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 90

A week passed without incident. Hannibal, Face and B. A. took turns visiting with Murdock each day during some of the hours he was awake. The pilot couldn't help but notice that his decision to accept Cazador's job changed the atmosphere of their visits.

Hannibal treated him with cool courtesy. He didn't seem angry, just disapproving and formal.

Face spoke very little and let Murdock direct the conversations. Not even the pilot's light-hearted teasing about the nurse that Cazador hired to care for his medical needs made the con man smile like he used to.

Of the three of them, B. A. changed the most in how he treated Murdock. The pilot said the things that usually made B. A. threaten him but nothing brought out anything more than a halfhearted grunt from the big Sergeant. The man could barely look him in the eyes and seemed relieved when Murdock was finally sleepy enough to doze off. Most surprising was the hint of sadness the pilot saw in the Sergeant's expression.

Cazador and his grandchildren visited often. While Murdock enjoyed Tonio and Mia's company, he felt like he himself had changed inside. He lost his eternal optimism and cheerfulness and didn't know whether he would ever feel the same again. For the hundredth time, he wondered if he had made the right decision.

One day a timid knock on the door roused him out of a depressed meditation.

"Whoever it is, I'm sleepin'." He knew the statement didn't make sense but his team mates . . . he swallowed painfully as he thought about them . . . could he even call them that anymore? . . . his team mates would think it was just him behaving like he always did. Saying something that didn't make sense.

But this time he really didn't want company. Not the way his friends looked at him and tried to avoid any talk about missions, either in the past or in the future. It left very little to talk about.

"Murdock? It's me . . . Amy. Can't I come in?"

She sounded hesitant and still weak from the concussion the fugitive doctor gave her when he made his escape.

I can' jus' make 'er stand out there. I don' know that she won' pass out in th' hall. 'N' I got a feelin' she ain' gonna go back t' her own room without talkin' t' me.

He sighed and called out, "Come on in."

The door opened slowly. Murdock peered past the reporter to see if Face had accompanied her and saw no one else. That was a relief. He wondered how she managed to leave her bed without him following her, asking her what she thought she was doing.

When he focused on Amy he noticed how pale she was. He glimpsed the grayish white plaster cast on her arm and felt guilty, remembering how she came to have the injury.

All b'cause she was tryin' t' make sure I was safe.

She blindly reached out with both hands for the nearest armchair as if to use it for support.

In alarm, Murdock threw back the bed covers and hastily swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His intention was to steady her and help her get settled in the chair. He forgot how weak he still was from the events of the past two weeks.

Staggering to where Amy leaned over the back of the chair, he wrapped his arm around her waist and waited for her to recover. "I'm here. I gotcha. Not gonna letcha fall. Ya gonna be okay?" he murmured into her ear. He realized as he stood there that he might not have the strength to get back to the bed, let alone help her to her seat.

He saw black dots at the periphery of his vision. "Amy?" he gasped. "On the count o' three we both better try 'n' get ourselves sittin' down 'r we're gonna be layin' down on th' floor."

She nodded, a short jerky up and down movement that Murdock took as agreement. She closed her eyes, a bad sign.

Okay. So I guess I'm gonna hafta get us somewhere safe under my own power. She's jus' 'bout t' pass out on me.

Clutching her to himself, he breathed out the count. "Okay. Here goes . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . "

With Murdock's arm around her, they stumbled across the floor to the bed and fell belly down, side by side, on the mattress. After a few seconds to recover, Murdock carefully shifted onto his side and gazed at Amy. He smiled weakly at her apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry, Murdock. I thought I had recovered enough," she whispered.

The pilot tried to brush her apology off. Grinning, he murmured, "Now if my buddy was t' poke his head in 'n' saw us layin' here like this, how jealous d'ya think he'd be?" He reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of Amy's eyes. "I'm guessin' he don' know ya got up 'n' came down here t' see me. Am I right?"

She grimaced. "Face is being unreasonable. He won't let me out of bed, not even to go to the bathroom, without him escorting me to make sure I don't pass out."

"If what I jus' saw means anythin', I guess he's got good reason." Murdock sobered, his gaze softening as he looked into her eyes. "But I'm glad we're gonna get th' chance t' talk without any o' th' guys listenin' in. I wanted t' talk t' ya . . . 'bout . . . somethin'."

He glanced over at the door, then back at her. "Jus' t' be safe, soon's ya feel up t' it, maybe ya'd better sit in that chair. Don' want Faceman thinkin' we've been up t' somethin' b'hind his back."

The reporter smiled back at him. "You may be right." She carefully moved until she sat up on the edge of the bed.

"Take yer time, sweetie. Don' push it too fast." Murdock frowned with concern.

Why's Amy a'ways gotta try 'n' prove she's as tough as th' rest o' us. Well, I can' pick 'er up off th' floor if she passes out. I ain' got th' strength t' do it.

He anxiously watched as she took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet, propelling herself clumsily toward the chair. She collapsed in it and laid her head back, eyes closed.

"Ya okay, Amy?" He knew he couldn't attempt to get to his feet to make sure how she was. When she nodded, he sighed thankfully.

"Ya had me worried." With painful slowness he maneuvered himself into bed and pulled up the covers. Once settled into the pillows, he scrubbed his face with both hands. He was surprised to discover the small amount of movement had caused him to sweat.

"You're not planning on going with us when we leave, are you?" Amy's question was abrupt even though her voice was soft.

For a moment, Murdock didn't know how to respond. He cleared his throat before answering. "Uh . . . no . . . guess ya heard 'bout it from Face?"

She shook her head. "I didn't have to. Hannibal, Face and B. A. have been talking about it when they thought I was sleeping. Face probably thought it was better I was told about it later." Anger flashed in her eyes.

Murdock shrugged. "Nothin' much t' say. Ya knew Cazador offered me th' job. I d'cided I wanted it." He drew in an unsteady breath before continuing. "Now b'fore ya try 'n' convince me outta th' job like th' others . . . "

Amy held up her hand to silence him. "I'm not. You thought this through. I know you, and you would never abandon your unit unless you figured it was the best thing for you to do."

"So you think it is . . . th' best thin' t' do, that is?" The pilot frowned. He had been prepared for more arguments against his decision, not agreement, and not from Amy.

The reporter had a distant look in her eyes as she answered. "Sometimes if we don't take opportunities when they come up, we never find out if we have what it takes."

Murdock shifted uncomfortably in bed. He wasn't sure if Amy was talking about Cazador's job offer or if she was referring to something she had been considering in her own life. He had to know.

"Were ya offered somethin' bigger at work? Maybe somethin' outside o' L. A.?" The way she hesitated worried him.

Wonder what Faceman'd do if she had t' go halfway 'cross th' country for her job.

She examined her cast, tracing Face's handwritten confession of love with her forefinger. A melancholy smile touched her lips. "No. Not exactly. There's been . . . well . . . rumors around the office for a couple of months. I forgot about it when we were kidnapped. The last few days I had plenty of time to think about it again. It's probably going to turn out to be nothing." She swallowed and gazed at him. "You won't say anything to Face, will you? I mean, rumors aren't assignments, are they?"

"Where? What kind o' assignment?" Murdock searched her face. She was distressed about it, wherever the rumors suggested her editor would send her.

"I wish I never had to go back to L. A. . . . and at the same time, I'm terribly impatient to get back to the newspaper. I know that doesn't make sense, and I know I didn't answer your question." She fixed her gaze on the heart drawn on the gray-white plaster and grimaced.

When she looked up again at him, her eyes brimmed with tears. "I love Face. But what if I was offered a choice assignment that would force me to live half a world away from him? And not just for a few weeks but longer? Would he stay faithful? Would I?"

Murdock was stunned. He genuinely liked Amy. She had a good influence on the Lieutenant. For once in his life, Face cared enough for a woman to want to say the big 'M' word, marriage. His friend was happy and that made Murdock happy.

Half a world 'way? That'd tear 'im 'part. But didn' Amy say they were jus' rumors?

"Sounds like both o' us've had t' think 'bout th' future. I can' tell ya what t' do but like ya said, ya gotta do what ya know's best. I know you're gonna choose the right thing." The pilot somberly gazed at her, realizing his own heart was breaking over the thought of Amy accepting an assignment so far away from all of them.

She smiled at him through her tears. "It might not happen for a long time. Maybe Face and I will be married before we have to decide that." Sniffling, she dabbed at her tears with the sleeve of her robe. "Here I was coming here to talk to you about this and you're in almost the same kind of situation. When we leave here, I'm going to miss you, Murdock. A lot."

Before Murdock could reply, a frantic knocking at the door startled both of them.

"Hey, Murdock. Are you awake, buddy? Is Amy in there with you?"

The reporter rolled her eyes and sighed. "He found me."

Murdock smirked and then they both grinned at each other like a couple of mischievous children.

oooooo

The military MPs visited the ranch a few days later. With B. A.'s van stored out of sight in the rear of the large hangar and Cazador firmly insisting on a warrant of some kind before he would allow a search, Lynch left with nothing but his suspicions.

As soon as the last military vehicle turned off the driveway onto the main road, Cazador shut the door behind him and briskly walked down the hall to his office.

"Lynch will be back with a warrant as soon as he can find someone to issue it." Hannibal carefully lit the tip of his cigar and looked up at the ranch owner when he came in.

"I could call in a favor and ask the judge to hold off on that warrant," Cazador replied, crossing to his desk and sitting down.

"That would buy us . . . how much time?" Hannibal shook his head and examined his cigar, avoiding the ranch owner's intent gaze. "No, I think it would be wise for us to move on and try to avoid the MPs on our way back home. We'll make up a bed for Amy in the van. Face can sit beside her and watch over her. The four of us will leave as soon as we know Lynch isn't skulking somewhere nearby."

"Your Captain Murdock will be disappointed you have to leave so suddenly. He's a good man. Loyal. I told him and I'll tell you, too. Whenever you need him . . . "

The Colonel interrupted, his voice cool and steady. "I know. If we find ourselves needing air support, we'll check in to see if you can spare him." Getting to his feet, Hannibal motioned toward the door with his head. "If you'll excuse me, I have to tell B. A. and Face to get ready to leave."

He hesitated at the door and turned back to address Cazador. "We are grateful for all you have done for Murdock and for us. Thank you for your hospitality."

Cazador opened his mouth to speak but Hannibal already had exited the room, closing the door behind him.