A/N: I was going to wait a little while to start writing this but then I changed my mind, so here's the first chapter to my new multi-chapter A-Team fic! Please read and review. (:
Disclaimer: I don't own the A-Team.
Chapter 1: Finding The A-Team.
The crashing sound of the metal trays hitting the ground filled the once quiet back room of Sam Anderson's butchery. It was the third time that week that scumbags had broken in to destroy the place. Josh Parsons, another local butcher, was determined to make sure that his place was the only local butchery open for business and he was prepared to get what he wanted in any way he could.
Four goons stood by the side of Josh, baseball bats and crowbars in hand.
"Now I don't have to tell you again, do I?" Josh cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side with a sadistic smirk, "if you don't close down this place, we'll have to close down you."
"You won't get what you want, Josh, I promise you that." It was brave of Sam to try and stand up to the man who was threatening him, but when he found himself bent over the wooden chopping block with his arm twisted behind his back, he was beginning to wish that he hadn't said anything at all.
"I will get exactly what I want, Anderson, or you'll lose more than your shop." Josh picked off one of the pictures of Sam's daughter from the pin board and grinned, "Such a precious little girl you got here, Sammy. It would be a shame if she were to go missing like a lot of other children in this city."
"Touch her and I'll make you wish you weren't born," Sam threatened, but Josh laughed it off and tipped one of the metal tables over, a crashing sound rattling everyone's ears.
"You've got one more week to shut this place down, Anderson, or we'll do it the hard way."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Sam Anderson collapsed on the barstool, completely exhausted from his day. He'd been to see a Chinese launder, a newspaper man and now he was told to go to a bar to find the A-Team. If somebody told him to go somewhere else he was calling it a day. It was clear to him that if the team didn't want to be found then they wouldn't. He just wanted it to be all over – not to mention that he was extremely jetlagged from his flight to LA.
"Excuse me?" Sam said to the bartender who walked over to him, "I'd like a glass of water please."
"Certainly." The tender disappeared for a moment before coming back with the water. Sam thanked him and looked around the room before the tender started talking again, "you're not from 'round here, are you?"
"Can you tell?" Sam asked with a small smile, "England… I'm definitely a long way from home."
"Are you here on business or pleasure?"
"Business, unfortunately. I'm meeting some people." He checked his watch, "or I should be. They're late. I don't suppose they've left a message for Sam Anderson at all?"
The tender went to ask around but shook his head. Sam sighed.
"Looks like this just isn't my week. Thank you, anyway." He got up to leave but the tender put his hand on his arm and looked right at him.
"I think there might be some people waiting around the back for you."
Sam frowned, confused slightly, but he followed the bar tender around to the back.
"You just found the A-Team, Mr. Anderson." The tender said with a smile and Sam's frown deepened for a moment before he broke out into a smile. Maybe his luck was changing after all.
"I'm Hannibal Smith," the man said, removing his wig to reveal his white hair. Three other men walked through a door smiling, as Hannibal introduced them as Face, Murdock and B.A. Then it was time to get down to business.
"According to Mr. Lee," Hannibal started, "your butchery has been sabotaged repeatedly by a man called Josh Parsons?"
"Yes," Sam nodded, "he's broke in at night time and stolen my meat, or opened vac-packed items and left them out so they're covered with flies in the morning – the blood from the meat attracts them and it's a pain to keep them away during the day when we're around so at night time… He's smashed up expensive equipment because his own isn't any good. He's rude his customers and scares them into coming back – and his meat isn't even that nice. It's all close to being spoiled; definitely not fresh at all. He's told me to close down three times already, even offered to buy me out but my business took a long time to build up and I've got a family to provide for: a wife and two little kids."
"And you want us to teach this guy a few manners?" Hannibal suggested with a smile on his face. Sam nodded, silently.
"I don't know about this Hannibal – I don't have anything in my wardrobe that screams 'butcher'," Face said with an unhappy expression.
"That's 'kay, Face you can borrow somethin' of mine," Murdock grinned, nudging the other man with his elbow. Face didn't look impressed with that either and leaned against the wall with a sour expression.
"How are you going to pay for us, Mr. Anderson? We're very expensive, especially overseas." Hannibal crossed his arms and chewed on the end of his cigar. Sam smiled.
"I'll sign the shop over to you and you can take half of the profits when you've got Josh off my back."
"Running a butchery? Hannibal we've never done anything like that before. What do we know about something like that?" Face said, making the fact he didn't think it was a good idea very obvious. B.A. nodded in agreement. Going over to England to help would mean flying and that was definitely a no-go on his list of things he wanted to do that year.
"Come on guys, it'll be fun. Besides, when was the last time we went to England?" Hannibal said, the twinkle in his eye already suggesting that he was on the Jazz and a plan was forming in his head. Face rolled his eyes, knowing that whatever he protested, or whatever point he brought up would be useless now. B.A. knew that sooner or later, whether he liked it or not, he was going to wake up with a throbbing head in the middle of England. Murdock grinned because he was going to be able to fly and be in the air and be as far away from the VA as possible.
Hannibal looked at his men and took in their expressions before turning to Sam and nodding with a smile.
"Alright, you've got yourself a deal. Sam Anderson, you just hired The A-Team."
