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 61 The Thread Thins
"I gotta be in there, Billy. I gotta see what that doctor's doin' t' help Face . . . 'n' if th' other guy was really me . . . " Murdock shivered. ". . . well, shouldn' I be there anyway? T' get myself back t'gether? Like all th' other times when I was remote viewin'?"
He was beginning to think his mind played a cruel trick on him.
Yeah, that's it. It wasn' me. My mind ain' clear right now. I jus' thought it was me.
But there were no other passengers who walked off the Lucky Lady. And Billy continued to gaze at him in such a peculiar way that it was giving him an uncomfortable feeling.
On Cazador's instructions, the workers removed Hanson's corpse to the hanger. Later, in the cooler evening hours, they would find an isolated place somewhere on the ranch to bury him. The pilot watched all that, his stomach wrenching when he realized he was the one who put the bullet in the man's head.
"Please, brother? You're creepin' me out with all this stuff. I wanna see Face." He tried to get by his brother but Billy grabbed his arm and held him back.
I can' let ya go in, brother. It ain' time yet.
"Why not? Ain' time for what? You ain' makin' no sense at all, Billy." Murdock shivered again. "It's gettin' real chilly out here. Shouldn' be but it is. Inside'd be warmer." He zipped the beige canvas jacket all the way to the top but nothing seemed to prevent the cold he felt from penetrating deep into his bones.
The door to the ranch house opened and Cazador came out, a bodyguard close behind him. Deep in thought, the businessman seemed less sure of himself as he glanced back through the wrought iron and glass door. He spoke a few words to the man with him, then walked down the steps to stand in the dusty drive leading to the house and hangar beyond it. Murdock noticed him look toward the main road, raising his hands to shield his eyes against the sun.
"Come with me, Scanlon. We're about to have company." Cazador's melancholic expression changed as he walked farther from the house and the drama going on inside. "Are your men in place?"
"Yes sir, Mister Cazador. You give the word and not a man who gets out of that van will be left standing."
Cazador waved a dismissive hand. "I doubt it'll come to that. This Colonel Smith and his A-team haven't survived this long as free men by doing things that jeopardized their freedom. I'm sure Colonel Smith is a reasonable man."
Murdock left Billy's side and strode over to where the businessman and his bodyguard waited. He stared at the older man. Panic edged his words. "He can' mean that, Billy. He wouldn' jus' gun 'em all down, would he?"
Cazador's a desperate man. He's 'fraid o' havin' someone fin' out 'bout the weapons he's been smugglin'. If your Colonel d'cides t' cause trouble, they'll all die.
Murdock paced around the two men, glancing up at the snipers on the roof, then back at the man he had protected several minutes before. He already heard the crunch of grit under the wheels of an approaching vehicle.
"What do I do, Billy? I don' know what Hann'bal's gonna do when he sees Cazador. I gotta warn 'em somehow." He gazed wild-eyed at the van as it stopped abruptly in front of the Lucky Lady and the side door slammed open.
oooooo
The atmosphere in the van during the last several minutes was heavy with dread. As B. A. got to the main road and turned toward Cazador's ranch, he had the steering wheel in a death grip and not only because of the road they had just traveled.
Ain' a force on Earth's gonna keep me from tearin' Jackson an' Stafford limb from limb if either Faceman 'r the fool die.
Glancing aside at Amy, he noted she managed to get her tears under control. Two pink patches high on her cheeks and swollen lower lids were the only thing that showed she had cried. She glared straight ahead at the road in tight-lipped silence.
I ain' seen Amy so mad at Hannibal like she is right now.
Hannibal had settled back in the rear passenger's seat. The cigar he absently chewed was unlit. He caught B. A.'s scrutinizing glance and looked away. With a small amount of hope, the Sergeant returned his gaze to the road.
He's thinkin' of a plan ta get us all outta there in case Cazador tries somethin'. He's gotta be.
By the time B. A. drove the van up to the Lucky Lady where she sat outside the hangar, there were few people to be seen. Grinding the gears, he parked the vehicle and growled, "We're here."
A second later, he slammed the driver's door open. Hannibal was already out of the van, heading toward a short lean man in a well-tailored suit who seemed to be waiting for them. A sinewy bodyguard equal to B. A. in frame but taller impassively watched the occupants of the van as all but Jackson trailed after Hannibal.
Before the Colonel could say a word, Cazador squinted at him and extended his right hand. "Welcome to my ranch, Colonel Smith."
B. A. noticed the bodyguard scrutinizing him from head to toe as he approached, noting his muscles, sizing him up. B. A. was used to that. He did the same in potentially dangerous situations.
Gotta know yer opponent's weak spots an' his strengths case ya gotta mix it up with 'im later.
B. A. saw the Colonel hesitate, then firmly shake the other man's hand.
He knew Hannibal's rank. Knew his name, too. Sucka knows who we are. That could be trouble an' Hannibal knows it.
The Sergeant stepped up to stand behind the Colonel's right shoulder. It was a place where Murdock often stood to listen in on conversations, like he was Hannibal's shadow.
B. A. wasn't sure why the fool did that. Once in a while he contributed to the conversation when Hannibal was talking to someone but mostly he seemed content to listen and then take his orders. It was a place rightfully his because of his rank, even though Face outranked him while they were on the ground.
But he never saw Face hover like that.
He wasn't sure how he felt about the thought that came into his head, that the fool might never stand with Hannibal again. He might never hear the fool's crazy jibber-jabber or threaten to introduce him to Mister Fist either. Something about that made him feel sick inside so he sized up the businessman and his bodyguard once more and moved slightly so he stood beside Hannibal on his right instead. He had to keep his attention on the men in front of them in case one of them should threaten the Colonel.
B. A. cracked his massive knuckles, a move that he did instinctively when they faced someone who could be bad news for them. For a moment, the black man almost sensed the fool's presence beside him and then the sensation was gone. He scowled and looked around him.
Murdock ain' nowhere in sight. What am I thinkin'? Course Murdock ain' here. He's gettin' fixed up somewhere. But not here. Jus' my imagination.
Hannibal drew himself up to full height and crossed his arms. Glaring at the Tucson businessman, he growled, "Cazador, where are my men?"
The man in the suit seemed unfazed by the question and the manner in which Hannibal delivered it. He smiled grimly, his eyes glinting as if he knew he had the upper hand in this situation. "My personal physician and his assistant are with them right now. Lieutenant Peck is unconscious. Doctor Willis assures me the wound he has is serious but not life-threatening."
B. A. heard the mention of Face's rank and last name and grimaced. Hannibal glanced at the Sergeant and then over his shoulder at Amy. Cazador knew exactly who they were.
Amy hugged herself and watched the two men closely, her attention riveted on the businessman's report. She sighed softly with relief when she heard about Face's wound and Cazador turned his eyes toward her, smiling graciously. "I'm glad to be able to set your mind at ease, Miss Allen."
The Sergeant sensed something strange at his right side, almost like a gentle puff of air struck him in the arm. It was like the previous sensation he had of Murdock's presence but seemed more real this time. It was so palpable he glanced in that direction.
As he did, B. A. saw out of the corner of his eye a small flash on the roof of the house.
He's got a sniper waitin' for us t' make a wrong move. Maybe more 'n one.
He nudged Hannibal slightly and tilted his head toward the flash he saw. The older man nodded curtly. "I saw it," he murmured.
Addressing Cazador, he asked, "And Captain Murdock?" The Colonel's jaw muscles twitched with anger at the game this man seemed to be playing with them. B. A. felt a rumbling growl start in his chest. His arm muscles tensed in response to Hannibal's anger and he sized the bodyguard up again.
Ain' no game we're playin' here. If the fool's alive, why don' he tell us straight out?
"I have heard nothing yet. I'm sorry, Colonel Smith. As soon as my men reported seeing your van coming down my road . . . well, what kind of host would I be if I didn't welcome you? Come with me and we'll have something to drink while we wait." Cazador gripped Hannibal by the elbow to guide him toward the house.
B. A.'s growl grew in intensity and he clenched his fists.
"I'm not going to do anything to any of you, Sergeant Baracus. Your CO and I must talk and this sun . . . " The businessman glanced up in the sky. " . . . it's too hot to have a conversation out here. Why not be in a more pleasant atmosphere while we wait for news on your Captain and Lieutenant?"
"That's fine, Cazador, but there's someone that needs to be taken care of before we do anything." Hannibal glanced at the van.
Cazador frowned, clearly confused about the other man's meaning. "Who?"
"We have Colonel Jackson with us. The doctor here informs me that Jackson must be kept sedated or he'll do more damage to Captain Murdock's mind."
Even as Hannibal said the name, Cazador's gaze turned dark. With an impatient motion of his head, he beckoned to his bodyguard. "Scanlon, remove the Colonel from the van and bring him to the house. I'll have Doctor Willis prepare something to keep him unconscious for now. And Scanlon? Don't make the Colonel comfortable." He looked at Hannibal and smiled grimly. "I don't take kindly to any of my associates, military or not, trying to kill me." He peered past Hannibal to Doctor Stafford who nervously hovered behind Amy and lit another cigarette. "Any of my associates or associates of associates."
Stafford squinted at the businessman before turning his eyes to the ground at his feet.
Scanlon nudged past B. A. to get to the van. As he did, the Sergeant felt himself bristle with an uneasy feeling of powerlessness. Hannibal didn't have a plan. He was not in control. Cazador could do whatever he wanted with them to save himself and keep his arms smuggling operation out of the public eye.
And they still didn't know if Murdock was dead or alive.
oooooo
"That was close, Billy. I sure am glad th' Big Guy felt me punch 'im 'n' looked up. 'N' Hann'bal seemed to know I was there. He looked right at me. They wouldn' o' seen Cazador's snipers if they hadn'."
Billy smiled and nodded at the small group moving toward the house. It's time t' go inside, brother. Ya still feelin' cold?
"I don' 'member ever feelin' this col' in my life. Startin' t' feel kind o' sleepy, too. When we get in there, am I gonna see Face?" Murdock rubbed at his eyes and yawned. The pain around his throat had numbed again. It was strange how the pain increased and then decreased like that.
The glow around Billy was warm and soft. The light seemed to get brighter as his pain decreased. He touched his brother's arm and felt his chilled hand get warmer. He wondered to himself if it was always sunny and blue-sky warm where Billy lived now. It wouldn't be bad to visit if the way he knew he had to do it wasn't so permanent.
He suddenly realized Billy had his arm around him, holding him up. He must have tripped or something. But he didn't think he had.
It's okay, brother. I got ya. Time's short now. Can' stay out here no more.
"Guess we'd better get in there then," he mumbled, trying to remember how to walk. Things were getting fuzzy again. He hoped he didn't pass out before he got to see Face.
Think 'bout bein' in th' house b'side yer friend 'n' we'll be there b'fore they even open th' door t' come in.
"'N' then I can see what's goin' on?"
Then I can show ya what's goin' on.
Murdock started to focus on Face and then hesitated. Glancing at his brother and then at the house, he stammered, "I . . . I'm 'fraid o' what I'm gonna see, Billy. I mean, I dodged enemy fire over in Nam, took bullets, crashed choppers, nearly died in th' POW camp, but this . . . this scares me more 'n any o' that. Tell me it's gonna be alright." He hid his face in his hands, trembling and feeling fainter with every second that passed.
Billy hugged his brother closely and whispered in his ear, I promise ya. Whatever happens, I'll be there with ya. It's all gonna be okay.