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 91
Murdock heard the urgent knock on the bedroom door and immediately pushed himself to a sitting position in bed.
Whoever it is, it don' sound good.
Before he could invite the person in, the door opened.
"Hey, buddy. "
The frustrated look on his friend's face chilled Murdock inside.
Not yet. Not now. I ain' ready t' say goodbye.
"Th' Colonel's givin' th' marchin' orders, huh? Lynch?" He twisted the top bed cover in his hands, knowing the answer to his question before Face said anything.
The con man nodded, coming closer to the bed. His reluctance to follow those orders was evident in the clenched fists and strained tone of his voice. "The Colonel thinks it's best that we move on before Lynch comes back with a warrant."
"How long b'fore . . . " Murdock swallowed heavily. He couldn't finish the question. It hurt too much to know the moment had arrived when he would be separated from his unit, his friends.
" . . . we have to leave?" Face glared at the closed bedroom door before answering. "As soon as we can. B. A. and Hannibal are making sure Amy's comfortable in the back of the van." The con man stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. Looking down at the floor, he added softly, "Amy wanted to come in and say goodbye to you but she felt dizzy and we thought it best . . . " He let his voice trail off.
Murdock nodded absently, his eyes focused on nothing.
But I'm not ready t' say goodbye . . .
"I couldn't leave without asking you one last time." Face spoke and interrupted Murdock's swirling thoughts.
"Askin' me . . . what?"
Like I don' know what he means.
"Are you sure you want to do this? You won't reconsider?" The con man sat on the bed, facing Murdock. He crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands together over the top knee.
Murdock shook his head, wishing his friend would loosen up and change the subject. There was so much more to be said and so little time to say it. "Can't. Ya know that."
Face nodded slowly. "I know," he murmured. "It's just I guess I'll miss getting to know those nurses at the VA. I won't have an excuse to pay a visit there anymore."
His intent gaze bored into Murdock, as if he wanted the pilot to understand what he was trying to say without having to say it.
Murdock faked a teasing grin. "I'm sure ya a'ready got all th' phone numbers 'n' addresses o' all th' nurses pretty 'nough t' wanna get t' know better."
Face shrugged and smiled back at him. "What can I say?"
Several seconds of tortured silence seemed to stretch into minutes.
"Will th' Colonel be in t' say goodbye b'fore ya hafta head out?" The pilot stared straight forward, his jaw tight and muscles twitching.
Or is Hann'bal a'ready makin' plans 'bout a team that don' include me?
"Yeah. I'm sure he will." The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably. He repeated his words, emphasizing each one. "He will, Murdock. He won't leave before he talks to you."
Something in the con man's eyes made the pilot's heart sink.
He ain' sure 'bout that. Oh well. I made a choice 'n' I gotta follow through 'n' not look back. 'N' th' Colonel's not gonna look back either.
Another knock on the door. "Hey, Faceman. Hannibal says we gotta move out. Now."
Face gave Murdock a regretful look before answering. "I'm coming. I just need one or two more minutes."
B. A. opened the door. His muscular frame filled the opening. "An' Amy's askin' for ya." The black man hesitated when he saw the pilot's unhappy expression. He fixed his gaze on the con man, doing everything he could to avoid seeing the haunted sadness in Murdock's eyes.
"I'll go tell the Colonel ya had ta help the fool ta get ta the bathroom or somethin' like that." He shrugged when the Lieutenant cast a grateful look his way. "Just don' take too long."
"Will ya be back in t' see me b'fore ya hafta take off, B. A.?" Murdock swallowed hard, afraid of what he would hear.
The Sergeant paused, his back to his two friends. For a moment he bowed his head. Murdock saw the deep breath and the slight shudder that accompanied it. Then B. A. raised his head again but his fists knotted and his posture seemed stiffer. "What for, fool? We gonna be seein' each other 'gain next time ya hafta fly us somewhere. Least I'll be 'sleep when ya do it." Snorting, he grumbled, "Least I better be."
Without another word, the big man left the room, closing the door more roughly than necessary.
"There you go. Hannibal can't argue against me helping you to get to the bathroom one more time." Face relaxed and turned to Murdock. He found the pilot's attention fixated on the closed door.
"That's as good a goodbye as I'm gonna get from him."
The con man cleared his throat. "Well, like he said, it won't be goodbye forever. I don't trust anyone else to fly us anywhere. Not completely. And Hannibal doesn't either. So we'll be back to see you as soon as there's a new mission and Lynch isn't poking around looking for us here."
Murdock stared down at his hands which were fisted tightly in his lap. Unclenching them, he forced himself to take normal breaths. After a few seconds, he muttered, "Yeah. Guess you're right."
I hope ya`are. Guess time'll tell.
oooooo
Murdock stared up at the darkened ceiling, his arm slung across his forehead. Sleep eluded him.
He reflected on the short conversation Hannibal had with him before the team and Amy left for Los Angeles.
The Colonel said the same thing Face had but . . . there was a distant tone to his reassurance. And the older man saluted him at the door as a farewell, dropping his hand only after Murdock returned the salute.
"We'll be in touch, Captain." Then he was gone.
Murdock almost called him back . . . almost . . .
The pilot swallowed and closed his eyes.
It was my choice, but, God, I a'ready miss 'em.
oooooo
B. A. squinted at the double yellow lines and stifled a yawn.
Hannibal noted the action and straightened in his seat. Since leaving Cazador's ranch, the Sergeant had driven for five hours. Five hours in tension-filled angry silence. No one except Amy dozed off. Except for an occasional glance in the rear view mirror at Face, B. A. kept his eyes straight ahead.
"We're going to have to find a motel to stay or a place where you can pull off and get a few hours of sleep."
"We aren't far enough away from Tucson. We've been doing so many twists and turns and taking so many back roads, it only seems like we've gone three hundred miles." Face adjusted the blanket over Amy and stroked her hair when she stirred restlessly. The map he was using was spread out over the passenger seat.
Murdock's seat, he noted with bitterness.
"Well, we had no choice, did we? Remember the MPs going into that Sonoita diner? There's more of them out there and Lynch knows we're somewhere in the Tucson area. But you've kept us gradually heading west, right, kid?" Hannibal closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
"Yes." Face peered at the Colonel, noting how haggard he seemed. "You got a headache?" His lips set in a hard line.
Or is it regret?
He slapped an open palm on the map. "And why the hell am I navigating and not you? You're in the front seat."
He heard Hannibal's deep sigh. "Because you needed something to occupy your mind and I needed to think."
"We left a man behind. You said we'd never leave a man behind if we could help it." Face persisted with his argument even though he knew it would change nothing.
"Colonel don' need ta explain." B. A.'s words were no more than a low rumble but Face detected the same bitterness in his tone that the con man felt in his heart.
"Fine. No explanation necessary." The con man shifted his attention back to Amy. Their disagreement caused a small frown to appear. If they continued to argue, she would wake up.
And right now, it's best if she sleeps.
"Murdock knew what he was doing when he accepted Cazador's offer. He has the kind of freedom now that the rest of us don't. He can do the thing he loves without the danger. I wouldn't want him to sacrifice that to stay near us." Hannibal's words were quiet, reflective.
Giving him a sharp glance, Face opened his mouth to speak. The Colonel looked older and less confident than the con man had ever seen him. He seemed to be talking more to himself than either of them.
B. A. flashed a scowl in the rear view mirror and shook his head slightly.
Face shrugged, angrily surrendering to the big man's silent warning.
Okay. But this argument is not over. Not by any means.
They would stop soon to give B. A. a few hours of sleep. Even if the Sergeant and Hannibal slept, Face knew he wouldn't. They had left his best friend behind and, even though it was what Murdock wanted, he knew somehow it was a decision that all of them would regret.
oooooo
After alternately staring at the ceiling and the Woody Woodpecker nightlight and restlessly shifting around in bed, the pilot finally dropped off to sleep.
Murdock made the tiny cropduster skim the tops of a windrow of oak trees. He knew the field he was supposed to land in was nearby. Once he picked up Face, he was supposed to fly them to the airfield the plane came from and meet Hannibal and B. A. Their mission was accomplished and they would drive back to L. A. in the van.
The pilot scanned the golds and greens of farm fields below him. The cornstalk stubble of a harvested field was what he was looking for. It was supposed to be the only one in the vicinity.
Time was running out. If he didn't find the makeshift airfield soon, the conman would have a lot of unwanted attention from the remains of the criminal gang he infiltrated. The papers he had in his possession would put the head of the gang away for a very long time. If Murdock got him out of there in time, that was.
When the voice intruded over the radio headset Murdock wore, he recognized it immediately.
"You think you're safe now, don't you, Captain? Think again." The voice chuckled, sending a shiver of dread through the pilot. "But I already know what you're thinking. Your mind is open to me."
"Jackson!" He tore the headset off and threw it to the floor. He could swear his fingers tingled as if the thing he flung from him was a venomous snake that bit him.
"You'll never be free until I'm dead, you know." The voice wasn't a radio transmission; it was inside his head.
"That thing ya put in my head's in yours now. I made ya forget. Ya can't hurt me no more." Murdock felt his heart pump harder, a panic attack starting as Jackson continued to jeer at him.
"Can't I? I'm still alive. My memory can return. And when it does . . . " Another ominous chuckle.
When. Not if. That's what the voice said. What if it was true?
The pilot clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, forgetting where he was and what he was doing. When he opened his eyes again, the ground was so close . . .
"Noooooo . . . " Murdock woke, his mouth fixated in a tortured scream. Whether it was Jackson's threats or the impending crash, he didn't know why he yelled.
He swung his tortured gaze to the red nightlight. It calmed him as it always did when he was alone and coming out of a nightmare. Suddenly he felt very alone and very vulnerable.
If my unit was still here, one of them'd be right b'side me by now, helpin' me . . .
Quickly scanning his mind, he discovered what he hoped was true: that Jackson was only in his dream, not in his brain.
But the dream Jackson was right about the memory possibly returning and, with it, the possibility the Colonel could control him again.
He had to make sure the false memory he planted remained and Jackson was locked away for a very long time.
When Jackson's trial started, he would ask Mister Cazador if he could get a good seat in the court room.
I gotta make sure.