Once they made their exit through the back door, they realized why Hannibal had picked this house; the entire backyard was fenced in so nobody on the outside would be able to see them coming or going until they got to the gate and up into the alley behind the property. From there they made a beeline down the alley and wound up taking several more twists and turns before they were, as far as Hannibal was concerned, far enough away from the MPs.

"You know I've been thinking," Face said, "What do you suppose the odds are that that bomb was specifically made and used to draw us out? Think about it, the daycare center didn't explode, all the windows blew out so nobody asphyxiated on the smoke, the exits weren't blocked…it all seems a little too perfect to be random."

"And everybody got out fine," Hannibal added, "And now that we got all the kids dropped off at their homes, we can give this some more thought."

"You can think about it," Jean said as she hopped over to a bench and sat down to take off her shoe, "My feet are killing me."

"Okay, whoever did plant that bomb, it clearly was not Decker, or Fulbright, or any of the MPs, they were all well within the vicinity but if any of them had intentionally been trying to smoke us out, they would've caught us," Hannibal said.

"So who does that leave?" Murdock asked.

"Only every idiot you ever honked off in this zip code," Jean answered as she took off her other shoe and rubbed her foot, "Shouldn't be more than…a couple hundred of those, right?"

"Try a couple thousand," Face replied, "But who could've put it together? Who could possibly have known?"

"You're kidding, right?" Jean asked, "The kids at that daycare center aren't stupid, they know who B.A. is, they know he's a member of the A-Team, all it would take would be one person within earshot of one of them talking, and then this."

"But why?" Face asked, "Anybody who wanted to attack us would've done it back at the center when we all came running."

"Maybe that's the guy Jean was chasing," Hannibal thought.

"Or maybe they wanted to follow us and see where we went," Murdock added.

"The police have the guy that set the bomb," Jean said, "We're not going to be able to find out what his role was in this."

There was a brief silence among them until Hannibal got a sickeningly familiar smirk on his face and responded, "Oh yes we are, we'll just have to do it right."

"Uh oh," Jean said.

"Aw man," B.A. groaned, "Hannibal's on the jazz again."

"And somehow I get the feeling we're sticking our heads into the lion's mouth on this one," Face added.


"I don't like this," Face said as he paced around by the van.

It was dark that night, and he and the others had parked the van a block and a half from the police station where Hannibal had gone in to find out what became of the man arrested for bombing the daycare center.

"Something could go wrong, they're going to know he's not one of the regular cops," Face said.

"Face, if you don't shut up," Jean started to warn him.

Face ignored her, "I know, I know, you're gonna put me to sleep for a week."

"Wrong, he is," Jean replied as she pointed to B.A.

That got Face's attention. He looked at B.A. and could tell by the look on the Sergeant's face that he was seriously considering it. Well, it was hard to argue with that logic.

Murdock stood separate from the rest of them, and he was trying to listen to the conversation coming through the transistor for the small microphone that had been concealed on Hannibal's police uniform when he went in. If anything should go wrong, they were going to know it firsthand and they were going to move in and get him out of there.

He could hear Hannibal talking but it sounded like the Colonel was in another room entirely than the microphone was. It was garbled and muffled and he heard more footsteps than words, he couldn't make out anything that was being said but at least he could tell that Hannibal wasn't in distress, that was all that really mattered. As soon as Hannibal found out what he wanted to know, he'd be out here and fill the rest of them in on it.

After a few minutes he got the others' attention and told them, "It's gotten quiet now, I think he's on his way out."

"Did you hear anything, Murdock?" Face asked.

The pilot just shook his head. They looked and saw someone come out of the police station, someone in police uniform, and that somebody was heading towards them and also doing well not to let his face be seen in the street lamps. Jean pulled a gun and told the approaching figure, "That's close enough, stay right where you are."

"Jean!" Face couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Hannibal pulled up his uniform hat and looked genuinely amused, "Nice work, Jean, very observant."

"What?" Face asked.

"You know, Face," Hannibal said as he undid the cuffs on his shirt, which had been rolled under to compensate for being longer than would've fit him, "It wouldn't hurt you to be a little more alert on these things. Now just suppose it hadn't been me coming here right now? Do you realize the fine mess you'd all be in right about now?"

"That's why he always falls for Decker's decoys," Jean said. And after she said that, she and Murdock looked to each other and seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Well what did you find out?" Face asked.

Hannibal just shook his head ominously as piece by piece he shed his cop uniform. "You'll never believe this one."

"What is it?" Murdock asked.

Hannibal looked at them, and turned to look at B.A., and looked like he didn't even know where to start. He let out a long, exasperated huff, and crouched down like a mime pretending to sit down a few inches above the curb.

"The guy that told him where to set the bomb…" he shook his head again, "A father, of one of the kids that was at the daycare center."

"What!?" B.A. sounded like he couldn't believe it.

"He's divorced, his wife got custody, he apparently figured when everybody came running, in the confusion he'd be able to grab his kid and take off, he clearly hadn't counted on B.A. herding all the kids out and us coming immediately after," Hannibal said, "That's why the whole center didn't blow up."

"Still a damn stupid move," Murdock said, "When the windows blew out, if his kid had been anywhere near them…"

"Apparently a chance he was willing to take," Hannibal replied, "He might've been able to double back and kidnap the boy when he got home, except he hadn't counted on us running the kids all over the neighborhood, and his son getting a 30-person escort home this afternoon."

"Well that solves one problem," Jean said, "But it still takes us back to our own problem, and we've got more than one." The last part she only said loud enough for she and Murdock to hear, and the Captain nodded silently in agreement.


Jean was asleep in bed and felt the warm summer air blowing against her skin, and it hit her that they'd gone to sleep with the air conditioner running. She opened her eyes and saw that it was light out, probably 5 in the morning or shortly after, and for whatever reason, she and Murdock had fallen asleep in the downstairs bedroom of her house that was typically reserved for B.A. when they stayed for the night. The window was open and she saw the reason why was because Murdock had used it as his escape route and was walking off towards the street. Jean tossed the sheet back, threw her shoes on and jumped out the window and took off after him.

"Murdock!" she called to him as she caught up to him, "Where're you going?"

Murdock didn't stop walking or even slow down when he realized she was following him, he just kept on and said without even bothering to turn around and look at her, "I've got something to take care of."

"What?" Jean asked.

Murdock shook his head and told her, "Ain't your problem, Saint, go back to the house."

"The hell I will, what's going on?" she asked him.

Now Murdock stopped, and Jean about walked into him. He turned to face her and explained, "I've got something to do and I don't need you getting dragged into it. You don't need to be in anymore trouble because of me than you already are."

"Murdock, what are you planning on doing?" Jean asked him.

One look at the pilot said plainly that Murdock was not his usual self this morning, any of them. Something was bothering him and that was noticeable just by the look on his face.

"If Hannibal thinks I'm holding out on him about stuff I don't even know about," he explained, "Then I think I might just have to go over his head on this."

"What've you got planned?" she asked him.

He didn't answer, instead he told her, "Jean, right now you have a chance to turn around, go back and not get involved in this, I'd suggest you take it." And that said, he turned around and started walking again.

Suddenly he felt his arm in a death grip and Jean yanked him back and told him, "Forget it, I'm going with you."

"Jean…"

"Murdock," she forced him to look at her and he could see the determination dead set in her eyes as she said to him, "Don't you know that if we're picking sides in this now, you're getting full custody of me?"

It was obvious from the look on her face that she wasn't going to go peacefully or quietly, or even at all. So Murdock gave in and told her, "Alright, let's go."

"Go where?" she asked as they started walking.

"You'll see when we get there," Murdock told her, "I've got a plan."


"I'm getting tired of seeing you people," Decker said.

Jean half ignored his comments as she adjusted her sprawled position on the hood of the MP car and looked up to the sky through a pair of tinted sunglasses like she was a tanner on the beach soaking up the rays, and replied, "I'd be inclined to say I bet you say that to all your friends, except I happen to know you don't have any friends."

Murdock stood beside the car, and beside Decker, and told the Colonel, "We need to find out something about this guy Stockwell. He's in the hospital and he ain't talking, so we need to find somebody that came back to the country with him on that DC-9."

"And you expect me to know that?" Decker asked.

"Come on, Roddy," Jean said, "What about that great source you had that told you the plane was coming in? Can't they find something out?" she sat up on the hood of the sedan and pointed out, "Stockwell fled this country with 100 men, he came back with at least 30. If they're even the same ones or not we don't know, but somebody somewhere has to have an idea who they are."

"Even if you did find them, you think they'd tell you anything?" he asked.

"Oh, I have my ways, believe me," Murdock assured the colonel.

"You've never seen Murdock lose his temper with the scum of the earth," Jean added, "Completely barbaric, but darn entertaining."

Decker shook his head and grumbled something under his breath, and it looked to the others like he was arguing with himself about something. Then he turned back to Murdock and asked him, "And where is Smith in all of this?"

"Who says he's involved in this?" Jean asked.

That took Decker by minor surprise, he looked back to Murdock and commented, "I guess Smith was right after all. He said he suspected you were holding out on him, Murdock."

"If you're trying to start something, don't waste your breath," Jean warned Decker, "Everybody knows you're full of hot air, Roddy. You'd do anything to try turning them on one another, make them easier to catch, well it ain't gonna work."

Decker shrugged dismissively and responded, "If that's what you need to believe, that's your business." He glanced back to Murdock and added with emphasis, "Smith mentioned you might know this Stockwell and were lying to him for all these years; pity he used to consider you the most loyal man on the Team."

Murdock's eyes sharpened and his lips parted just enough to show his teeth gritting together. Jean jumped off the hood of the car and came up beside Murdock and told Decker, "Don't press your luck, Roddy, if he doesn't gut you like a fish to shut you up, I will."

Decker opened his mouth and started to say something but quickly forgot whatever it was when he happened to glance down and saw that Jean had pulled out a Ka-Bar and had it pressed/concealed against her thigh, but the blade was aimed right for him, all it would take would be one quick move. He knew she didn't have the training, but anymore what the hell did that prove? For all Decker could tell, Murdock didn't know she had it, instead the pilot's focus was still on him.

Jean casually slipped the knife down the waistband of her jeans and made it disappear somewhere under the wide cover of her T-shirt, and said, "The crew, Decker. We want the names, their locations, everything you can find on them."

Feeling that he was in a no-win situation, least of all as long as he was within arm's length of these people, Decker grunted and replied, "I'll see what I can find." The truth of the matter was that he was equally as curious to get to the root of everything, but he wasn't about to let them know that.

Jean took off her sunglasses and said to him, "You know what your problem is, Roddy? You're too serious, you need to learn to lighten up and have some fun, anything would be an improvement over the way you are now."

Jean took a step towards Decker and before he'd even realized it, he subconsciously stepped back and away from her. These days it was impossible to tell which of these two was the truly crazy one and which one was faking it and which one was really out of their mind, although right now Jean was looking very good for it.

When the discussion was over, Murdock and Jean headed back to the car they'd come in, and as they looked back to Decker getting in the MP car, Jean leaned over to Murdock and commented, "He's certainly an excitable one, isn't he?"

"I just hope we can trust him," Murdock said.

"Probably as far as we can throw him," she told him, "Or rather as far as B.A. could throw him." She turned to Murdock and asked, "What would you say he is, about 170 pounds maybe? B.A.'s 230, he could clear that easy but then it's just a matter of how far would he actually get?" She noticed Murdock wasn't looking to her, rather looking ahead, except it didn't look like he was actually seeing anything, and she asked him, "What's wrong, Murdock?"

The Captain just shook his head as they got in the car and he remarked, "I've got a bad feeling about this, Jean."

"Decker has that effect on everybody," Jean said, "He's the only guy I know that can give someone indigestion, heartburn, nausea, and stomach cramps all during the same visit."

"Not that," Murdock told her, "Stockwell…" he turned to her and said, "I wonder if there's a chance he could be faking it."

"What, the concussion he got?" she asked.

Murdock shook his head, "No, that was real enough, but he could be faking how bad it is."

"Face gave him a hotfoot and he didn't respond, you think that's faking it?" she asked.

"For somebody in the CIA?" Murdock asked, "Child's play, he could probably play comatose very easily."

Jean took a minute to let his words sink in, and when they hit her she felt even more paranoid than she already had, and asked him, "So how do we find out if he is or not?"

"Ain't gonna be easy," Murdock replied as he put the key in the ignition and started the engine.


"Murdock, are you out of your mind?" Face asked, "Do you know what you're saying?"

"Yes I do, Face," the pilot calmly responded nonchalantly.

Face was livid and just about to get airborne of his own volition as he pointed out, "To do what you're suggesting, if you're wrong then we might be killing a man."

From Jean's position seated on the hood of Face's 'Vette she offered her own two cents, which was made up of, "He's not a man, I don't think he's even human."

Face rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically, "Thank you, Jean."

"Face," Murdock replied, "Stockwell wants us to think he's completely incapacitated and incapable of serving as a threat to us. However, even he isn't willing to die in order to prove a point."

"You're talking about him like you know him," Face said.

"I know his kind," Murdock told him, "I know how they think."

"So…how do we prove he's faking?" Face asked.

"Put him in a situation involving real and actual danger to his person," Jean answered, "Even he's got self preservation in him somewhere. If he's aware of his surroundings and thinks his life is in jeopardy, he'll do something about it."

"And if he doesn't?" Face asked.

Jean shrugged and replied, "No human loss there."

Face felt like he'd fallen through the looking glass and was zipping through 'The Twilight Zone' at warp speed. He couldn't believe they were actually discussing this, and yet…

"Why me?" he asked, "Why are you guys telling me this?"

"Because three heads are better than two," Murdock explained.

"Why three?" Face asked, feeling a sensation of pins and needles in the back of his neck, "Why not five?"

"There's a problem with that," Jean told him, "So far Hannibal is not in the loop on this, if he is, that's going to be entirely up to you, Face."

It was official, Face did not like where this was going. "I don't get it."

"There seems to be a lot of that going around," Jean scooted off the hood and went over to the two men and said, "Hannibal thinks Murdock's lying about knowing Stockwell, so right now there are trust issues with our oh so great and fearless leader. Now, none of us likes that, but what can we do? If Hannibal thinks Murdock's hiding something, exactly what is it going to take to convince him otherwise? And for that matter, do we even have that kind of time to try and convince him?"

Murdock merely nodded in agreement and said to Face, "Something's going on and we need to find out what it is and as soon as possible."

Face looked from one to the other and repeated, and shook his head and told Murdock, "I don't know."

"Face," Jean said, "This guy damn near got Murdock killed, he knows Murdock, he wants him for something and he's got a city crawling full of his yes-men, we gotta find out what it's all about and stop it."

"I agree, but I think Hannibal needs to be in on it for that," he told them.

"Faceman," Murdock struggled to find the right words but couldn't find them and shook his head in despair and merely said, "I just don't think it's an option right now."

Face felt lost. In all the years he'd known Murdock, he'd never seen this side of the pilot; Murdock was generally the second-in-command to come up with a plan whenever Hannibal was captured, but this was undermining Hannibal entirely and leaving him out of the plan altogether, something Murdock had never done before. So it must've spoken volumes about how rattled this whole mess with Stockwell had the Captain, but Face wasn't sure what the answer was.

It hadn't escaped Face and B.A.'s attention that Hannibal and Murdock had started having more serious disagreements than usual, especially the night Jean was attacked at the movie studio. Prior to her calling, they'd both been able to hear some heated words between the Colonel and the Captain, but hadn't been able to make out what they were, then Murdock had stormed off that night, hadn't come back until the next day, without so much as an explanation. It didn't make sense.

And now, what to do? Here he was between the rock and the hard place, being told to pick a side essentially, which side? On one hand, if he went along with them now, he could bring Hannibal into it when and if he felt a need to. Murdock might be angry about that, but Face didn't think it could be anything severe enough to damage their friendship, they'd known each other too long for that to happen now.

"Alright," he said in defeat, "Count me in, I guess."

"Good!" Murdock exclaimed, "I was hoping you'd say that, Face."

"Yeah but Murdock, what's the plan?" Face wanted to know.

"We haven't quite gotten that ironed out yet," Jean confessed, "Right now we're still tossing some ideas around."

A thought hit the Lieutenant and he commented, "It's too bad we couldn't do to Stockwell what we did to Colonel Briggs. It might not put him in imminent danger but it'd sure be fun."

"The only problem is knowing Stockwell," Jean said, "If we tried anything like that, he'd probably just think he was having an acid trip flashback."

"Huh?" Face turned to her.

Jean just shrugged and replied, "Ask Murdock, he's the only one here who actually knows the Spooks and how they work."

Instead though, Murdock just said, "It's getting late, we better get back to the house or Hannibal's going to wonder where we are."

Face checked his own watch and saw Murdock was right, and couldn't resist commenting, "That's for sure, he might like playing fast and loose with the jerks we go up against, but he expects a tighter ship out of his own men, expects men who actually do what he tells them, who actually listen to his orders and who ordinarily don't make a habit of attracting attention without him knowing about it."

"So what do we look like, Starsky and Hutch?" Jean asked, and before Face had a chance to respond she added, "Don't you dare answer that if you know what's good for you."

Face got in his car and Murdock and Jean went back to her car and they got in.

"You know, Murdock," Jean turned to him, "I just thought of something funny."

"What's that?" Murdock asked as he reached around to get his seatbelt on.

"What kind of car was Starsky's tomato? A red car with a white stripe on it…and what kind of car does Face drive? A white car with a red stripe on it, a fraternal twin," she said.

Something in what she said registered with Murdock, he looked to her and said lowly, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

It seemed she was, and in a dry tone she asked him, "Who do we trust?", in a tone that suggested she already knew the answer.

Finishing the second half of the riddle, Murdock answered, "Me and thee." He turned to the front and looked at the road ahead and nodded grimly as he acknowledged, "I have doubt as to if we can trust Face on this."

"You're worried he's going to tell Hannibal?" Jean asked.

"Not so much as I am what Hannibal's going to do if he finds out," Murdock explained, "I don't think he realizes the trust issues that currently exist between us, if he finds out about this, the Colonel might just be inclined to see it as a one-way thing only."

Jean looked at him and felt she could see past that and into what the problem really was. "Murdock…you scared of this guy Stockwell?"

He didn't look at her, but after a few seconds she noticed his head drop down slightly, like he was giving half a nod, and he finally admitted, "Yeah, I think I am, a little." He turned to her and asked, "And you?"

Bluntly, Jean responded, "I don't have the brains to be scared, only mean, especially towards this guy."

Murdock nodded slowly before turning his attention back to the view through the windshield, but he reached over and squeezed her hand in his lightly and told her, "It's alright, Jean, it's alright." He turned the engine over and hit the accelerator and they took off for home.

During the ride back, however, Murdock noticed that Jean was gazing at everything on the right side of the street but she didn't seem to actually be looking at any of it.

"You alright, Saint?" he asked.

Jean continued to watch the scenery passing them by but she asked him, "Does paranoia come with the insanity territory, or is that a separate category altogether?"

He glanced over to her and asked, "What do you mean?"

"How do you live with a target on your head?" Jean asked, "There're about 30 men out there somewhere in this concrete jungle who work for Stockwell and they know what's going on. Where are they? Is he one? Is he? Is there one in that alley between those two buildings? Is there one looking out any one of the million windows on this block? Or on the roof of any of these buildings? Where are they? Where did they all go once the plane touched down? Don't they wonder what happened to their boss? Or are they planning an attack to get him back?"

"And they saw you when you and Decker went out to investigate, didn't they?" Murdock asked.

"It's definitely possible, I know it's not impossible that they'd just randomly open fire on complete strangers with no provocation whatsoever, but somehow it doesn't seem likely to me," Jean said, "And if any of them are out there now, and they recognize us…"

Murdock turned his attention back to the road that they were zooming along at close to 50 mph and told her, "Don't think about it."

"How can I not?" she asked as she turned towards him.

"Because instead we've got to figure out what we're going to do with Stockwell," Murdock told her, "Now what's the worst thing we could possibly do to him without actually killing him?"

Jean looked to him and seemed unresponsive for a few seconds before saying by way of an answer, "Letting him live after we're done with him."

Murdock glimpsed at her as if he was in disbelief of what she said, but instead he responded himself, "Have to be something good."

"Have to be pretty damn good," Jean added. She put her feet up on the dashboard and folded her arms behind her head and commented, "Incidentally, Murdock, would you happen to know where we could get our hands on a couple hundred gallons of hot tar and a few thousand feathers?"


"We could always drug him," Face suggested that night as the three of them sat in Murdock's bedroom conferring among themselves.

"Like you do B.A. and knock him out?" Jean asked and shook her head, "We don't need that, especially if he is already out cold."

"Not like that, what about sodium amytal?" Face asked and tried appealing to Murdock, "Can a person under the influence of truth serum pretend to be comatose?"

"That stuff doesn't always work though," Murdock replied, "Too bad because it would be a great idea."

"We could always kidnap him," Jean said.

"Oh sure," Face rolled his eyes, "And do what with him? How would we get him out of the hospital?"

"Hey if the three of us could carry B.A. onto a plane with him being out cold and completely dead weight near the 300 pound range, I think we can get that Spook out of the hospital," Jean told him, "Weren't you the one always dressing up like a doctor to get Murdock out of the V.A.?"

"Yeah, so what?" Face asked.

"Alright, then the three of us just waltz into the hospital dressed like doctors, and we say we are transferring Stockwell to another hospital…"

"And we just wheel him out to what exactly?" Face asked.

"Faceman, if you could scam a pink Cadillac in the jungles of 'Nam," Murdock said, "Why can't you scam an ambulance?"

"Or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof?" Jean added.

"But what would we do with him?" Face wanted to know, "I mean where would we even take him?"

Jean shrugged and suggested, "I don't know, off the top of my head, a rented storage space or an abandoned warehouse, someplace nobody's going to be walking in on us."

Face eyeballed her suspiciously and commented, "Kind of like our old friend Pedavich, eh?"

"Hey, desperate times, man," Jean said, "Do what you have to, right?"

"But it still leaves the question what are we going to do with him?" Face asked.

"Well Face," Murdock told the Lieutenant, "Merely being moved out of the hospital's environment ought to get some kind of reaction out of him, because if that happens he's going to know that he is in some kind of imminent danger. If we're taking him out, he's going to know it's nothing good."

"That's for sure," Jean added, "I'd say it's a safe bet if there's any brain activity in that head of his, he's going to know that I least of all am not there to do any good by him."

"Right, which takes us to the next question," Face said, "Assuming he is faking it, and we catch him on it, then what? What're we going to do with him after the discovery?"

"We find out what he wants with Murdock and then we get rid of him," Jean said, "It's as simple as that."

"It is not as simple as that," Face said, "Exactly how do you 'get rid' of someone like that?"

"The man's a walking enigma, nobody is going to be calling the cops to file a missing person's report if he turns up missing. Now the CIA might look into it but that's something different altogether."

"Oh gee that makes me feel better," Face grumbled.

"Nobody's looking for him now, why would they if he croaks?" Jean asked.

"There's always the chance he's not CIA," Murdock added, "At least not anymore. The point is we'll find out when we have him."

"Yeah but Murdock," Face said, "We can't go into this flying blind, this is serious."

"Look who you're talking to," Jean pointed out, "If anybody knows about 'flying blind'…"

"You know what I mean," Face said, "What if something goes wrong? What if we're wrong? What if he's not faking it?"

"If he is," Murdock told the Lieutenant, "Is the bigger threat to us than if he isn't."

"Hannibal wants to get his hands on Fulbright, he can have Fulbright, let him go after Fulbright," Jean said as she sat down beside Face on the foot of the bed, "And we will go after Stockwell, we'll kill 2 buzzards with one bomb."

"And how exactly are we going to explain that one to Hannibal?" Face asked.

"You're the conman," Jean told him, "You can talk anybody into anything, convince anybody of anything, it should be the highlight of a conman's life to con Hannibal Smith into believing something."

"Mission Impossible is more like it," Face said, "Hannibal's immune to my cons."

"Well there's always a first time for everything, isn't there, Faceman?" Murdock asked.

"Look, Face," Jean told him sharply, "If you want out of this, that's fine, but we're going to do this with or without you, so you better decide where you stand."

Face took in and let out a distressed sigh and looked to Murdock and said, "Well I suppose when you put it that way…count me in," though he had a feeling that he had just blindly walked into the biggest mistake of his life.