In the aftermath of the explosion, the two teams gathered on the deck of the Lagoon, whooping and celebrating as the bright flames lit up the early evening skies. Dutch had already sent out an anonymous signal to the nearest local coast guards to come pick up any survivors, and after letting the kids bask in the glory of victory, decided enough was enough. He sat back down at the wheel of his ship and pushed down on the throttles, putting the Lagoon on a course for home. No sense sticking around to answer any awkward questions.
Plus, there were just a few loose ends left to tie up. He sighed, rubbing his head as a headache already started to come to the fore. This wasn't going to be pleasant, but it had to be done.
Rock found Hannibal in the planning room sometime after the celebration above deck had died down. Evidently, the good ex-Colonel had been expecting him, for he was sitting in a seat casually watching the door when the ex-Salaryman came in. The disk that Benny had misplaced from his laptop rested on Hannibal's knee, balanced precariously as he continued to puff at his victory cigar. Smoke hung thick in the air overhead.
"... I guess you know why I'm here," Rock began.
Hannibal smirked. "Know thy enemy. Know what they'll do before they do it. That's always been the plan."
"Enemy of my enemy is my friend?" Rock tried, quoting right back at him.
Hannibal shook his head solemnly. "Enemy of my enemy... is still my enemy. There are no clear-cut teams in war. No red versus blue versus green free-for-alls. No neat niceties. Only your team, and everybody else. The rest is tactics."
"If I was to guess your next tactical move, I'd say... destroy the blueprints, vanish back into the underworld. How close am I?" Rock asked, fishing for a cigarette of his own.
"Pretty close. My team didn't get paid for this, and we're not doing this solely out of the goodness of our hearts. Normally, I think we'd drop this off with a government agency and a tip-off about Armored Industries. Let the law enforcement agencies deal with it."
"Good thing I switched the disks then," said Rock nonchalantly as he took his time lighting his own cigarette and taking a long puff on it. Idly he reached above one of the ceiling pipes and tugged loose a compact disk exactly the same as the one Hannibal had in his hands. "You should have nothing more than the latest amusing cat video on YouTube. Looped, volume at max," he added with a smirk.
"Not bad. You definitely got potential, kid. Just remember... no matter how random things appear, there is always a plan," he said, and tossed his disk into the nearby trashcan.
Suddenly confused, Rock eyed the disk in his hands curiously. "You switched disks yourself?"
"It's a copy of the one Decker was originally going to give to Balalaika... the one with the self-destroying virus hidden in its code. Shows up legitimate the first time then wipes itself clean. Your employers need never know what happened. That is what you were planning, isn't it?"
Rock nodded slowly.
Hannibal shrugged. "Or... it's that latest YouTube hit sensation. You tell me."
Rock eyed the CD once again, then Hannibal. The older man just smirked confidently.
"This part of the plan? Or is there even a plan at this point?"
"You tell me, kid. Is it?"
Okajima Rokuro smiled. There was always a plan.
The next morning, the Lagoon chugged into port back in Roanapur. Being nearly a full day behind schedule, Dutch wasted no time in phoning up the Hotel Moscow front office and promising delivery within the hour. Benny drove them up to the posh fortress of Balalaika and her soldiers. Thankfully, she didn't seem too worried or upset they were late, even making a token effort to sound concerned.
"You look like you had a rough time... strong opposition?" she asked, puffing at her cigar casually.
The four teammates exchanged a look. They certainly looked like they'd been through hell, but at least they were largely intact. "You could say that," Dutch replied.
"Well, that is why we hire you after all. And you've certainly earned you pay. Come then, let's see what I've purchased..." she beckoned with a well-manicured nail, indicating her laptop.
Rock stepped forward and offered her the disk, which she inserted. This was the moment of truth. To see which team had come out on top, which mind had outwitted the other, and if not him, then whether or not the A-Team had decided to screw them over or trust in their integrity.
Finally, the laptop beeped, and Balalaika peered at the screen curiously. Evidently, however, she was satisfied with the contents, for a smile stretched across her mismatched but pretty face.
"High Energy Tactical Laser, codenamed Ragnarok. Everything needed to build and manufacture the most destructive toy since nuclear bombs. Good doing business with you, Dutch," she said, handing the disk over her shoulder to Boris. "Destroy this, would you, Sergeant?"
"Ja, Kapitan."
Dutch blinked behind his sunglasses, clearly taken aback. Most of the rest of his crew were equally stunned. It took Rock a minute to catch up, and by then, Balalaika was spelling it out for them anyway.
"We wanted to remove the weapon from play in the hands of our enemies, but never intended to make use of it ourselves," explained Balalaika, puffing on her cigar. "It seems so terribly wasteful, to say nothing of costly. The threat alone is enough the moment. And I for one enjoy the thrill and honor that only comes from holding a weapon in my hand, staring Death in the face... and making him fucking blink."
Delivered in so cold a tone of voice not one of the Lagoon Company thought her joking, they just quietly filed out of the office and the building as quickly as they could, even as a trill of laughter filled the air. Balalaika was in a very good mood today, it seemed. Hopefully it would last a while.
All in all, things could have been worse, so Dutch felt a night on the town was needed to celebrate. He and the rest of the Lagoon Company made their way to Bao's Yellow Flag, and in a surprisingly friendly gesture, even invited the A-Team along for the fun.
They were already making plans to disappear into Thailand then return to the States quietly, but Hannibal felt no reason they couldn't take just one more night off. They certainly weren't on any sort of deadline. The A-Team kept to the cheaper stuff, however, not having quite enough funds thanks to their dirt bag employer and having no desire to break too many laws on their way out of the country. Then again, in a city like Roanapur, it was refreshingly nice to walk the streets without fear of getting caught. Hell, here if they weren't completely ignored by the local population of cutthroats, killers and criminals; they were given a wide berth out of respect. It almost felt kinda nice.
Thus, a night on the town for men in very high spirits. Bao was doing very good business as the two teams lined up the bar and started downing Bacardi like it was water. After a while, they'd put away enough to kill a herd of yaks.
Rock, not quite as eager to get completely drunk, had claimed a table near the bar instead and was nursing a smaller glass. Hannibal joined him after a bit, leaning up against a nearby post holding up the ceiling. Even here amongst supposed friends he always kept his guard up and his back safe.
"Crazy times, eh kid?"
"Nah, this is a walk in the park for us... you too, from the sounds of it."
"Life does certainly get interesting," conceded Hannibal. "If you know the right people."
"Or the wrong people," added Rock meaningfully.
The older gentleman nodded thoughtfully. He'd certainly met more than his fair share of both, and Rock definitely wasn't one of the latter. "Listen, kid... you're not like your team. Anyone here can see that. So I have to ask... why're you here? What're you doing running with pirates and mercenaries? It's a dangerous life here, kid."
"I know that. I've been told that quite a few times actually. But... it feels like where I belong. Besides, I wouldn't know where else to go. I pretty much burned all the bridges when I left my old life... most of my friends and family probably think I'm dead by now."
"Maybe you could come with us," Hannibal said. Rock glanced up in surprise. "Normally I never fix what isn't broken. Personal philosophy of mine. My team hasn't changed in nearly a decade because we're good at what we do and we click. Still... you've got potential. Lots of potential. And I'd like to see where it could go. So... maybe something to think about? Be a bit less dangerous than running with pirates, smugglers and mercenaries."
The two men glanced up as their came a commotion from the nearby table. Evidently an impromptu arm-wrestling contest had broken out, and Two Hands was eagerly taking on all challengers. However, even using his bad arm, Boscoe was giving Revy a run for her money. She may have been ambidextrous but she was also half his size, and slowly but surely her arm teetered until he slammed it down on the table. Fortunately, it seemed she was taking it in reasonably good stride, and just settled for calling him an asshole.
While smiling.
Rock smiled too, watching the sight. There were signs of humanity in Revy. Maybe a bit more deeply buried than most, maybe it sometimes manifest in truly sick and deranged ways, but she was definitely alive and real. And that's why he stayed.
"I know it's dangerous, it's stupid even but... well... I feel like I spent so much of my early life just sleepwalking, going through the motions. Now I feel like I'm finally awake and alive. And they... she... make me feel like every second is important. So... yeah... I'm gonna stay. But, thank you for your kind offer, Smith-san."
"Hannibal, to my friends," replied the older man, offering his gloved hand. Rock shook it politely, managing not to wince at his very strong grip.
The TV above the bar was working, and bringing the latest information on the whole incident overseas.
"... in other news, the CEO of Armored Industries was brought into custody on charges of black-market arms sales..."
"Ha! Justice at its finest!" crowed Face, glass upraised at the latest news. "Knew that anonymous tip was worth it."
Benny chuckled weakly, sipping his drink. He'd been the one to send the anonymous e-mail to Interpol, and it hadn't been easy bouncing the signal around so it couldn't be traced back to him. But he'd managed. No one should have been any the wiser for either team's involvement in the whole fiasco. Which was exactly how they all wanted it to stay.
"Next round is on me!" crowed Face, and the teams cheered, drinks upraised at his generosity. While the Lagoon Company had gotten their paycheck from Hotel Moscow, Dutch had already had to deducate a considerable expense for his boat repairs, to say nothing of the rental they'd totalled in Miricana. After that, he'd taken his usual overhead for business and repairs, then split it eight ways. No one could doubt the A-Team had been there when they'd been needed.
However, eight ways of a pitiful sum was an even more pitiful sum, so most of them barely had enough to get by. For now, the plan was to get so wasted they could enjoy the night and forget their troubles. Tomorrow, if still there, then they could be dealt with.
Amidst the cheering and congratulations and freely flowing alcohol, neither team noticed as a pair of women slipped into the Yellow Flag and take up residence at a table in the corner. It was a popular one, offering an excellent view of both bar and entrance, and yet was well enough out of the way that when a fight broke out it wasn't an immediate target.
The first woman was a blonde, wearing a pair of pink sunglasses and a tube top that clung to her ample bust in defiance of gravity, as well as a pair of cutoff jeans. Her counterpart was a little more conservatively dressed, in a mauve Hawaiian t-shirt and some shorts. Her own sunglasses were resting atop of her head, and her eyes kept darting around, making note of everything. She was a slim brunette, her dark brown hair drawn into a functional ponytail.
They ordered some fruity drinks, nothing too alcoholic, and settled back to converse as they none-too-subtly kept watch on the two teams.
"So, is that them?" asked Eda, though there was no doubt in her mind.
Souza nodded. "Without question," she said, sipping her drink, then grimacing. A bit stronger than she was used to. "That's my boys. The Department of Defense is very grateful you were able to offer assistance in this matter."
The blonde shrugged. "Eh, figured I'd toss them a bone. We all have to play nice from time to time."
The dark-haired woman stirred her drink with the little straw that had come with it, studying the Alpha Unit she'd been in pursuit of for the past few months. She'd requested the case specifically to ensure that they were brought in alive, as well as tried fairly. She owed them a lot, and so did her government, but that was the best she could do for Hannibal Smith and his team of loose cannons.
But it had been a while since she'd laid eyes on them in person. Not since she'd been promoted to Major, come to think of it.
"So... going to go and arrest them?" asked Eda, swirling her drink in hand. "Maybe bring in the Lagoon Company as well as collaborators? If so, I call dibs on handcuffing Rocky boy."
The brunette smirked across the table at her blonde counterpart.
"I was sent to confirm they're alive," replied the Major, downing her shot. "And make an attempt to capture Hannibal and his team if it seemed a viable option."
Eda smirked, "Ah, and the fact that you could have a small army of Black Ops here in ten minutes... not viable?"
"Not against them," the brunette replied nonchalantly. "Complete waste of military time and resources. Oh well, terrible shame that. Another?"
"Don't mind if I do."
The two women tossed back a few more drinks until Bao finally made last call and started to close the Yellow Flag, amazed it was still intact after the day it had. They then slipped out the back quietly while the two teams walked (or in many cases, stumbled) out the front doors, bidding their final farewells to one another.
"Anytime you guys need another gunslinger... I seriously hope you call someone other than us," said Revy cheerfully, leaning against her Rock for support. He kept her steady. "You're all fucking crazy."
"I know what you are, but what am I?" shouted Murdock good-naturedly as he climbed into the back of Boscoe's van, slamming the doors shut.
Face paused long enough to gallantly kiss the back of Revy's hand, bidding her 'a fair evening' politely. She tried to stifle a grin, muttering something about a dog with a bone.
Dutch shook hands with each of the A-Team, silently hoping he never laid eyes on any of them ever again. Hannibal, however, had quite enjoyed how things had turned out. "If you have a problem, and no one else can help, just give us a call."
"How?"
"Oh I'm sure you'll find a way," he replied enigmatically, stepping into the van and sliding the door shut. They drove off without another word. Likewise, the Lagoon Company called it quits for the day, driving off in Benny's beat up vehicle to their various domiciles. After a long mission and a rough day, all they wanted to do was sleep it off. Most of them would show up late to work tomorrow, and not a damn one would care.
Both teams went back to their respective lives, dangers and all. It turned out the world was big enough for all of them after all.
Just barely though.
Author's Notes:
Alas all good things come to an end. Thanks as always to my loyal reviewers and to my own crack team of beta soldiers-for-hire (no, wait, that's not right, that implies I actually pay them) for helping keep the story pure gold. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.