Chapter 2:

B.A. seeks out the colonel. Two months ago, he couldn't have cared less about the fate of the blond conman, but after the events of the battle near Saigon* he felt like it was his duty to look out after his 'little' brother. He knows he is younger than Face, but what he doesn't have in years, he makes up in pure muscle. He'd been in the enlisted mess tent when he heard how the then sergeant had single handedly mounted a rescue mission. Face had used his abilities to convince a chopper crew to fly in medical personnel into an insane battle zone and roused some of the troops to gear up and chopper in as well. B.A. had heard afterwards how Face had flung himself from the chopper into a virtual hail storm of bullets to protect a young medic without any regard for himself. Much like how he ended up with shrapnel in his leg this time.

"How's he doin' Hannibal?"
The colonel sighs and turns to B.A. "He's not doing too hot, Sergeant." Together they kneel besides the young lieutenant. His handsome face is clammy and deathly pale underneath the greasepaint. Face keeps squirming, unconsciously trying to get away from the pain in his leg.
"The fool know?"
Hannibal shakes his head in denial, thinking about the pilot's change in character since returning to Vietnam. "He knows we have wounded."
"He ain't gonna be happy you didn't tell 'm."
The colonel's blue eyes flash momentarily. "He's going to have to live with that."

Murdock pushes his shocked young copilot along the path beaten by the hasty retreat of Snowy and Tennessee. Feeling like they have put enough distance between themselves and the chopper, the captain stops and whistles a bird call. He listens intently, quickly silencing the question he sees forming on the FNG's lips. Not too far ahead another bird calls out. Murdock repeats his call and he receives an immediate reply to his right. A smile forms on his face, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it.
"I don't think peacocks are native in these parts, Kowalski." He calls out softly into the brush. A snicker and some rustling can be heard before Snowy comes into view. He's rubbed himself with mud to blend in better. The snowy white marks on his hands and face would stand out like a beacon in the jungle. Tennessee comes into view as well. Murdock beckons his men closer and unrolls the map.
"We are here." He points to the map. "And this is the direction we need to travel to get to the team. Owens, you take point, you have the most experience on the ground." Tennessee nods. "Kowalski, you stay close to Baby here. I will pick up the rear." Baby scrunches his face up at the sudden nickname. For someone that had been practically begging them for a call sign, he sure wasn't very happy with the one he just earned. Captain Murdock looks each of his men in the eye. "This ain't gonna be a cake walk. This is high speed jungle hiking and it will be tough." He looks meaningfully at the copilot. "We suck it up and keep going!" Snowy and Tennessee nod and salute, taking their positions, Baby following close behind with a murderous look on his face. Murdock raises an eyebrow at the display. 'That one's gonna to be trouble.'

B.A. looks to the side at the tight and guilty look upon Sergeant Young's face. The red headed engineer would have been killed if it wasn't for Face's quick reflexes. B.A. rubs his face wearily and looks down at the suffering lieutenant.
One hour ago:
The men had been exhausted after their disastrous mission near Khe Sanh last night. After nailing a Cong General everything went south and they ended up with empty hands, running for their lives. On their way, back to the LZ, the redhead had been on point with Face following close behind. There had been little warning. There had been a shout from Face to hit the dirt, before an earsplitting bang ripped through the jungle. On his way to down, B.A. saw Face tackling Young to the ground as the bouncing Betty went off, sending shrapnel and ball bearings in every direction.
Face had used the delay to try and save the sergeant. Dave Young had accidentally tripped a wire and set of the charge that sent up the piece of crap. He remembers the scream of pain that had ripped from his friend's throat when the blazing hot shrapnel lacerated his leg.

'When did I start to think 'bout you as a friend…?'

They'd carefully made their way to the duo, not knowing if there were any other mines around. Face was lying on top of Young, his eyes clenched shut and trying to contain his screams through gritted teeth. His hands were wrapped tightly around the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Luckily, most of the blast had missed them and their gear had protected their backs. Together they had moved the wounded lieutenant and their medic, Olsen had started on working on the leg right away. Ray and Hannibal had scouted their immediate vicinity for any more, nasty surprises while B.A. kept guard over the shaky sergeant and his wounded friend.

B.A had half expected him to whine like he always does, but Face surprisingly refused any morphine. Sgt. Olsen had looked like he wanted to protest the choice, but was interrupted by Hannibal.
"I have contacted Covey, but they can't dispatch to this site. Too much enemy movement. We have no choice but to move to our designated LZ." The medic nodded grimly and started to work on wrapping the leg tightly. Face gasped in pain and tried to push away the medic's hands. Hannibal put his hand on the younger man's shoulder and spoke softly to him. B.A. couldn't make out what was being said, but when he saw the lieutenant swallow and nod, he knew a decision had been made. Face closed his eyes in resignation, when Olsen grabbed the vial of morphine and a syringe. After dividing Face's gear amongst each other, Ray took up point and Hannibal took the rear, while B.A. and Young hoisted Face onto his legs and agonizingly slowly started to move along the path. Each step brought forth a strangled gasp from the lieutenant. It grated on B.A.'s nerves and he was almost ready to just carry the man to their destination, but a direct order from Hannibal stayed his decision.
"Better save your strength B.A." The colonel glanced at the sweaty face of his lieutenant.
The big black sergeant grumbled but eventually replied: "Yes sir."

Face almost made it back to the LZ before his legs gave out. He was panting harshly and tried to keep his grunts of pain to a minimum, his jaw set. B.A. however would not be fooled, because he could feel the blond's muscles tense up at every step he took. Eventually, he felt Face's grip slacken, his head lolling against his shoulder. B.A. slowly lowered the trembling lieutenant to the jungle floor.

*Vivid in Black and White

Story notes and research:
A typical A-team like Hannibal's would have consisted of 6-8 members with various specialties like explosives and ammunition, engineering, medical etc. Now bear with me, because I'm not military. (This is the part where people who are, can laugh at my attempts to make this work) I firmly believe the writers of the show just chose a few ranks to make it look interesting. Having a Lt. Colonel in a special ops group is a bit unrealistic as they usually consist of Sergeants and Lieutenants. We are just going to have to assume that Hannibal's team was unique in every way. I chose to make it a team with 6 members. Hannibal, Ray, Face, BA, Young and Olsen.

Murdock is an oddball too. Not only because of his rank, but his status as the team's pilot as well. Normally a chopper would be 'owned', fueled and maintained by a ground crew. A pilot would look upon a roster to see which bird was 'his' for the duration of the mission. Since Hannibal's team is unique, I made Murdock's unique too. The units are separated as they belong to different divisions, but work closely together for missions by the team. So, Murdock flies for the A-team, but dustoff's for the 1st Aviation Brigade as well.