by Dawn Underwood
(Thunderbird)-Nighthawk
Commando
"Hello. My name is Jerry Smithers. I'm here to pick up an . . .
H. M. Murdock," the man said, looking down at the clipboard he was holding.
As he raised his head to look expectantly
at the nurse standing behind the desk, he pushed his thick non-prescription
glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, toward his dark blue eyes.
The nurse consulted her own clipboard. "Captain Murdock is not
scheduled to receive any visitors today, sir. Who did you say sent you?"
"I can't tell you that, ma'am, it's classified information. All
I can do is show you this," he flashed an official looking document in her
direction before he refolded it and replaced it in his inner jacket
pocket, "and tell you that Captain Murdock has been chosen to be part of
a highly top secret government project."
"But --," the nurse began. The man cut her off.
"The general is not going to be pleased when he hears that you,
Lieutenant. . . Wilson," he said as he looked at her name tag and made a note
on his clipboard, "went against orders and refused to turn the patient
over to my custody." He turned toward the door and began walking. Just
before he reached it, he turned. "Consider yourself lucky if the worst thing
that happens is that you get busted down a rank or two. Good day,
*Lieutenant*. Enjoy the rank while you can." He quickly turned and headed
for the door again.
Lieutenant Wilson stopped him just as he paused in front of the door to open
it. "Wait, Mr. Smithers, you're right. You're, um, only following orders,
and you do have that, uh, official written statement, so . . . why don't I
show you to Captain Murdock's room?"
He turned around and gave the beautiful, redheaded nurse a dazzling smile.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. That would be greatly appreciated."
The two had passed only a few doors when the nurse stopped and
produced a key from her pocket. The nameplate next to the door read, "Capt.
H. M. Murdock". She quickly opened the door and stepped inside. "Captain
Murdock, this is --,"
"Mr. Smithers, I know." Murdock then turned his attention to
the man standing in the doorway. "I've been expecting you."
"Um, well, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Captain. Are you
ready to leave now?"
"Yes." Murdock reached down next to his bed and grabbed a
suitcase. "Lead the way," he said as he brushed past Mr. Smithers and
Lieutenant Wilson and walked out the door of his room. He led the trek
outside into the morning sunshine.
Once in the parking lot, the tall pilot turned his large brown
eyes to the man who was following along behind him. "You know, Faceman, you
never cease to amaze me."
"I know. Sometimes I amaze myself. All of these good scams
being used to get you out of the VA. Please, Murdock, this time use the
door, OK?" Face asked as they approached his prized Corvette.
"Sure thing, Face." Murdock opened the passenger side door,
placed his suitcase in the back seat, and closed the door again. "For you,
anything," he said as he quickly and efficiently jumped over the top of
the door and settled into the seat.
Face only shook his head. It was no use to try to argue with
Murdock. "One thing I don't understand, Murdock. How did you know my name?
Read my mind or something?"
"'Course not. You were talkin' loud 'nough they prob'ly heard
ya outside. I'm crazy, but I'm not deaf."
When Murdock and Face pulled up in the driveway to the house that
Hannibal had "borrowed" from a vacationing friend of his, they were bombarded
by loud music and the smell of barbecuing hamburgers.
Face closed his eyes and shook his head, sandy blonde hair
blowing slightly in the breeze. "Hannibal," he sighed as he opened the car
door and got out. Sometimes their leader was worse than a teenage boy.
He was strollin up the sidewalk as Murdock jumped out of the
car, again not using the door. Face paid little attention to the trees that
lined each side of the property, already beginning to turn color in the early
fall. Even with the music from the house blaring, Face was too absorbed in
his thoughts to hear anything. Including Murdock call his name. His reverie
was broken when he was slammed to the ground, the impact causing all the air
to be forced from his lungs. Suddenly, the air was filled with the sounds of
gunfire.
When the last bullet had been fired and he had heard the gunman
run off, fallen leaves crunching under his hasty footfalls, and he was able
to catch his breath again, Face tried to get up. Murdock was still laying on
top of him, but he moved enough for Face to sit up.
Face looked down at himself. He noticed a blood spot on his
pant leg. Knowing that he had not been shot, he immediately looked at
Murdock, who was still lying on the ground, a pained expression on his
face, eyes closed.
"Murdock! Are you okay? Murdock?" Face bent closer to examine the
bleeding bullet wound. The already blood soaked chinos made it difficult to
assess the amount of damage the bullet had done.
Knowing that Murdock could go into shock, instinct took over and Face picked
himself up off the ground and ran to the Corvette, covering the distance in
three steps. Pressing the button on the square black keychain that also
controlled the alarm, Face popped the small trunk. Folded up inside was a
blanket Face kept in the car for emergencies, and the occasional late night
rendezvous. He grabbed it and headed back to Murdock. Keeping the pilot
warm was his first concern.
Covering the pilot as much as possible, Face remembered that he needed to
elevate Murdock's feet slightly. Looking in the almost nonexistant trunk
again, he saw the spare tire -- the only other object in the impeccably kept
car. Reaching in, he hauled the tire out, ready to improvise.
Moving as close the the captain as he could without jostling him too much
and causing more pain, Face lifted Murdock's unhurt leg onto the tire, making
sure that the converse hi-tops were the only thing touching the tire. The
lieutenant looked at the pilot's face. He was still conscious -- that was
good. But the large brown eyes that looked back at him were pain filled.
"Murdock?"
"Hmm?" The wounded man's answer was so soft that the young lieutenant
almost had to close the six foot two inch distance from the hi-top tennis
shoes to the blue baseball cap to hear the reply.
"You're going to have to help me move your other leg, ok? Maybe it'll take
some of the pain off."
After carefully positioning one hand under Murdock's ankle and one under the
heel of his shoe, Face counted to three. From the look that crossed the
captain's features, Face could tell that movement sent pain shooting up and
down the wounded leg.
"I'm sorry," the lieutenant apologized, watching the color drain out of the
captain's face.
Murdock's left hand made a dismissive, flitting gesture, but Peck could see
the muscles in his friend's jaw working.
Face, not wanting to risk trying to move Murdock alone until the colonel
could take a look at the wound, said, "I'll be right back, Murdock"
As he ran through the house, Face shouted for Hannibal and BA.
The sliding glass door to the patio was open. The extremely loud music was
coming from a radio Face could see sitting on a picinic table on the far end
of the backyard. About ten feet away from the table stood a smoking grill
which, from the look of things, Hannibal had been manning. Face was almost
through the living room and to the patio door when he ran into his colonel,
wearing a white apron over his blue tank top and a pair of shorts, short
silver hair slightly windblown from his time outside.
"Hannibal!"
"Lieutenant. What's going on out front?" Hannibal was
already headed out toward the front door.
"Gunfire. Sniper. Murdock's been hit." He tried to keep up
with the older man who was running to the door.
When Hannibal got to the sidewalk, he squatted down next to
Murdock and pulled away the blanket. "How you doing, Captain?" he asked
while inspecting Murdock's leg.
"I think I've been shot, Colonel," Murdock groaned as Hannibal
pulled the pants away from the wound.
"Sorry, Captain, but this is gonna hurt a little." Hannibal
reached down and placed one arm under Murdock's knees and the other firmly
around his back. Then he picked him up off the ground.
Murdock gritted his teeth from the excruciating pain of the
movement. "'A little', Colonel?" Murdock rasped. He tried to fight the
blackness coming over him, but he quickly passed out in Hannibal's arms.
"Lieutenant, get inside. Clear off the couch. We're gonna have
to put him there for now. He's losing a lot of blood; get B.A."
"You want me to call a doctor? We can't give him blood on our
own."
"Get hold of Maggie. Tell her to get over here, now. Tell her
to bring her supplies," commanded Hannibal.
"Well?" questioned Face as the doctor straightened and stepped
away from the couch. Maggie put away her stethoscope and turned
to look at Hannibal and Face.
"Well, he's lucky in one respect. The bullet in his leg missed
the main artery." Face gave a sigh of relief. "And with B.A.'s
donation," she looked at the slightly hunched form of B.A., who had just
donated some of his blood to help Murdock, "he's not in any danger of
bleeding to death."
B.A. looked at the prone form lying on the couch. "I'm just
givin' the crazy foo' back his crazy blood."
"When should he regain consciousness?" asked Hannibal as he lit
his ever present cigar.
"Any time now. He passed out from the pain of you picking him
up, and loss of blood. Both of those problems have been taken care of.
He should be up and walking around in a couple of days," Maggie said.
As if on cue, Murdock began to stir and moan softly.
"Well, speak of the devil," said Face as he went over to
kneel next to the couch. "How're you feeling, Murdock?"
"I'll live."
"Well, now that that's settled," Hannibal stuck the cigar that
had previously been in his hand into his mouth and stood up, "I'll go get
something to eat." He sighed as he looked over to the table at the very
charred hamburgers that had quickly been forgotten. "Face, you stay here
with Murdock. B.A., you go out and see what you can find out about our
friendly gunman, then keep perimeter watch. Maggie, you come with me."
"Hannibal, I'm the doctor. I think I should stay here," Maggie
objected to his order.
"I think," Hannibal walked over and put his arm around the
woman's waist, "that we need to get reacquainted. Don't you?" As he
looked at her, he raised his eyebrows.
She looked into his pale blue eyes, noticing the mischievous
twinkle dancing in them. "Well, when you put it that way, how can I
refuse?" She allowed herself to be led toward the front of the house.
Just before they reached the door, Hannibal turned. "What do you
guys want to eat?"
"Bring me two cheeseburgers," said B.A. as he got up from the
chair he had been sitting in and began to move toward the door.
"Me, too, Hannibal. Just a cheeseburger," said Face as he turned
back to Murdock.
"Murdock? How about you?"
"Oohhh, Haaaannibal," Murdock groaned.
"I'll take that as a 'Nothin' for me, thanks.' You sure you're
ok? You look like you're gonna lose whatever you had for lunch all over
Face," Hannibal observed.
"He'll be fine. Go. The rest of us *are* hungry," said Face as
he looked impatiently back at Hannibal.
When the others had all left, Face looked to his friend.
"Murdock, I just want to..."
"No, Faceman, don't say it. You know you'd 'a done the same
thing in my place. I saw 'em, you didn't. No biggie."
"But you saved my life. I owe you for that."
"No, you don't. We're a team. We hafta look out for each other.
If we didn't, the A-Team wouldn't last very long." Murdock attempted to
get comfortable on the couch, dismissing the idea. "Now, I'm gonna take
a nap. I'm beat."
"Lieutenant, get inside. Clear off the couch. We're gonna have to
put him there for now. He's losing a lot of blood; get B.A."
"You want me to call a doctor? We can't give him blood on our
own."
"Get hold of Maggie. Tell her to get over here, now. Tell her
to bring her supplies," commanded Hannibal.
The beginning of part 3......
Face made room on the living room sofa for the colonel to set Murdock down,
placing the blanket that had covered the pilot only moments before underhim
to keep from staining the borrowed couch with blood while they did their best
to tend to Murdock's wound. BA had dialed the number to a friend of the
Team's, Doctor Maggie Sullivan, while Hannibal and Face attempted to place
Murdock on thecouch.
BA held the phone, which appeared tiny in his massive hand, to his ear as he
waited impatiently for the woman to answer. When she finally did, BA said,
"Doc? it's BA. We got a problem."
"Face, gather whatever first aid supplies you can find and bring them here.
Grab another blanket while you're looking, kid. BA, let me talk to her."
BA handed the telephone to the colonel and stepped aside, moving over to the
couch to be next to Murdock.
"Doc? It's Hannibal." He paused slightly, listening. "Yeah, Murdock took
a hit in the leg." He looked over at the couch.
Face had come back into the room with bandages, a bottle of peroxide and one
of slcohol, and a pair of scissors. He laid the supplies on the table near
teh couch, taking the scissors to Murdock's pants. Quickly cutting the
bloody material away from the wound, he began to clean the sticky red liquid
away, hoping to get a better look.
"Face is doing that now," Hannibal continued. He watched BA reach out from
his position, standing behind the sofa and over Murdock, and thake his
friend's hand.
"Ya gotta hang in there, fool,"he said, the concern showing in his voice,
even though he addressed the pilot as normal.
"'Sok. 'Malright, big guy. 'M ok."
"How long until you get here?" Hannibal asked the doctor. He paused long
enough for her to anser before speaking again. "Ok, Doc. We'll do what we
can until you get here." He hung up the phone, ending the conversation.
Face looked up as Hannibal approached the trio. In answer to the
lieutenant's silent question, Hannibal said, "It's a two hour drive from Bad
Rock here. I figure we'll see her in an hour and a half. BA," he looked at
the sergeant, "go out and see what kinds of goodies the slimball left behind.
Then keep watch. Make sure the only company we get is Maggie."
The sergeant nodded, squeezed Murdock's ahnd one last time before placing it
carefully next to his body, and moved out to do as ordered.
hannibal looked at Murdock. Teh pilot was pale, buthis eyes were open,
though pain filled. "How are you feeling, Captain?"
"'M ok," was the only response.
"How's it look, Lieutenant?"
"Deep. But what bullet wound isn't?" Face grabbed another piece of gauze
bandage off of the table as the last became blood soaked. He looked at his
hands. They, too, were covered in his friend's blood. "We've got to find
some way of stoppin the bleeding, Hannibal. At this rate, he'll be more than
a little low by the time Maggie gets here."
hannibal noded. "I know. Just keep applying pressure. It's about all we
can do." *And hope Maggie getts here soon,* he added silently. From the
look on his lieutenant's face, Hannibal knew the kid was thinking the same
thing.
"Well?" questioned Face as the small, dark haired doctor
straightened and stepped away from the couch. Maggie put away her
stethoscope and turned to look at Hannibal and Face.
"Well, he's lucky in one respect. The bullet missed the main
artery." Face gave a sigh of relief. "And with B.A.'s donation," she looked
at the slightly hunched form of B.A., who had just donated some of his blood
to help Murdock, "he's not in any danger of bleeding to death. You guys got
any orange juice?" Face rose from his chair.
"I'll check."
Maggie nodded. "If so, bring the big guy a glass."
B.A. looked at the prone form lying on the couch. "I'm just
givin' the crazy foo' back his crazy blood."
"When should he regain consciousness?" asked Hannibal as he
lit his ever present cigar.
"Any time now. He passed out from the pain of you picking
him up, and loss of blood. Both of those problems have been taken care of.
He should be up and walking around in a couple of days," Maggie said, adding
silently, *If you guys manage to stay out of trouble.*
As if on cue, Murdock began to stir and moan softly.
"Well, speak of the devil," said Face as he went over to
kneel next to the couch. "How're you feeling, Murdock?"
Murdock looked around, brown eyes wide, not quite focusing yet. He knew
Face was speaking to him from very close by. Slowly, the world started to
come into focus. "I'll live," he said. His voice sounded weak, even to his
own ears.
"Well, now that that's settled," Hannibal stuck the cigar
that had previously been in his hand into his mouth and stood up, "I'll go
get something to eat." He sighed as he looked over to the table at the very
charred hamburgers that had quickly been forgotten. "Face, you stay here
with Murdock. B.A., go out and see if you might have missed something in
your search earlier. Maggie, you come with me."
"Hannibal, I'm the doctor. I think I should stay here,"
Maggie objected to his order.
"I think," Hannibal walked over and put his arm around the
woman's waist, "that we need to get reacquainted. Don't you?" As he looked
at her, he raised his eyebrows.
She looked into his attractive and compelling pale blue eyes,
noticing the mischievous twinkle dancing in them. "Well, when you put it
that way, how can I refuse?" She allowed herself to be led toward the front
of the house.
Just before they reached the door, Hannibal turned. "What do
you guys want to eat?"
"Bring me two cheeseburgers," said B.A. as he got up from the
chair he had been sitting in and began to move toward the patio door.
"Me, too, Hannibal. Just a cheeseburger," said Face as he
turned back to Murdock.
"Murdock? How about you?"
"Oohhh, Haaaannibal," Murdock groaned.
"I'll take that as a 'Nothin' for me, thanks.' You sure
you're ok? You look like you're gonna lose whatever you had for lunch all
over Face," Hannibal observed.
"He'll be fine. Go. The rest of us *are* hungry," said Face
as he looked impatiently back at his colonel.
When the others had gone on their seperate assignments, Face
looked to his friend. "Murdock, I just want to..."
"No, Faceman, don't say it. You know you'd 'a done the same
thing in my place. I saw 'em, you didn't. No biggie."
Face looked at his hands. he's washed them several times,
but never felt as if he could remove all the blood from them. "But you saved
my life. I owe you for that."
"No, you don't. We're a team. We hafta look out for each
other. If we didn't, the A-Team wouldn't last very long." Murdock attempted
to get comfortable on the couch, dismissing the idea. "Now, I'm gonna take a
nap. I'm beat
> Everyone in the room turned an accusatory eye to Maggie. "What?
What did I say?"
"I ain't no assassin." B.A. stated.
"Neither am I."
The Team turned back to their guest. "Then what *are* you?"
Hannibal asked.
"I already told ya that. I'm not an assassin."
"But you've been hired to kill me. That's what assassins do.
They get paid to kill people." Face shifted in his chair, uncomfortable
under the intense stare of the girl.
"I told ya, I help people. This is only a job. A job I knew
from the beginnin' couldn't be successful."
"Then . . . ," Murdock tipped his head to the side, "then why,
may I ask, are you here?"
"I needed the money," she sighed. she looked at Face. "Mr.
Marlowe paid several grand up front. It's mine to keep, even if I only
wound you, Peck."
"Please, call me 'Face.' Everyone else does." His hands moved
as he spoke, indicating everyone in the room.
"And? there must be more to this story," Hannibal said. "No one
pays that much money and then doesn't make sure the job gets done. So,
the question is, how long until this Marlowe guy gets here?"
"A matter of hours. When y'all so kindly left me here tied to
this blasted chair with that danged spider, I noticed sumthun' I hadn't
seen before. Now, if y'all will be so kind as to let me free, I may be
able to find out what it is." B.A. started to move in Randi's direction
to untie her, but Hannibal put out his hand in a halting gesture.
"Where is it?" he asked, not wanting to untie her while it was
possible she was still armed, although B.A. and Maggie had taken her gun
from Face. She had dropped it when Face had jumped her only a few
minutes earlier.
"It's in my holster," she told him. "You guys are careful."
"Well, you don't live as long as we have, the way that we have,
without being cautious," Hannibal assured her. "B.A.," he said, the
silent order understood well.
The sergeant reached over and removed the shoulder holster from
Randi's ribs. Hannibal watched as B.A. reached in and fished out a very
small electronic device, inspecting it carefully.
"What is it, Sergeant?"
"A micro homing device, man. They gonna be on the way. It's
been sending out a signal since she got here, man."
"Well, we'll just have to have a little surprise waiting for them
when they get here. B.A. go see what we've got around here that we can
use," Hannibal said, his eyes sparkling as he stuck his cigar into his
mouth.
Face looked away from Hannibal and shook his head. "Hannibal's
on the Jazz," he sighed.
As the warm sunshine shone down on them, BA stepped back into
line with the rest of the Team, including Maggie, Randi, who had insisted
on helping, and Face, who was seeing it for the first time, to admire
their newest creation.
"Beautiful," said Hannibal, grinning, "beautiful." He placed his
ever present cigar into his mouth as he continued to grin.
Face walked up to the monstrosity and picked up an old vacuum
cleaner. "What was this supposed to do again?"
Murdock walked up beside him. "Faceman," he started, his hands
illustrating his words, "you gotta understand the intricacies and the
minute details of the colonel's plans. Because without those, there
would *be* no plan."
"But what does it *do*, Murdock?"
The captain stuffed his hands into the pockets of his khaki
slacks and squinted out at Face from under his blue baseball cap. "It
blows dirt." He shrugged his shoulders before turning back to the rest
of the group.
Hannibal also turned to face the group, holding the cigar in his
right hand while he spoke. "Randi, you're sure you want to work against
this Marlowe guy?"
"I've been thinkin' 'bout it quite a bit, Hannibal, and it's time
ta take guys like him out. This nozzle's toast." Her tone conveyed her
conviction.
Hannibal grinned. "*That's* what I like to hear. Welcome to the
A-Team." He then turned his attention to Murdock, who was looking at
Randi. "How's the leg, Captain?"
"Couldn't be better, Colonel. Uh, how long you figure we got
'til all Hades breaks loose?"
Hannibal looked at his watch. "About thirty minutes, I'd say.
Face," he said turning to look at his 'supply officer', "did you get it?"
"Ah, yeah, I got it. Do you have any idea what I had to go
through to get this thing?" Face whined as he reached into the inner
pocket of his suit jacket and handed the small, black plastic box to
Hannibal. "I mean, I had to drive all the way to the next town. Then,
when I finally found the store, the woman running the place almost wasn't
believing my story. And that was *after* she asked why I wanted that."
He pointed to the box that Hannibal was inspecting. "Said she didn't
think there was such a thing as the National Explosives Experts of
America."
"Uh, Face?"
Face stopped talking long enough to look at Murdock. "Hmmm?"
"Um, there isn't such a thing as the National Explosives Experts
of America."
"Ah, well, you see, you and I know that, but *she* wasn't
supposed to."
Hannibal had taken the box when Face held it out and had been
looking at it. "Nice," he said as he handed it to BA. "Sergeant, put
that where it'll make a bang of an impression." He laughed mischievously
as he put his cigar back into his mouth.
BA gave a low growl as he moved off to plant the small but
powerful explosive.
The long black limousine rolled to a stop in front of the house.
The chauffeur got out of the car and walked around and opened the rear
passenger side door. The man who stepped out was dressed in an expensive
black suit that was probably more expensive than any Face owned, dark
sunglasses, and he looked ready for business. Two very muscular men
followed him out of the limo.
Face gave a low whistle while looking through the binoculars.
"Hannibal, you should see this guy," he said into the walkie-talkie he
held close to his mouth. "I think he means business."
"I see him, Lieutenant. Murdock, you ready?"
"Ready ready ready, Colonel."
"Randi, Maggie, you with us?" Hannibal checked to make sure
everyone was where they were supposed to be and ready for what might
happen.
Maggie looked to Randi, who was holding the walkie-talkie, and
gave her a curt nod. "We're ready, Hannibal," Randi reported.
Before the colonel could radio B.A., the sergeant contacted him.
"He's at the door, Hannibal."
From Hannibal's position up stairs, he was out of sight of the
men entering the front door of the house, but he could still see
everything going on below him. The three men walked through the front
door, and stopped, looking around them. Marlowe ordered that they split
up and search the house for the girl.
Maggie was lying on the floor, Randi standing over her, bookend
in hand, when one of the men rounded the corner.
Surprised, she turned on the man. Seeing who it was that she was
about to attack, she stopped her advance. She dropped the bookend and
almost ran to him.
Wrapping her arms around the man's neck and stepping closer, she
breathed, "Oh, George. I didn't think y'all would ever get here in time.
She was gonna kill me!"
She stretched up to kiss the man, and slowly lead him away from
the body, making sure his back was to the motionless woman.
George was quite distracted by the more than willing woman in his
arms when his eyes suddenly rolled and he collapsed forward.
Randi caught him before he hit the floor, and she and Maggie
slowly laid him down, careful to remain silent. Maggie held up the
bookend that Randi had dropped only moments before and smiled. Randi
grinned, and motioned for Maggie to follow.
The thug walked around the corner of the upstairs bedroom,
surprising Face. The young lieutenant turned around, saw the goon, and
immediately threw a punch into the man's midsection. Seeing that this
had no effect on the man, Peck took a swing at the man's face. The man
stood several inches taller than Face, and caught his fist halfway to
it's destination. Peck's eyes grew wide with surprise at the man's
strength and he gave a yelp.
"Murdock!"
Murdock launched himself onto the man's back, seemingly coming
from out of nowhere. The man, thrown off balance by the new weight on
his back, released his hold on Peck.
Murdock was holding the man in a strangle hold while Face
assaulted his stomach again. Neither of the actions being taken on the
man seemed to have any effect, so Murdock wrapped his legs around the
man's waist and, with both hands, grabbed hold of the door. Using his
lower body strength and his weight on the man's back, Murdock forced the
man's head, roughly, into the edge of the door. The body under Murdock
crumpled as the man lost consciousness. Murdock was unable to get out of
the way quickly enough, and the goon fell on top of him.
Face, seeing Murdock's latest predicament, came over to lend a
hand. "Nice, Murdock. Thanks."
"No problem, Faceman," he said, getting up off the floor and
heading for the door. "Now let's go see how the colonel's coming along."
Marlowe stood alone in the center of the room. He looked around
and waited for his men to find the girl and bring her to him. He spun
around at the sound of a rifle being prepared to be fired, above and
behind him.
"That's far enough, pal," Hannibal said, stressing the last word,
adding to the absurdity of the situation, all the while training the gun
on Marlowe.
"What have you done with her?" Marlowe demanded.
"You're not really concerned about her, are you? It's the money
you're after. Just to make you feel better, though, I'll let you know
that the money is safe. From you."
"You'll never get away with this. You do realize that, don't
you?" Marlowe snapped his fingers, expecting his men to come out of the
rooms they had gone into. Instead, Randi, Maggie, and the rest of the
Team appeared. Marlowe looked around him and took a step backward. He
quickly regained his composure. "I've got another car full of
reinforcements that should be here any second."
"Uh, are they in a white limo?" Face asked while looking out a
front window.
When Marlowe only looked at Hannibal smugly, Face continued. "I
think they're here."
Hannibal turned to B.A. "Do it, Sergeant."
B.A. grinned, to everyone's surprise, and flipped a switch on a
box in his hand. Everyone heard a very loud explosion from the general
direction of the driveway.
Face looked back out the window and sighed, pulling back the left
side of his suit jacket and putting his left hand in his pants pocket.
"Yeah, just like we planned. Upside down."
Hannibal grinned. "Great, isn't it?"
Maggie, Randi, Hannibal, and the rest of the A-Team stood in the
living room of the house, surveying their work. they had taken out the
bad guys, flipped a car, which seemed, Murdock mused, to happen more
often on the more recent missions, and all without destroying the
borrowed house.
"Y'all are good. There's a lot someone like me could learn from
ya," Randi said, looking from each member of the A-Team to the next,
thinking in turn about what each man brought to the group; the piece of
himself that could not exist without the others. Her eyes and thoughts
eventually came to rest on Smith. The leader of the fugitive team.
Emotionally he was probably the strongest man she had ever known, with
the exception of her father. No one, in her eyes, could quite equal her
father. But, if there was one man who could rival him, it would be
Hannibal Smith. She looked deeply into his piercing, pale blue eyes and
seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. she also knew what she had
to tell him.
Hannibal looked to each of his men, noting that they all agreed
with him, and turned back to Randi. "Well, since you can't exactly stay
here and wait on the police to take these slime balls away, you could
come with us."
She continued to look at Hannibal. "Become part of the A-Team?"
When Hannibal nodded his head, she continued. "As much as I'd love to
say yes, I can't." Murdock began to protest her decision, but she
continued to speak. "You four really are a team. A family. Y'all are
perfect the way ya are. Y'all don't need a fifth wheel. it would throw
your balance off and you'd no longer think or act as one. Not for a
while, anyway. No, y'all are better off as ya are; just the four of ya."
Hannibal seemed to know what she was going to say, before she
said it. He nodded his head. "I didn't think you'd accept the offer."
"Don't think you're gettin' rid of me that quickly, Smith.
You'll see me again. When you least expect it. But it won't be because
I've been hired by some slime ball to kill one of ya. And that's a
promise." She grinned at Murdock's relieved look at never again having
her shoot at them.
Hannibal grinned, too. "What's the matter, Captain? Her aim too
good for you?" He turned back to Randi. "If you ever change your
mind..."
She smiled. "I doubt it, but I'll keep it in mind, just in case.
Thanks."
"Uh, Hannibal, I'm going to call the police now." Face gestured
to the men tied up in the corner of the room, They... they're starting to
come around. I'd rather have them a bit groggy when we get out of here
and the police arrive -- hmmm?"
Hannibal nodded at Face. "Ok. Maggie, you're going to stay here
and wait for the police. Randi, you sure we can't drop you somewhere?"
"Naw. I'll leave the same way I came in." She grinned.
"Through the back door."
"We best go out the front doo' and into my van before the police
git here and take *us* in," BA said, moving towards the front door.
Face rejoined the group. "Um, they'll be here in five minutes,
Hannibal," he said, checking his watch.
"Ok, guys, lets go." Hannibal looked at Randi and Maggie and
gave them both a small wave goodbye. he turned and brought up the rear
as they moved toward the door.
Just before closing it behind them, Hannibal turned one last time
to say goodbye, but Randi was gone. He grinned. he knew she would be
alright. He also knew that, like she promised, they would see her again.
THE END
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