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Title: Fear of Flying
Fandom: A-Team
Characters: BA Baracus, HM Murdock, Templeton "Face" Peck, Hannibal Smith, Amy Allan
Genre: Gen
Rating: R
Word Count: 5825
Warnings/Spoilers: Dark, Non-graphic violence, Violence against women/children
Disclaimer: Fanfic
Notes: I always wondered why BA was afraid of flying, so I wrote this to explain it. I wrote it at least 10 years ago, and it's been around on ff.net for about as long.
Central America, 1983
"How much longer do we have to wait?" Amy glanced around the shadowy cabin and tried to ignore the pain radiating from her broken arm. "They're not going to stop looking for us."
"She's right, Colonel." Face knelt on the other side of the room, starting out the partially open front door leading to the airport tarmac, his automatic rifle held ready. "It's only a matter of time before we're found out. The only question is: do you want the drug dealers or the Federalies to find us?"
Hannibal snorted from his position at the side window. "In this case, they're one in the same." He chewed on his unlit cigar, staring out the window for another moment before crossing to Amy. "We have to wait another ten. With the shelling the strip took coming in, even Murdock can't take off until the sun comes up." He crouched down next to her and gingerly adjusted her makeshift sling. "How are you holding up, Kid?"
Amy looked up at him, her head swimming from pain and medication. "I'll live, Hannibal. I'm not worried about me." She glanced through the doorway into the next room. BA lay on the cot in the back, the blood stains on the bandages clearly visible in the dim light of a battered gas lantern. Murdock hovered on the chair next to him.
"I know." Hannibal patted her shoulder gently. "The plane's fueled and ready to go. We should have BA in a state-side hospital in two hours once Murdock gets us in the air."
"I'm not flyin'." The weak protest floated in from the other room as BA struggled to sit up.
Murdock pushed him back down. "Lay back down, you ugly mudsucker." The insult lacked all of Murdock's usual energy. "You're going to start bleeding again."
"I die before I fly." The big man's voice shook.
"We've heard it before, BA," Murdock replied.
Hannibal moved back to the window. Amy's arm ached, low and steady. "Hannibal?" she kept her voice low. "Why is BA so phobic about flying?" She hadn't given it much thought before. It was just part of the big black man's character, like all his gold and his work at the youth centers in LA, but now she needed something to take her mind off the pain and the fear. "He couldn't always have been this way, not if he was Special Forces."
Hannibal exchanged a look with Face before answering. "We all got our own reasons for what we do." He pulled out a lighter and lit his cigar, watching the end glow red. "BA's reasons are his own." He stared at his cigar for another moment, and then clamped it back between his teeth. "You wanna know what they are, you gotta ask him."
Amy closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. She should have known better than to expect an answer.
*~*~*~*
Murdock changed the bloody bandages on BA's chest, listening to the conversation in the other room. He taped the new cloth into place and his eyes met BA's.
"I die before I fly, fool," BA muttered softly.
"Come on, BA," Murdock whispered, "It'll be okay."
"No." BA coughed, a low, racking cough that brought bloody foam to his lips. "I ain't gonna fly."
"Damn it, BA. This not flying stuff is going to get us killed. And if anyone's mental problems are going to get us killed, it's should be mine."
"Shut up, fool." BA struggled to sit up. "Ain't nothin' wrong with me."
"Just lay still." Murdock pushed him back down, suddenly angry. "If you would just talk to someone about it, you could get over this. Trust me, I know all about dealing with demons. If you would just talk about what happened--"
"Nothing happened!" BA gave up fighting and lay back down with a low moan, obviously weak from blood loss and pain. "And I ain't never gonna talk about it to no one. Nothing. Happened."
Murdock bit back his reply. Maybe was BA was lucky. It wasn't something any sane person would want to remember.
*~*~*~*
Vietnam. 1971.
It was a late August afternoon and the sun hid behind large banks of clouds that threatened storms. The lush tropical jungle covering most of the delta was a brilliant green and stretched to the horizon. The cool, dark weather moving in from East was starting to war with the hot, humid air hanging over the trees. The chopper could be heard long before it could be seen, its angry whine cutting through the silence before the storm. It flew fast and low over the trees leaving a trail of churned up leaves in its wake. It was heading south in a hurry.
The chopper veered to the left as sudden winds buffeted the small aircraft, making all the passengers grab for a handhold. BA sat clinging to the backbench, fiercely glad he had hooked up to the safety harness and buckled in. He hated everything about this mission. In the two years since he joined Smith's A-Team, he'd hated being traded off to other units to do missions. Especially missions for spooks. He glanced at the other two soldiers in the chopper bay. They had CIA written all over them. No, he amended; they had bad CIA written all over them.
They'd busted into the barracks three days ago with orders for BA to be temporarily attached to their "small squad operations". Hannibal had fought the orders, but in the end, the only concession he could get was the Murdock would be one of the pilots. The colonel had insisted if he was going to risk one of his best men, at least he had the right to know he had the best pilot in Nam flying him in and out. It gave BA some comfort to see the pilot's familiarly crazy smile flashing at him between the insane lurching of the chopper.
The mission has been a complete bust from the moment they'd taken off. Weather and enemy movement had forced them to fly out of their way, eating up fuel they couldn't afford to lose. The intended LZ was flooded and they had to set down in a smaller, more hazardous clearing. For all their complaining about having Murdock along, BA noted, they'd been more than happy to let him land the chopper. Murdock and their original pilot were left to guard the Huey, so it was only BA and the two spooks who'd headed into the trees.
After an hour hike through water and jungle, they'd crept up on a recently decimated village and large, partially covered mass grave. Another twenty minutes in had brought them to the smoldering ruins of a large factory that had no business being out in the middle of a jungle. The spooks hadn't blinked at the pile of half-buried bodies in the village but they were positively livid about the burnt out building. BA knew he shouldn't enjoy failed missions, but he had hated these idiot spooks the moment he had met them. They talked in annoying jargon company men used when they were trying to intimidate the "civilians" around them. And they treated him and Murdock like poor relatives, which wouldn't have bothered him except they were the ones who had ordered BA to join the mission. Whatever the mission was, it must have been destroyed with the factory because they just turned and headed back to the landing zone.
The chopper gave another gut-wrenching jolt and BA glanced over at their three Vietnamese passengers: a young mother with her infant son and a boy about 10 years old, probably the girl's younger brother. BA had found them hiding in a small ditch on the way back past the village, the only survivors from a population of over a hundred. BA had been surprised -- and pleased -- when he had been ordered to bring them back to the chopper. Whatever the mission had been it gave him a good feeling to know this young family would be better off because of it. BA smiled at them but they just stared back. He figured he would wait until they were on the ground and then try again. He had some candy bars and he knew the local kids really warmed up when food was involved.
The head spook, Johnson -- Colonel Johnson, BA forced himself to remember -- worked his way to the front of the chopper and BA went back to trying to get the boy to smile at him.
*~*~*~*
In the cockpit, Murdock glanced at the gauges. They'd have enough fuel to get back, as long as the headwinds didn't pick up too much more. He hadn't been sure they'd make it, what with the detour on the way out and the extra passengers on the way back. As happy as BA looked to be helping the young family out, it didn't feel right to Murdock. The sooner they were on the ground and rid of this mission, the happier he would be. This whole thing was hinky.
A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump and he turned to see Colonel Johnson standing behind him.
"Take her up another hundred feet," Johnson growled.
Murdock frowned at the altimeter. They were at a good cruising height now. "I don't think that's a good idea, sir." He waved at the darkening skies. "It's gonna be messier up there. We're better off just skimming the trees like this."
"I don't care how messy it is, just take it up."
"Look, sir," Murdock tried to be polite. "There's no good reason to go higher. The more headwinds we hit, the more fuel we're going to burn. We got barely enough as is. I'm telling you, as the pilot, we need to stay here."
"In that case," Johnson said, "you're relieved of piloting duties." He looked at the man in the co-pilot's chair. "Captain Austin, you'll take over. Take us up a hundred feet. Captain Murdock will turn over the controls."
Murdock wanted to argue but something in Johnson's voice stopped him. There was something bad going on, he could feel it. "Fine with me," he said. "I'd like a nap anyhow. She's all yours, Austin."
"With pleasure." Austin grinned as Murdock released the controls. The new pilot pulled the chopper into a steep climb.
The sick feeling growing in Murdock's stomach had nothing to do with the sudden change in altitude. He knew from the moment he'd met them these were bad people he was flying around and the three hours he'd spent waiting in the Huey with Austin had just reinforced the feeling. Murdock shrugged as nonchalantly as possible at Austin and stretched, pretending to be glad of the break. As he dropped his hand back to his side, he unsnapped the holster of his sidearm. This was going to end badly, that much he was sure of. He just hoped BA was paying attention.
*~*~*~*
BA finally managed to get a smile out of the young Vietnamese boy when the chopper went into a steep climb. He clung the to rope of his safety harness and closed his eyes until they leveled out. When he finally could look up, he automatically checked on the young family.
They were huddled together much closer to the opposite door than they had been before. Colonel Johnson stood next to them, his hand on the young boy's shoulder. BA was about to ask what was happening when Johnson grabbed the boy by the back of neck and started shouting at the young mother. BA could only catch a word or two of the Vietnamese dialect he used. The other spook, Lieutenant Davis, crossed over and stood next to the mother. She started to cry. She clutched the baby tightly, turning away from Davis.
BA tried to piece everything together. It didn't make sense. Johnson might have been saying something about a factory. A delivery. Some deal gone bad. He wasn't sure.
A hot, wet gust of wind slapped against the chopper tossing it to the right. BA slid hard into the metal door, his head connecting painfully with the safety bar. He fought to catch his breath. There was an odd roaring in his head. A metallic taste in his mouth. He looked back up. It took a moment to find the others.
The girl and baby were still in the seat, held in place by Davis, but Johnson and the boy were by the open chopper bay. Johnson had the boy by the shirt collar. He shouted at the mother. She sobbed uncontrollably. BA felt like he walked into the middle of a movie.
Johnson spoke again to the mother. She sobbed something back at him, shaking her head. Johnson smiled. Then he tossed the struggling boy out of the helicopter. The small body hung in mid-air for an excruciating second before plummeting noiselessly from sight.
BA couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It couldn't have just happened. It didn't just happen. He looked around the chopper and into the wide shocked eyes of Murdock who strained against the harness holding him into the pilot's seat. Murdock's mouth opened and shut but BA could only hear the pounding of the chopper blades in his ears.
BA looked back at Johnson. The agent had the baby. He swung it back and forth outside the opening. Davis handcuffed the struggling young mother to the middle support beam. BA growled deep in his throat. He began to stand but the seat straps jerked him back with a loud clank.
At the noise, Johnson's attention snapped from the baby to BA. The CIA man pulled his pistol, lowering the screaming baby to his side. He took two steps away from the door and aimed the pistol at BA's head. "Don't think about being a hero, boy. You're no better than these gooks. No one is going to miss a grease monkey and you're lucky I didn't kill you when I saw the factory was gone. Now, if you want to live long enough to enjoy some fried chicken, you just sit right there and be a good boy."
BA bit back the bile in his throat and stopped straining against the straps. He had to unbuckle first, then he could deal with Johnson. Johnson smiled, holstered his gun and returned to the other side of the Huey. BA forced his numb hands work on unbuckling the belts.
Johnson swung the baby back out the door and said something again to the mother. She screamed at him and Davis laughed. Johnson shouted again, waving the baby in mid-air. The chopper shuddered violently. BA finally flipped the last buckle open. The shoulder straps fell away. He looked up at Johnson who still stood next to the open door.
The spook's hands were empty.
"Damn it, Johnson, why'd you toss it out for?" Davis shouted. "She was going to talk." The young mother fought to pull her bleeding hands out of the handcuffs. Her screams echoed through the chopper.
"The damn thing slipped." Johnson shrugged. "We'll have to get it out of her some other way." He grinned and walked toward the sobbing woman. Davis swung the girl around and pressed her hard into the metal pole. BA heard the snap of a bone as the girl's arm twisted.
BA stood and stalked toward them.
Davis fought with the screaming woman, struggling to keep her still. Johnson laughed and said something to Davis. Neither noticed BA's approach.
"Hold her still," Johnson commanded. He pulled a small, wicked looking knife from his boot. "This could be fun." He made a quick slash along her right cheek, leaving a long bloody gash behind.
BA snapped his neck.
Davis swore and released the sobbing woman. He backed up from BA, pulling his sidearm. "Stupid ni--"
A loud report cut him off and he fell to the deck of the chopper, half his head missing.
BA looked up. Murdock stood, pale and panting, holding a smoking gun.
The chopper jerked as the pilot turned to see what had happened. Murdock leveled the gun at him. "Just keep it steady, Austin, and you may be the sole survivor of your unit." Austin's eyes narrowed at Murdock but the chopper steadied.
BA crossed to the hysterical woman. He reached out to see how much damage Johnson had done with his knife but the terrified girl screamed and pulled away from him. She yanked against the handcuffs holding her to the center post and BA could see the bloody gashes her fighting had made on her hands and the obvious fracture in her right arm. He reached down, pulled the keys for the handcuffs off Davis' body and unlocked her.
The young mother scrambled to her feet. She looked around wildly, panic and fear in her eyes. Then, with a scream, she moved toward the open chopper door. BA grabbed at her. Missed. She was almost to the opening. With a strangled cry, he dove for her feet. She dropped out of sight. He slid toward the door. Out the door. He saw the girl's body plunge into the green ocean of leaves below. BA dropped towards the ground after her. For a brief, relieved second he thought he'd die, too. Then his safety line caught and he hung a hundred feet above the treetops.
*~*~*~*
Murdock turned at BA's cry and stared in horror as BA fell. When safety rope snapped tight a second later, Murdock almost cried with relief. "You lucky son of a--"
The chopped dipped and Murdock spun back and faced Austin who pushed the chopper into a steep dive. Murdock jabbed his pistol into the back of Austin's head. "Level her off and bring us down in the next clearing you see. Gently, too. If my buddy hanging off this chopper is hurt in any way, I'm going to spread your brains all over this windshield. You got that?"
Austin nodded. Five impossibly long minutes later the helicopter set down safely next to a small river, it's angry whine as it powered down filled the clearing. Murdock had Austin unbuckle and cuff himself to the center pole next to the bodies of his unit. Murdock spent every second wondering if BA was still alive. So many things could have gone wrong. Murdock forced himself to look out the door.
BA lay where the chopper had dragged him when they landed. He wasn't moving.
Murdock crossed to him hesitantly. "BA?"
BA didn't move but Murdock could see his ragged breathing. Long shuddering breaths ending in painful sobs. Murdock gently touched the big man's shoulder.
BA looked up at him. "They're dead."
Murdock nodded.
BA held out his large hands. "I couldn't save them."
"But you tried. You have to remember that."
"I don't want to remember any of it." BA put his head in his hands and wept.
Murdock sat beside him and waited. The sobbing slowly subsided but it was almost an hour later before BA finally sat up.
"Ready to go, big guy?" Murdock kept his voice calm despite the prickling of fear pushing at him. They were still sitting in enemy territory. They had just killed two superior officers and were holding prisoner a more-than-likely psychotic CIA officer who would probably kill them if given the chance. "We have to get out of here."
BA turned to him, his dark eyes haunted. "I don't wanna go nowhere."
"We have to go back to camp," Murdock insisted. "The chopper is waiting." He gestured to the chopper sitting quietly fifteen feet behind them.
BA stood and glared at the chopper. "I ain't flyin'."
"What do you mean, you're not flying?" This was new. "We got to go."
"I won't." BA backed up until the safety line pulled taunt again. "I die before I fly."
Murdock fought down a surge of irritation. "Look, BA, we have to get out of here. And we have to fly for missions." Murdock struggled to make sense of BA's refusal, searching for the cause. "Not flying isn't going to change what happened."
"What'cha talkin' about, fool?"
The manic look in BA's eyes scared Murdock, so he chose his next words carefully. Slow and easy was always the best route with the big guy. "The girl and the kids. You couldn't have done anything." Neither of us could have done anything, Murdock added silently.
"No." BA shook his head, but his hands trembled and sweat trickled down his face. "I... I don't remember... What kids?"
Murdock paused a moment, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. BA didn't show any signs of injury but a concussion scrambled memories fast. "The refugees from the village. A young mother and--"
"No!" BA cut him off, violently angry. "There weren't nobody in the village."
"Did you hit your head falling out of the chopper? How many fingers am I holding up?" Murdock held up his hand and waved three fingers in front of BA's face. How soon did someone have to get medical attention after a concussion? Was it already too late?
"I can see jus' fine and there ain't nothin' wrong with my memory." BA growled and slapped Murdock's hand away. "When we got there village was empty an' every thin' was burnt up. Nothin' more happened. I remember jus' fine."
"What do you mean, 'Nothin' more happened'?" Murdock's concern faded into a surge of anger. What was BA playing at? "If 'Nothin' more happened', how come we got two dead spooks in the chopper and another one who's planning our court martial and execution?"
BA took two steps past Murdock, moving closer to the chopper, confusion and panic written on his face. Austin and the bodies of Johnson and Davis were clearly visible. "We... we left the village. Everyone was... dead." BA's voice shook and he spoke slowly, as if lost in memory. "We hiked to... to a factory or somethin'. It was burned down. Then, on the way back, I found... I found..." BA stuttered to a halt. He stood, shaking, staring his hands.
Murdock waited for the memory to continue, waited for the truth to wash over his friend. Once BA dealt with it, they would be able to move on.
Nothing happened. BA continued to stare at his hands. Flies droned around them. The angry clouds continued to boil overhead.
Murdock decided to give a gentle push. "You found what, BA?"
BA spun in one breath and grabbed Murdock by the shirt. "Nothin'. I found nothin'!" He shook Murdock with each word. "There was nothin' to find." BA stopped shaking Murdock but he didn't let go. "We... we must have been ambushed on the way back." He glanced at the chopper then glared at Murdock. "We must have been ambushed when we got back to the chopper."
"BA," Murdock forced himself to stay calm. "You know that's not--"
"Shut up!" BA shook Murdock again and his fingers dug into Murdock's shoulders. "Nothin' happened 'til we got back to the chopper." He pulled Murdock close, then let him go.
Suddenly released, Murdock fell back and hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of him. He stared up at BA, desperately fighting to understand. BA looked from his hands to Murdock then to the chopper. There was a dark, panicky look in his eyes and a desperation about his anger that shocked Murdock more than the fall had.
Murdock swore under his breath. This was way beyond a concussion and it was something a lot harder to fix. But all that would have to wait. Right now, they needed to get home. Forcing himself to stay calm, he nodded. "All right," he agreed. "Whatever you want BA, as long as you get in the chopper."
BA glared at him for a moment and then gestured to the Huey. "I'm not getting in there with them."
"Fine," Murdock agreed. "I don't like the idea of flying them back either." He turned and walked back to the chopper to deal with the bodies of the two senior officers they killed and leaving BA alone with his denial.
*~*~*~*
BA watched Murdock as he climbed into the chopper and rolled the Johnson's dead body onto the grass. He remembered leaving on the mission and finding the burnt out factory, but then everything became confusion and dread. When Davis' body hit the ground, BA moved to the door of the chopper, an unreasonable fear and loathing boiling up in side of him. Austin was still handcuffed to the support bar and BA shocked himself with the thought it would be best to kill this CIA agent, too. Murdock must have been thinking the same thing because he hesitated a second before he unlocked Austin and motioned for him to get out of the Huey.
"I'm leaving you," Murdock said once the Austin was out of the chopper. "I ought to kill you, but there's been enough death here today. I want you to go to the edge of the river, kneel down and keep your hands on your head. BA here will watch you."
Murdock handed BA a rifle. "If you behave yourself, I'll leave you a gun and a pack."
Austin nodded and did as Murdock instructed, keeping his hands in sight and moving slowly and deliberately. He followed Murdock's instructions all the while staring at BA as if he expected to be shot at any moment. BA looked at the dead bodies of Johnson and Davis. He didn't remember it happening, but he knew the Murdock had shot Davis and Johnson-- Johnson's neck had been broken. He knew it was wrong, but he was glad they were dead.
The chopper's engines whined to life and its blades began to shake with repressed power. BA didn't move, confused by his feelings of hatred and panic. The chopper blades beat menacingly against the darkened sky. He couldn't bring himself to get in the Huey.
Murdock, returning to the chopper door with a pack and rifle, turned to him. "Climb in and buckle yourself into the co-pilots seat. I'm going to give this to Austin and we and get the hell out of here."
"I'm not flyin'." Like before, BA said it without thinking and, like before, the sound of the words eased some of his panic. "I die before I fly."
Murdock stared at him, clearly annoyed. "I thought we covered this, BA."
BA looked at Murdock and suddenly it seemed everything was the pilot's fault. "Bad things happen with you flyin'." Saying the words gave a target to the pain and a source to the fear. "I ain't flyin' no more." BA clenched his fists and waited for Murdock to try and make him fly. He wanted a fight right now, something to burn up the fear and panic. He wanted something to hit and Murdock was as good a target at any.
Anger flared in Murdock's eyes for a second before he visibly forced himself to be calm. "You've gotta fly, BA,"
"No."
Murdock shot a glance at Austin who hadn't moved but watched them intently. Then he crouched on the deck of the Huey, bringing himself almost eye level with BA. "You gonna stay here and die, is that it, BA? Is that what you want me to tell your Mama: BA didn't come home because he wouldn't fly?"
BA clenched and unclenched his fists. "I don't wanna fly." It was an almost primal need not to get in the chopper.
"But you want to get home and see your Mama again don't you? And what about the team? They need you and they need you to fly. You gonna tell the Colonel and the LT you won't be flying anymore?"
Murdock's voice was calm and reasonable. Everything he said made sense. It only added to BA's newfound hatred. He couldn't shake the feeling something horrible would happen if he got into the chopper. Murdock kept talking.
"You gonna take a court martial and stockade time and the let the team try and make it without you? Your tour is almost up; you'll end up doing more time in the stockade than serving out your tour. You want your Mama coming to visit you in prison?"
"No." No, he couldn't do that. BA took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to push the fear away. Murdock was right. "All right." He climbed into the chopper, his stomach churning and his hands shaking, but his mind was made up. "I'll fly, but only because I want to get home. I'm only flyin' to get home." The words were mantra that allowed him to move to the seat and buckle in. He closed his eyes and thought of home.
*~*~*~*
Murdock sighed and watched BA buckle into the copilot's seat. Then he turned back to Austin who was still kneeling, hands on his head. Murdock tossed him the pack but flung the rifle far off into the clearing on the other side of the chopper. Austin's eyes followed the weapon and Murdock knew he was calculating his chances of getting to the gun before the chopper was out of range. Murdock held up an ammo bag. "It's empty. The ammo is here." He tossed it in the opposite direction of the gun "Our report will be we were ambushed when they got back to the chopper. You got separated and we took off." It was as good a story as any and better than the truth. Murdock waited for Austin's nod, before adding, "If you do get out of here, make sure I never see you." Then Murdock moved back to the pilot's seat and lifted off.
BA didn't say anything when the chopper took flight and Murdock kept an eye on him, waiting for BA to acknowledge what happened, but BA just stared off into the distance, very carefully not looking at anything. Murdock wanted to say something but couldn't force the words out of his mouth; he kept hoping BA would speak first and save him the problem of finding a way to ask him what he was thinking.
They were fifteen minutes out of home base and flying on fumes when BA finally broke the silence. "I hate this fuckin' place."
The vulgarity sounded alien from BA and it was said with such violence Murdock almost felt like BA had hit him.
"We all do, big guy."
"I'm gonna do whatever I have to get out of here. And when I make it home, I ain't never gonna fly again."
"You won't have to BA. Once you're home, you can keep both your feet on the ground."
BA nodded. "An' I'm goin' help kids. I ain't ever gonna let another kid die."
Murdock glanced at BA. He wondered if he realized what he'd said. "That's a good idea. You're good with kids." Murdock frowned. Was BA's memory returning? Was he starting to remember what really happened? He decided to push a little. "There was nothing you could've done. It wasn't your fault."
"What'cha talkin' about, fool?" BA glared at him.
"With the girl and the kid."
If BA hadn't been belted in Murdock thought he would have hit him. "There weren't no girl. There weren't no kid. And there weren't no baby." BA spoke the words slowly and dangerously.
"All right, BA." Murdock tried to sooth the angry man. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah... well," BA faltered, then continued haltingly, "just forget about it, okay?"
Murdock watched as BA sat back in the seat and closed his eyes. The problem was, Murdock knew, you couldn't really forget about something like that. Not even if you thought you did.
*~*~*~*
Central America, 1983
"Times up." Hannibal's voice came from the back door. "It's dawn and we got to get out of here. Murdock, get the plane warmed up."
BA struggled to sit up. "No. No. No flyin'." He looked at Murdock, eyes feverish and wild.
Murdock snapped. He was tired of fighting BA's demons for him. "Knock it off, BA. We all have things we'd rather not think about and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let this little indulgence of yours kill any of us... including you."
"No!" BA was shouting now, almost incoherent. "No!" He grabbed Murdock by the neck, his powerful hands like a vise.
Murdock struggled to keep BA from further ripping open his wounds. "Hannibal!" He barely choked out the name and spots danced in front of his eyes.
Hannibal sprinted across the room and dug in the med kit. A second later he pulled out a syringe and injected the sedative into BA's arm.
BA didn't even flinch when the needle went in and his wild eyes never left Murdock. "Don't let them die. I just... I just let them die." He sobbed once and his grasp slowly loosened and his hand fell to the cot.
Murdock rubbed his neck where BA had gripped it. "Damn it." He hands shook and adrenaline burned in his stomach.
"Are you all right?" Hannibal asked.
"Can you believe that?" Murdock snapped. "I couldn't do anything either, just watch... Why can't he--" Murdock broke off in mid sentence and Hannibal laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. Murdock drew in a shaky breath. He'd told the Colonel and Face everything the minute they'd returned from the mission, but even they couldn't help BA acknowledge what happened. In the end, there was nothing they could do other than go ahead with the cover-up and deal with BA's newfound fear of flying. Murdock hated it, even though he knew better than anyone some things just couldn't be rationalized away. He might not be able to help BA but, damn it, there was no way in hell he was going to let BA die because of it. "I'll taxi the plane around. We gotta get him to a hospital."
*~*~*~*
Amy pulled herself unsteadily to her feet as Murdock jogged past her. She leaned against the door jam and waited for the Colonel to say something, but Hannibal just stared after Murdock. She wanted to ask him what was really going on, but knew she'd never get answer. Not about something like this. Face joined them in the back room, exchanging an indecipherable look with Hannibal. Times like this made Amy sure the team had some sort of telepathic link allowing them to read each other's minds.
"Is he going to be okay, Hannibal?" It was the only question she knew she’d get an answer to.
"He'll be fine, Kid. We've got him." Hannibal and Face lifted the cot and headed out the door.
Amy stared after them for a moment, then followed them out to the plane.
Fandom: A-Team
Characters: BA Baracus, HM Murdock, Templeton "Face" Peck, Hannibal Smith, Amy Allan
Genre: Gen
Rating: R
Word Count: 5825
Warnings/Spoilers: Dark, Non-graphic violence, Violence against women/children
Disclaimer: Fanfic
Notes: I always wondered why BA was afraid of flying, so I wrote this to explain it. I wrote it at least 10 years ago, and it's been around on ff.net for about as long.
Central America, 1983
"How much longer do we have to wait?" Amy glanced around the shadowy cabin and tried to ignore the pain radiating from her broken arm. "They're not going to stop looking for us."
"She's right, Colonel." Face knelt on the other side of the room, starting out the partially open front door leading to the airport tarmac, his automatic rifle held ready. "It's only a matter of time before we're found out. The only question is: do you want the drug dealers or the Federalies to find us?"
Hannibal snorted from his position at the side window. "In this case, they're one in the same." He chewed on his unlit cigar, staring out the window for another moment before crossing to Amy. "We have to wait another ten. With the shelling the strip took coming in, even Murdock can't take off until the sun comes up." He crouched down next to her and gingerly adjusted her makeshift sling. "How are you holding up, Kid?"
Amy looked up at him, her head swimming from pain and medication. "I'll live, Hannibal. I'm not worried about me." She glanced through the doorway into the next room. BA lay on the cot in the back, the blood stains on the bandages clearly visible in the dim light of a battered gas lantern. Murdock hovered on the chair next to him.
"I know." Hannibal patted her shoulder gently. "The plane's fueled and ready to go. We should have BA in a state-side hospital in two hours once Murdock gets us in the air."
"I'm not flyin'." The weak protest floated in from the other room as BA struggled to sit up.
Murdock pushed him back down. "Lay back down, you ugly mudsucker." The insult lacked all of Murdock's usual energy. "You're going to start bleeding again."
"I die before I fly." The big man's voice shook.
"We've heard it before, BA," Murdock replied.
Hannibal moved back to the window. Amy's arm ached, low and steady. "Hannibal?" she kept her voice low. "Why is BA so phobic about flying?" She hadn't given it much thought before. It was just part of the big black man's character, like all his gold and his work at the youth centers in LA, but now she needed something to take her mind off the pain and the fear. "He couldn't always have been this way, not if he was Special Forces."
Hannibal exchanged a look with Face before answering. "We all got our own reasons for what we do." He pulled out a lighter and lit his cigar, watching the end glow red. "BA's reasons are his own." He stared at his cigar for another moment, and then clamped it back between his teeth. "You wanna know what they are, you gotta ask him."
Amy closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. She should have known better than to expect an answer.
*~*~*~*
Murdock changed the bloody bandages on BA's chest, listening to the conversation in the other room. He taped the new cloth into place and his eyes met BA's.
"I die before I fly, fool," BA muttered softly.
"Come on, BA," Murdock whispered, "It'll be okay."
"No." BA coughed, a low, racking cough that brought bloody foam to his lips. "I ain't gonna fly."
"Damn it, BA. This not flying stuff is going to get us killed. And if anyone's mental problems are going to get us killed, it's should be mine."
"Shut up, fool." BA struggled to sit up. "Ain't nothin' wrong with me."
"Just lay still." Murdock pushed him back down, suddenly angry. "If you would just talk to someone about it, you could get over this. Trust me, I know all about dealing with demons. If you would just talk about what happened--"
"Nothing happened!" BA gave up fighting and lay back down with a low moan, obviously weak from blood loss and pain. "And I ain't never gonna talk about it to no one. Nothing. Happened."
Murdock bit back his reply. Maybe was BA was lucky. It wasn't something any sane person would want to remember.
*~*~*~*
Vietnam. 1971.
It was a late August afternoon and the sun hid behind large banks of clouds that threatened storms. The lush tropical jungle covering most of the delta was a brilliant green and stretched to the horizon. The cool, dark weather moving in from East was starting to war with the hot, humid air hanging over the trees. The chopper could be heard long before it could be seen, its angry whine cutting through the silence before the storm. It flew fast and low over the trees leaving a trail of churned up leaves in its wake. It was heading south in a hurry.
The chopper veered to the left as sudden winds buffeted the small aircraft, making all the passengers grab for a handhold. BA sat clinging to the backbench, fiercely glad he had hooked up to the safety harness and buckled in. He hated everything about this mission. In the two years since he joined Smith's A-Team, he'd hated being traded off to other units to do missions. Especially missions for spooks. He glanced at the other two soldiers in the chopper bay. They had CIA written all over them. No, he amended; they had bad CIA written all over them.
They'd busted into the barracks three days ago with orders for BA to be temporarily attached to their "small squad operations". Hannibal had fought the orders, but in the end, the only concession he could get was the Murdock would be one of the pilots. The colonel had insisted if he was going to risk one of his best men, at least he had the right to know he had the best pilot in Nam flying him in and out. It gave BA some comfort to see the pilot's familiarly crazy smile flashing at him between the insane lurching of the chopper.
The mission has been a complete bust from the moment they'd taken off. Weather and enemy movement had forced them to fly out of their way, eating up fuel they couldn't afford to lose. The intended LZ was flooded and they had to set down in a smaller, more hazardous clearing. For all their complaining about having Murdock along, BA noted, they'd been more than happy to let him land the chopper. Murdock and their original pilot were left to guard the Huey, so it was only BA and the two spooks who'd headed into the trees.
After an hour hike through water and jungle, they'd crept up on a recently decimated village and large, partially covered mass grave. Another twenty minutes in had brought them to the smoldering ruins of a large factory that had no business being out in the middle of a jungle. The spooks hadn't blinked at the pile of half-buried bodies in the village but they were positively livid about the burnt out building. BA knew he shouldn't enjoy failed missions, but he had hated these idiot spooks the moment he had met them. They talked in annoying jargon company men used when they were trying to intimidate the "civilians" around them. And they treated him and Murdock like poor relatives, which wouldn't have bothered him except they were the ones who had ordered BA to join the mission. Whatever the mission was, it must have been destroyed with the factory because they just turned and headed back to the landing zone.
The chopper gave another gut-wrenching jolt and BA glanced over at their three Vietnamese passengers: a young mother with her infant son and a boy about 10 years old, probably the girl's younger brother. BA had found them hiding in a small ditch on the way back past the village, the only survivors from a population of over a hundred. BA had been surprised -- and pleased -- when he had been ordered to bring them back to the chopper. Whatever the mission had been it gave him a good feeling to know this young family would be better off because of it. BA smiled at them but they just stared back. He figured he would wait until they were on the ground and then try again. He had some candy bars and he knew the local kids really warmed up when food was involved.
The head spook, Johnson -- Colonel Johnson, BA forced himself to remember -- worked his way to the front of the chopper and BA went back to trying to get the boy to smile at him.
*~*~*~*
In the cockpit, Murdock glanced at the gauges. They'd have enough fuel to get back, as long as the headwinds didn't pick up too much more. He hadn't been sure they'd make it, what with the detour on the way out and the extra passengers on the way back. As happy as BA looked to be helping the young family out, it didn't feel right to Murdock. The sooner they were on the ground and rid of this mission, the happier he would be. This whole thing was hinky.
A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump and he turned to see Colonel Johnson standing behind him.
"Take her up another hundred feet," Johnson growled.
Murdock frowned at the altimeter. They were at a good cruising height now. "I don't think that's a good idea, sir." He waved at the darkening skies. "It's gonna be messier up there. We're better off just skimming the trees like this."
"I don't care how messy it is, just take it up."
"Look, sir," Murdock tried to be polite. "There's no good reason to go higher. The more headwinds we hit, the more fuel we're going to burn. We got barely enough as is. I'm telling you, as the pilot, we need to stay here."
"In that case," Johnson said, "you're relieved of piloting duties." He looked at the man in the co-pilot's chair. "Captain Austin, you'll take over. Take us up a hundred feet. Captain Murdock will turn over the controls."
Murdock wanted to argue but something in Johnson's voice stopped him. There was something bad going on, he could feel it. "Fine with me," he said. "I'd like a nap anyhow. She's all yours, Austin."
"With pleasure." Austin grinned as Murdock released the controls. The new pilot pulled the chopper into a steep climb.
The sick feeling growing in Murdock's stomach had nothing to do with the sudden change in altitude. He knew from the moment he'd met them these were bad people he was flying around and the three hours he'd spent waiting in the Huey with Austin had just reinforced the feeling. Murdock shrugged as nonchalantly as possible at Austin and stretched, pretending to be glad of the break. As he dropped his hand back to his side, he unsnapped the holster of his sidearm. This was going to end badly, that much he was sure of. He just hoped BA was paying attention.
*~*~*~*
BA finally managed to get a smile out of the young Vietnamese boy when the chopper went into a steep climb. He clung the to rope of his safety harness and closed his eyes until they leveled out. When he finally could look up, he automatically checked on the young family.
They were huddled together much closer to the opposite door than they had been before. Colonel Johnson stood next to them, his hand on the young boy's shoulder. BA was about to ask what was happening when Johnson grabbed the boy by the back of neck and started shouting at the young mother. BA could only catch a word or two of the Vietnamese dialect he used. The other spook, Lieutenant Davis, crossed over and stood next to the mother. She started to cry. She clutched the baby tightly, turning away from Davis.
BA tried to piece everything together. It didn't make sense. Johnson might have been saying something about a factory. A delivery. Some deal gone bad. He wasn't sure.
A hot, wet gust of wind slapped against the chopper tossing it to the right. BA slid hard into the metal door, his head connecting painfully with the safety bar. He fought to catch his breath. There was an odd roaring in his head. A metallic taste in his mouth. He looked back up. It took a moment to find the others.
The girl and baby were still in the seat, held in place by Davis, but Johnson and the boy were by the open chopper bay. Johnson had the boy by the shirt collar. He shouted at the mother. She sobbed uncontrollably. BA felt like he walked into the middle of a movie.
Johnson spoke again to the mother. She sobbed something back at him, shaking her head. Johnson smiled. Then he tossed the struggling boy out of the helicopter. The small body hung in mid-air for an excruciating second before plummeting noiselessly from sight.
BA couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It couldn't have just happened. It didn't just happen. He looked around the chopper and into the wide shocked eyes of Murdock who strained against the harness holding him into the pilot's seat. Murdock's mouth opened and shut but BA could only hear the pounding of the chopper blades in his ears.
BA looked back at Johnson. The agent had the baby. He swung it back and forth outside the opening. Davis handcuffed the struggling young mother to the middle support beam. BA growled deep in his throat. He began to stand but the seat straps jerked him back with a loud clank.
At the noise, Johnson's attention snapped from the baby to BA. The CIA man pulled his pistol, lowering the screaming baby to his side. He took two steps away from the door and aimed the pistol at BA's head. "Don't think about being a hero, boy. You're no better than these gooks. No one is going to miss a grease monkey and you're lucky I didn't kill you when I saw the factory was gone. Now, if you want to live long enough to enjoy some fried chicken, you just sit right there and be a good boy."
BA bit back the bile in his throat and stopped straining against the straps. He had to unbuckle first, then he could deal with Johnson. Johnson smiled, holstered his gun and returned to the other side of the Huey. BA forced his numb hands work on unbuckling the belts.
Johnson swung the baby back out the door and said something again to the mother. She screamed at him and Davis laughed. Johnson shouted again, waving the baby in mid-air. The chopper shuddered violently. BA finally flipped the last buckle open. The shoulder straps fell away. He looked up at Johnson who still stood next to the open door.
The spook's hands were empty.
"Damn it, Johnson, why'd you toss it out for?" Davis shouted. "She was going to talk." The young mother fought to pull her bleeding hands out of the handcuffs. Her screams echoed through the chopper.
"The damn thing slipped." Johnson shrugged. "We'll have to get it out of her some other way." He grinned and walked toward the sobbing woman. Davis swung the girl around and pressed her hard into the metal pole. BA heard the snap of a bone as the girl's arm twisted.
BA stood and stalked toward them.
Davis fought with the screaming woman, struggling to keep her still. Johnson laughed and said something to Davis. Neither noticed BA's approach.
"Hold her still," Johnson commanded. He pulled a small, wicked looking knife from his boot. "This could be fun." He made a quick slash along her right cheek, leaving a long bloody gash behind.
BA snapped his neck.
Davis swore and released the sobbing woman. He backed up from BA, pulling his sidearm. "Stupid ni--"
A loud report cut him off and he fell to the deck of the chopper, half his head missing.
BA looked up. Murdock stood, pale and panting, holding a smoking gun.
The chopper jerked as the pilot turned to see what had happened. Murdock leveled the gun at him. "Just keep it steady, Austin, and you may be the sole survivor of your unit." Austin's eyes narrowed at Murdock but the chopper steadied.
BA crossed to the hysterical woman. He reached out to see how much damage Johnson had done with his knife but the terrified girl screamed and pulled away from him. She yanked against the handcuffs holding her to the center post and BA could see the bloody gashes her fighting had made on her hands and the obvious fracture in her right arm. He reached down, pulled the keys for the handcuffs off Davis' body and unlocked her.
The young mother scrambled to her feet. She looked around wildly, panic and fear in her eyes. Then, with a scream, she moved toward the open chopper door. BA grabbed at her. Missed. She was almost to the opening. With a strangled cry, he dove for her feet. She dropped out of sight. He slid toward the door. Out the door. He saw the girl's body plunge into the green ocean of leaves below. BA dropped towards the ground after her. For a brief, relieved second he thought he'd die, too. Then his safety line caught and he hung a hundred feet above the treetops.
*~*~*~*
Murdock turned at BA's cry and stared in horror as BA fell. When safety rope snapped tight a second later, Murdock almost cried with relief. "You lucky son of a--"
The chopped dipped and Murdock spun back and faced Austin who pushed the chopper into a steep dive. Murdock jabbed his pistol into the back of Austin's head. "Level her off and bring us down in the next clearing you see. Gently, too. If my buddy hanging off this chopper is hurt in any way, I'm going to spread your brains all over this windshield. You got that?"
Austin nodded. Five impossibly long minutes later the helicopter set down safely next to a small river, it's angry whine as it powered down filled the clearing. Murdock had Austin unbuckle and cuff himself to the center pole next to the bodies of his unit. Murdock spent every second wondering if BA was still alive. So many things could have gone wrong. Murdock forced himself to look out the door.
BA lay where the chopper had dragged him when they landed. He wasn't moving.
Murdock crossed to him hesitantly. "BA?"
BA didn't move but Murdock could see his ragged breathing. Long shuddering breaths ending in painful sobs. Murdock gently touched the big man's shoulder.
BA looked up at him. "They're dead."
Murdock nodded.
BA held out his large hands. "I couldn't save them."
"But you tried. You have to remember that."
"I don't want to remember any of it." BA put his head in his hands and wept.
Murdock sat beside him and waited. The sobbing slowly subsided but it was almost an hour later before BA finally sat up.
"Ready to go, big guy?" Murdock kept his voice calm despite the prickling of fear pushing at him. They were still sitting in enemy territory. They had just killed two superior officers and were holding prisoner a more-than-likely psychotic CIA officer who would probably kill them if given the chance. "We have to get out of here."
BA turned to him, his dark eyes haunted. "I don't wanna go nowhere."
"We have to go back to camp," Murdock insisted. "The chopper is waiting." He gestured to the chopper sitting quietly fifteen feet behind them.
BA stood and glared at the chopper. "I ain't flyin'."
"What do you mean, you're not flying?" This was new. "We got to go."
"I won't." BA backed up until the safety line pulled taunt again. "I die before I fly."
Murdock fought down a surge of irritation. "Look, BA, we have to get out of here. And we have to fly for missions." Murdock struggled to make sense of BA's refusal, searching for the cause. "Not flying isn't going to change what happened."
"What'cha talkin' about, fool?"
The manic look in BA's eyes scared Murdock, so he chose his next words carefully. Slow and easy was always the best route with the big guy. "The girl and the kids. You couldn't have done anything." Neither of us could have done anything, Murdock added silently.
"No." BA shook his head, but his hands trembled and sweat trickled down his face. "I... I don't remember... What kids?"
Murdock paused a moment, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. BA didn't show any signs of injury but a concussion scrambled memories fast. "The refugees from the village. A young mother and--"
"No!" BA cut him off, violently angry. "There weren't nobody in the village."
"Did you hit your head falling out of the chopper? How many fingers am I holding up?" Murdock held up his hand and waved three fingers in front of BA's face. How soon did someone have to get medical attention after a concussion? Was it already too late?
"I can see jus' fine and there ain't nothin' wrong with my memory." BA growled and slapped Murdock's hand away. "When we got there village was empty an' every thin' was burnt up. Nothin' more happened. I remember jus' fine."
"What do you mean, 'Nothin' more happened'?" Murdock's concern faded into a surge of anger. What was BA playing at? "If 'Nothin' more happened', how come we got two dead spooks in the chopper and another one who's planning our court martial and execution?"
BA took two steps past Murdock, moving closer to the chopper, confusion and panic written on his face. Austin and the bodies of Johnson and Davis were clearly visible. "We... we left the village. Everyone was... dead." BA's voice shook and he spoke slowly, as if lost in memory. "We hiked to... to a factory or somethin'. It was burned down. Then, on the way back, I found... I found..." BA stuttered to a halt. He stood, shaking, staring his hands.
Murdock waited for the memory to continue, waited for the truth to wash over his friend. Once BA dealt with it, they would be able to move on.
Nothing happened. BA continued to stare at his hands. Flies droned around them. The angry clouds continued to boil overhead.
Murdock decided to give a gentle push. "You found what, BA?"
BA spun in one breath and grabbed Murdock by the shirt. "Nothin'. I found nothin'!" He shook Murdock with each word. "There was nothin' to find." BA stopped shaking Murdock but he didn't let go. "We... we must have been ambushed on the way back." He glanced at the chopper then glared at Murdock. "We must have been ambushed when we got back to the chopper."
"BA," Murdock forced himself to stay calm. "You know that's not--"
"Shut up!" BA shook Murdock again and his fingers dug into Murdock's shoulders. "Nothin' happened 'til we got back to the chopper." He pulled Murdock close, then let him go.
Suddenly released, Murdock fell back and hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of him. He stared up at BA, desperately fighting to understand. BA looked from his hands to Murdock then to the chopper. There was a dark, panicky look in his eyes and a desperation about his anger that shocked Murdock more than the fall had.
Murdock swore under his breath. This was way beyond a concussion and it was something a lot harder to fix. But all that would have to wait. Right now, they needed to get home. Forcing himself to stay calm, he nodded. "All right," he agreed. "Whatever you want BA, as long as you get in the chopper."
BA glared at him for a moment and then gestured to the Huey. "I'm not getting in there with them."
"Fine," Murdock agreed. "I don't like the idea of flying them back either." He turned and walked back to the chopper to deal with the bodies of the two senior officers they killed and leaving BA alone with his denial.
*~*~*~*
BA watched Murdock as he climbed into the chopper and rolled the Johnson's dead body onto the grass. He remembered leaving on the mission and finding the burnt out factory, but then everything became confusion and dread. When Davis' body hit the ground, BA moved to the door of the chopper, an unreasonable fear and loathing boiling up in side of him. Austin was still handcuffed to the support bar and BA shocked himself with the thought it would be best to kill this CIA agent, too. Murdock must have been thinking the same thing because he hesitated a second before he unlocked Austin and motioned for him to get out of the Huey.
"I'm leaving you," Murdock said once the Austin was out of the chopper. "I ought to kill you, but there's been enough death here today. I want you to go to the edge of the river, kneel down and keep your hands on your head. BA here will watch you."
Murdock handed BA a rifle. "If you behave yourself, I'll leave you a gun and a pack."
Austin nodded and did as Murdock instructed, keeping his hands in sight and moving slowly and deliberately. He followed Murdock's instructions all the while staring at BA as if he expected to be shot at any moment. BA looked at the dead bodies of Johnson and Davis. He didn't remember it happening, but he knew the Murdock had shot Davis and Johnson-- Johnson's neck had been broken. He knew it was wrong, but he was glad they were dead.
The chopper's engines whined to life and its blades began to shake with repressed power. BA didn't move, confused by his feelings of hatred and panic. The chopper blades beat menacingly against the darkened sky. He couldn't bring himself to get in the Huey.
Murdock, returning to the chopper door with a pack and rifle, turned to him. "Climb in and buckle yourself into the co-pilots seat. I'm going to give this to Austin and we and get the hell out of here."
"I'm not flyin'." Like before, BA said it without thinking and, like before, the sound of the words eased some of his panic. "I die before I fly."
Murdock stared at him, clearly annoyed. "I thought we covered this, BA."
BA looked at Murdock and suddenly it seemed everything was the pilot's fault. "Bad things happen with you flyin'." Saying the words gave a target to the pain and a source to the fear. "I ain't flyin' no more." BA clenched his fists and waited for Murdock to try and make him fly. He wanted a fight right now, something to burn up the fear and panic. He wanted something to hit and Murdock was as good a target at any.
Anger flared in Murdock's eyes for a second before he visibly forced himself to be calm. "You've gotta fly, BA,"
"No."
Murdock shot a glance at Austin who hadn't moved but watched them intently. Then he crouched on the deck of the Huey, bringing himself almost eye level with BA. "You gonna stay here and die, is that it, BA? Is that what you want me to tell your Mama: BA didn't come home because he wouldn't fly?"
BA clenched and unclenched his fists. "I don't wanna fly." It was an almost primal need not to get in the chopper.
"But you want to get home and see your Mama again don't you? And what about the team? They need you and they need you to fly. You gonna tell the Colonel and the LT you won't be flying anymore?"
Murdock's voice was calm and reasonable. Everything he said made sense. It only added to BA's newfound hatred. He couldn't shake the feeling something horrible would happen if he got into the chopper. Murdock kept talking.
"You gonna take a court martial and stockade time and the let the team try and make it without you? Your tour is almost up; you'll end up doing more time in the stockade than serving out your tour. You want your Mama coming to visit you in prison?"
"No." No, he couldn't do that. BA took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to push the fear away. Murdock was right. "All right." He climbed into the chopper, his stomach churning and his hands shaking, but his mind was made up. "I'll fly, but only because I want to get home. I'm only flyin' to get home." The words were mantra that allowed him to move to the seat and buckle in. He closed his eyes and thought of home.
*~*~*~*
Murdock sighed and watched BA buckle into the copilot's seat. Then he turned back to Austin who was still kneeling, hands on his head. Murdock tossed him the pack but flung the rifle far off into the clearing on the other side of the chopper. Austin's eyes followed the weapon and Murdock knew he was calculating his chances of getting to the gun before the chopper was out of range. Murdock held up an ammo bag. "It's empty. The ammo is here." He tossed it in the opposite direction of the gun "Our report will be we were ambushed when they got back to the chopper. You got separated and we took off." It was as good a story as any and better than the truth. Murdock waited for Austin's nod, before adding, "If you do get out of here, make sure I never see you." Then Murdock moved back to the pilot's seat and lifted off.
BA didn't say anything when the chopper took flight and Murdock kept an eye on him, waiting for BA to acknowledge what happened, but BA just stared off into the distance, very carefully not looking at anything. Murdock wanted to say something but couldn't force the words out of his mouth; he kept hoping BA would speak first and save him the problem of finding a way to ask him what he was thinking.
They were fifteen minutes out of home base and flying on fumes when BA finally broke the silence. "I hate this fuckin' place."
The vulgarity sounded alien from BA and it was said with such violence Murdock almost felt like BA had hit him.
"We all do, big guy."
"I'm gonna do whatever I have to get out of here. And when I make it home, I ain't never gonna fly again."
"You won't have to BA. Once you're home, you can keep both your feet on the ground."
BA nodded. "An' I'm goin' help kids. I ain't ever gonna let another kid die."
Murdock glanced at BA. He wondered if he realized what he'd said. "That's a good idea. You're good with kids." Murdock frowned. Was BA's memory returning? Was he starting to remember what really happened? He decided to push a little. "There was nothing you could've done. It wasn't your fault."
"What'cha talkin' about, fool?" BA glared at him.
"With the girl and the kid."
If BA hadn't been belted in Murdock thought he would have hit him. "There weren't no girl. There weren't no kid. And there weren't no baby." BA spoke the words slowly and dangerously.
"All right, BA." Murdock tried to sooth the angry man. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah... well," BA faltered, then continued haltingly, "just forget about it, okay?"
Murdock watched as BA sat back in the seat and closed his eyes. The problem was, Murdock knew, you couldn't really forget about something like that. Not even if you thought you did.
*~*~*~*
Central America, 1983
"Times up." Hannibal's voice came from the back door. "It's dawn and we got to get out of here. Murdock, get the plane warmed up."
BA struggled to sit up. "No. No. No flyin'." He looked at Murdock, eyes feverish and wild.
Murdock snapped. He was tired of fighting BA's demons for him. "Knock it off, BA. We all have things we'd rather not think about and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let this little indulgence of yours kill any of us... including you."
"No!" BA was shouting now, almost incoherent. "No!" He grabbed Murdock by the neck, his powerful hands like a vise.
Murdock struggled to keep BA from further ripping open his wounds. "Hannibal!" He barely choked out the name and spots danced in front of his eyes.
Hannibal sprinted across the room and dug in the med kit. A second later he pulled out a syringe and injected the sedative into BA's arm.
BA didn't even flinch when the needle went in and his wild eyes never left Murdock. "Don't let them die. I just... I just let them die." He sobbed once and his grasp slowly loosened and his hand fell to the cot.
Murdock rubbed his neck where BA had gripped it. "Damn it." He hands shook and adrenaline burned in his stomach.
"Are you all right?" Hannibal asked.
"Can you believe that?" Murdock snapped. "I couldn't do anything either, just watch... Why can't he--" Murdock broke off in mid sentence and Hannibal laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. Murdock drew in a shaky breath. He'd told the Colonel and Face everything the minute they'd returned from the mission, but even they couldn't help BA acknowledge what happened. In the end, there was nothing they could do other than go ahead with the cover-up and deal with BA's newfound fear of flying. Murdock hated it, even though he knew better than anyone some things just couldn't be rationalized away. He might not be able to help BA but, damn it, there was no way in hell he was going to let BA die because of it. "I'll taxi the plane around. We gotta get him to a hospital."
*~*~*~*
Amy pulled herself unsteadily to her feet as Murdock jogged past her. She leaned against the door jam and waited for the Colonel to say something, but Hannibal just stared after Murdock. She wanted to ask him what was really going on, but knew she'd never get answer. Not about something like this. Face joined them in the back room, exchanging an indecipherable look with Hannibal. Times like this made Amy sure the team had some sort of telepathic link allowing them to read each other's minds.
"Is he going to be okay, Hannibal?" It was the only question she knew she’d get an answer to.
"He'll be fine, Kid. We've got him." Hannibal and Face lifted the cot and headed out the door.
Amy stared after them for a moment, then followed them out to the plane.
