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 45 Coincidence
Amy sat in the passenger's seat of a single prop Cessna Caravan. Murdock was beside her in the pilot's seat. Their flight took them into a mountainous area somewhere in the Southwest. She asked where they were going but he just smiled and shook his head.
"Wherever Mister Cazador tells me."
The jet vibrated, making a grating noise. Murdock desperately held onto the controls, tried everything to prevent the plane from crashing into the side of the mountain that loomed up in front of them . . .
Amy woke to the sound of the chair beside her bed scraping against the floor. Her eyes opened as wide as her swollen lids would allow. She gasped for air as she tried to figure out where she was. The last thing she remembered of her dream was Murdock's lifeless body, bloodied and mangled in the wreckage.
"Hey, angel, wake up now. It's just a bad dream." Face reached out to touch her shoulder, then remembered her fragile condition and pulled back.
Her gaze fell on the Lieutenant who leaned over the bedrail of the hospital bed and looked into her eyes with concern. She groggily shook her head to clear it of the awful image.
"Where's Murdock?" she whispered.
Face frowned and tilted his head to the side. "Don't you remember? A chopper landed near you on the trail and airlifted him out of there. Hannibal's pretty sure it was Colonel Jackson."
"He's alive." She felt relief well up inside her.
"We think he's alive. Jackson still seems to need him for what Stafford called Project Silent Arrow. But once that's done . . . " He tore his gaze away from her and rubbed his stubbled cheek in frustration.
"I have to get out of here so you and the guys can find him." She shifted position in the bed as if to get up and groaned, falling back into the pillow. "I hurt all over."
"You're staying put for now. You have serious burning and blistering on your face, neck and arms. You broke your wrist in a fall and you have bruises over much of your body." She raised her eyebrows at his detailed knowledge of her injuries. "I helped Hannibal do an initial exam when we got you back to the van."
She nodded slightly, trying to remember.
"I was just going to slip out and grab a cup of coffee. Would you like me to find something for you to drink, too?" Face gingerly stroked Amy's cheek with his fingertips. When she flinched, he drew his hand back as if he had touched a hot stove. "Sorry. Didn't mean for it to hurt."
She softly groaned and shook her head. "It isn't fair. The one thing that would comfort me the most is you and you can't even touch me without these blisters hurting."
He bent over her, kissed his fingertips and lightly touched them to her sun-cracked lips. "I guess until you heal up, I'll have to do it this way." With a loving smile, he straightened and repeated his question. "Can I get you some juice or lemon-lime soda?"
"You're going to think I'm the world's worst patient . . . "
"No, sweetheart. Not even close," he murmured, interrupting her. "I'm pretty sure I took that prize a long time ago."
She chuckled a little, despite the discomfort she felt all over her body. "Yeah, I guess you don't like hospitals much. I forgot. Anyway, if I have to drink another glass of anything I'm going to spring several leaks and look like a fountain. But you go and get something. You haven't had anything since supper last night, have you?"
Face shrugged. "I haven't been very hungry."
She frowned. "What time is it?" Craning her neck slightly to look at the clock on the bedside table, she sighed. "It's already noon? You didn't have any breakfast and now all you're going to get is a cup of coffee?"
He shrugged again.
"Go!" she commanded. "I don't want to see you back here unless you have a tray of food with you."
He gave her an amused grin and planted another 'kiss' on her lips with his fingertips. "Will do." Pausing, he bent quickly and lightly brushed her lips with his. "It's good to hear the fight back in your voice, sweetheart."
And then he was gone.
She sighed and touched her lips with her fingers. Blisters be damned! She was alive and her man was beside her nursing her back to health.
Her dream hovered in the back of her mind, the details becoming vague with the passage of time. She tried to remember why it bothered her so much. The name 'Cazador' echoed in her thoughts and she made a note to ask Face about it when he returned.
Until then, she contented herself with smiling at the elaborately detailed 'I love you' Face had drawn on the plaster cast encasing her lower arm and hand.
oooooo
Murdock glared at Colonel Jackson as he returned from speaking in private with the doctor overseeing the pilot's treatment.
"The doctor said he should be able to release you into my care later today. Your vital signs have improved and as long as we continue to pump fluids through you and keep you out of the sun, you should be good to go . . . brother." With a cold satisfied look on his face, the military man regarded the man in the bed.
"I don't s'pose ya tried t' find out if anyone found Amy 'r not." Murdock knew the answer even before Jackson offered it. "No, o' course not. She ain' part o' th' plan so she ain' 'portant, is she?" He growled the last words and fisted his hands on the white sheet.
The Colonel smiled. You think you know me but you don't. After you passed out on the way to the hospital, I had the tour pilot radio in her location to the park officials.
It was a lie but the military man was fairly certain he could convince Murdock of his sincerity. All he had to do was prevent him from seeing or hearing any local news stories.
The pilot narrowed his eyes at the last bit of information Jackson gave him through telepathy. But ya don' know if they found 'er or if she's 'live 'r dead.
Jackson composed his expression into one of profound sorrow. No. Sorry. Haven't heard anything and I'm sure something like a rescue of a lost hiker would get some news play.
Murdock squeezed his eyes shut and set his mouth in a firm angry line. "She was 'live 'til you showed up. She woulda made it if you'd let that pilot put 'er on board."
It doesn't change the fact that you're a fugitive. Because you ran rather than wait for me to get to Hurricane, you may have caused her death, too, besides those of your three friends.
Murdock's eyelids snapped open and he opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find the words. In the end, he swallowed hard with the realization that Jackson was right.
"Now I'm going to step out for a minute and get a tray from the cafeteria. I'll be back as soon as I can, Phil. Do you want me to bring you back anything?" Jackson sneered as he waited at the door for a response.
Murdock shook his head and closed his eyes again.
The Colonel probed the pilot's mind and contented himself with the overwhelming guilt he found there.
It will make him so much more willing to sacrifice his life for his country.
oooooo
Hannibal sat in the front passenger's seat of the van, a lit cigar firmly clenched in his teeth.
Without Face to help them orchestrate the scam, B. A. and he had a more difficult time convincing the photographer in Hurricane to let them use his darkroom. They had to develop the film Murdock and Amy shot in Guiseppe Tannini's office.
Only after offering the photographer two hundred dollars did they gain access to what they needed.
The Colonel thumbed through the newly processed photos before tucking them away in a manila envelope already addressed to the proper authorities back in Los Angeles.
"These should be proof enough of the sex trade operation Tannini is running. Add to that the photos you and I took of Tannini's storefront operation and that slimeball should go away for quite a while." The satisfaction in Hannibal's voice was muted.
Their mission was successful as far as what it was supposed to do but the bizarre events that led them on this interstate chase to get Amy and Murdock back dulled the victory.
B. A. watched his CO seal the envelope and sit for several seconds deep in thought. The black Sergeant didn't feel much like celebrating this as a successful mission either. But it wasn't like the Colonel to be so pessimistic and not have a plan for making things right again.
He reached across and gripped the older man's forearm, squeezing it in a gesture of assurance. "We'll get the fool back, Hannibal. This guy Jackson leaves a trail b'hind him we'll be able ta follow. An' Stafford's got a lot more that he ain' sayin' we should be able ta get outta him."
He glanced back at the sedated doctor sleeping and buckled securely in the back seat of the van. "A lot more information," he repeated, cracking the knuckles on one of his fists.
Hannibal nodded and scanned the yellow pages of the phone book they took from the photographer's studio. "As soon as we drop this packet of photos off at the post office, we'll check out the helicopter tour services in the area. There's only three of them. And Face'll check in pretty soon with a progress report on Amy."
They rode in silence to the post office where Hannibal masked his white hair with a wig before sending the envelope off to its destination.
"Where to now, Colonel?" B. A. scowled as Hannibal got back in his seat and tore off the wig.
"We saw the helicopter fly toward Hurricane, so we start here and make our way back to Saint George." The Colonel stared out the window at the passing countryside.
"An' once we find the guy that flew Murdock outta there?"
Hannibal chewed on the end of the cigar thoughtfully. "Maybe he'll know where Jackson went with him after they landed."
oooooo
Jackson entered the cafeteria, scanning the interior as he did. He filled a large foam cup with strong coffee and grabbed a premade plastic-wrapped turkey, lettuce and cheddar cheese sandwich. As he did, he noticed a young blonde-haired man standing in front of the salad bar, forking shredded lettuce on his plate.
The man seemed familiar but it wasn't until the Colonel saw his profile that he recognized him.
Forcing himself to be calm, Jackson went to the cafeteria checkout and paid for his coffee and sandwich.
The appearance of Lieutenant Templeton Peck meant one thing. The reporter was alive and receiving treatment in the same hospital as Murdock was. The rest of his team could not be very far away. He would have to be careful when they left the hospital.
Cursing the coincidence that brought them all together in the same place, Jackson quickened his pace back to Murdock's room. The sooner the doctor released the pilot and they could be on their way, the better.
oooooo
B. A. and Hannibal were on their way down the road that led to the third helicopter tour service in the area when the Sergeant spotted the flashing lights of parked police cars in front of the tour office. On Hannibal's direction, he parked far enough away to not attract attention but close enough to observe what was going on.
They could easily see officers unrolling yellow crime scene tape, sealing off the building housing the office. The tour chopper that had taken Murdock was already cordoned off with similar bright yellow tape.
Two paramedics wheeled a gurney with a sheet-covered body to a waiting ambulance. They were not in a hurry.
"Turn around, B. A. Let's get out of here." Hannibal squinted at the corpse on the stretcher. "He won't be telling us anything about where Murdock and Jackson went."
B. A. growled in response. "Where to, Hannibal?"
"Back to the motel. We have to figure out what to do from here. Jackson means business and I don't think he intends for the tour pilot to be his only victim."