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 52 Greed
"This, Captain Murdock . . . this is my Lucky Lady," Cazador crooned as he waved an arm. The two men strode side by side across the private landing strip.
Murdock let his eyes devour the sight of the single-prop plane waiting for them outside the hangar. An Army truck sat nearby. Its engine idled while several men carried wooden crates from its tarp-covered bed to the cargo bay of the aircraft.
He didn't notice the flurry of activity so intent was his interest in the plane. "I read 'bout th' prototype for this model couple years back. I never dreamed I'd be flyin' one," he breathed.
The Tucson businessman chuckled and clapped his hand on the pilot's shoulder. "FedEx isn't the only ones interested in the Cessna 208 Caravan for carrying passengers and cargo."
"It ain' been nine months since th' FAA certified this. How'd ya get hold o' one?" Murdock was dumbstruck and walked around the plane, admiring its functionality and appearance. It wasn't the fastest jet airplane in the sky but it was a relative newcomer to the world of aircraft.
Jus' look at this gal! Maybe it won' be so bad after all if Mister Cazador wants me t' stay on 'n' be his pilot if I get t' fly spankin' new birds like this one.
"I hold stock in the company. She's beautiful, isn't she?" Cazador stood back and watched the pilot circle the aircraft and duck under the wing, looking up at the shiny white fuselage as he did. "Now I know you're the right man for this job. I can tell you'll take good care of my Lady."
"Oh, I will, Mister Cazador!" Murdock could hardly tear his gaze away from the plane he would be piloting.
A blonde-haired workman paused in his labor and stared at him. The pilot didn't notice. He reached up and gently stroked the metal of the plane near its propellor, running his fingers over the name "Lucky Lady" painted in black. It wasn't a prototype and it wasn't his but flying a plane so new in production would be the experience of his life.
"Let's go in the hangar and have a drink before you take us up. It'll give my men an opportunity to make sure the Lady has her cargo loaded and she's ready to fly. I have a bottle of very good whiskey tucked away." Cazador gestured with his head and waited for Murdock.
Murdock felt his sixth sense send tingling alarms through his body. He looked around but saw nothing to be concerned about. Just Lucky Lady, Cazador and the workers unloading the truck. One of the workers kept shooting glances his way. The man seemed familiar but he couldn't tell exactly what he looked like from that distance. He turned his attention back to Cazador.
"I kind o' like t' take a look-see o' my own b'fore I fly anythin'. Used t' drive my crew chief nuts over in Nam." The pilot hesitated, hoping Cazador wouldn't rescind his offer because of his insistence to check things out.
Now I did it! Why couldn' I keep my damned mouth shut?
The businessman laughed out loud, a deep good-humored laugh that put Murdock at ease. "I wouldn't expect anything else, Captain. But let's have that drink first. Then you can run through your safety check list before we head out."
Murdock let out a relieved sigh. Something was nagging him about this flight and he didn't know if it was something to do with the plane itself but it wouldn't hurt to be cautious.
'N' a good stiff drink might take down th' nerves a bit. Jus' 'nough t' take care o' my jitters. No more 'n that.
oooooo
"Looks like a lot of motion around that hangar, Hannibal." Amy peered through binoculars at the men carrying boxes, two to a box, to the Cessna on the private airstrip. Suddenly she let out a gasp of surprise mingled with relief. "I see Murdock! He's with someone and they're walking away from the plane."
Doctor Stafford stubbed out his cigarette and peered toward the ranch. "You've got to stop them."
He barely muttered the sentence. Hannibal gave him a sharp look. "That's what we intend to do, Doc. But not for the reasons you have."
Amy handed the Colonel the binoculars and waited for his reaction. Smiling for the first time since waking in the hospital, she knew Hannibal was just as happy to see Murdock and know he was alive.
Face was with B. A. If all was going according to plan, the Sergeant had already crippled Cazador's security by knocking out his guards one by one and stowing them, bound and gagged, somewhere where they wouldn't sound an early alarm.
B. A. wasn't going to get on the plane. Not unless he absolutely had to. That was Face's job, and that was only if he couldn't jog Murdock's memory somehow and escape from the ranch with him.
Before leaving Amy, Hannibal and the medical man on a small hill overlooking Cazador's ranch, the Lieutenant had donned a pair of coveralls like the other men loading the plane were wearing. If B. A. had completed his job, Face would be mingling in with them and watching for Murdock while he worked.
"Damn! He went with Cazador into the hangar!" Hannibal impatiently scanned the group of workmen and focused in on two of them. The blonde-haired con man he saw in the binoculars struggled to keep up his side of a long wooden box as he and another man lifted it from the truck. Face had either just missed seeing Murdock or had decided he couldn't make a move to get in touch with the pilot without putting them both in danger.
Cursing again under his breath, Hannibal pressed the binoculars back into Amy's hands.
"Face?" The Colonel adjusted his head set and spoke into a small microphone.
"He hears you, Hannibal. He twisted the knob on that fake transistor radio you had him wear like he was trying to tune in a station." Amy grinned. For once, one of the Colonel's plans seemed to be falling into place as it was supposed to. Even the signals they were supposed to use were working.
"Face, Murdock just went into the hangar with either Hanson or Cazador. I assume it's Cazador. It's not going to be easy getting to him. You might have to resort to Plan B and hide on that plane. But don't let him get it up in the air."
At the mention of Plan B, Stafford lit another cigarette and drew in a long breath. His hands were shaking.
Hannibal looked at Amy and she nodded. "He heard you. He just took out the red bandanna and wiped his forehead. That means he's going through with Plan B."
The Colonel heard the apprehension in her voice and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Don't worry. Face will keep Murdock from crashing that plane if he has to fly it himself to prevent it from happening."
Amy pasted a brave smile on her face. "And that's supposed to reassure me?" she murmured.
Hannibal shrugged and got in the driver's seat of the van. "Get in, Doc. When we get Murdock back, you're going to make sure you undo what you did to him."
Amy quickly got into the passenger's seat and buckled in. They had to be ready to pick up B. A. and then wait to see if Face managed to speak to Murdock before they left the ground.
At this point, it seemed unlikely.
oooooo
Face grunted under the weight of another crate of weapons. He saw Murdock but he also realized that the pilot had not recognized him.
Maybe he's been brainwashed and he can't remember me. Then again, he wasn't expecting to see me. For all he knows, I'm dead. Yeah, that's it.
He paused to adjust the ear bud in his ear. The listening piece allowed one-way communication from Hannibal to him. The fake radio contained a tracking device should Murdock manage to get the plane in the air. He wished it had been possible to include a way other than obscure coded signals to talk to Hannibal and Amy.
B. A. had easily overcome the guard that confronted them at one of the ranch outbuildings. He hadn't held back the full power of his fist when he did it either.
Face winced at the memory of the guard's head snapping to one side. He checked to make sure the man was still alive as B. A. bound and gagged him.
"Did you have to hit him so hard? We're lucky he isn't dead." Face tugged at the collar of his coveralls.
"Well, he ain' gonna tell nobody what we're up to, is he?" B. A. muttered as he stood up and dragged the man into the building. "You get goin'. I'll be alright here."
Face nodded and began to sneak toward the airstrip.
"Hey, Faceman." B. A.'s gruff voice stopped him and he looked back. A frown creased the black man's brow. "Keep the fool safe, willya? Do what it takes ta get 'im back, okay?"
Remembering the worried expression on the big man's face, the con man smiled to himself.
B. A. may constantly be threatening to take Murdock's life, but when Murdock's life is in jeopardy, he's the first to try to save him. Go figure.
As the workmen loaded the last crate, Face hovered near the open door leading to the passenger's area. When no one was looking, he ducked inside and found a hiding place under some tarp in the back. Once there, he retrieved his gun from inside his coveralls. He didn't know if he'd need it but Cazador might not let his new pilot leave that easily. Face was not going to take "no" for an answer.
oooooo
"Now, you understand what you need to do, Hanson? The government is depending on you." Jackson eyed the ex-CIA agent as he checked his pistol and put it back in his shoulder holster.
"Crap on the government. You may be able to fool that pilot with your talk about patriotism, but not me, Jackson. Just make sure you hold up your end of the deal." Adjusting his suit jacket over it, he gave the Colonel a cold smile and retracted the blade of the box cutter in his hand. He placed it in his pocket. "I'll use the pistol only if Cazador puts up too much of a struggle. The pilot shouldn't notice much of anything from where he is in the front. Once Cazador's dead, I'll force the Captain to land at the mine. It shouldn't be too much more trouble to make sure he never talks."
"And I'll meet you there with the five thousand dollars after I let General Brandler know he can move in with his men and secure the site."
Jackson wasn't prepared for what Hanson said next. "Five thousand dollars seems almost like a three-for-one fire sale. How about you add another ten thousand to the five? It's still a bargain and keeps you and your bosses happy."
"I can't negotiate that without the approval of my superiors," he spluttered. He could feel his face flush with anger. That's what you get when you work with guys like Hanson.
"Better make a quick phone call then. I'm sure Mister Cazador is waiting for me so we can take off. You don't want him to get suspicious." Hanson removed the receiver from the library desk phone and handed it to the Colonel.
After a moment of hesitation, Jackson moved over and dialed a number, blocking Hanson's view as he did.
When he heard the voice on the other end, he snarled, "He wants more . . . Yeah, ten thousand more . . . or else it doesn't get done . . . okay, I'll tell him it's a deal . . . see you at the mine."
Without another word, he hung up and turned to the greedy man behind him. "My boss says he'll personally bring the money. Satisfied?"
The ex-CIA agent nodded. "Now that didn't cause too much trouble, did it?"
The Colonel shook his head and walked toward the door. He heard the man behind him chuckle.
But I'll have the last laugh.
Hanson didn't need to know that the number Jackson had dialed was to his own apartment and he had carried on the conversation with his mistress. He knew she would be discreet. She really had no choice.
Jackson tried to keep the smirk from his face. Hanson would never receive his pay-off if all went according to his plan. All of the weapons would be destroyed along with the Lucky Lady, the occupants of the plane and the workers at the mine. Brandler didn't want to know how it was done as long as the government's part in supplying Cazador was never uncovered.
But what Hanson didn't know would most definitely kill him.
"After you," Jackson murmured, holding the door open for the other man. As they stepped out into the mid-afternoon sun, the Colonel smiled. It was a good day for flying.