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 75 Reprieve
"Cazador, we have to talk." Hannibal let his gaze sweep around the comfortable home office before settling on the man behind the desk. He didn't know what he could glean from scrutinizing the way the businessman lived. Maybe he could see why Murdock wanted to save him?
Nice digs, expensive-looking, but practical.
An uneventful twelve hours had passed since the Colonel overheard the conversation among Murdock, Amy and Face. He more or less promised the pilot he would speak to Cazador and now was a good time.
But would what he heard make it impossible to overlook Cazador's part in the shady operation Jackson and his superiors had brokered with him?
Murdock was still weak and exhausted from fighting the infection in his body. He wouldn't be fully aware of anything until the antibiotics began to work. If he wasn't so sick, he would be impatiently waiting for Hannibal's decision about Cazador.
As it is, he set his recovery back when he paid his visit to Jackson and tore out that IV.
Truthfully, Hannibal wasn't sure how they could make sure that Jackson and Stafford were brought to justice and the stored weapons returned to the Army without getting Cazador's name thrown into the news reports that would come out about it. Amy could break the story but another news agency was sure to dig deeper.
Unless Murdock's plan for Jackson somehow clears Cazador from being implicated.
The businessman waved Hannibal toward a navy blue richly upholstered chair. "I had a feeling we would have a chance to talk some more about Captain Murdock. No doubt he told you I offered him a job as my personal pilot."
The Colonel froze for a moment before taking the offered seat. It was information he was certain not even Face and Amy knew. He sure as heck didn't hear about it. Cazador smiled at him with satisfaction. The businessman caught him unaware and both men knew it.
That gives him a slight advantage. Well, I'll have to be more cautious about letting him read my body language.
"No, he's been in and out of consciousness for most of the night. He didn't mention that to me. Didn't have a chance." Hannibal made the statement as convincing as he could.
It wasn't totally untrue. He took over again from Face and Amy in the early morning hours and observed Murdock's restless feverish sleep. There had been no more conversation except for the pilot's muttered frantic pleas for mercy for the arms smuggler. When B. A. took over, he confirmed what Face and Amy told Hannibal about Murdock's plan. The Sergeant hesitated when the older man asked him about doping his coffee to get him out of the way.
"He mighta mentioned that. I wouldn'ta done it, Hannibal. Fool's talkin' crazy when he talks like that." And that was all B. A. would admit to.
B. A. has never been very good with lying to me. His mother taught him well.
Cazador frowned with concern at the mention of Murdock's condition. Clasping his hands together in front of him and resting his elbows on the desk blotter, he contemplated for a moment before giving Hannibal his full attention. "He's a strong man. He survived too much over in Vietnam to succumb to this."
Hannibal raised his eyebrows at that. "How do you know?" He couldn't help asking.
If he knows that, then he has to know where Murdock has lived for the last ten plus years and what put him there to begin with.
The businessman shrugged. "I took the opportunity to call in some favors and get the real file on the Captain, not the one Jackson cooked up for him to show me. Several months in a POW camp where his rank, service as a pilot and history with the CIA made him a target for interrogation." A hint of sadness and weariness crossed Cazador's face. "The torture, the feeling you might not make it out alive, the knowledge that you could give them what they wanted and the pain would stop but your sense of duty and honor would not permit you to . . . he must have suffered quite a bit. You know better than I. You were there. I can't imagine anything like that. But it made him the man he is today."
And how would you know what kind of man he is? From this short time with him? I've known him for more than ten years.
Hannibal resisted the urge to clench his fists. Cazador didn't have the smug air of one of their usual adversaries. He seemed to have genuine compassion for the Vietnam veteran pilot.
"He has some . . . lingering issues from the war that still require medical care." The Colonel wasn't sure how exactly to word it so Murdock didn't come out sounding like a raving lunatic.
And there was still the issue of Murdock's pilot license which he had to relinquish when he was declared mentally incompetent to fly.
"Those concerns were serious enough that the authorities took away his pilot's license, you know." Hannibal smiled, figuring that would stop Cazador from considering Murdock for a job.
The ranch owner scowled and waved his hand in dismissal. "I know he struggled for the first few years after coming home. I know about the memory problems, the crippling depression and the psychoses noted in his medical files. But it's been ten years, Colonel Smith. Surely he can function outside the walls of a psychiatric ward by now, especially if Jackson is no longer a problem. And I will work with him to get that pilot's license reissued. If you know the right people, anything is possible." There was no doubt about the sympathetic tone the Colonel detected in the other man's voice.
The idea that Cazador could so easily gain access to Murdock's files startled Hannibal.
He still has some friends in high places if he can do that. Which may help us get Jackson out of Murdock's life for good.
The businessman interrupted his thoughts. "I've made connections with a Doctor Richter at the hospital to see what I can do to get the Captain released into my care. I can find a psychiatrist in the Tucson area for him so his needs for further treatment would be met. Valuable talent like his should not be wasted."
"It hasn't been," the Colonel growled.
How do I get Cazador to retract his job offer without hurting Murdock in the process?
The ranch owner smiled at him. "You mean the times you somehow managed to get him out so he could fly you and your men somewhere? And after your job was done, what did you do? Send him right back to that hospital. I won't use him like that. I'll pay him and give him an opportunity to fly as much as he wants. He can even stay here at the ranch until he feels he can live on his own."
"You'll have him flying your illegal arms overseas . . . "
Cazador shook his head. "If Captain Murdock wishes not to engage in that activity, I won't force him. His job will be to get me where I need to be. And he'll teach my grandson how to fly helicopters as well as planes. I know only so much and I want my grandson to learn from the best."
Hannibal had to admit to himself that Cazador's offer was something the pilot dreamed about before their stay in the POW camp. Then the prison camp did something to the younger man's mind and the dreams became nightmares.
Maybe teaching the businessman's grandson would reawaken those dreams. Mentoring someone younger and teaching the youngster everything he knew was something the Colonel knew would satisfy Murdock very much.
But what will it mean for the team and our work? Would his employment come before the rest of us and the missions we take?
"My grandson, Colonel Smith." Cazador gestured with one hand toward an eight by ten inch framed photo in a prominent place on the wall. Hannibal nodded and walked over to take a closer look.
A boy, maybe eleven or twelve years old, beamed at the camera from the pilot's seat of a small airplane. His chocolate eyes gleamed with delight as his thin hands gripped the controls. The headphones partially flattened a tousled mop of black hair. A man in tinted aviator glasses sat in the copilot's seat with his own headset over his ears, his mind intent on the instrument panel.
"That was taken on his tenth birthday just this year." Cazador's voice came from immediately behind him and the Colonel resisted the urge to look at him. Instead, he focused on the boy in the picture.
Looks like the kind of kid that Murdock would love to teach. Full of enthusiasm and a sense of adventure.
"And the man with him is . . . was . . . Jesse Warner, my pilot . . . " Cazador's voice stopped for a second and Hannibal swung his gaze toward him. The ranch owner stared at the photo for a while before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "He was a good man, Colonel Smith. Not as talented as Captain Murdock but trustworthy and a friend." Cazador pierced the other man with a hard glare. "He wasn't just an employee. If Captain Murdock accepts my offer, he wouldn't be either. I treat those employees who are nearest to my family as members of my family."
Hannibal turned his eyes back to the photo, sidestepping the issue of Murdock's possible employment for the time being. "Your grandson likes flying, I take it?"
"Jesse was teaching him the basic pre-flight routines in that picture. He took him up that day and let him man the controls for a few seconds. It was like a dream come true for Tonio. He couldn't stop talking about it for weeks. But if my wife or his mother, God rest their souls, would have known before they went up . . . " The businessman shrugged and chuckled.
Neither man said anything for several moments. "Your wife and Tonio's parents . . . ?"
"My wife died of cancer four years ago. It spread throughout her body before we knew what was wrong. A few months of suffering and then she was gone." Cazador paused, his gaze distant.
"I'm sorry," Hannibal murmured. There was something about Cazador's willingness to talk about his family that slowly changed the Colonel's opinion about him.
With less intensity than earlier he reminded himself, But what he's done is illegal.
"Tonio's mother, my daughter, died in an automobile accident a year before this photo was taken. Tonio needed something to bury himself in and reading everything he could about flying became an outlet for his grief. It hasn't . . . " Cazador swallowed once and continued. "It hasn't been easy for the boy." He coughed to recover his voice. "And, of course, I spoil him and his little sister Mia. Mia's only eight. She's the one that loves the book Peter Pan that the Captain was looking at when I first met him."
"And their father?" Hannibal figured he knew the answer to that. Just because a man and his son shared the same house didn't mean they supported each other in their grief. More than likely the father kept busy to avoid the subject. The little girl probably was the woman of the house now as far as housework.
At least, in Hannibal's experience that was what often happened when the adult female of the house unexpectedly died.
"My son-in-law, Tonio's father, manages one of my machine shops in Tucson. I don't know if you're familiar with Cazador Enterprises but we supply payload latch springs to the aerospace industry for the space shuttle. Of course, we're not as big as Northrup Grumman, Lockheed Martin or Raytheon but who knows in a few years if NASA begins to look to Mars or elsewhere for future exploration?" Cazador was obviously trying his best to steer the topic away from the sorrow which had descended upon his family in the past four years.
Hannibal decided to let him. "And that's how you met up with Jackson?"
"He knew of my overseas connections and became the liaison between me and those who wished to have the government change in a certain country." Cazador frowned as he remembered Hanson's attempt to take his life. "I made a profit, yes, but Jackson guaranteed I would never be implicated in anything if the operation was discovered." The businessman gave Hannibal a sad smile. "But I guess you know personally that a government deal can be reneged at any time. I didn't know then, but I know now."
"You do realize Captain Murdock is pressing me to help you escape any ties to this, don't you? He threatened to fly you and your family to safety as soon as his surgery was done and he was able."
"You would stop him?" Cazador turned his eyes directly on the Colonel. He raised his eyebrows and waited for the answer.
"Yes. But not because of you. Because after a near-death experience and all he's been through, he needs to recuperate, not be on the run as a fugitive." Hannibal met the businessman's gaze with a chilling stare.
"So . . . ?"
"For some reason . . . maybe it's your job offer, maybe it's because he sees something worthwhile in you . . . Murdock wants you to escape any kind of punishment for smuggling weapons." The Colonel scrubbed at his face with one hand. "He usually isn't a poor judge of character. You haven't completely proven yourself to me but I'm not going to go against his wishes on this. You can thank my Lieutenant and Captain Murdock for convincing me to go after the big fish in this operation and leave you alone."
Cazador bowed his head briefly in acknowledgment of the reprieve. "Thank you, Smith, on behalf of myself, my son and my grandchildren. Now how do we get Jackson to admit his complicity in smuggling Army weapons?"
Hannibal shook his head. "I don't know. Murdock wants to talk to me about something he had planned. I don't know what it is. If you want to join me when I talk to him, we can at least set his mind at ease about what will happen to you."
"And what about my job offer? Will you allow him to consider it?" Cazador searched the other man's face for an answer.
The Colonel sighed. "We aren't in the Army anymore. If he wishes to be your pilot and your grandson's flight instructor, I'm not going to stand in his way."
As they left the room together, Hannibal felt his gut tighten, knowing Murdock had a hard decision to make. He wasn't sure what the Captain's decision would be.