If I Should Forget.
A/N: Ok, here goes, the final chapter. I hope it lives up to expectations, even though there is not as much action in this chapter as I would have hoped. Thank you so much to everyone who read this story and reviewed. And finally Happy New Year everyone.
Chapter 10.
Face charged down the stairs, seconds behind Lynch. They had just heard the unmistakable sound of a gun shot. They reached the ground floor to find, there was no other way to describe it, a swarm of people, shoving their way towards the door.
Men in black suits were trying to hold them in, but they were outnumbered, slowly people were managing to filter out. Lynch ran into the crowd, looking for an associate to question, and most likely shout at. Face quickly took this opportunity to slip into the crowd himself, feeling sick as he wondered about the origins of the gun shot.
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Hannibal and BA spilt up in an attempt to get through the door undetected. Hannibal quickly saw his opening. A guard, one of the largest men he had ever seen, which was saying a lot as he knew BA, was arguing with a short stout man, who was most likely straining his neck looking up at the man.
He worked his way through the crowd, heading straight for the argument, ready to slip through when the guard was distracted.
The guard in question was looking over the head of the small man who was now shouting at him, he was yelling himself, to the others in the room, "Please if everyone could stay calm and clear the exits by going back into the building. I've been assured it was only a car backfiring."
But the small man, sporting an unkempt grey beard, was having none of it, "A car backfiring!" He shouted with a fake laugh, "How stupid do you think we are! Why was there a gun shot? I deserve to know what's going on!"
The guard looked down, observing the small man as if he were no more than scum on his shoe, he spoke in a low venomous tone, still managing to retain the image of being polite, "If you don't mind Sir, I'm a little busy right now."
Hannibal chose this moment to slip through, spreading out with the rest of the crowd the moment they reached open space. But there was a patch being avoided, several agents starting to cordon off an area, some kneeling around a spot, a spot in which lay an unmoving body.
Hannibal started off at a sprint straight towards the body, a growing sense of dread rising within him.
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BA hadn't been so lucky, when he'd reached the doors, using his muscles to push through, he'd been recognised by a nearby guard. The man headed straight for him, one hand on the holster of his gun, even though it was obvious he couldn't use it in such a crowd, and the other at his ear, on the comms line.
If he was honest with himself, BA didn't want to do this. The suited man in front of him had probably done nothing wrong, currently he was just doing his job. BA actually thought he was brave, many people, when faced with him, would keep there distance. That was one of the reasons he'd got to the door so quickly.
But there seemed no other way, soon the man would have broadcasted their escape and the CIA agents would arrive. So he took the man out, a strong right hook, leaving him, not unconscious to be stampeded by the crowd, but more than a little dazed.
BA charged through the door, searching for another member of his team. He saw Hannibal running, and he saw the body on the floor. He followed the Colonel lead and ran.
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Face got to the doors just in time to see Lynch arguing with a guard. Lynch turned to face him and the Lieutenant asked, "What's going on? What was that shot?"
Lynch's eyes were wild, reflecting how far out of his depth he was, "Come on," The agent muttered, gesturing for Face to follow him outside.
The people surging to get out of the building had now finally been contained, although many were already out and milling around frantically. Lynch headed straight for the cordoned off area, power walking with a grim expression fixed on his face.
Then he saw a man running to the cordon, and then another, coloured skin, an unmistakable mohawk.
"W..w...what, but they?" Lynch looked around to Face, flabbergasted.
Face grinned, and set off at a sprint after his team mates without a word. Lynch immediately reached for his comm lines, "Peck has remembered. The A-Team has escaped. Get them back at any cost."
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The three team members reached the cordon, not looking down to the body. Deep down they knew what had happened. Anger surged in Face as he sent wild punches in all directions, and Hannibal and BA followed suit. But he wasn't thinking, anger clouded his judgement, made his fighting careless, and he was grabbed from behind. The fighting stopping abruptly as he felt a cold metal barrel of a gun being pressed against his right temple.
Finally Face looked down, he saw Murdock sprawled in front of him, blood pooling around his...around his leg. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Then with a grin, "You never learn do you," he pushed his head back hard, letting it crack into the man holding him. The gun dropped with a clatter and the man fell backwards with a dizzy groan.
Men who had stopped surged forwards again, but a new found hope spurred them on. Hannibal gave them a quick signal, and BA covered for him, as he sprinted away, lost in the crowd. Face delivered a high kick, straight into a man's chest, causing him to overbalance and fall to the ground.
Face ran in the direction Hannibal had gone, and BA quickly grabbed Murdock and followed, footsteps smacked down onto the tarmac behind them.
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Murdock could remember running, or at least he thought he could. Now all he could think about was the searing pain in his left leg. He had been running...and then...he'd been shot. He wondered briefly if they'd been aiming for his leg or whether they'd all been a little behind in training recently.
He forced himself to ignore the pain, opening his eyes a crack, letting in blinding sunlight. At that moment Face ran past him, followed by a disgruntled BA who swiftly gathered him into his arms. A black car pulled up in front of them and Murdock began to groan from the pain, sure he was going to pass out. BA shoved him into the backseat, jumping in beside him as Face hurtled into the passenger seat, slamming the door with a satisfying crack. Hannibal pressed the accelerator and they sped off down the road, the sound of gunshots fading as they got further and further away.
A/N: Ok, ok; that's not entirely the end, there is a short epilogue coming up soon :D Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please review.