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 20 Run To Freedom
Stafford noted Jackson's pleased reaction to the information he had been told about the neuroelectromagnetic device now implanted in the auditory cortex of Murdock's brain.
I hated to reveal any of this to him but how long was I going to be able to cover up the surgery I did? But he doesn't need to know all of what I'm doing. I don't want to lose control of my research again.
Even though it meant the doctor would not have to proceed in as much secrecy as he originally thought, he wasn't sure about Jackson. The man had an evil aura around him.
It was especially pronounced whenever they spoke together about Captain Murdock or the discontinued CIA programs with which Murdock and the military man had been involved. Phoenix, Midnight Climax, MKULTRA, Stargate, programs which were either discontinued completely because of Congressional pressure or taken below ground to be continued under new names and increased secrecy. New programs like Project Silent Arrow were based on the building blocks of the old research.
It was necessary for a war-weary and government-wary public to never totally know the nature of such work. What Stafford was doing was near or on the cutting edge in the mid-80s.
This will make my name equal to that of Oppenheimer in the annals of weapons development.
"Just think, Colonel. A device a single centimeter in length could possibly modify a person's behavior and attitudes and prompt him to do things for the good of our country that he might never have considered doing before." The doctor used his hands to emphasize main points as he enthused about his subject.
Jackson's eyes gleamed as he nodded, encouraging the scientist to divulge everything about the project. "Captain Murdock could be programmed to do something he wouldn't ordinarily volunteer to do? Is that what you're trying to say?"
"Those are the types of possibilities I want to begin to explore. Before I was taken from my research, I exposed a chimpanzee to a highly painful experience. I forced it to hold onto a hot burner until blisters formed on the palms of its hands. I placed it in a cage with a burner and it cowered against the bars on the opposite side, afraid to approach the source of its pain. Then I implanted the device, and through a electromagnetic frequency beamed at the monkey, was able to influence it not only to draw near to the burner but also to touch it repeatedly. Even as its hide burned."
The technology was showing promise and those fools in Washington couldn't see the possibilities, damn them!
"Do you think Number 47, Captain Murdock, could be programmed to crash the plane Cazador is on?" Jackson narrowed his eyes.
A flicker of alarm passed across the doctor's face. He widened his eyes, then frowned.
No! If we do that, I'll lose the device and any testimonial to my work.
Doctor Stafford's hesitancy told the Colonel all he wanted to know. "M . . . maybe. I won't know until I try a smaller target goal that means something personally to the test subject. It has to be something he values, something that he would protect to the point of sacrificing himself. He has to be willing to destroy it without questions or remorse when given the order."
The scientist flinched at the smirk that appeared on the Colonel's face. "I believe I know just the target."
"But if Number 47 eliminates Cazador through a plane crash, won't he die, too?"
Jackson examined the doctor's horrified expression through cold black eyes. He knew the only reason Stafford protested was to protect the device his test subject carried in his brain. He did not really care what happened to Captain Murdock.
Jackson waved off the doctor's concern. "We're not ready for that part of the project so don't worry. We must continue to use the remote viewing sessions to gather the information we need on Cazador, his headquarters in San Antonio and the munitions storage site in Gema Escondida. Murdock must be trained to 'see' the present, to read Cazador's mind from a distance, to influence him. Once we have all of that, we'll be ready to prepare him to obey the program we plant in his mind."
Doctor Stafford began to regret the information he had given the Colonel. He realized too late Jackson's intentions.
This is less about getting rid of Cazador than it is about eliminating Captain Murdock. I pity that man for the amount of hatred Jackson has for him.
A knock at the door distracted both men. "Enter."
Rollag, wide-eyed and breathing hard, stood in the open doorway. "Doctor Stafford, you told me to let you know if I had any difficulty in getting Number 47 to Laboratory Two. The test subject isn't responding. He seems to be having some kind of psychotic episode."
"Damn it all!" Jackson's hands balled into fists. "Are you sure he isn't faking?"
The Colonel brushed past the assistant without waiting for an answer. Doctor Stafford followed, signalling Rollag to come with him.
As they neared Room 14, the wheelchair Rollag had brought to transport the test subject to the lab flew from the open door and crashed against the opposite wall.
With a earsplitting howl, Murdock bolted from the room, all of his strength behind his movement. He grappled Private Florey around his hips and knocked him to the floor. Wrestling the M-16 from the kid's hands, he scrambled to his feet, then backed down the hall on unsteady legs.
His harsh breaths were audible from several feet. The white bandage around his head drooped over one eye. He viciously tore it off and threw it on the floor.
"Stay 'way!" he growled. "Ya ain' gonna hurt me no more." He continued to edge away, sweeping the weapon back and forth in front of him to prevent any from advancing.
Reaching a passageway that opened to his left, he glanced quickly back at them before disappearing. His receding footsteps told them he was running as fast as he could away from them.
Jackson cursed at the young Private and drew his own pistol. "We've got to get him before he reaches the electrical plant service doors. Call ahead, Stafford, and have some men positioned outside in case he manages to break through. But tell them to subdue him, not injure him. He must be brought back here alive."
As Jackson and Florey made their way down the hall and turned down the passageway Murdock had taken, Stafford stared at Rollag. He licked his lips, still in shock over the incident that had just happened. "Get Laboratory Two ready. When Number 47 is recaptured, he will have to be sedated."
He limped quickly toward an office with a phone.
oooooo
From the instant he was left alone in the room, the door jammed open by the wheelchair, Murdock forced his panicked mind to think. His surroundings shifted from sterile white plaster and tile to the rough hewn timbers and dirt floor of his grandparents' barn in Sour Lake and back again.
Ain' no time t' be wonderin' what's real 'n' what's not. Pa'll be back any minute 'n' then I'll be in for it.
He noticed movement in the hallway, someone with a gun.
One o' Pa's buddies tryin' t' keep me from runnin'?But that ain' no huntin' rifle.
He weighed his options and decided on the element of surprise. Continuing to mutter "Don' hurt me, don' hurt me" to be sure to arouse no suspicion from the gunman, he crept toward the door.
The guard walked past without looking in and Murdock made his move. Kicking the wheelchair backward as hard as he could, he followed it through the door. The howl that escaped from his mouth surprised him.
Where'd that come from?
He hadn't intended to yell like that.
Have I lost my mind?
No time to think about it. He had to escape. Performing a perfect tackle on the young man, he grabbed the weapon and turned to face his enemies. There were more of them.
If they choose t' rush me, I'm dead.
He backed away. Even if his Pa wasn't among these men, he instinctively knew he was in trouble if they caught him.
What's wrong with my legs? I gotta move, gotta get 'way 'n' feels like they've been hollowed out 'n' filled with cement.
He concentrated on aiming the rifle and forcing his feet to obey the commands of his mind. Something white and gauzy half-covered his right eye. Reaching up, he tore the blindfold away and dropped it to the floor. Step by step he moved backwards down the hall, praying it did not dead end on him.
"Stay 'way! Ya ain' gonna hurt me no more." He heard the ferocity in his tone and hoped his captors would obey.
Jus' stay put! Don' wanna shoot nobody.
A hallway opened up on his left, one that seemed deserted. With one more wary look at the small group staring at him, he gripped the gun close to his bare chest and darted in the new direction. As his pace increased to a sprint, he found his legs losing the heavy feeling they had before.
God, I hope there's a door t' the outside down here. If there ain' . . .
Well, he didn't want to think about that. He kept his focus on escape and if he was recaptured, at least he would have given it a fighting effort.
oooooo
"Hey! Someone help! He's having a heart attack! Oh God!" Face yelled with a convincing amount of panic in his voice.
Hannibal slumped in his chair, facing the door so his uncuffed hands he held behind him were not visible to anyone coming in. The Lieutenant waited behind the door.
"If he dies, Colonel Lynch will have someone's head on a platter! Colonel Smith is a very important prisoner."
Without changing his position, Hannibal squinted with one eye at his Lieutenant. Face gave his CO a dazzling smile and continued his outburst.
"Colonel! Someone help me! He's dying!"
Keys jangled as they were fit in the lock. Moments later the door opened and the first of two guards hurried toward the man in the chair. The second guard hardly made it two steps into the room before Face had the handcuff chain around his neck.
He smashed his opponent's head against the inside of the door, slamming it closed. As the guard collapsed to the floor, Face deftly removed the M-16 from his shoulder. He turned it on the other man grappling with a suddenly revived Colonel.
"Need any help, Hannibal? Or have you got that one?" Face smirked. Hannibal brought his fist back and slugged the Private lying on the floor. The young guard's eyes closed as he went limp like the other soldier.
"No problems at all, Lieutenant." Hannibal rolled off the guard and sat up, his breathing a little more labored than he would have wanted to admit. "Now let's secure these two, find Murdock and get out of here. I've visited this installation long enough and I'm sure our Captain is more than ready to leave."
The Colonel divested the other guard of his weapon. Together, they handcuffed the two guards back to back, the handcuff chains linked together, and gagged them. They left the room and turned toward the last known location of their friend and team mate.