The thought of the A-Team as half-bloods came to me randomly and refused to leave. This story is my attempt to do justice to that weird idea and to also pay tribute to my favorite team member, Face. He may seem a little off but keep in mind this is pre-series.

Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith looked over the file in his hand, his lips pursed thoughtfully. He itched to have a cigar to chew while thinking but not even his skilled and now-dead supply officer Gaines had been able to acquire any in the jungles of 'Nam.

The file was of his newly assigned supply officer, 23-year-old Lt. Templeton Peck. It featured an extensive list of reprimands and an impressive combat record, but Hannibal barely glanced at those, instead, looking to study the portion detailing Peck's background, looking for clues.

Peck's record showed a privileged upbringing in LA, with both parents at home. He'd attended one preppy private school his whole life and had been a model student, later graduating with a degree in accounting from an equally preppy university. In other words, not a half-blood.

Hannibal sighed as he put down the file, thinking of his unit. BA had been the first to catch his eye, as his temper landed him in the stockade again and again. Something about him seemed odd and his records confirmed it; Sgt. Bosco Baracus, one parent, difficult in school, and unpopular with his fellow soldiers.

When approached and questioned, Baracus had been abrasive and verbally offensive, denying any knowledge of gods and demigods. But buried amidst the numerous gold chains he wore was a string of beads, marking him as a veteran of Camp Half-Blood.

Hannibal didn't need his reluctant confession of his parentage to recognize Baracus－or BA－as a son of Hephaestus. His uniform perenially smelled of machines and oil, and his hands clasped still-hot weapons without burning.

A few called favors and string-pullings better, BA was on his team. The beginning was rough but he soon saw the benefit of following a son of Athena. BA liked few, respected less, but Hannibal earned both and his loyalty.

Hannibal had literally run into Ray, who blurted out an apology and introduced himself as Captain Ray Brenner before the colonel could finish his own apology. He would have thought nothing of it, save for the fact that it took the captain just too long to read 'Smith' on his uniform.

Slightly suspicious, Hannibal asked for Ray's unit to assist in his next assignment. Charlie set upon them almost immediately, raining down deadly fire, cutting down U.S. soldiers right and left. Through it all moved Ray, blending in with the plants, never hindered by the 'Nam jungle. VC soldiers near him tripped over roots and ran into branches. Wounded comrades were hidden from Charlie by foliage until Ray came to drag them to safety.

Hannibal had Ray transferred to his unit immediately, designating the young captain as his 2IC. Children of Demeter that powerful were rare and he had no intention of leaving this one unprotected.

Time went on and the bond between Hannibal, B.A., and Ray had strengthed to the point that when he needed a 'chopper pilot, he went looking for a half-blood. A son of Zeus would have been preferable abilities-wise, but most young enough to be in 'Nam would have turned sixteen after the prophecy was given. And any older would draw monsters in droves. Much as a child of the Lord of the Sky would have been nice to have as a pilot, the risks to the rest of his men were too great.

So few half-bloods had risked exposure by signing up and it had seemed to Hannibal that not a single one who had, had become a pilot. One day, he'd about given up, so he had sighed and leaned against a chopper, sharpening his dagger. Thanks to the Mist, all the men around him had seen was a colonel cleaning his pistol.

After a few minutes of him gazing idly into nowhere, he realized one of the pilots was in front of him, staring at him intently. He glanced at the pilot's rank and name tag.

"What can I do for you, Captain－" he ran a few possible combinations for the jumbled-up letters on the name tag. "－Murdock?"

"We'', the captain drawled. "I know I'm insane but… Is it just me or are you holding a dagger of the ancient Greek persuasion?"

Hannibal straightened, putting the knife away while studying this 'Murdock' intently. He'd checked all the pilots; there was no way he missed a half-blood. That left a couple of options, few of them good. He forced out a grin, wishing for a cigar to complete the picture.

"What if I was?"

Murdock smiled. "Then I'd say you need to be more careful." The grin disappeared. "There are monsters in our army, not just in the VC."

Hannibal got the feeling he wasn't being philosophical. "Why do you say that?"

"I've seen 'em. Earned myself the nickname 'Howling Mad' before I learned to keep my mouth shut."

The pieces clicked into place. "You're a mortal."

"Yep."

"Who can see through the Mist."

"Yep."

Hannibal narrowed his eyes at the pilot. This Captain Murdock was shrewd, too shrewd for this encounter to have been by happenstance. "You didn't just come up to me because I a dagger, did you?"

Murdock grinned madly. "Not exactly. I came up to you when I saw the dagger, but I was looking for Colonel John Smith and it just made me think you were him. You are him, right?"

"That's me, yes. Why were you looking for me?"

"I heard about your inquiries. I heard about this colonel whose search methodology for a pilot sounds like he's lookin' for half-bloods. You need to be more subtle about that, by the way. I thought you might be a monster. But then I heard about your men, how the one can make anything and the other is untouchable in the forest. And you. You are probably one of the most unorthodox yet brilliant strategists here. I stopped thinking monster and started thinking son of Athena, who's gathering an elite team of fellow half-bloods. Am I wrong?"

"No," Hannibal sighed. "What do you want?"

Laughing, Murdock replied, "Why, I'm offering my services to you! I want to be your pilot."

It was risky, letting a mortal join his group, but Murdock fit right in with Hannibal's band of misfits. And he had to admit, despite his apparent insanity, Murdock took his official duty of flying the team, and his self-assigned duty of watching for monsters, very seriously. And it was nice to have one team member who wasn't a living magnet for monsters.

Mitchell had been assigned to his unit by chance, or rather, luck. Hannibal had been suspicious of a half-blood just happening to be put on his team until he learned his parentage. Things always worked out for Sergeant Todd Mitchell, son of Tyche. Hannibal learned early on to abstain from any card game or bet involving him. He'd always claimed that his control of luck wasn't limitless. Hannibal foolishly had never believed him, until a bullet hit Mitchell's leg, making him just too late to save his best friend.

The final, and now-gone member of his team, was Lieutenant David Gaines, a supply officer that Hannibal had requested once he saw him take on ten hostiles and emerge unscathed. Unlike most children of Ares, Gaines had been quiet and subdued yet friendly, a foil to Mitchell's passion and fire and tendency to close himself off. But even his battle skill wasn't enough and he'd been cut down, leaving a devastated best friend and the team behind, who had one piece of advice for his replacement. Get lost.

Speaking of his replacement, Peck was due any minute. Hannibal sighed. Even if Peck fit in, became part of the team, he could never be fully included. An aspect of the team would always be hidden from him, out of necessity. And that was a best-case scenario. If Peck wasn't agreeable, or worse, the type to be in the employ of monsters, things could get ugly fast.

"Colonel! Oh, Colonel!" Murdock came running in, calling in a sing-song voice.

"Yes, Murdock?"

"Mitchell's back from the hospital and Peck just arrived."

"Both of them?" A headache mounting, Hannibal resisted the temptation to hit something. Mitchell must've upset Tyche something fierce. "Did you meet Peck?"

"Briefly."

"And?"

There was no insanity in Murdock now. "Colonel, he won't be Gaines. You know that; I know that. Don't make him think he has to. Let him be Peck, whatever that means."

What do you think? Please favorite, and review about what lines and moments you liked.