Disclaimer: I do not own The A-team.
Hi, author here that came from the 21st century. And is currently living in a luxury called boredom. I am also not an elderly and has NEVER witnessed or participated in any type of war. Thank you, god. So, I am very sorry if I got some facts wrong here or the whole story line or time line seems way off.
However, please enjoy the story and please, please, please review!
"Good work, Murdock." Hannibal said as he gave a clap on the pilot's back. The pilot grinned back in return. "Nah, I would do anything to see the ugly mudsucker again." He said it in a soft voice in case the sergeant heard him. And if the sergeant heard him, the sergeant would be threatening to kill him or punching his lights out with the usual 'I'm gonna punch you, fool!' sentence. And even though Murdock would gladly receive the threats with a crazy grin and ridiculous threats, he was certainly not in the mood today. He had spent the whole 5 days worried to what would happen to the team, his dear beloved team. Also, he had to keep an absolute sharp mind when he piloted the helicopter. Sure, he knew that the team was way more tired than he was, being kept on full alert for five days straight and all but he really was tired.
Hannibal stared at him with wary but knowledgeable eyes as if analyzing him. Murdock could not help but shift uncertainly under the colonel's stern gaze. The colonel knew something was up, that was for sure, no doubt about it. So Murdock gave a crazy grin mixed in with a tint of fatigue and gave the colonel a thumbs up. Seeing the action, Hannibal gave a grin himself and gave one more pat on his back. Then he up and left the helicopter along with the others. Once the colonel was out from sight, Murdock felt himself let out a sigh of relief. That was when tiredness crashed down onto him, full force. And to think he was already tired at the first place, now he felt like all he wanted to do was to curl up and sleep with no care and worries at all. So the beers and ladies and a certain person would have to wait until the next day.
So, HM Murdock used his last remaining strength, pulled himself up from the seat, and left the helicopter, all ready for a warm bath and a not so comfy cot in his bunk.
Lieutenant Templeton Arthur Peck took a huge breath in and let it out in an exaggerated way. He sat alone at a table in the bar. Everyone there knew him, everyone there has a relationship either one way or another (not the love-love type mind you) and they knew him long enough that when the young lieutenant was to come into the bar with a troubled expression on his face, gulping down beer instead of his usual sips of scotch and sighing ever few minutes with a shake of his head, they should really steer clear of him. So that was how Templeton Peck found himself sitting alone at a table instead of the usual crowd of beautiful ladies around him.
Lately, Peck found himself running lesser and lesser scams. No longer did he flash his ever-so-famous smile, no longer did he kept cards concealed in his sleeve to cheat in poker and no longer did he feel like opening his mouth to tell lies to get him what he wanted, or needed. For the past few weeks, he was going the so-called 'right' path. He paid real cash to whatever he bought or rented. He did not say anything to his superior officer when he did not do the necessary paperwork and accepting the punishment quietly. No more lies, no more scams and no more fake identities. Which besides his belief that this had more cons than pros had brought him a few quirks. One, his superior officer (2 of them) had lain of him. They did not seek trouble out of him anymore, choosing more to disturb the other officers. Secondly, the superior officers had chosen to be friendly with him, finally noticing him as someone different from a typical conman. Peck could not help but snort at that. As if they had not enjoyed all the benefits Peck had worked hard to give the team. This means he finally received something else than a glare and a sneer. And lastly, the superior officers had oh-so-kindly gave him more benefits. Like more time off. He honestly spent too much time in front of a desk writing work. One would certainly notice that all his benefits had something to do with the superior officers. Well, the superior officers hated him. True, they liked the benefits but they were too narrow-minded, too much of a sticker of the rules. And, Peck was born to be breaking the rules. So the superior officers certainly had a certain type of hatred to him.
Peck sighed once more and took a huge gulp of his 9th cup of beer. His mind felt really hazy and man, was he confused. He knew for certain the chances of him waking up with a hangover the next day would be high. However, that day was really important to him. It was the day Leslie left him. The day where he found Leslie's friend telling him that she left. The day where his hopes for a good, normal life with Leslie as his wife got crushed. And the day where he made a decision that he no longer had anything to lose and went (stupidly) to join the army. And now, he was smack right in the middle of Vietnam to do paperwork. No, not fight in the front lines but to do paperwork. He let out an uncontrolled burst of laughter.
He knew he should stop drinking now. He thinks too much when he drinks. And he knew that he should not be here. There was a certain Sergeant Mac Parker who was too much of a hothead that was out there to kill him. It was not his fault that Mac's girlfriend preferred Peck to him. What could he say? He was a charmer by birth or so the nuns said. So, Peck placed his 9th cup down, took out a few bills from his pocket to pay the bartender and was about to leave when…
"Peck…" A man growled.
Oopsie Daisy. It seems that he did not leave fast enough and Mac had found him. Despite the obvious trouble he was in, Peck let out a grin on his face. He was getting into trouble with his superior officers now. He knew all the benefits would be gone by the next sunrise, but he did not care. What he wanted, he'll work his ass off to get it for himself. Oh the hell to it…
And with that, Peck even in a drunken state, expertly dodged the wild punch aimed for his head. He needed the fun anyways.
Murdock walked into the bar and found a familiar face there. With a grin plastered on his face, he walked towards the table and greeted in a British accent, "Hello, dear Templeton Peck. Why would a man such as you be here in such a fabulous afternoon? And may I ask, where is the usual pretty face?" The man he was talking to scowled at him with annoyance. "Why, thank you, Murdock. I feel so much better now." Murdock gave a hearty laugh as he pulled out a chair and sat next to the lieutenant.
Even though it was not so obvious, Templeton Peck, the young man that Murdock felt sure that was a bit too young to be fighting war, was his best friend. Yep, a person that most would describe as mental were best friends with a conman. Great combination most would say with obvious sarcasm. Murdock could faintly remember the first time they met. As usual, they met in a bar, the same old bar they were in now. Almost immediately they had a liking towards each other and Murdock absolutely loved the way Peck would entertain him by listening to his crazy stories with interest. Peck was the first person to understand him so well, second being Hannibal. If Murdock was in trouble, he could bet that the first person to help him was the lieutenant himself. And I would do exactly the same for him.
Right now, the lieutenant was sitting beside him with another beer in his hands. His face, usually unscathed and handsome was filled with bruises and plaster. Murdock could not help but grimaced and sympathize his friend. "So what happened?" he asked as he ordered himself a beer.
Peck shrugged. "Neh… Same old, same old. Some ex-boyfriend got pissed I stole his girlfriend. Well, ex-girlfriend anyway. She's seeing someone else right now." He took a sip of the beer. (He's an excellent drinker.) "I can't see why Mac doesn't go and beat up her current boyfriend. It's not as if she's with me anymore."
Murdock bowed his head in appreciation as the bartender handed him a cup. "Maybe that's because you took her from him right in front of his eyes. That action is what people would call, a very stupid thing to do."
Peck snorted. "Right. As if you're one to talk. You and your sergeant- what was his name- BA Baracus or something, has a really fantastic relationship. Some which would call stupid of you to do. And it's not my fault. I was born a charmer. I could not help but charm people."
This time Murdock snorted after swallowing his drink. "Charm? That's a stupid excuse. And I should tell you that quite contrary to popular belief, BA could be like a cuddly bear sometimes okay. How'd you think I get attracted to him at the first place huh?"
This time Peck said nothing. He took a sip of his beer and asked for another cup when he realized there was not a single drop of beer in there anymore. He felt terrible after waking up. His head hurt but after taking an aspirin and a short nap, he immediately felt fine. Well, excluding the bruises of course. And there were another set of worries. The superior officers. Obviously they would kill him when they found he had gotten into a bar fight once more. Peck was counting down to the time when the MPs bust into the bar to handcuff him once more.
At that moment, the bar door opened to reveal a man with white hair, a huge, muscular man and another man with brown hair and brown eyes. Peck jolted thinking that the MPs really came. They had a certain aura around them that made everyone's eyes draw up towards them. Murdock took one glance at them and immediately cried out, "Hannibal, Ray, and Mudsucker, over here!" Peck paled considerably. Hannibal. Colonel Smith. Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith. COLONEL. He gulped. He was never good around superior officers, Murdock was an exception. And instincts told him that maybe it was not a good idea to make a Special Forces colonel to get pissed at him.
Hannibal turned around and caught sight of his ever so hyper pilot. He took note of the young man beside him that was a bit too pale. Probably a FNG. Hannibal walked to the table and sat down on the chair. The young kid immediately stood up and saluted him. "Sir!"
He was nervous that was for sure. Hannibal knew that it was either because of the sergeant now seated beside him, growling at whoever dared to stare at him or his reputation that scared him. Hannibal chuckled and waved. "Sit down, soldier. We're not on duty anymore." The kid looked hesitant at him before sitting down on his seat slowly. "So, Murdock, it seems you found yourself a private."
Maybe he kid was not a private. Privates don't usually wince when they're called privates. Maybe he was a bit higher. Corporal perhaps? However, the kid was a bit too young. Hell, Hannibal don't think he was even 18 yet. Murdock took one look at the kid and burst out in laughter. Immediately, the kid had annoyance all over his face and gave the pilot a warning glare, as if daring him to laugh once more. Murdock caught the look, coughed and tried to control his laughter. "Sorry but I couldn't help it. Hannibal, BA, Ray, meet Templeton Peck. Peck, meet Colonel John Smith, Sergeant BA Baracus and Lieutenant Ray Brenner." Peck forced a smile on his face. "I know. Your reputation precedes you, sir." Hannibal forced a smile on his face too and nodded. The kid's too narrow-minded. No backbone. Maybe he really is a FNG that hates to be belittled. "Hannibal, Peck isn't a private, he's a lieutenant."
The reaction was instantaneous. Hannibal coughed over the smoke of his cigar, BA growled at Peck with disbelief while Ray had his jaws hanging. Hannibal was the first to recover. "Well, aren't you a bit too young?" Peck raised his eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure my file reads that I'm 24, sir. I'm old enough." Hannibal could not believe him. The boy looked way more younger than 24.
"So, what's your relationship with Murdock?" Peck turned to look at Murdock and shrugged. "I don't know, sir. We're good friends I guess." Murdock faked a hurt expression and placed his hand on his chest. "You don't know? You don't know? I made it very clear the last time we met, we're best friends!" Peck immediately grinned and apologized with a shrug.
Okay, maybe I was wrong. Everyone knew that those who made friends with Murdock had to be able to tune into his channel, the fun and crazy channel, no way would a sticker for rules be able to handle that. To be Murdock's best friend, the kid really had to be something, though he really did not seem like it. However, maybe that was the reason why the kid had bruises on his face. Another bar fight. And if the scars had yet to healed, it means that it had recently happened, which lead Hannibal to belief that MPs would be bursting through the door. Maybe that was the reason why Peck looked so nervous.
They kept silent. No one around their table spoke. After a minute, Murdock had quite enough of the awkward silence and decided to blabber about some story, making Ray laugh while clutching his stomach and making BA growl. Hannibal stared at Peck who despite the initial nervousness, looked at ease around Murdock. He kept an air of nonchalance around him as he kept a lazy smile plastered on his face. His head was on his hand as he kept a firm gaze on Murdock as he told his story. Murdock glanced at Peck a few times as he told his ever-so-ridiculous story and Peck usually replied with a smile or a nod. Murdock immediately brightened up and continued his story with the same old gleam in his eyes.
In the middle of Murdock's story telling, a man around the mid-thirties ran to Peck and whispered something into his ear. Immediately, Peck straightened up and threw a glance at the door. He stood up and Murdock stopped his story short as he looked at Peck. The younger one smiled as he patted Murdock in the back. "Carry on." He said to Murdock. Then he turned to BA, Ray and Hannibal. "I'm sorry but I have to leave first." He turned back to Murdock. "I'll see you soon, Murdock. Maybe in a month time or more, depending on how much the MP hate me. Which is a lot. But I'll try my best to send you your week worth of comic books kay?" Murdock smiled at the words 'comic book' and nodded. The lieutenant nodded his head and said goodbye and left.
The team kept looking at the younger man as he left through the back door. Five minutes after that, true enough the door was smacked wide open as MPs burst into the room. They growled, as there was no sight of the young lieutenant in the room. One of them walked over to their table. "Captain Murdock. Do you know where Lieutenant Peck is?" Murdock shook his head with a grin. The MP looked as if he did not belief the captain for a second but decided to not pursue with the questions once he caught sight of BA beside Hannibal. The MP went out through the back door, the others following him.
"Mind telling me what happened to the lieutenant, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.
Murdock shrugged. "Some drunken man decided to beat the hell out of Peck because he thinks Peck took his girlfriend. Happens all the time. This time's like the 7th time Peck got sent to the brig ever since I met him." Immediately Murdock grinned. "Hannibal, can we transfer Peck into our team? Pretty please with a cherry on top and a dancing monkey singing 'bananas'!"
Hannibal shrugged. The kid looked like he has potential but he may be wrong. Besides, Murdock really wanted him and Murdock doesn't easily want people if they don't reach the expectation Hannibal had. "I'll check into his file."
John "Hannibal" Smith stared at the files in front of him. Well stacks of files most likely. He let out a sigh. It must be Decker's doing then. The prude had been forcing him to assign a lieutenant to his team. It was true that Hannibal was somehow missing one after their last one stepped on a land mine but he just didn't have the time to search for a potential one, to be his own XO. Hannibal knew he was picky but it was for the best.
He knew he had been pushing it away for the past few weeks but he was a free man, a patriotic man who fights for his country, not doing paperwork for his country. Though the plan sounded quite we: Cut down all the trees in the Vietnam jungle just to make paper for them. The VCs would then have no more hiding spots. No more trees after all. It actually sounded quite well… Maybe he should suggest this to the general.
Anyway… He really had been ignoring the stacks of paperwork on his table for the past few weeks. He could ignore them for a couple weeks more but mentally, he had a countdown on how long more Decker was going to take to slam his way into his office and demanded him to finish his work. And there was not much time left. Somewhere in this stack may be Murdock's friend's file. Hannibal flipped through the stacked and finally came into a rest at Peck's file. Ignoring the other files cluttered around his desk, he flipped open the file and started reading.
Hannibal was surprised at that kid. For one, the kid, despite wearing casual clothes, looks very formal and neat. His slacks and t-shirt had no creases or stains. His hair, a bit too long, was combed neatly. However, he had crime records as long as BA's or even longer. The kid was convicted of many petty crimes such as pick pocketing, getting into a bar fight or lock-picking. Somewhere between each minor crime may sandwich a more serious crime. For example, impersonating a superior officer, scamming people including the high brass, forging paperwork and IDs and there was a rumour about Peck running an illegal club for officers. Peck was a smart man, however, and made sure there were no clues left behind to point him for the crime. People vouched for him and never told on him. As such, Peck was not convicted of many crimes that the upper brass was suspicious of him doing. Hannibal knew if the kid was 'dumber' than he is now, the crime record list of Peck would certainly be way longer than a 4 paper list.
The kid, despite the ever-so-long list of crimes was very good. Good enough to be in the Special Forces and not die on the first mission. The kid's file said that he was one hell of a supply officer. He could get the best weapons in the nation without going over the budget through his own ways. Which also included that he usually does it through scamming or petty crimes and occasionally, poker games in a rather distasteful manner. The kid was a professional sniper, having an eagle eye towards the smallest and slightest movements. And on the bottom of the page, in a rather small handwriting, wrote: Lieutenant Peck certainly knows what he's doing. He can be loyal when he wants to. He would certainly be a good person to rely your life on outside in the fields.
Well, that explains it. Templeton Arthur Peck interested him. And those who interest the colonel Hannibal Smith AND the crazy captain HM Murdock certainly has the potential to join his team and NOT die on his first suicide mission. But first, Hannibal had to find a way to get the lieutenant out of the brig before he got court marshaled.
Murdock has been getting more and more nervous day by day. He was no longer the crazy, loud man but seemed more reserve and quiet. He'll crack a joke once in a while and give a plastic smile when someone seems worried. The whole reason why he was so worried was because his best friend was not there. 'Not there' does not mean missing for five days or so for a mission but more like missing for 2 weeks. He was way overdue. The mission was supposed to take only five days. Two weeks was 14 days. He was overdue for 9 whole days straight. The rest of the team had already returned back but not Peck. Peck was somewhere in the jungle without enough food, drinks or ammo. Murdock knew that Peck could already be dead. Should already be dead. However, a feeling deep down in his guts told him that Peck was alive. That he was moving, living, and hiding from the VCs, finding a way to get back to base. However, Peck's team did not bother. They did not even like him at the first place. To them it was more like good riddance. And as such, they did not bother to go back and save him. However, Peck was Murdock's best friend. He was desperate to save him but Morrison did not want to waste the A-team on a person that might as well be dead.
Seeing Murdock stone out on his bed, Hannibal could not help but sigh. Murdock was deeply affected by the absence of his best friend. The young lieutenant was a really good friend with the team already. Every time there was a free schedule, the group would meet up in the bar to have a drink or just joke around. Now that he thinks about it, it was a month since they met. Peck spent two weeks in the brig and was immediately sent out on a rare mission to scout a VC camp. Hannibal wanted to transfer Peck but Morrison had denied it. Well, he did not really 'denied' the idea, more like 'Wait. I'll talk to you later.' Later which meant two weeks and now Peck was missing. People said he was already dead. The whole team on the other hand knew Peck too well, understood his skills, and as such, was insisted that Peck was still alive. Stupid Morrison. Well, fuck Morrison's orders, they're going to save the kid anyway.
Hannibal glanced at BA and Ray who was cleaning their firearm again and again and again. The firearm could (if possible) be gleaming like a pearl. Hannibal knew they were worried. Heck, they should be worried. He closed his eyes. This stupid war was fucking everyone up. It was fucking him up. Fucking Murdock up. Fucking Ray and BA up. And most importantly, it was fucking the young man's mind up.
He stood up, and took out a cigar. "Gear up, guys. We're heading out tomorrow." He announced. Murdock glanced up at him with gloomy eyes. "What for?" he asked. Hannibal bit off the top and grinned. "Well, we're saving our dear friend of course."
The crazy gleam was back in Murdock's eye as he broke into a huge smile.
It was hot and humid and sweat dripped down from his forehead, stinging his eyes. It was too hot but there were little light as the trees blocked the sunrays from reaching him, providing him some shade. His clothes were sticking to him, as they were wet from sweat. He felt really uncomfortable. However, he kept moving, not bothering to adjust his clothes but lifting a finger to wipe the sweat off once in a while. Don't think about anything, Temp. Think just about escaping from here alive. Or that was what he initially thought.
A few hours later and Peck was feeling a teeny bit too dehydrated. So far, he had yet to come into contact with any VCs but he still kept on guard. He was hot, tired and was getting a bit too dizzy for his liking. He needed a rest. But where? VCs was around the whole jungle, firearms in hand in case they caught sight of their enemies. He was outnumbered, dehydrated and had too little ammos on him. Something told him that the chances of him getting out of the jungle alive were too low for his liking. He took a deep breath to calm his mind. No need to get frustrated and negative. His eyes scanned the area around him one more time, checking the ground or any other places for booby traps. Noting that there were no booby traps or VCs around, he started moving once more, pushing his dizziness and tiredness to the back of his brain, concentrating on the mission ahead.
It was dark. Well, nearly dark, Somehow, from between the leaves, Peck could still see the orange sky. Sunset then. It was close to night. And that was when Peck decided that he needed to rest. His legs could barely move and his mind was going numb. The VCs might be taking this time to change shifts. A perfect time to rest. Now if he could only find a safe spot to do so. He moved ever- so- quietly around the bush, stepping across any dried leaves or twigs in his path.
His side hurts where he got shot or whatever. He did not want to know what happened to it. So he decided to patch it off hoping it would only be a small graze of a bullet. However the blood flowing out of it just a few hours ago told him a totally different story. He knew it would only be a few hours until his adrenaline ran out and he would be giving up to the pain. Luckily, he managed to bite onto his tongue when he accidentally tripped over a root. He bit hard onto his tongue to keep the cry of pain in his throat. However, when he fell, he had made a loud "Thud". He stayed silent and unmoving for a while, waiting for any VCs that heard him and decided to check him out. Nobody came. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, he laid gently on his back, trying to make as little noise as possible. He was so tired. Everything was so fuzzy. He needed sleep.
When he finally felt comfortable on his back, he let his mind drift to how everything took from a turn of bad to worst. He remembered himself being in Colonel Backwalker's team. They were to scope around a VC camp but the next thing they knew, they were ambushed. Everyone was firing their weapons around and Peck knew did not know who hit who. Then they ran for cover, retreating. A helicopter came to get them away. He was hiding behind a tall tree when he heard the rotors of the helicopter. He was too far to reach the helicopter in time and he knew, for certain that the team would not wait for him. They wanted him banished, gone. However, he ran, his hopes up that the helicopter would wait for him. He was getting so close. Only a few metres before he reached the clearing. Oh so close that he was so happy to hear that the helicopter was still there. He burst through the jungle and out. He raced forward to the helicopter. However, he felt his heart drop when the helicopter lifted off the ground. What was worst was that he could see so clearly the colonel calling the pilot to hurry up.
Letting out another sigh, he managed to place his sniper into an easy-to-grab-in-emergency position and slid close his eyes. Soon, there were soft and gentle breathing that could be heard.
It was the sound of footsteps and the shuffle of leaves that woke him. It was soft and surely could not be heard the untrained but Peck was surely not untrained, even for a mere lieutenant. His eyes immediately snapped open and he instinctively brought his sniper rifle up to the location of the sound. His closed his finger around the trigger, going to pull back…
"Peck!" The voice cried out in a southern drawl. Wait… Peck knew that voice. He raised his head to meet Murdock's eyes. "Murdock!" he cried out, relieved. The older man immediately hugged the younger man. "Hannibal! BA! Ray!" A minute later, the three soldier appeared guns in hand, grins in place.
"Wow, kid. Never expected you to be still alive," the colonel said. Peck scowled. "Har har, Colonel." His voice dripped with sarcasm. BA held onto Peck's arm and pulled him to a stand. Ray held on to the younger man as the lieutenant struggled on his legs. When he felt strong enough, he pushed the other lieutenant away from him. Immediately Peck felt his vision diminishing and he felt so numb. Uh oh… Adrenaline was running out. He felt his eyes rolled back and felt his energy left him. Shit… Too late. He was out like a light before he even crumpled onto the ground.
Damn it… Just my luck…
Peck woke up lying in bed in the world of white. White walls, white cloth, white blanket, white ceiling. Even his skin looks white. And there was only one place in the whole wide world that Peck knew that everything was white - the hospital. However that did not surprise Peck. He was in the hospital way more times that necessary. The antiseptic smell of the place was familiar and instantly recognizable. The shocking whiteness of the place when you first open your eyes had hurt his eyes so many times, it doesn't hurt anymore. The more important thing was how he got in here. When he was in the streets, it was either due to broken bones or something menial. But now, he was in the middle of Vietnam in the middle of a stupid war. When he turns up in the hospital, it was not a good sign. Did he got bombed? Did he get shot? Did he get whacked in the side or any part of him with a bamboo stick? Uhh… His head hurts when he thinks too much…
Peck groaned. Apparently he groaned loud enough to attract Murdock's attention since the crazy pilot had rushed into the room. "Peck!" the captain cried, "You woke up!" Apparently his cries were also loud enough to attract the nurse as the blond nurse enters the room. Ooohh… She was hot. That was the last thing Peck noticed and everything went black once more.
It took a week for Peck to finally get released from the hospital. By the time the young lieutenant was fit enough to start exercising, Hannibal had already transferred the young lieutenant to his team.
The end