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 84 Phone Calls
"And now, I'll make that call to the authorities." Cazador paused, his hand over the rotary dial. "That is, if you're ready for me to do that."
Murdock was still in a foggy daze and the ranch owner didn't know what was wrong. He was reluctant to go ahead without the man in front of him being aware of what he was doing.
I'm going to earn your trust, Captain. Somehow, some way, I want to show you I can be as trustworthy as your Colonel Smith. I have to or you'll never agree to stay on and be my personal pilot and Tonio's flying instructor.
The pilot flinched as if something exploded in his face. His eyes slowly focused back on the businessman. "Ya ain' givin' 'em much time t' clear th' area if ya call right now, are ya?"
The Captain was correct. The cave was near the end of a one-way-in, one-way-out road. Once on the East Hilton Ranch Road the team could find a way to elude anyone pursuing them, especially under the cover of night. There were a few offshoots from the main road they could use.
But they have to move fast or they'll run into the authorities coming to find them.
Cazador glanced at the partially parted drapes at the window. Although darkness still made many things indistinguishable, the sky was graying. It would be an hour before the sun came up.
"You said your plan had to be executed with precision or it would fall apart. Your Colonel knows they have to be quick about what they're doing. I've already given them almost a half hour to find the cave and place Jackson in it." Cazador replaced the receiver into its cradle. "Look, Captain. Jackson will wake up some time and the idea was to have the military there shortly before or after he did so he couldn't escape. Right?"
"No. You look, Mister Cazador." Murdock's voice rose as he continued. "I don' know what's happenin' with Hann'bal 'n' I don' wanna run th' risk o' my buddies bein' caught. So 'scuse me for bein' a li'l careful 'bout their lives."
The speech took quite a bit of effort. Cazador noted the pilot sagged into the pillows after he finished his tirade. Pale and trembling, Murdock managed a fierce glare to prevent the ranch owner from moving ahead with the plans. Cazador could tell there was no real threat behind the look.
Ah, so that's it. He's worried about his leader. I wonder what happened to Smith. It must have been something life-threatening from how Captain Murdock is reacting.
"I understand your concern. You've been with them for . . . what? . . . over ten years? You'd do anything to ensure their freedom." The ranch owner pursed his lips and sat back in the armchair for a moment. "What if I call to see if they're on their way back? I can have them call this number as soon as they leave the East Hilton Ranch Road and get back on the main highway. I'll call the authorities when we're sure they're home free. Is that acceptable to you?"
The pilot closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping from his mouth, before nodding. "That'll have t' do, I s'pose." The words were almost a weary whisper. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again and reached to grip Cazador's wrist. "When ya call, ask 'em 'bout Hann'bal. If he's 'wake, put me on th' line. I wanna talk t' him."
Cazador tightened his lips and frowned.
He's very loyal to Smith. He might not be as willing to leave his team to work for me. Maybe once he meets Tonio and Mia in the morning, he'll warm to the idea. And I already told him he can go with his team for a few days whenever I don't need him. It's just a matter of scheduling.
"Can I call them now?" The arms smuggler picked up the receiver and held it, waiting for a response.
Just take your time with him. Show him you can be trusted.
As soon as he saw the weak nod, he redialed the number Murdock had given him.
This time a masculine voice answered, one Cazador recognized from their talk together in his office. "Where are you?" he asked, keeping one eye on Murdock as he did. When the pilot raised his eyebrows in a silent question, the ranch owner mouthed, "It's your Colonel. He's awake."
Murdock's eyes widened. In a second he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed for the phone. Not willing to fight him for it, the ranch owner backed away, the receiver still in his hand. "Get back in bed, Captain," he hissed. "I'll give you the phone as soon as I find out where they are."
Reluctantly, the pilot lay down again, watching the other man carefully, a small pout on his lips as he waited his turn.
After listening for a few minutes, Cazador said, "He did, did he? Well, if he escaped, I'm sure he won't head back here. He knows what would happen to him." Another pause and then, "I'll tell Dennie to be ready as soon as you arrive. You call me as soon as you get to the main highway. I won't call your friends in green until then . . . Okay . . . "
Murdock rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He gestured frantically for the phone as Cazador told the man on the other end the number to call and began to wrap up the conversation. "Don' hang up! Let me talk t' him." His voice cracked with emotion.
Silently handing the receiver to him, the ranch owner scrutinized the pilot's expression.
Elated that his Colonel is awake but there's something else there. Maybe a little . . . guilt? What would he have to feel guilty for?
"Hann'bal?" Murdock gulped before saying anything more. "How . . . How're ya feelin'? . . . A headache, huh? . . . " A brief flicker of remorse passed across his face, something Cazador noted with puzzlement.
The pilot scowled as he listened. "Yer hightailin' it back here 'cause of . . . well, what happened t' her? . . . " Cazador kept his mouth shut. Smith had told him what Stafford did to Miss Allen.
That bastard is definitely not welcome here.
Murdock's gaze flickered to the businessman. He clenched his fist around the phone cord, his jaw tightening as Hannibal spoke. The pilot mumbled something under his breath then said, "Jus' tell B. A. t' get 'er here quick as he can . . . " He paused, worry heavy in his voice. " . . . 'N' if Amy's 'wake, tell 'er I'm sorry I got 'er inta this mess . . . yeah . . . I'll see ya."
The Captain seemed drained as he passed the receiver back to Cazador. He collapsed back into the pillows and stared up at the ceiling.
He seemed so deep in thought that the ranch owner wasn't sure Murdock remembered the other phone call that had to be made.
"I know that road they're on. Even if your Sergeant takes his time over the rougher spots, it shouldn't be any more than about ten or fifteen minutes before I can call the military." The businessman gently hung the phone up in its cradle.
Murdock shuddered and slung an arm over his forehead. "Soon's this's over, th' better," he murmured without a single glance at the other man.
Cazador sat back in the chair and checked the time on his watch. "Okay, then. As soon as I get the go-ahead, I'll call and let the MPs know where to find the A-team."
The man laying on the bed didn't react. He closed his eyes, weariness keeping him silent and motionless. "So I guess we gotta wait," he mumbled more to himself than to the arms smuggler.
The ranch owner stared at him, surprised.
Did he hear what I said?
oooooo
Gotta wait . . . gotta wait . . .
If he wasn't so weak from the surgery, he would have been on his feet, pacing out the seconds before Hannibal called again to let the ranch owner know they were safe. Something about what Mister Cazador said sounded wrong.
Murdock was trying hard to hold himself together. He was running out of strength. Not only that but he felt like he was slowly being tugged into a downward spiral of confusion. His brain was being taxed to its limit with worry for the guys and Amy, with thoughts about everything that could still go wrong with the plan.
This's gotta end soon. Can ya see 'em, Billy?
He listened for an answer, keeping his expression smooth as if he was relaxing. He was the furthest thing from being relaxed there was. His heart thumped faster than the heart of a jack rabbit with its hind leg caught in a slip noose.
Billy?
His spirit brother wasn't answering. Maybe he was keeping watch over Jackson to make sure he wouldn't wake before the authorities got there.
I can' 'spect Billy t' come every time I call 'im, can I? I mean, angels got more 'portant things t' do, don' they?
Cazador got up from his chair and strolled over to the window. Murdock heard the movement and followed him with his eyes.
Opening the drapes wider, Cazador absently stared into the predawn gray. Several minutes passed with both men remaining silent. "I hope your Sergeant friend Baracus hasn't broken an axle or blown a tire on that road," he finally muttered.
The pilot envisioned all too well the consequences of something like that happening. He swallowed heavily over the thought of Jackson waking up. Murdock hoped the false memories he planted would prevent the Colonel from doing anything more than walking away from the cave into the wilderness.
"B. A.'s good. He keeps that van in tip-top shape. He'd put it t'gether with spit 'n' chewin' gum 'n' get it back here, anythin' like that'd happen." He wasn't sure if he was saying that to reassure himself or convince Cazador.
"But a broken axle . . . "
"He'd do it, I said!" Murdock hadn't intended to yell. He saw from the ranch owner's reaction that he was equally surprised. Shaking his head, he tried to think of some way to apologize.
If Mister Cazador's gonna be my boss . . .
Before he could say or think anything more, the phone rang. Murdock dove at the bedside table and swept the receiver into his hand as Cazador hurried to answer it. "I got it . . . Colonel? . . . " He closed his eyes, a relieved sigh escaping his mouth. "Oh God'm I glad t' hear yer voice. Ya ain' had any trouble, have ya? Are ya on th' main road yet? . . . " His worried frown melted into a smile as he listened. "Good, good . . . I'll tell Mister Cazador . . . "
He was about to relinquish the phone to the businessman when Amy's image flashed in his mind. "Uh, gotta ask ya one more thing, Colonel . . . how's Amy?"
He felt Cazador's gaze on him as Hannibal spoke. "Okay . . . " he mumbled, his heart sinking. He swiped a hand over his eyes. "Tell Face t' try 'n' get 'er t' wake up 'nough t' hear me. 'N' put th' phone close t' her ear."
"What are you doing? We have to call the authorities." Cazador sank into the armchair but made no move to take the phone away.
Murdock shook his head mutely as he waited. He held a hand up to prevent Cazador from talking. "Amy? Sweetie, ya gotta listen. Don' go t' sleep. It ain' good for ya t' sleep right now." He heard his own voice rise with the effort of keeping her awake.
A soft slurred "Murdock?" made his heart beat harder.
"Hey, sweetie. I got a song jus' for you. I want ya t' listen real good 'n' sing 'long if ya know it." Something wet streaked down one of his cheeks but he ignored it.
What kinda song's gonna keep 'er goin'? Think, Murdock! Think! Maybe . . . Queen? Sorry, Freddie. Gonna hafta change the name in th' song t' protect th' innocent. Hope ya don' mind.
"Here goes." He took a deep breath and started to sing.
"Face walks warily down th' street with th' brim pulled way down low
Ain' no soun' but th' sound o' his feet, machine gun's ready t' go
Are ya ready? Hey're ya ready for this?
Are ya hangin' on th' edge o' yer seat? . . . "
"Murdock?" The same slurred feminine voice interrupted him. "I'm . . . awake now." He heard a swallow and a weak laugh on the other end of the line. "That was . . . sweet . . . an' crazy. And, yeah . . . I do . . . I do know the song . . . but my . . . head hurts . . . really bad . . . "
"Well, from personal experience I can tell ya. Bein' beaned with somethin' hard'll do that to ya." He was glad to hear a small snort of amusement from her. He glanced at the waiting ranch owner and grimaced. "I hafta give th' phone over t' Mister Cazador but ya gotta promise me not t' worry Faceman 'n' fall 'sleep b'fore ya get here, 'kay?" He closed his eyes again, concentrating on the sounds coming over the receiver.
Maybe if I focus on Amy, I can keep 'er 'wake 'n' figure how far 'way the guys are at th' same time.
"I'll try, Murdock," she whispered. He heard the sound of the phone changing hands.
Face's voice came over the receiver. "Hey, buddy."
The pilot tightened his grip on the phone. Face sounded like he was trying to keep his nerves under control but failing miserably. The con man continued talking in a lower voice. "As soon as we're back at the ranch, I'll pop in to see how you're doing. Okay?"
Murdock was fairly sure the statement was more of a question than a promise. He peeked at Cazador before answering. "When ya get back t' th' ranch, you gotta stay with Amy, make sure she's alright. Don' worry 'bout me. B'sides, if I know Hann'bal, he'll be d'vidin' his time 'tween my room 'n' hers, makin' sure both o' us are behavin'." He thought he could almost hear Face smile faintly on the other end of the line. One more reassurance wouldn't hurt. "I'm doin'fine. Don' worry."
He knew they were taking up valuable time but the lives of his friends were more important to him than Colonel Jackson. "Do me a favor, would ya? Sing 'Nother One Bites th' Dust' t' Amy every time it looks like she's gonna fall 'sleep. Ya know it, don'tcha?"
"Yes. I think I do. Wasn't that the thing you kept singing on the way back to L. A. after our last mission? The one that made B. A. threaten to makeyou eat dust if you didn't stop?"
Murdock smiled at the memory. "Yeah, that's th' one."
"You sang it so many times, I don't think I could ever forget it but I can't sing it quite like you did."
"That's alright. Jus' do it 'n' she's guaranteed not t' fall 'sleep. I mean, it ain' like a lullaby."
Cazador coughed gently and pointed at the watch on his wrist.
Nodding at him, Murdock finished the call. "I gotta hang up now, muchacho. Tell B. A. t' keep th' wheels on th' road." Without another word, he gave the phone to the ranch owner and eased himself back onto the pillows.
Cazador glanced at a slip of paper as he dialed. The pilot relaxed, settling in so he could focus on Amy and try to direct his thoughts to helping her stay awake.
The next minute, he pushed himself back into a sitting position against the headboard as Cazador spoke into the mouthpiece. He stared at the ranch owner with a sense of numb horror.
"Yes. I'd like to speak to the person in charge of searching for Colonel John Smith and his two men, Peck and Baracus . . . yes, the A-team that's been in the news. Yes, thank you. I'll wait."