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 88
B. A. knocked twice with a tightly clenched fist that rattled the wooden door in its frame. He didn't bother to wait for an invitation to come in.
The con man sharply glanced up at the scowling face and reached out to the woman in the bed to quiet her. She frowned in pain and twisted her head back and forth on the pillow. Her eyes still shut against her surroundings, she moaned, "Face?"
"What do you want?" Face hissed at B. A. as he stroked the hair back from Amy's forehead. "Shh, shh, shh, sweetheart. It's just B. A. Go back to sleep for now." He watched her as she clutched the bedspread with her good hand. A tear slid down her temple from the corner of her eye.
"Gotta have ya come talk ta the fool. I think Cazador's got 'im convinced inta workin' for him." B. A. hesitated, seeing how restless the reporter was from the noise he made moments before. "Hey, man. I'm sorry. Didn' mean ta get her all worked up."
"Yeah. Well, I just got her back to sleep. Next time be a little quieter, would you? Loud noises can't be good for her concussion." The con man returned his attention to Amy. After making sure she was calming down, he whispered, "Now what are you talking about, B. A.?"
"Cazador had his gran'kids in the room waitin' for the fool ta wake up. I didn' see no harm in it. They were bein' quiet. Then he started actin' all protective over them."
Face stared pointedly at the Sergeant. Finally, B. A. mumbled, "I mighta scared 'em just a little. I thought they woke him up." The big man scowled. "He sent me out ta watch for Hann'bal so he could talk ta Cazador in private. Job's the only thing I can think of that he'd wanna talk ta him about. Even had Cazador send the kids ta the kitchen so they could be alone ta talk."As B. A. explained , he saw the con man's mouth set in a grim line.
"Murdock can't be serious about working for Cazador. You must have misunderstood."
"Look, Faceman. I don't do the mind reader stuff Murdock does but I think I know 'im well 'nough ta know when he's 'bout ta make the biggest mistake of his life."
The conman examined his concerned expression for only a moment. Running his hand over the surface of his hair, he gazed longingly at Amy.
"I'll watch her." B. A. was glad not to have to return to that atmosphere of mistrust.
Face leaned forward to give Amy a gentle kiss. Despite her pain, he was rewarded when the corners of her lips twitched upward.
"Face?" she whimpered, feeling for his hand. Grasping it, she sighed and the tension in her expression relaxed.
"Sweetie, I've got to go and talk to Murdock for a few minutes. B. A. will be right here if you need anything. If you need me, he'll come and get me. I won't be far away." He held her hand to his lips and kissed each of her fingers before carefully setting her hand at her side on top of the blanket.
"She'll be okay, Faceman. But Murdock won't if he agrees ta take that job." B. A. sat down in the chair the Lieutenant vacated.
"If she wakes up and wants me, you know where to find me." Taking one last long look at the sleeping reporter, Face slipped out the door.
oooooo
"You know your Colonel won't be very pleased you accepted my offer." Cazador settled back in the chair and scrutinized the pilot's pallid face.
Murdock swallowed hard. Of course, he realized Hannibal would not like the arrangement he had just agreed to. He averted his gaze to the multi-colored quilt covering him.
It'll jus' take a li'l time for all o' us t' adapt to it.
Cazador continued. "I want you to be absolutely sure you want the job. I've agreed to all your terms but if you have any doubts . . . "
The pilot slowly shook his head. "I wanna fly. Right now th' only time I get to is when Hann'bal has a mission that we can' drive to." Realizing Cazador still didn't know the extent of his confinement in the VA hospital, he quickly added, "'N' I'd feel honored t' teach yer gran'son what I know. He sure is eager t' learn. R'minds me o' when I started out, learning how t' fly a crop duster."
"Eager?" The ranch owner smiled proudly. "He is. Can't get enough of the world of flying." Cazador studied Murdock's troubled expression for a few moments. "Tonio seems to have taken a big liking to you. Mia, too. They didn't form that sort of attachment that quickly with Mister Warner. I think you'll fit in here at the ranch very well."
Murdock had to admit that the two children seemed to have instantly trusted him.
'N' it'd be fun teachin' someone who's so interested in flyin'.
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Think it's Hann'bal?" Murdock stared at the door, not sure if he was ready to confront the Colonel with his decision and what it would mean to the team.
Instead of answering him, Cazador called out, "Come in."
Murdock was surprised to see Face at the door. That could mean one of two things. Either Amy was conscious and doing well enough that the Lieutenant felt comfortable leaving her side for a few minutes or . . .
"B. A. sent ya, didn' he. He thinks I'm makin' a mistake, don' he?" The pilot scrutinized his friend's pale haggard face and noted his grim expression. Gesturing impatiently to the other armchair, Murdock invited the con man to sit.
Now I'm gonna hear it. Maybe he'll hol' back a li'l if Mister Cazador stays.
"You can take my seat, Lieutenant. I'll go and see if there is any sign of your Colonel or the MPs." Cazador smiled at the pilot as he opened his mouth to argue. "It's alright, Captain. You and the Lieutenant should talk about this. We'll discuss what we need to do to get you moved out here a little later."
The businessman left the room as Face settled gingerly into the armchair he vacated. Locking eyes with the con man, Murdock waited for him to speak first. For several seconds Face examined his friend's expression, then sighed.
"This is what you want to do? Leave Los Angeles. Leave California . . . leave the team . . . "
Murdock felt a hot flush of anger creep into his cheeks. "It ain' like that. Mister Cazador said whenever Hann'bal needs me for a mission, I can go."
"And how is that going to work out? Do we drive eight hours, over five hundred miles, just to have you fly us where we need to go? Unless our mission is out-of-country or on the East Coast, it isn't going to happen. Especially not if B. A. has a say in it. He'll insist on using the van if it's in the States." Face shook his head in frustration. "You aren't thinking this through very well. "
Clenching his hands into tight white-knuckled fists, Murdock snapped, "If that's all ya need me for is flyin' ya back 'n' forth, how's that any diff'rent from what Mister Cazador wants me t' do? 'N' this way I get t' teach someone how t' fly b'sides."
"Without your pilot's license? . . . or have you forgotten about that?"
"A li'l thing that Mister Cazador 'n' me can get taken care o' once I'm free." Once he said it, he wasn't sure why he used that word.
Free? Is th' VA hospital like a prison? Is that what I really feel?
Noticing his friend's frown, Murdock realized Face wondered at the word choice as well. When the Lieutenant spoke again, it was with a small amount of confusion.
"I thought the hospital was like a home to you. I remember the time that one patient thought he was a psychiatrist and managed to get into one of the doctor's offices. Remember how relieved you were that the papers he signed releasing you weren't worth the paper they were printed on? Remember how relieved you were to get your old room back?"
The pilot picked at the quilt covering him, thinking about what his friend said. Sure, he remembered that.
But that was b'fore. . . now I got a place I can stay . . . 'n' a real job . . . 'n' somethin' that makes me feel like I ain' invisible . . . like I'm worth havin' 'round all th' time . . .
He hadn't thought much about that. When the newspaper headlines spoke of the fugitive A-team, he wasn't included. Until now, he wasn't aware of how insignificant that made him feel. How could he explain something like that to his best friend?
I can' b'cause they ain' ever lived th' life I have. They won' ever understan' what it's like.
"Do you really think you're like a prisoner back at the VA?" Face spoke softly and Murdock was aware the con man leaned forward as he said it, trying to get him to make eye contact. "We can try to get you out more often, not just for missions, but just to relax and have fun."
The pilot heard his friend's last words but he was still mulling over in his mind the thought of him being a prisoner in the hospital psych ward.
Life at the VA was predictable, routine. At one time, he needed that. At one time, his mind was so far gone, being dependent on the doctors and nurses for everything really didn't matter.
But, yeah, he was still being told when to get up in the morning, when to go to bed and shut the lights off, what pills to take and when to take them, what to eat . . . and constantly under some sort of supervision . . . notes being written down about anything that wasn't what a normal person would do . . .
T' be able t' leave my room 'n' go inta town t' have a hamburger 'n' choc'late milkshake, extra thick, with a fat juicy maraschino cherry on top . . . whenever I feel like it . . . no orderlies chasin' me 'r wranglin' me back t' my room 'r inta a straight jacket . . .
Several memories went through Murdock's mind all at once. All the times the nurses and orderlies thought he was out of control and it took four or five of them to wrestle him to the floor. All the times he was confined to his bed, restrained by leather cuffs to the bed frame. All the times he was doped up with haloperidol or something else that made the nightmares and flashbacks come out of hiding. He shivered involuntarily.
'N' sometimes that was jus' so Lynch'd be distracted 'n' th' guys could get outta there quick.
He heard Face clear his throat and looked up in time to see the blue eyes worriedly analyzing him. "The hospital isn't a prison, buddy. Doctor Richter and the others are there to help you."
Murdock shook his head to clear it. "I took Mister Cazador's job offer already, Faceman. It's a done deal. No goin' back." Raising a hand to stop his friend's protests, the pilot continued. "Ev'ry bird in a cage wants t' be free t' fly. Well, I wanna know if I can live outside o' the cage. I wanna fly. I wanna have my freedom."
Face frowned as he opened his mouth to respond.
The pilot braced himself for another argument against his decision.
I made my choice. Gentlemen's agreement. Can' go back on Mister Cazador now. 'N' what would I say t' Tonio? He'd be so disappointed.
Murdock was surprised to find he had so easily formed a bond with the ranch owner's grandchildren.
I mean, me 'n' Cyndy talked 'bout havin' kids . . . lots of 'em . . . when I came back . . .
He hadn't thought about the love of his youth for a long time. Her memory was still sweet in his mind even if he purposely blocked it out to prevent his heart from aching over what he lost.
She's prob'ly married 'n' had those loads o' kids with someone else by now. Can' see a pretty gal like my Buttercup . . .
He bit his lower lip thinking about her and knowing it would never be the same again, even if he did go back.
. . . correction . . . Cyndy . . . not bein' chased after by ev'ry 'vailable bachelor in Sour Lake 'n' Beaumont . . .
But he had made his decision in his final weeks in Nam not to subject her to his flashbacks and nightmares. He knew without Face, Hannibal and B. A. there to keep him grounded, he was tiptoeing on the edge of insanity. And once they had been taken into custody for the Bank of Hanoi fiasco, the flashbacks and nightmares were a daily and nightly occurrence driving him even closer to madness. He loved Cyndy too much to marry her and put her through that.
The thought of Cyndy, intruding like it did into the argument, made his eyes blurry. Hiding them from his friend, he wiped the tears away while pretending to rub the bridge of his nose.
"What are you thinking about?" Face's voice, so full of worry, sounded like it came from another room or maybe from another time.
Another knock at the door startled both men.
Abruptly jerked away from the ache his thoughts had caused, Murdock snapped, "Might as well come on in, whoever ya are. Th' crazy bus loads here. D'parture time: oh-600."
When the door opened it was Hannibal on the other side. He stood with his hand on the knob, his gaze taking in the two friends and, Murdock realized, his own sorrowful expression. "I thought you'd like to know, Captain. I just got back from monitoring the activity out at the mine where we left Jackson. He's now in the custody of the United States Army. I watched as they handcuffed him and took him away."
Murdock nodded mutely and scrubbed his face with both hands. "Well, least that's one thing I don' hafta think 'bout," he mumbled.
"Yeah," Face groused, crossing his arms and glowering at his friend. "Small relief. You've got much bigger things to worry about. Might as well have a seat, Colonel. Maybe between both of us, we can keep him from destroying the team."