INTRO: Okay, this is my first attempt at a legitimate A-Team fic, and I'm super-nervous, so be kind...

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the A-Team, but I do own the characters of Gavin, Sickle, and Jonas, plus Amy's family.

1

26 year-old part-time newspaper reporter and former A-Team member Amy Amanda Allen half-laughed, half-groaned as her eleven year-old brother, Nicky, told a knock-knock joke he had been intermittently repeating for the past half hour. "Don't you know any more jokes, Nicky?"

"Mmm… No. I mean, I've heard lots, but I can't remember any."

"Give it a rest, huh?"

"'Kay. Where're we goin', anyway?"

They were on the outskirts of Louisville, Kentucky. Amy's father, John, had received a call about an injured foal being seen along one of the roads. John Allen was reknowned through the area for his equine veterinary work, and he had been asked to collect the foal and take a look at it. John was busy that day, so he'd sent Amy. Nicky, of course, had begged to come along.

"Somebody saw a foal along the road. They said it was hurt, and wanted Dad to take a look at it," Amy explained, turning the pickup truck onto a thin dirt road. "They said it was somewhere up around here." To herself, she thought, I hope we don't run into any of Gavin's men …

Amy spotted a small, still form on the side of the road. The foal. She stopped the truck and got out.

She was bending over the foal, in order to examine it, when another pickup pulled up, almost rear-ending the trailer attached to the Allens' truck. Amy recognized the logo on the door – "Mark Gavin Stables".

Two of Gavin's foremen stepped out of the truck. Amy recognized them. Tony Sickle and Sam Jonas – one was an ex-boxer, the other was a streetfighter. She hoped there wouldn't be any violence…

"Well, well, well, Sam," Sickle remarked. "Lookee here. And here we was expectin' Johnny Allen himself. But he's sent his pretty daughter, instead."

Nicky had gotten out of the truck and come over to where Amy stood rigidly. "Amy, can we go home? I'm scared."

"Aw, ain't nothin' to be scared about, sonny," said Jonas.

"What do you want?" Amy asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"We just wanna… have a little talk." Sickle took a couple steps forward, and Amy moved protectively in front of Nicky. "See, Mr. Gavin ain't too happy with your daddy."

"And we was sent here to teach him a little lesson. Only he ain't here. Whaddya think we oughta do 'bout that, Tony?"

Sickle gave a menacing grin. "Let's see how cooperative Allen is when you've been roughed up a little."

Quietly, Amy said, "Nicky, get back in the truck."

"Why?"

"Just do what I tell you. Get in the truck."

Neither Sickle nor Jonas moved as Nicky walked back to the truck and got inside. Amy tensed, getting ready to run.

She made a dash for the truck, but Jonas grabbed her shoulders and shoved her onto the ground. She hit the road, rolling a couple of feet, but jumped back up again.

Jonas and Sickle were between her and the truck.

Gritting her teeth, Amy feinted running to the left, then raced past Jonas and Sickle as they moved in that direction. She reached the truck door, but Sickle was right behind her. He pushed her into the truck. Her arm went straight through the closed window. Amy let out a little cry as shards of glass pierced her skin.

Sickle raised his fist and landed a blow on the left side of Amy's face, hitting her directly in the eye. Amy sank to her knees, dizzy and disoriented. She heard Sickle and Jonas laughing, and then one of them said, "That oughta do it for now." A minute later, their truck roared away, covering Amy with dust as they sped past.

Nicky got out of the truck and ran to his sister. "Amy? Amy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Nicky," Amy said, giving him a one-armed hug. She watched Jonas and Sickle's truck disappear from sight, and sighed. "We're going to need some help.