Every Thought Captive
AN: This chapter is very long and I apologize ahead of time for it. I wanted to show you what was going through Murdock's mind in the previous two chapters and maybe explain why he is acting the way he is.
Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.
Chapter 28 Battlefield of the Mind
From the moment Murdock entered Laboratory Two, he knew he would soon be leaving the Granite Peak installation. It was one of those gut feelings. He didn't know with whom or how he would leave. Just that his time here was at an end and he was ready for the mission Jackson and the United States government wanted him to accomplish.
A man in a white lab coat watched him from the tiny monitoring room. He sat up as if surprised to see him and glanced at something on the floor out of view.
"Captain Murdock?"
The man said something more, his words directed to the floor. Every nerve prickled as the pilot recognized two things.
That's the doc that's been workin' to help Jackson prepare me for th' mission. 'N' he ain' 'lone. I got a bad feelin' 'bout this.
He had to say something to prevent the doctor from being killed by whoever was hiding under the table in the monitoring room.
"I 'member you. You're the doctor been workin' with Colonel Jackson." It was the first thing that came to his mind.
Well, it's a start. Maybe if I act confused, I can somehow confuse whoever's holdin' the doc hostage, too. Then rescue th' doc through th' element o' surprise. It's worked b'fore.
"Doc?" He slowly approached the door to the booth, making his voice sound as near to being disoriented as he could manage.
"Captain Murdock, how are you feeling?" The doctor stared directly at him, scanning him for further mental distress or injury. He wished he could reassure the man that he was not as unstable as he had to make himself appear.
Th' Company was good at teachin' me how t' keep the enemy off guard.
"Feeling?" He paused and thought about that for a moment for extra effect. "Confused."
Ain' th' truth though. I never been so clear as I am right now.
"How can I help you be less confused?"
But I guess I'm convincin' th' doc. I gotta get th' guy whose holdin' 'im flushed outta 'is hidey hole 'n' inta th' open.
He kept the confusion in his tone. He was beginning to feel weary from the double remote viewing sessions and this act he had to put on. "I . . . I don' know."
"If you were able to talk to your friends, would that help?" The scientist glanced down at his captor once more before rising to his feet and taking a step toward the door.
Aha! I knew it. They're here 'n' they're threatenin' my doctor. Jackson tol' me 'bout 'em. Peeled back my mind 'n' showed me th' memories I'd forgotten. All those things that didn' add up 'til he showed me.
"Friends?"
Must be Colonel Smith 'n' Lieutenant Peck. Couldn' pry Baracus inta that small space with a crowbar 'n' ten pounds o' butter.
"The men you transported over in Vietnam. Your team mates."
As if I didn' know that. But team mates? After what they did, the stuff they tol' Trình so I'd be taken 'stead o' them, leavin' me t' rot in Nam 'n' then in that psych ward? Shit, no.
But he had to keep up the pretense. "They're here, ain' they."
Stafford nodded. He continually looked down at the floor under the monitoring table. "They're here. They want me to help them get out of here with you."
Yeah, I bet they do.
The two men rose to their feet from their hiding place in the monitoring booth. He knew they were armed but with M-16s?
Those can do a heckuva lotta damage t' me 'n' the doc if I don' cooperate.
All thoughts of getting away from them disappeared.
How could I o' been so stupid?
He wished Colonel Jackson had set a guard outside his room to prevent him from walking into this situation.
A voice whispered in his mind. It was so soft he stepped back toward the door and focused on it instead of the scene in front of him. If he was lucky, it would be Jackson, letting him know what he should do next. But it was Billy. In the past, he always trusted Billy to speak the truth. Billy was in Heaven and those in Heaven weren't supposed to lie.
Hannibal 'n' Face're yer friends, yer good friends, big brother. They ain' gonna hurt nobody that doesn' deserve it.
On the tail end of that message came another, this time in Jackson's voice. If those two men are such good friends, why did they do what they did and why are they holding those rifles on you?
Now he was becoming confused. He analyzed the Colonel from a distance, trying to balance what the two voices told him. Billy had never been wrong before but Jackson had hand-selected him for this important project and these two men stood in the way of it.
'N' my head feels like it's gonna 'splode.
Until he could get rid of the migraine and think things through, he would have to go with Jackson's instructions and his own military training. He drew himself up to attention, back straight, feet side by side, face forward, eyes focused ahead. He gave the Colonel his sharpest salute and waited for his response. "Colonel Smith, suh."
The older man in front of him seemed to scrutinize him before releasing him from the formal posture. "At ease, Captain."
He sensed Lieutenant Peck's approach and stiffened again but this time because of the memories of betrayal.
"Murdock, buddy, we're going to get you out of here. Did they hurt you in any way?"
Through the ear bud still in his right ear, the pilot heard the tranquil but melancholy strains of the second movement of Prokofiev's Lieutenant Kijé suite. At the same time, Jackson's voice warned, This man's a manipulator. Remember all the times he used you to get something in return? All the times he got you in trouble with something he did?
And this man had the balls to pretend concern and flash him a smile? As if Peck's nearness was responsible, the pain in his head sharpened.
He gave the Lieutenant a suspicious glance and pulled his arm away from his grasp. "I'm fine, Lieutenant. Jus' fine. If Doc here can give me somethin' for this headache, I'll be right as rain."
When the other man stepped away and muttered, "Just checking," he relaxed again.
Jackson sent another telepathic order to him. Go with them. There will be no road blocks. When you get to Las Vegas, I'll give you your next set of instructions.
He wasn't comfortable being with these men. At least the doctor was there to help him if they tried to detract him from his job.
Jackson's voice reassured him. I won't be with you physically but I will be with you in thought. If they start to try to brainwash you, I'll give you mental support. Trust me.
Murdock brought his attention back to the two men with the weapons. He had to go through with this so he might as well offer himself up as a sacrifice to the cause.
"How d' we do this? Gonna be a hard sell t' get me dressed like a POW and you guys outta here without someone askin' questions. 'Less ya march us out like hostages."
Which we are, no matter what ya say t' deny it.
The Colonel and Lieutenant spoke quietly to each other and came to a decision.
"If it gets us out of here. Okay. Hands up and behind your heads. Face, you take the doctor and I'll take Murdock."
The Captain felt the Colonel's gun barrel in the small of his back and panicked for a brief moment. He couldn't stop his muscles from tensing as he obeyed his captor's orders.
Would he? Would he shoot me if I tried anythin' t' 'scape?
"Relax, Captain," the Colonel whispered. "You know I'm not going to hurt you."
"Do I?" Murdock swallowed as he was led out into the corridor after Peck and Stafford.
The bright images were starting their own slide show in his mind again. The picture they painted of these two men was a mixed bag of betrayal and comaraderie and Murdock couldn't figure out which images to trust. His mind was a battlefield and he desperately needed a stop in the action to sort things out.
He was barely aware of his feet shuffling toward the double doors of the facility as intent upon his headache and thoughts as he was. Then they were standing beside a jeep and the Colonel gave another order.
"Get under the tarp in the back and I'll ride up front with Stafford."
Peck lifted the canvas and gestured for him to duck under it first. He would have to spend several minutes in close proximity to this man. Deciding to make the best of it, he curled up close behind the front passenger's seat. He shivered as Peck hid behind the driver's side seat and dragged the tarp over both of them.
"Not the most comfortable way to leave but we'll get you out of here, buddy." Peck muttered the assurance to him as the engine started. He felt the Lieutenant pat him on his back and shrank from the touch.
The darkness made the image slide show in his mind increase in speed until he thought he would go crazy with the memories that bombarded him.
After a short stop and a few muffled words passed back and forth between the sentry at the gate and the doctor, Murdock knew they left the facility behind them. He waited for Peck to lift the tarp off them.
As soon as he did, the Captain claimed the extreme right hand side of the back bench seat and kept his hands from twitching by holding them tightly in his lap. He stared at the terrain on his right with the cold impassive expression of a CIA operative.
He tried again to reconcile the words Billy and Jackson had projected to his mind back in the laboratory. The voices were still clamoring for attention in his head.
He didn't notice exactly when the doctor pulled off the road they were on until the Lieutenant placed his hand on his shoulder and said, "God, it's good to have you back with us, buddy."
Is it? Whaddya wanna scam off o' me this time, Peck?
He forced himself to acknowledge the gesture with a nod and eye contact and then returned to scan the distant horizon.
The jeep stopped beside a red convertible parked on the side road they were following.
What now? Shoot th' two o' us out here in th' middle o' nowhere?
Smith gave Peck an order but Murdock sensed the icy blue eyes were focused on him. The command was not directed to him so he ignored it completely.
He heard Peck's frustrated sigh and then the Colonel spoke to both of them. "Being you left the keys with B. A. for safekeeping, you'll have to hot-wire the car, Face. Why don't you see if you can help him, Captain?"
Baracus is somewhere out here? Th' guy that's said he's gonna kill me someday? Bad 'nough I'm gonna hafta watch my back with these two. Now I gotta watch out for th' Big Guy.
He swallowed hard at the mental images that swirled in his brain. B. A.'s fist connecting with his jaw beside a stream. The blow was hard enough to knock him out for quite some time. B. A. tossing him off a boat into the water. B. A.'s hands curling around his neck any number of times. The fingers cutting off his breath, not quite achieving their desired purpose before the Sergeant was forced to release him.
I still provided a valu'ble 'nough service t' these other two that they always stopped 'im from goin' through with it. But what if I ain' useful no more? What then?
He focused his disturbed gaze on the Colonel.
I trusted you 'n' you left me t' rot 'til ya needed me t' do somethin' for ya.
As the images Jackson had shown him loomed in his mind, he found his hostility toward this man growing. He could see from the Colonel's eyes that he realized it.
Then Peck spoke and broke the impasse. "That's alright. I guess I don't need any help. If I don't know by now how to hot-wire a car, you can kick me off the team, Colonel."
But he won't. Kick me off th' team fer bein' crazy sooner 'n he'd kick you off fer forgettin' how t' hot-wire a car.
Murdock waited a few moments after the Lieutenant set to work on the engine before climbing out of the jeep. The front seat of the car was a fairly private place, especially if he shut his eyes and pretended to sleep. Maybe then they would leave him alone for a while to think.
As he leaned his head back against the seat, he felt his arms and legs spasming. Clutching his arms around his upper abdomen didn't work. The tremors continued.
Damned muscles won' settle down. Side 'ffects of the mind stuff I been doin'.
He sensed someone watching his disturbed rest and looked over at the jeep. It was as he expected.
Colonel Smith's gonna keep a close watch on me, keep me from doin' what I gotta do.
Slipping down in the seat, curling his spine and letting the dashboard be a prop for his knees, he tried to avoid Smith's scrutiny. He stared straight ahead at the rental car hood. The doctor and the Colonel were talking to each other in a low mumble that he could not clearly hear. He wished Colonel Jackson had taken the time to teach him how to read what others were thinking when they weren't actively projecting their thoughts his way.
Sure would be useful 'bout now.
He knew they were talking about him.
While focusing his attention on trying to pick up the soft conversation, he jerked when the Lieutenant shut the car hood with a bang. The effect was like one of a large rock being dropped on a smooth water surface, sending huge shudders through his body.
Nerves're real jumpy since the las' session.
The doctor started the jeep engine and Peck slid into the driver's seat of the rental. He smiled and patted Murdock on the knee, his touch making the shudders diminish into shivers that continued to bother him. Peck's words were no more reassuring than his action had been.
"It's okay. Pretty soon we'll meet up with B. A. and Amy and we'll start back to L. A."
Amy? What's she doin' out here middle o' nowhere? 'Less they took her hostage, too.
He spent the rest of the short journey to the road where the black van was parked in attempting to remember. Conflicting images battered his mind again. In one, Amy dangled limply between two ski-masked men in a stairwell. In another, the three men who said they were his friends had Amy in a sparsely furnished room. Her eyes were wide with the terror of knowing she could die soon.
But did they threaten her? God, I don' know what's real 'n' what ain' anymore. Maybe Amy'll be able t' tell me. If they let 'er.
His thoughts were so jumbled he didn't recognize the two vehicles had stopped. He stared out at the scenery of the desert on his right. Jackson's brash voice competed with Billy's softer whisper and both mingled with images that didn't make sense taken all together.
I'm goin' crazy. After all these years of gettin' well, then fakin' a li'l, I'm 'bout t' totally lose it. 'N' I can't stop it.
"Hey, Murdock. Are you alright?" He had focused so much on the battle going on for his sanity that he hadn't noticed where the others were. When he looked up at the woman peering in at him, worry on her pretty face, he wasn't sure who he was seeing.
The face shifted from one with red hair and hazel eyes to brunette with Amy's features to a Vietnamese girl with youthful beauty.
Cyndy, Amy 'r Sky. I don' know who I'm lookin' at.
He closed his eyes and laid his head back to get his bearings.
Jackson's voice assisted him in identifying her. Sky has come to help your knee feel better. You remember how your knee got injured, don't you?
How could he forget? The POW camp guards threw him to the ground. Someone said something to make them angry. Was it him? Colonel Smith had been there right beside him. Did the Colonel say something?
In any event, he was the one punished. It took so little effort to force him down as malnourished as he was. And the raining blows from the rifle butts kept him down. His right knee swelled to twice its normal size after that beating.
It all came back as a flashback so real he was left clutching his knee with the pain he felt. A small whimper came out despite his effort to hold it in.
Someone slipped into the spot beside him, touching him lightly with one hand. Not knowing who it was, he readied himself to either run or fight.
Then he heard it. The voice that had threatened him so many times before with violence.
"What's wrong with th' fool?"
His trembling increased and he stumbled out of the car. He couldn't move very fast with his right knee hurting so badly.
He's comin' after me. He's gonna really do it this time. Or is it Ferret? I don' know anymore. Oh God, I don' know anymore!
"Tôi không có gì để cho bạn biết. Không làm tổn thương tôi. (I have nothing to tell you. Don't hurt me.)"
Wrapping his arms around his abdomen as tightly as he could to protect his organs against the beating, he bowed his head in an attempt to appease whoever it was that wanted to see him suffer.
"Không làm tổn thương tôi. (Don't hurt me.)" He kept his voice soft so he could not be accused of yelling at the guards. Maybe the beating would be light.
But light ain' light when it comes t' the VC or the NVA, is it?
For several seconds he swayed, repeating the words over and over, begging for mercy.
Fingertips, non-calloused and gentle, touched his upper arm. He flinched at first, then relaxed as the fingers stroked his arm lightly. At the same time, a quiet feminine voice soothed, "Whatever happened to you back there, we're here for you. You know that, don't you? We'll see you through it, no matter what it is."
Her voice was familiar. She was speaking English but not the broken English he had taught Sky.
"Please, Murdock? Come back to the car and sit down. B. A. made sure to get out clean clothes and your jacket for when you got back here."
He shuddered.
B. A.'s waitin' fer me. He's got my jacket, prob'ly my cap, too. What's he gonna do? Give me what's mine jus' 'fore he beats me t' a bloody pulp?
Jackson's voice again. He's just waiting for the opportunity to do it. Remember what I showed you.
Almost as soon as Jackson's voice stopped another voice intruded.
"Captain, we have to move. Colonel Lynch will be showing up fairly soon and we have to put some distance between ourselves and this installation."
It was the Colonel and he sounded impatient. He shivered again at the tone Smith was using.
He almost didn't hear the woman's voice respond to his fear or feel her soft caress on his arm. "Shhh. Whatever it is, we'll get through it." He focused on what he thought the team might do to him.
He's gonna leave me out here t' die if I don' go with 'em. What should I do, Colonel Jackson, sir?
He hoped Jackson heard his telepathic cry for help.
Stay out of the Sergeant's way until you get to Las Vegas. Let them get you that far and I'll rescue you from them.
The female put her arm around his waist. He felt her gently squeeze him to herself in a comforting hug, then turn him around to go back the way he came. He was almost relieved when she said, "There now. Let's go sit down and you can get some rest."
He realized she struggled to support his weight as she guided him to his seat. He couldn't help it. The energy of a few moments before when fear of Baracus and the camp guards made him limp away left him as suddenly as it came. He could barely keep his eyes open.
He let her help him to sit down and relaxed against her when she sat beside him. No longer needing to watch for danger, he let his eyes droop and close.
"So tired."
Her arms hugged him to herself and her chin rested on the top of his head. It was so much like what Cyndy used to do when she found him after one of Pa's beatings that he got confused again. He had to exert the effort to turn and see if it was her.
It wasn't.
How'd I manage t' get Sky t' my hooch? She looks so pale. Someone's gotta o' hurt her. But who?
"Sky? Tôi sẽ không cho phép họ làm tổn thương bạn bao giờ trở lại. (I won't let them hurt you ever again.)"
Ya gotta b'lieve me, sweetie. Jus' gotta get some energy back.
"Shhhh. Rest now." Her delicate touch on his cheek and her comforting words lulled him to a semi-restless sleep. He wasn't even aware when the Lieutenant started the engine and followed the van to the A-team base camp at Simpson Springs.
oooooo
As the A-team pilot rested, Colonel Jackson took leave of the Granite Peak facility by way of chopper and headed to Las Vegas.
Damn that Stafford for not getting rid of that female reporter! But as long as I can supply Murdock with false memories and make him think he sees that dead Vietnamese girl, I should be able to convince him to accomplish the next part of the plan.
Jackson leaned back and spied the black van and red rental car on the road to Simpson Springs. He smiled to himself.
The key was to sleep when Murdock slept and monitor his thoughts while he was awake. Soon no one would be able to stop the Captain from taking care of Cazador and the weapons shipment. No one at all.