn quickly toward the noise and threw out his arms to steady himself.
Colonel Jackson caught him as he pitched forward, his knees buckling.
Gave me somethin', makes me feel like I been on an all night bender. Can' even keep my feet under me.
His eyes focused in on who had come in the door and was now holding him upright."You! What'd ya let 'im do t' me?" Murdock slurred into the man's face.
The Colonel pushed him backwards, forcing him into a sitting position on the bed. As he peered up at him, the pilot sensed Jackson's surprise at seeing the bandage.
He doesn' know what that quack did t' me either. How 'bout that? He ain' in as much control o' things 'round here than he'd like t' think.
"You're hardly in a position to ask questions, Captain." He could sense Jackson scrutinizing him from where he stood.
He's tryin' t' read my thoughts. Well, how 'bout this one, Frankie boy? My friends're gonna come get me 'n' when they do, yer whole project's gonna go down the tubes 'long with yer rank 'n' military career.
"I wouldn't count on that. In fact, I have two of them handcuffed in a room in this facility. They're waiting for a Colonel Lynch to come and take them away. And after a few more sessions your mind will be more focused on the mission for which you've been chosen than on the safety and welfare of your friends." The Colonel chuckled at the enraged expression on Murdock's face when he realized Jackson could read his thoughts so well.
"Why'd ya come in here? T' tell me that? T' gloat over me 'cause you think ya got me 'tween a rock 'n' a hard place?" The pilot let his voice raise.
Maybe Face 'n' Hann'bal can get some idea where I am.
"But you know they can't do anything about it even if they do pinpoint where you are. They are fugitives who are going to take a long trip to the nearest military prison to be tried. And there's nothing you can do about that either." Jackson paused. "I came to see if you were ready for the next session, to see if you were coherent and still cooperative."
Murdock gripped the edge of the bed until his knuckles whitened. Then he got a rebellious glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. He laughed like Woody Woodpecker and cleansed his mind of everything but the manic little bird in the blue and white suit.
So Woody Woodpecker reads the sign on the window o' The Seville Barbershop, Tony Figaro, Proprietor . . .
He had the whole cartoon memorized. All he had to do was make his thoughts like a show on a television screen and say the words in his head. No thoughts about his team members or remote viewing. Nothing but pure Woody.
Jackson took the four steps required to bring him to the bed where his test subject sat. Gripping the pilot's chin in one hand, he lifted Murdock's head until they made eye contact. "You forget. I know you aren't as crazy as you try to make everyone believe. If you can remember something like that cartoon word for word, Captain, then you're ready for the next session. I need to confer with Doctor Stafford and then we'll send Rollag to bring you to Laboratory Two."
Jackson's glare told the pilot the next hour or so was going to be very unpleasant. The Colonel removed his hand and left the room, locking the door behind him.
He left Murdock to his dread over what was to come.