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 79 Cazador Takes Charge
He was glad no one spoke during the rest of the trip to the hospital. The voices in his head accused him enough. He didn't need anyone in the van reminding him of what he did to cause the older man in the front seat to fall asleep.
Why'd I have t' go 'n' ask Amy 'n' Face t' dope Hann'bal? Hope Amy didn' give 'im an overdose.
Kneeling on the van floor, one hand on Hannibal's shoulder, Murdock trained anxious eyes on his CO. He breathed in perfect synchrony with the Colonel. He couldn't help it. He expected any moment to have to perform CPR if the older man should show signs of respiratory distress or heart failure.
What if he never wakes up? I was th' one that tol' her t' do it. She ain' really t' blame. I am.
The thought was almost too much to bear. Under his breath he continued to mutter a mantra of fear-driven words. "C'mon, Colonel. Wake up . . . "
He looked up in surprise when B. A. stopped the van and growled, "We're here." The time had passed way too quickly.
I'm not ready! I can' leave Hann'bal like this, not knowin' if Amy overdid it on th' meds.
"And there's Stafford and Willis to meet us just like they said they would." Murdock heard Face's words and felt the con man's hand on his shoulder. "You can't do anything about the Colonel right now, buddy. But don't worry. We'll keep an eye on him. Won't we, B. A.?"
A wave of jeering voices in his head tried to outdo his friend's assurances.
The Sergeant grunted. "Woulda been easier if Hannibal was awake. Means someone's gotta be out here watchin' him an' not in there."
Murdock looked through the windshield to see Willis speak to Cazador and gesture at a wheelchair he brought with him. Then Stafford and the doctor strapped an unconscious Jackson to a gurney Stafford wheeled out and hustled the Colonel through the back doors to the pre-surgery room.
The pilot took a deep breath.
They didn' waste any time gettin' Jackson in there. Guess I'm nex'. But how can I leave Hann'bal? 'N' what'll I do if he doesn' wake up?
With a grimace, he noticed Cazador's surprised look when he approached the van with the chair and saw Hannibal out cold.
B. A. opened his door and stepped out. He flexed his muscles as if readying himself to defend his team no matter what. His ever-present scowl deepened as Cazador wheeled the chair next to the front passenger's door and set the brakes. The businessman pursed his lips as if pondering something before opening the side door. Murdock wondered what he was thinking.
He can' be thinkin' how easy it'd be t' turn th' guys in with Hann'bal out cold. Can he?
"Is everything alright, Captain?" The ranch owner nodded toward the front seat. "Will your Colonel be joining us?"
Murdock swallowed and shook his head, at a loss for words. He choked out a "no" past the bile that rose in his throat and gave Hannibal's shoulder one more shake before giving up.
Numbly, he slid toward the side door. Face said something in a worried tone as the pilot wobbled to his feet. He wanted Hannibal there outside the operating room but he knew from the looks of it, the Colonel wouldn't be.
He glanced around the darkened parking lot at the few vacant cars. The globes of light atop their poles cast soft pools of illumination on the asphalt and glinted off glass and chrome. Nothing was in focus. He wished the world would stop spinning.
Cazador slipped an arm around his waist and kept him from falling. "I've got you. Let me help you to the chair."
Murdock concentrated on keeping his feet shuffling along the pavement and not tripping both of them up.
He heard Face mutter something angrily behind him. As soon as he was seated in the chair, he tried to crane his head around to locate B. A. The Sergeant was almost at Murdock's left elbow.
"You okay, fool?" The voice had a strange quality to it . . . maybe worry?
Murdock held back a half-hearted smile, knowing B. A. didn't want him to know what feelings were hiding behind the tough guy façade. "Aw, don'tcha worry 'bout me, Big Guy. I'm gonna be fine. I want ya t' keep an eye on th' Colonel . . . make sure he don' stop breathin' 'r anythin' like that. Keep tryin' t' wake 'im up. 'Kay?"
"I'll spell you if the surgery takes over an hour. Okay, B. A.?" Face spoke from somewhere to his right but Murdock couldn't see around Cazador to find his friend.
"You better, sucka." B. A. still had that anxious tone.
"I'll make sure he does." Amy's voice was softer, maybe regretful now that she knew how serious Hannibal's condition might be.
He wished he could take her hand and tell her everything was going to be alright. The two of them had been through hell from the moment Jackson's men captured them in the office building. Her broken wrist and sunburned face was proof of what they had gone through. And him? Murdock shuddered at the faint memories of everything he had experienced, knowing that it wasn't over until the implant was removed.
Amy shouldn' hafta bear all o' Hann'bal's anger when he wakes up.
"We'd better get in there. We don't need anyone wondering why we're all standing out here in the middle of the night." Cazador released the brakes on the chair and maneuvered it toward the hospital doors. From the crunch of grit, Murdock knew Face and Amy were following closely behind them.
Face mumbled another angry comment to Amy. Murdock knew his buddy wasn't happy about the personal interest Cazador was taking in his recovery. He clenched his hands into fists in his lap.
It don' mean Mister Cazador owns me. Face's gotta understan' that.
Halfway across the lot, Cazador leaned over close to Murdock's ear. "The job offer still stands, Captain. When you're done with this surgery, we'll talk about it. Okay? My grandson would be delighted to learn from you."
Or does it?
oooooo
B. A. watched Cazador personally roll the wheelchair toward the hospital doors. Halfway there, the ranch owner bent to speak into the pilot's ear. Whatever he said, the Sergeant could see Murdock nod wearily and slump in the chair a little more.
From the look the Lieutenant gave the businessman's retreating back, B. A. knew Face despised the way Cazador took over.
He wrestled Hannibal's unconscious body into the back passenger's area of the van and made him as comfortable as he could on the floor. Pulling a blanket over him to his chest, the Sergeant frowned down at him, then shut the door.
He didn't like what Amy had done but she was right: neither Face nor he would have doped the Colonel like Murdock asked them to do in his feverish state.
How was she s'posed ta know the fool'd change his mind?
And now he had to monitor Hannibal to make sure the etomidate Amy injected into the cigar didn't kill him. Not being able to be there outside the operating room bothered him. He wasn't about to admit to any of the rest that he didn't want to hear second-hand that Murdock died as a result of the surgery.
Fool'd better stay alive. I didn't give him all that blood for him ta die now.
Pulling open the driver's door, B. A. climbed into the seat and settled himself so he could keep an eye on the gentle rise and fall of Hannibal's chest as he slept. He focused on the Colonel and buried his worried thoughts over what was happening in the hospital.
oooooo
Murdock watched anxiously as Willis prepped him for the operation that was to come. Cazador stood at the foot of the bed, a grim look on his face, his hands in his pockets. Amy and Face hovered over the pilot on his left side.
The Lieutenant's arm rested over Amy's shoulders but his eyes were searching his friend's expression for any hint of distress.
The pilot fixed a lopsided smile on his face and patted the con man on his forearm. "Ya know, I ain' seen ya this worried since th' time I was flyin' that biplane 'n' you were shootin' th' propellor blades off." He tapped Face on the arm with one finger, emphasizing his words. "I didn' die then 'n' I ain' plannin' on doin' it now. Promise." He held three fingers up, his thumb and pinkie finger touching across his palm. "Scout's honor. So relax."
Face focused his gaze on Murdock's eyes and to his surprise discovered a hint of fear in them. Then the fear was gone, replaced by sadness. The brown eyes misted over as he repeated in a raspy voice, "Relax."
The Lieutenant shaped his mouth into something he hoped was a smile. "I will when you come out of that operating room singing something to annoy B. A."
Murdock chuckled softly. "If that's what it takes t' relax ya . . . "
"It's time, folks." Doctor Willis glanced at each of them and moved to the head of the gurney. "You can follow us as far as the surgical suite but then you'll have to remain outside."
Face swallowed as Murdock gave him a last reassuring smile. Before Willis could move the gurney an inch, the con man gripped the pilot's hand in his own and squeezed it. "I'm holding you to that promise, buddy."
The trip to the operating room was too short.
As Face watched his best friend disappear behind the doors, he absently slid his arm around Amy's waist and held her closer to his side. His mouth was dry. He stared through glazed eyes at the door. Amy gently led him toward the chairs positioned outside.
"You can't do anything now except wait." She kissed him on the cheek and entwined her fingers with his.
Cazador sank into the chair beside Amy. "Dennie's in there with Stafford and I trust him completely. He won't let anything happen."
Face snorted and leaned forward to glare at the businessman. "But this is a bit more involved than anything he's had to deal with as your doctor, isn't it? This is brain surgery."
The businessman frowned. "I was just trying to calm you down. I know how serious it is." He crossed his arms in a defensive posture.
Face settled back into the chair and rested his head against the wall. He closed his eyes for a moment to let his anger fade. There was no use arguing with Cazador. The best he could do was make sure the businessman stayed right where he was and made no calls.
Resignedly staring at the ceiling, Face tried to remember the Catholic prayers he memorized when he was growing up in the orphanage. Murdock would need them. Amy pressed close to his side and stroked his arm.
"Murdock's a fighter. He'll get through this, Face."
The Lieutenant turned his head away and swallowed thickly. After a few moments he nodded. "I know he will, Angel," he murmured. "I hope he will."
oooooo
"Breathe deeply and count backward from ten, Captain."
The mask over his nose and mouth, Murdock closed his eyes and fought the fear that rose up inside him. Several other surgeries he experienced while he was still at home in Sour Lake, Texas, and while he was serving over in Nam loomed in his memory.
The feeling of losing awareness, of not being able to protect himself against . . . no, he wouldn't let memories of his father and the beatings he had received from him make him push the hands away.
I ain' a li'l kid anymore. Pa can' hurt me.
He forced himself to breathe in the anesthesia.
Some things don' ever change, Murdock thought as he obeyed and felt the warm tingling comfort of unconsciousness wash over him.
Billy was somewhere in the room with him. He couldn't see him but he heard him as he drifted to sleep.
Don' worry 'bout nothin', brother. I'm right here with you. I ain' goin' nowhere.
"I know," Murdock tried to answer. The words came out as a soft sigh.