Chapter 14 - Emancipation

Corporal Ronald Dickenson. He was the man who would go down in infamy as the one who sent a missile into Langley Base. Next, he would soon to be known as the man who was going to destroy the Capitol. After that, then the Pentagon and victory would soon be his.

The sight of his platoon lying motionless around him didn't matter. The thought that his life was probably about to end in the next few minutes didn't either. He was the last man standing. Well, not standing really, he'd been laying there playing dead. All he had on his psychotic mind was pulling off the last step. If he had to celebrate in hell afterward, he would do just that. Fueling his delusions of grandeur, he watched in amusement the man he'd just taken down who lay writhing there just a few meters away.

Hannibal sighed impatiently, waiting in the fuselage and the explosives detonator at the ready in his gloved hand. They should've been out by now, but here he stood in the cargo area - alone, minus the unconscious B.A. tied up nearby. All this extra time just standing around wasn't part of the plan.

After a quick glance around, he quickly poked his head out to see what was keeping the rest of them. Murdock was crouched on the edge of the right skid, also waiting. He was intent on protecting them, showering the heavily guarded area in warning with the last of his bullets.

Face's voice blared over the radio. "We're coming, Colonel! Hold on, I don't see Stockw- wait! You better get back here, Hannibal! The General's down, I think he's been -" his voice cut off and Hannibal's groan followed soon after.

This wasn't part of the plan either. Quickly choosing the only alternate available, he grabbed hold of the hull's edge to steady himself, and keyed his radio. "Hang on, Face, we're on our way. Murdock!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, then pointed to the cockpit. "Tag, you're in, Captain! Let's go get Face."

Heading the voice of his commander calling, Murdock threw his empty weapon aside and scrambled back into the cockpit. He gripped the cyclic and before he could even glance outside to get a bearing, it was already turning in his hands, one step ahead. He looked her way, who was focused intently on the area below.

"Take'r over, Tiger," her voice wavered as she relinquishing control back to him. "It's about to get hot, isn't it?"

"Get the steaks ready, Ace," A sly grin crept over his face and teased, "You feeling wild yet?"

She fired a warning glare his way. He shot back with an expression that she could only describe as pure insanity as he reached for the intercom switch and flipped it.

"Touchdown in sixty seconds, guys!"

They pitched forward and barreled in. When the skids finally scraped against the sand, Hannibal jumped from the cargo area and rushed to meet an awaiting Face. Propped against his shoulder was a limping Stockwell, who was biting his lip with an expression of pure annoyance.

"How bad is it?" Hannibal asked as he watched the wet, red blotch of blood slowly creep across his lower pant leg.

"Just a scratch." Stockwell waved a dismissive hand, refusing Hannibal's offer to help carry him as he favored the injured leg. "Now, let's get out of here and eliminate this annoyance, shall we?"

Suddenly, Murdock's voice blared over the radio at his belt. "Behind you, Colonel!"

Hannibal whirled around to a well-alive Dickenson, remote launcher in one hand, gun pointed directly at him in the other.

"Sh-" Murdock didn't finish the vulgarity as he threw open the cockpit door with one hand, while digging the pistol from his inner jacket pocket with the other. Taking a rushed aim, he fired three shots and they all whizzed by Dickenson's ear by a mere inch.

Dickenson jumped in surprise, then pointed his gun straight at Murdock and made a return attempt. Murdock ducked behind the cockpit door just in time and the bullets ricocheted off the steel metal hull in various directions. Through the corner of his eye, he saw A.J. quickly duck at the loud clang and wince. He only had a moment of panic to spare for her concern, thankfully long enough to tell she hadn't been hurt, before his attention was back to Dickenson. Worry turned to rage as Murdock raised his gun, aimed right between his enemy's eyes and pulled the trigger without a second thought.

*click*

You know, if Stockwell ain't dying yet, I just might kill him myself.

When Murdock looked up from reloading, he realized his distraction had worked anyway, and it had become their enemy's undoing.

They all watched as Dickenson's heart literally burst open in his chest. With blood now spurting from beneath the fatigues, Dickenson looked up and saw the smoking barrel of a pistol at him. Behind it, General Stockwell, his eyes full of smug confidence hidden behind his sunglasses.

"See you in hell, Corporal," Stockwell spat.

Dickenson clutched his throbbing chest and fell to the earth. But just before he felt the last of his soul slip into oblivion, he used it to squeeze the remote still clutched in his hands. With one last gasp, he exhaled. Then his eyes slowly iced over.

For good.

By now the familiar ring of the warning alarm had become more of a nuisance to Hannibal. With time running out, he insisted Stockwell take his and Face's arms to move faster, and the three began their trek back to the awaiting chopper.

"Come on, General," Hannibal rushed him. "We've only got about a minute to get out of here and detonate those explosives before that missile heads for D.C."

Each step felt like an eternity. But as soon as they were all aboard safely, Hannibal keyed his radio.

"Go, Murdock!"

At his command, the chopper lifted with ease and charged for the open water. Hannibal counted the seconds in his mind, then knew he couldn't wait any longer. He only hoped they were well enough out of range.

With a single squeeze, he pressed the detonator and it beeped in response. Time seemed to freeze and all eyes were on the island below.

One small explosion was seen off in the distance, then a chain reaction followed. A few seconds after, a deafening rumble overtook them as the base exploded into a huge rising mushroom cloud of fire, fueled by the plethora of missiles they'd just destroyed. Billowing black smoke rose to the air soon after and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

They were safe, along with their beloved country.

After the rumble ceased, Hannibal crouched before the injured Stockwell. After ripping his pant leg open, he found a gaping bullet hole in his calf. "Looks like you got the short end of the stick this time, General," he told him, an playful half-smile appearing at his lips.

Bemused, Stockwell glared in response. "Shall we return home, Colonel? I have more than a few people in Langley to get a hold of. Now, if you would be so kind."

After a shared nod in agreement, Hannibal sat back against the cold steel wall of the cargo area and keyed the radio. "Time to head back, guys. We've got a couple of wounded here that need medical attention."

The two in the cockpit exchanged glances as the command buzzed through the pair of headsets. He smiled, then gestured to the comm for her to answer.

"Aye, Colonel. We are headed home," she replied, still watching the billowing smoke in the distance. Then she began to loosen her grip on her cyclic. "Go ahead and take her, Tiger. I've seen enough action to last a looong while."

With the danger now behind them, Murdock broke into a yawn. Thirty-six hours of almost sleepless activity had drained him. With a desire of nothing more than to close his eyes for awhile, he laid his head back against the headrest and did just that - just before relinquishing control completely.

"That is a negative, Ace. She's all yours now, take us home."

When they arrived back at the Langley compound, the reception that followed was not quite one that would depict national heroes who had just saved their nation's capital from impending destruction. There was excitement though as an awaiting group rushed forward to meet with them the instant the helicopter's skids gently settled onto the grass.

It was a plethora of activity. Vitals were taken, unconscious bodies put into wheelchairs, reports being scrawled; not to mention the various weapons removed and inventoried by the never-ending supply of Ables that seemed to come and go.

Hearing the cacophony of voices finally drift away as the commotion headed back to the house, she remained motionless in the cockpit, her white-knuckled hand still gripping the cyclic long after the blades ceased turning. Finally prying her fingers off the grip, she leaned her head against the headrest and attempted to stow away the adrenaline that had built up over the last few hours.

She looked to her right and found Murdock studying her intently. As she peered into his eyes, she noticed the insanity had faded and couldn't tell what was going through his mind, other than he could still use some much-needed rest.

And a shower.

"So, Tiger," She reached out to touch his dirt streaked cheek, then traced the outline of a nasty bruise on his lip. "Still want the job?"

He considered her offer briefly, then replied with a smile, "I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I don't have a pilot's license, huh?"

B.A.'s eyes snapped open at the putrid smell under his nose and he quickly slapped it away. Reaching up to his head, he felt the nasty knot, with a splitting headache right behind it. "Where am I? What happened?" he demanded sternly. A quick glance around the room and he knew one thing already - he was back home in Langley.

"Now, B.A., calm down," Hannibal gently coaxed him, then offered an ice pack. "Don't you remember?

While pressing the frozen pack against his head, B.A. scrunched his face in thought, recollecting the scattered imagery in his pounding head. "We were caught."

Face picked up where B.A. trailed off, "And you decided to make a run for it, remember?"

"Yeah, and then the blast knocked you unconscious," Hannibal added.

"No, I don't remember that. But I do remember Stockwell was there and -" B.A. suddenly narrowed his eyes and shot a look across the room at Stockwell, who occupied the other couch across from him. Realizing he had flown once again after his refusal, B.A. furiously pointed a finger at him and yelled, "You're gonna pay for this, man!"

"I already have, Sergeant," Stockwell grumbled and the stinging sensation of antiseptic fizzled in his leg wound. "Take it easy, Doctor!" he snapped.

B.A. knew it really shouldn't have been amusing, but he snickered nonetheless

"Well, we pulled this one off without a hitch." Hannibal glanced over at Stockwell's leg and his wound that was now being neatly stitched. "Almost."

"Agreed." Stockwell muttered, then propped himself up and scolded, "Except Langley Air Base is now in the midst of a very large clean-up operation. But Dickenson has finally been terminated after twenty years on the run and the missile site completely destroyed. Gentlemen, I believe that's three more mission credits under your belts in just two weeks. You're getting quite efficient under my command, I must say."

"Which means we get an extra-long vacation this time, right?" Face piped up.

"Oh, I don't know. You gentlemen have proven you're good at rebuilding helicopters, I hear there's quite a few over at Langley's Base that are going to need some attention."

Face's face dropped in horror at the thought. "You're joking right?"

With his wound now dressed, Stockwell motioned to the two Ables standing by to join him and shakily rose to his feet with their help. "Good evening, gentlemen," he told them, then limped for the exit, an Able on each side propping him up.

The door swung inward, revealing two individuals in the doorway; their lips joined in a slow, passionate embrace. They had no idea that the wandering eyes of the house occupants were all gaping at them in surprise, sans Face, who smiled knowingly.

The loud sound of Stockwell clearing his through was enough to finally interrupt them. She quickly pulled away, her cheeks flushed, sputtering, "Oh, um- hello, General."

"Lieutenant. Captain." Stockwell dismissed the frivolity with a roll of his eyes, then gave them both a nod of appreciation. "My offer on your full military reinstatement still stands."

"Sir?"

"Are you going to make me repeat myself yet again, Parker?" Stockwell grumbled, trying to balance himself.

"No, sir." She exchanged a knowing glance with Murdock, then she shook her head. "I already have a job, General - which I'm more than happy to get back to first thing tomorrow."

"Well, consider it an open offer if you ever change your mind."

She hesitated, then saluted him. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."

Murdock saluted him too, not only out of a mandatory respect, but thanks as well.

Yeah, thanks, General. No, not just for taking the trouble to come out and rescue us, but for not getting us all killed in the process you sleazy son of a-

"Nice work, Captain, as always." Stockwell told him, then glanced briefly back to A.J., then added with a smirk, "Enjoy your downtime." As he began to limp his way by, he stopped briefly. "Until next time."

They watched Stockwell's limo pull away and Murdock immediately sighed with relief when it finally drove out of sight. Thankful another mission was over, he and his teammates; his brothers, were still alive and safe. Feeling like he'd finally left his crazy self behind, he was about to pick up where they left off before they were interrupted. Instead, she pulled him through the familiar front doors.

"Ah, there's the veritable knight in shining armor," Face teased. With Stockwell and his entourage now out of sight, a sense of relaxation washed over them all.

"Speaking of armor," Murdock began, breathing a sigh of relief as he recalled their close call earlier. "It was a good thing we went with that steel plating, guys! Boy, if we would've stuck with aluminum, she would've melted a hole in the side from all that heat, then we would've lost all her lift and -"

"Murdock!"

It wasn't just B.A. who yelled at him this time, but A.J. had also joined him in their unified protest.

"Oops," he grinned apologetically. Perhaps he hadn't left all his old self behind after all.

Hannibal had been quietly watching from the corner of the room; a rag doused in antiseptic against his split lip and ice on his ribs. His eyes softened when he noticed A.J.'s concern for his injuries and gave a reassuring smile. "It's okay, kid."

She nodded. "Well guys, I think it's about time I flew out of here. Time to head home."

"Aw, already?" Murdock grinned mischievously at B.A. "Hey, big guy, I think there's a few dings to be buffed out. Whadda ya say?"

"Don't even try crazy man," B.A. scowled in warning. "You tricked me once, I ain't falling for it again!"

"That's okay, B.A.," A.J. broke in, unwilling to endure yet another round of their banter. "She is back to one-hundred percent, thanks to you!" She quickly made her way over to him for one last appreciative hug. "Thanks to all of you. It's been... unforgettable." She quickly made her rounds to say goodbye to each of them, eager to get back home.

"I'm sure we'll see you soon," Face told her as they hugged. He probably held on a little longer than normal, but he didn't care, then whispered in her ear, "Thanks for saving my neck, kid."

Remembering the same words she'd read in Murdock's book, she felt an inward smile grow. "Hey, stop by the airfield anytime you want, as promised. Bring a date and I'll take you guys up for a freebie."

Face immediately became thoughtful. "Hm, romantic chopper ride over the Capitol... a little champagne, a little something else afterwards - how about once a week?"

"A week?" A.J. stared at him in disbelief. She was about to tell him how much it was going to cost the gulf in petrol, but smiled instead. "Sure, Face. Just call to make sure I'm free first, okay?"

"Deal."

Still got it, Faceman.

Hannibal stood up and offered his hand in kind, which she took. "Take care of yourself, kid... and that bird."

As they shook hands, Murdock dropped his arm on her shoulder. "She won't have to, Colonel. I'll see to that."

"Good luck, Captain." Hannibal gave an approving nod and as the door closed behind them, he added with a chuckle, "If she's anything like her father, he's going to need it."

B.A. looked over at him curiously. "Hey, did you ever tell A.J. that you knew her dad?"

When Hannibal shook his head, B.A. shot him a look of disbelief. "What?"

"Hannibal!" Face exclaimed in surprise. "You mean she still doesn't know?"

"What? It never came up, guys."

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!