An A-team Carol

Author's note:
This is a collaboration between GreyGregory14 and Nancepance. A little something for the holidays.
Disclaimer: We don't own the A-team or any of it's characters.
Publishing rights: Both Nancepance and GreyGregory14 retain the right to republish this story including the pieces written by the other writer.

Please enjoy and Merry Christmas!

The first stave - Nancepance

It's Christmas eve and snow blankets the countryside creating a magical atmosphere. The last rays of the winter sun caress the still whiteness and the lonely squad car travelling along the icy road. Inside two men are sitting. One, whose face is marked by a deep scowl and a dark skinned young man who seems like he'd rather be somewhere else. The young man reaches for the car heater, but has his hand sharply slapped away by the older man.
"Keep your hands on the wheel Crane." The man says bitingly. "I'm not letting them get away again."
"But Colonel Decker sir," the young man starts hesitantly "My hands are freezing. I almost can't feel the steering wheel."
"You had the heater on an hour ago, Captain." Decker scathingly looks at his driver. "Catch the A-team, that'll make you feel warm!"
Captain Crane looks like he wants to say something but decides against it. "Yes sir."

They are driving in total silence. The radio had been on for a short while, but the Christmas songs and ads for various charities had his hackles rising. If people just got jobs like they're supposed to, there wouldn't be any need for any of the damn charities! With an angry flick of his wrist he'd turned the blasted thing off. They are startled out of their reverie by the car phone ringing. "Decker… Yes, put him through…" Crane watches his CO from the corner of his eye. It had seemed impossible for the scowl on the colonel's face to get any deeper, but it did. "Charlie… No, I won't be there for Christmas… Because unlike you lazy youths, I'm busy working!... I don't care what your wife thinks… uhuh… Bye…" Decker slams down the phone and crosses his arms. Smith had once again escaped from his clutches. A well-placed explosive, almost had them careening off the road and into a tree, but luckily, they avoided the crash by a hair's breadth. By the time they'd recovered from their shock, the black van had vanished into the distance. He'd immediately ordered Crane into pursuit. The captain had seemed worried. Decker gingerly touches the lump on the side of his head. He apparently hit his head when the car spun out of control.

He glances at the gauges on the lit dashboard. They are very low on fuel and this country road didn't seem to have any gas stations along it. From the corner of his eye he sees Captain Crane studying him.
"Yes?"
Crane looks uncertain, but goes ahead anyway. "Sir, tonight's Christmas eve and I was wondering…"
"Well? Spit it out already!" Decker snaps.
"Well sir, could we stop early tonight? And…" Crane swallows at the angry expression on the colonel's face. "And I would like to take tomorrow off."
"Take tomorrow off? You can't be serious! They can't have gone far in this freak weather. I will have you court martialed for this."
Crane ducks his head. "Yes sir."
Decker studies the captain, taking note of the dark tinge around his lips and the slight shaking in his limbs. Outside, in the growing darkness they pass a sign for a motel a few miles ahead. He sighs…
"Take the next exit and head for the motel. We will stop for tonight, we can start earlier in the morning."
Crane looks startled and grateful at the same time.
"Yes sir, thank you sir."

They arrive at the hotel and the captain quickly goes inside to rent two rooms. He returns with the keys and hands one to Decker. "Have a good night sir." The colonel glares at the younger man and Crane hastily makes himself scarce. Grumbling, Decker gets out of the car and heads for his room. Spotting a gold glint from the corner of his eye he grabs his gun and whirls around...
'It's just an unlit Christmas tree…' He shakes himself like a wet dog and holsters his gun. 'Maybe it is time to hit the hay.' Rubbing his eyes, he puts the key in the lock and opens the door. He's immediately assaulted by the smell of sweet cigar smoke. 'Smith…!' Decker cocks his gun and stands with his back to the wall. With precision, he flicks the light switch revealing an empty motel room. With a curse, he quickly heads out the door, but both the walkway and parking lot are deserted. He scoffs… "Humbug…"

He goes inside and locks the door. After a nice shower, he gets ready for bed. Refreshed and warm, he steps from the bathroom and into the motel room when he spots someone sitting in the armchair. He dives for his weapon only to find the holster empty.
"Ah ah aah… That's not a nice way to greet an old friend, now is it?"
"Smith! I thought it was you."
Hannibal leans back in the chair and lazily lights a cigar throwing the match on the floor. The sickening smell of burning carpet permeates the air before Hannibal stomps it out. "I've come to warn you." Decker moves towards the chair and looms threateningly over the colonel.
"You don't have to warn me Smith… Give yourself up now, and I'll go easy on you."
Hannibal smirks and blows a lungful of smoke in Decker's face. "That's not how this thing works. See, you can't touch me." Decker spots his gun in Hannibal's hand and slowly backs away. He has to find a way to warn Crane. He spots a lamp on a side table, near where he's standing. Maybe he can knock it off. The sound may be enough to attract the captain's attention.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Hannibal cocks the gun. Decker freezes.
"What do you want Smith…?" The colonel grits out between clenched teeth.
"I want justice."
"Justice?!" Decker explodes. "The only justice will be, when you and your men are back behind bars."
Hannibal looks thoughtful for a while, his steely eyes seeing the truth in Decker's. "You really believe that don't you." A clock can be heard chiming further away. He looks at his watch. "My time is nearly up. Hear me… Justice without mercy is unjust."

Decker starts to sputter and opens his mouth to deny it when suddenly all the lights go out.
"Remember Decker," Hannibal's disembodied voice floats through the room. "without mercy, there is no justice." The lights flash back on and the chair is suddenly empty. With a curse, Decker tries to yank the door open only to find it still locked. Unlocking it, he almost rips the door off its hinges and steps out onto the icy cold. Snow is floating down serenely onto the still empty parking lot. No footsteps can be seen in the snow covering the walkway.
"You'll never get away with this Smith!" He shouts into the dark.
"Sir?" A bleary-eyed Crane is gazing at him in confusion through a cracked door. Decker scowls at the young man. He turns around with a huff and slams the door shut. Inside, he finds the gun right where it's supposed to be, in his holster. He takes it out. It's cold to the touch… Far colder than it should be since it had been in Smith's hand just a minute ago. He shrugs and walks past the armchair, noting the curious absence of any scorched carpet.

He shakes his head, he must have hit his head harder than he thought. Nothing like a good night's sleep couldn't fix though. Tomorrow, he would be on their trail like a bloodhound. "Just you wait Smith… Just you wait."