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 56 Reasonable Doubts

"Turn here, B. A." Hannibal tapped his finger impatiently on the yellow lined paper smoothed on his knee as the Sergeant whipped the steering wheel to the right.

"Hilton Ranch Road? I thought we was s'posed ta be on the Red Cloud Mine Road." B. A. frowned into the rear view mirror at the Colonel. "Road don' even look like a road. I'd better not wreck my suspension goin' fast on this goat trail or someone's gonna pay."

"We have to be on this road for a while before we get to the mine. Keep looking up in the sky, Doctor. Maybe we'll spot the plane." Hannibal gestured toward the monitoring screen with his gloved hand. "Amy, keep an eye on that screen and tell me when we pick up the signal again. I'm going to try something so we at least know what's going on up there."

B. A. shook his head and gripped the wheel tighter. "We ain' gonna catch up to 'em, Hannibal. Road's too rough ta go much faster 'n this." Despite his statement, the Colonel noticed the Sergeant seemed to increase his speed.

They needed to be on hand for a rescue in case Murdock brought the plane down and there was someone left to dig out of the wreckage. B. A. was as worried as the rest of them that they wouldn't be pulling much from a plane crash if the Lieutenant couldn't convince the pilot to set the bird down gently.

"Face. If you can hear me, I want you to tune the plane's radio in to 121.3, repeat one-two-one-point-three." Hannibal barely noticed the Doctor draw a cigarette from a pack in his pocket and light it with trembling hands, then crane his neck to squint through the driver's window at the sky.

"What're you going to do, Colonel?" he said, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he did.

"I'm trying to set up two-way communication." He listened over the ear pieces for a few seconds, then shook his head in frustration. "Nothing."

"I see a glint up in the sky. Could that be Cazador's plane?" Amy squinted toward the horizon, her hand raised to shield her eyes from the sun.

"I don't know, kid. I'm going to keep trying to reach Face. You keep watching that screen. Doc, you keep your eyes on the horizon. If that's our pilot, he hasn't crashed yet which means maybe Face got to him." Hannibal cupped his hand over one ear and continued to speak into the transmitter. "Face, tune in to 121.3 and let me know you're still up there." To himself, he muttered, "Come on, kid. Let me know you're both safe."

Several seconds later Amy straightened in her seat and leaned forward. "I've got a signal, Hannibal. They haven't crashed." Her words caught in her throat as relief overwhelmed her.

"Now we need to be able to talk to them. Come on, kid. One-two-one-point-three. Tune in your radio."

oooooo

Murdock's eyes widened as Face opened his mouth to speak. "I'm sorry . . . I didn' mean to . . . " he pleaded. His hand swept behind his back, frantically trying to find the door release.

"Listen, buddy. I'm not dead. You didn't kill me." Face recognized Murdock's terror-filled expression and caught the movement of his arm at the same time. "Don't!" He jerked forward as if to stop his friend from opening the door but froze as the pilot pressed his back even harder against his side of the cockpit.

At the same time, Murdock threw his arms up in front of his face, shielding himself from what Face would do. At least that stopped the pilot from further attempts to bail out. "No! Stay 'way! I didn' mean to . . . "

A frightened whine came from behind the crossed arms.

Swallowing hard, the Lieutenant glanced out of the cockpit window. The plane bobbled side to side, its nose pointed up as it continued its erratic flight pattern.

They weren't going to collide with any mountains headed in the direction they were. But that could change quickly if Murdock took the controls again and determined to complete his mission. Right now, that didn't seem likely.

The earpiece Face had in his pocket crackled to life. " . . . One-two-one-point-three. Tune . . . radio." The Lieutenant didn't hear it with the headset on but Cazador did.

He prodded Face with his hand to get his attention and pointed. "Something in your pocket's going off."

The con man kept his eyes on his friend as he dug out the receiver and handed it to the businessman. "Find out what they're trying to tell me."

Cazador listened for a second, then motioned to the cockpit radio. He yelled to make himself heard. "Tune it to 121.3." He watched as Face did as instructed, then gestured toward the pilot's seat. "If you can get him to give up the controls, I'll take over."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" the Lieutenant yelled back.

oooooo

"If you can get him to give up the controls, I'll take over." The unfamiliar voice was faint and almost lost over the static on the radio. That had to be Cazador.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" And that anxious voice had to be Face. Hannibal let out a relieved breath, then tensed again. Just because they might be able to talk back and forth didn't mean they were out of danger yet.

"Can you hear me now?" Hannibal glanced up at Amy, tears dripping from her pale cheeks. She was disobeying his order to monitor the screen but he wasn't going to argue about it now. Not when he heard the whimpered words from the other occupant of the cockpit.

"I didn' mean to . . . I'm sorry . . . please . . . " That was Murdock. The shock of seeing his best friend alive must have triggered a reaction none of them would have expected.

Why didn't I foresee this? Murdock's always been a little superstitious. Lucky rabbit's foot, Ouija boards . . . Of course, he'd probably also believe there was such a thing as ghosts.

The Colonel gave Amy a grim nod as the con man responded. "Yes. I can hear you."

"What's going on up there, Lieutenant?" Hannibal demanded even though he had a good idea.

"He thinks I've come back to haunt him. Now what, Colonel?" Face answered.

"We try to convince him to let Cazador take over or we get him to understand he has to land the plane himself. Whichever comes first."

"Oh, is that all?" Face's sarcastic reply showed he hadn't panicked at least. Maybe he saw some hope in the situation. It was a start.

oooooo

He had the sickening feeling that jumping from the plane wouldn't do anything but hurry him along to hell. And the specter beside him might leave the plane with him and make his last seconds on Earth very unpleasant.

No, I can' jump. It'd do no good. He'd folla me.

Murdock heard the back-and-forth shouting between Face's ghost and his employer over the crackling static on his headset. It didn't make sense that Mister Cazador could see and hear the specter, too. Not if he was the one being haunted.

Face Ghost shouted, almost deafening him over the headset, "What do you think I'm trying to do?"

Tryin' t' do . . . what?

He repeated his plea for mercy. "I didn' mean to . . . I'm sorry . . . please . . . "

As if God's gonna have mercy on me when I killed all four o' my friends. But I gotta try.

Then he heard a question from a familiar voice come over the earphone. "What's going on up there, Lieutenant?"

Hann'bal? All's missin's Amy 'n' th' Big Guy.

Now that he'd calmed down enough to stop trying to bail out, he could almost laugh at the thought that all four of them would gang up on him because of what he did.

Least B. A. can' pound me inta th' groun' if he's a ghosty.

Face Ghost's answer was just as perplexing as the argument between his new boss and the specter.

"He thinks I've come back to haunt him. Now what, Colonel?"

Not daring to take a look at the specter in the seat next to him, he waited for the response. Maybe Hannibal Ghost would tell him everything was going to be alright.

"We try to convince him to let Cazador take over or we get him to understand he has to land the plane himself. Whichever comes first."

Hannibal Ghost hadn't spoken to him but the words were a reminder that he wasn't going to be the only one dying in a fiery plane crash if it came to that.

"Oh, is that all?" The cockpit specter's voice dripped with bitter determination. It sounded so much like what Face would say to one of Hannibal's more foolhardy plans.

For a few moments, Murdock allowed himself to remember. This time none of the bad memories tried to interrupt. He didn't know why his mind seemed like it had been released from a prison but it did. His thoughts were still muddy. He felt like all of his energy was required for him to think clearly.

I can' let Mister Cazador die. He's a Grampa. What'd those li'l gran'babies do if their Grampa died? Who'd teach 'is gran'son how t' fly? Who'd read 'em Peter Pan?

He knew how he felt when his own Grampa died when he was still in Nam. He had to let Mister Cazador get in the pilot's seat. In his state of mind, he realized he couldn't trust himself to land the plane without crashing it.

But to do that meant he had to move past Face's ghost and he wasn't sure what would happen if he did. Unless the impossible was possible and he really hadn't murdered his friends.

But th' gun was in my hand . . . I had Face 'round th' neck . . . I saw th' blood all over . . . 'r least I thought I did . . .

Trying to force his mind to remember exactly what he did see sapped his strength. Something had blocked parts of his memory. He wasn't sure anymore what was real and what he had imagined.

The thoughts in his mind swirled and melted together. It was something like when he had to be sedated after a bad nightmare and the purple wobblies distorted the walls in his room.

He slowly lowered his arms and hugged them to his abdomen, shivering as he did. Reluctant to open his eyes for fear of what he would see, he decided he had to know for sure.

"Tell me . . . " he managed to stutter, " . . . t . . .tell me . . . yer all real. I wanna b'lieve. I wanna . . . " Another whimper escaped despite his plea. He wasn't sure the answer was one he wanted to hear.

oooooo

Hannibal leaned forward in his seat, fully focused on everything he heard over the headset.

"Listen to me, Captain. First things first. You have to let Cazador take the controls of that plane. If you don't, you will all die. That's an order, Captain." The Colonel wasn't sure Murdock would respond to a command given by a superior who he thought might be a ghost. "Face, tell me when he does it."

For several anxious seconds, Hannibal waited. Even B. A. slowed his daredevil pace on the rough road and listened for the older man to acknowledge his order had been obeyed.

"Please, Murdock. Please, you have to do what Hannibal says. You have to believe him." Amy was frantic, talking out loud even though she knew she couldn't be heard very well. Her eyes sought out Hannibal's for reassurance and found none.

"Colonel, I'm going into the passenger's compartment. If Murdock doesn't have to go past me maybe he'll let Cazador take his place." The older man heard crackling over the earpiece and then Face spoke again. "You're going to have to talk to Murdock for a while on your own, Colonel. Hanson's starting to come around." There was the sound of someone groaning, then a muffled expletive.

"Here, take this." Face's voice became faint. Hannibal heard the sound of scuffling in the background and knew what that probably meant.

Cazador's voice came on. "Captain Murdock has moved over to the copilot's seat. I've got control of the Lucky Lady."

"Murdock, do you still hear me?" Hannibal had to be sure the pilot was still listening.

"He hears you. Talk to him, whoever you are, and I'll find a place to land the plane."