10 Days Earlier, A Small Farm in the Valley, South of Fresno
Face, Murdock, and BA were on the fringe of the tree line just east of the rural farm road they'd
been following for the past hour. Face turned to whisper to BA, who was staring at the monitor
in his hand, "Are you sure this is the right place?"
Growling, "Ya sucka, Hannibal's in the house." He pointed to the farm house approximately
one-hundred feet in front of them. They could clearly see pairs of men walking around with
various rifles patrolling the grounds.
Silently cursing the fact that it was only 3:30pm so it wouldn't be dark for several more hours,
Face began devising a plan to go and rescue their missing leader. So far it had been one of the
worst days of Face's adult life. The morning had started with Face being kidnaped right outside
the house the team was using for it's latest job. He'd been monumentally pissed at being caught
unawares but it was a tame reaction in comparison to Hannibal's response.
The intrepid colonel had been livid at the mocking phone call from Tommy Johnston, the local
hood, who had been using illegal immigrant workers for slave labor. The team had been hired to
put the ring out of business. Johnston, a former sergeant in the army had had a few run-ins with
Col. Smith. There was no love loss between the two men and Johnston decided the best way to
get rid of the team was to use the suave conman as a means of controlling Hannibal. An exchange
was agreed upon, reluctantly by Murdock and BA, Face for Hannibal. All things considered it
had gone off fairly well with Face dumped, tied up next to his corvette that Hannibal had been
driving and Hannibal thrown into Johnston's van. The guns pointing at both men prevented HM
and BA from attempting any kind of intervention. The transmitter sewn into Smith's jacket led
the team right to Johnston's private farm surrounded by armed gunmen.
Peck longed to go settle the account with the man who had used him to get to Hannibal but knew
that their only chance to rescue the colonel would be under the cover of darkness. So the three
men scouted patrol routes and the number of guards just itching for the opportunity to put this
lowlife out of business. Hoping that by waiting a couple of hours after dark to lull the guards into
a false sense of security the three remaining team members made their move.
It was just like an old infiltration operation in Vietnam. BA and Murdock worked as a pair to
take out the four patrol units undetected while Face snuck into the house and got Hannibal
without being noticed. Fear that gunfire would result in Johnston just killing Hannibal made them
extra cautious. Light escaping from the cellar doors gave the conman a logical place to start his
search.
Face had lost his .357 to Johnston earlier and settled for a spare Browning 9mm and a smaller Uzi
rather than his usual fully automatic Ruger Mini-14. They'd been picked up long ago for
emergency purposes, but no one had ever needed them until now.
At nine o'clock, almost two hours after sunset, Face had skirted the tree line around to the back
part of the house. The distance was much shorter and the back porch light was either out or unlit.
It was darker on this side of the house and Face was able to traverse the thirty feet to the
backdoor unnoticed. Peering in the window revealed that no one was in the formal living room or
hallway. He picked the lock easily and slipped inside, listening for voices. Not hearing anything
Face moved toward the kitchen. It was empty as well but a door, either the basement or pantry
was partially open. Edging into the room Face listened intently for any clue what was on the
other side. Pushing the door open slowly, a set of stairs led down. Cautiously Face started down
praying that the wooden steps would not creak and give away his advantage.
Four steps from the bottom Face could distinctly hear Johnston's voice taunting Hannibal.
"The mighty John Smith reduced to a pathetic whipping boy. If only the army could see you
now." The biting words were accompanied by the swish of a bamboo cane slicing the air and
subsequent thwack of it's impact on Hannibal's back. A grunt of pain and disorientation was
Smith's only reply.
"Come now Colonel, this isn't nearly as much fun if you don't yell." Thwack! "You're not nearly
so powerful or intimidating as I remember. In fact you and the A-Team have rather disappointed
me." Thwack! "Ah well, good entertainment is so hard to find. It's almost a shame to have to
kill you."
Face took the last few steps down the stairs in a hurry, no longer concerned about making too
much noise. "I wouldn't bet money on that if I were you Johnston." Pointing the 9mm in his right
hand at the other man. "Put down the cane or I'll put you down."
Ignoring the order Johnston smirked, "I'm impressed Peck. I didn't expect to see you again until
after I'd dumped his body on your doorstep. How did you find us so soon?"
Glaring, "You're not nearly as smart as you think Tommy. I could smell your stench miles away.
Step back from the table real slowly."
Johnston bristled at the insult, but controlled himself. "Actually I kinda like it here. Besides it
will be far more fun to beat Smith to death with you watching. I've always wondered what Smith
saw in a two bit hustler like you. What is it Colonel? Is Peck just too nice a piece of ass for you
to pass up?"
The former Lieutenant's visage darkened as he cocked the hammer on his pistol. "Back away
from him Johnston." The gun never wavered as Templeton took a step towards the table the
older man was strapped on. "Hannibal, you okay?"
Glancing at his commanding officer out of the corner of his eye Face could see that the older man
was in bad shape. Stripped to the waist Smith's back appeared to be one big bruise with various
cuts and abrasions also marring the skin. Rivulets of blood puddled on the otherwise bare
wooden table. On the back of his head was an obvious knot with dried blood staining his hair and
leaving a path down his neck. When no response came Face's worry escalated.
"I said step away from the table Johnston." The conman spat angrily.
Smirking, "I don't think so Peck. Really, the fun's just beginning. He's unconscious now so I only
have your reactions to judge by." He pulled back the cain a little to see what younger man would
do.
"You try and swing that cain again and I'll kill you." The dark words more a promise than a
threat.
Gleefully, "I don't think so. Why don't you look to your left and say hello to my partner Omar
Hernandez. That twelve-gauge he's carrying could make things real messy for both of you." Face
silently cursed, berating himself for forgetting about the stairwell behind him. He could clearly
see the other man now in the corner of his eye.
He had no idea exactly how much time had passed since he entered the house. BA and Murdock
could be anywhere, making it unrealistic to expect them to come and save his sorry ass.
Hannibal's life lay in the balance and for once the conman wasn't sure how the hell to get the both
of them out of this situation.
"Not so much fun is it Peck. Put the gun down now!" Johnston ordered.
Trying to buy time and think of some way out of this impossible scenario, "No. I put the gun
down and you kill both of us. You tell Hernandez to put his gun down before I kill you."
Enjoying the upper hand, sneering, "Cold blooded murder isn't your style conman. I know your
reputation and execution isn't on your list of traits. Besides if you shoot me Omar will kill you
and Smith both. Or if you try and disable Omar he'll kill you and then I'll kill Smith. You came
here to save him didn't you? That's not very likely if you keep that gun pointed toward me. Drop
it or I'll make him beg for me to kill him."
Shit! Hannibal, why aren't you awake to tell me what the hell I should do? I can't...I won't sit
here and watch him beat you. I did that at the camps and I swore to myself that I would never
stand by and willfully watch one of you guys tortured again. Jesus, I can see the gleam in
Tommy's eye, he'll kill us both if I put down this gun and wait for BA and Murdock to show up.
He knows BA'll come running when he hears that shotgun blast.
Don't get ahead of yourself. First things first Templeton, make sure Hannibal's not in the line of
that shotgun. Keep'em occupied with what I'm saying, not what I'm doing. "You really are
delusional Tommy if you think Hannibal would beg you for anything. You're just a pissant
amateur who's gotten in way over his head." Slowly Face stepped backwards and to his right
making sure to keep 9mm pointed directly between Johnston's eyes. He continued to talk as he
shuffled further away from both Omar and Hannibal. "Do you honestly think you're going to get
away with all this? Those are people you're using Tommy, not some fourteenth century feudal
beast of burden you're selling to the lords of the kingdom. I'm only sorry I won't get to see your
face when they lock you up in a cell for the rest of your life." With smugness dripping from every
word, "The irony is delicious don't you think? You two will be serving twenty to life while the
A-Team is still free. God bless America."
Across the room Johnston is practically vibrating with anger and hate. Snarling, "The only cell
you're going to see Peck is six feet deep, cause that's where you'll end up when I send Colonel
Decker, you, in a body bag. You're time is up Peck. You made a hellva run but I've got business
to attend to and this game is finally over. For the last time put down your gun. Omar, he's got
three seconds."
Face, Murdock, and BA were on the fringe of the tree line just east of the rural farm road they'd
been following for the past hour. Face turned to whisper to BA, who was staring at the monitor
in his hand, "Are you sure this is the right place?"
Growling, "Ya sucka, Hannibal's in the house." He pointed to the farm house approximately
one-hundred feet in front of them. They could clearly see pairs of men walking around with
various rifles patrolling the grounds.
Silently cursing the fact that it was only 3:30pm so it wouldn't be dark for several more hours,
Face began devising a plan to go and rescue their missing leader. So far it had been one of the
worst days of Face's adult life. The morning had started with Face being kidnaped right outside
the house the team was using for it's latest job. He'd been monumentally pissed at being caught
unawares but it was a tame reaction in comparison to Hannibal's response.
The intrepid colonel had been livid at the mocking phone call from Tommy Johnston, the local
hood, who had been using illegal immigrant workers for slave labor. The team had been hired to
put the ring out of business. Johnston, a former sergeant in the army had had a few run-ins with
Col. Smith. There was no love loss between the two men and Johnston decided the best way to
get rid of the team was to use the suave conman as a means of controlling Hannibal. An exchange
was agreed upon, reluctantly by Murdock and BA, Face for Hannibal. All things considered it
had gone off fairly well with Face dumped, tied up next to his corvette that Hannibal had been
driving and Hannibal thrown into Johnston's van. The guns pointing at both men prevented HM
and BA from attempting any kind of intervention. The transmitter sewn into Smith's jacket led
the team right to Johnston's private farm surrounded by armed gunmen.
Peck longed to go settle the account with the man who had used him to get to Hannibal but knew
that their only chance to rescue the colonel would be under the cover of darkness. So the three
men scouted patrol routes and the number of guards just itching for the opportunity to put this
lowlife out of business. Hoping that by waiting a couple of hours after dark to lull the guards into
a false sense of security the three remaining team members made their move.
It was just like an old infiltration operation in Vietnam. BA and Murdock worked as a pair to
take out the four patrol units undetected while Face snuck into the house and got Hannibal
without being noticed. Fear that gunfire would result in Johnston just killing Hannibal made them
extra cautious. Light escaping from the cellar doors gave the conman a logical place to start his
search.
Face had lost his .357 to Johnston earlier and settled for a spare Browning 9mm and a smaller Uzi
rather than his usual fully automatic Ruger Mini-14. They'd been picked up long ago for
emergency purposes, but no one had ever needed them until now.
At nine o'clock, almost two hours after sunset, Face had skirted the tree line around to the back
part of the house. The distance was much shorter and the back porch light was either out or unlit.
It was darker on this side of the house and Face was able to traverse the thirty feet to the
backdoor unnoticed. Peering in the window revealed that no one was in the formal living room or
hallway. He picked the lock easily and slipped inside, listening for voices. Not hearing anything
Face moved toward the kitchen. It was empty as well but a door, either the basement or pantry
was partially open. Edging into the room Face listened intently for any clue what was on the
other side. Pushing the door open slowly, a set of stairs led down. Cautiously Face started down
praying that the wooden steps would not creak and give away his advantage.
Four steps from the bottom Face could distinctly hear Johnston's voice taunting Hannibal.
"The mighty John Smith reduced to a pathetic whipping boy. If only the army could see you
now." The biting words were accompanied by the swish of a bamboo cane slicing the air and
subsequent thwack of it's impact on Hannibal's back. A grunt of pain and disorientation was
Smith's only reply.
"Come now Colonel, this isn't nearly as much fun if you don't yell." Thwack! "You're not nearly
so powerful or intimidating as I remember. In fact you and the A-Team have rather disappointed
me." Thwack! "Ah well, good entertainment is so hard to find. It's almost a shame to have to
kill you."
Face took the last few steps down the stairs in a hurry, no longer concerned about making too
much noise. "I wouldn't bet money on that if I were you Johnston." Pointing the 9mm in his right
hand at the other man. "Put down the cane or I'll put you down."
Ignoring the order Johnston smirked, "I'm impressed Peck. I didn't expect to see you again until
after I'd dumped his body on your doorstep. How did you find us so soon?"
Glaring, "You're not nearly as smart as you think Tommy. I could smell your stench miles away.
Step back from the table real slowly."
Johnston bristled at the insult, but controlled himself. "Actually I kinda like it here. Besides it
will be far more fun to beat Smith to death with you watching. I've always wondered what Smith
saw in a two bit hustler like you. What is it Colonel? Is Peck just too nice a piece of ass for you
to pass up?"
The former Lieutenant's visage darkened as he cocked the hammer on his pistol. "Back away
from him Johnston." The gun never wavered as Templeton took a step towards the table the
older man was strapped on. "Hannibal, you okay?"
Glancing at his commanding officer out of the corner of his eye Face could see that the older man
was in bad shape. Stripped to the waist Smith's back appeared to be one big bruise with various
cuts and abrasions also marring the skin. Rivulets of blood puddled on the otherwise bare
wooden table. On the back of his head was an obvious knot with dried blood staining his hair and
leaving a path down his neck. When no response came Face's worry escalated.
"I said step away from the table Johnston." The conman spat angrily.
Smirking, "I don't think so Peck. Really, the fun's just beginning. He's unconscious now so I only
have your reactions to judge by." He pulled back the cain a little to see what younger man would
do.
"You try and swing that cain again and I'll kill you." The dark words more a promise than a
threat.
Gleefully, "I don't think so. Why don't you look to your left and say hello to my partner Omar
Hernandez. That twelve-gauge he's carrying could make things real messy for both of you." Face
silently cursed, berating himself for forgetting about the stairwell behind him. He could clearly
see the other man now in the corner of his eye.
He had no idea exactly how much time had passed since he entered the house. BA and Murdock
could be anywhere, making it unrealistic to expect them to come and save his sorry ass.
Hannibal's life lay in the balance and for once the conman wasn't sure how the hell to get the both
of them out of this situation.
"Not so much fun is it Peck. Put the gun down now!" Johnston ordered.
Trying to buy time and think of some way out of this impossible scenario, "No. I put the gun
down and you kill both of us. You tell Hernandez to put his gun down before I kill you."
Enjoying the upper hand, sneering, "Cold blooded murder isn't your style conman. I know your
reputation and execution isn't on your list of traits. Besides if you shoot me Omar will kill you
and Smith both. Or if you try and disable Omar he'll kill you and then I'll kill Smith. You came
here to save him didn't you? That's not very likely if you keep that gun pointed toward me. Drop
it or I'll make him beg for me to kill him."
Shit! Hannibal, why aren't you awake to tell me what the hell I should do? I can't...I won't sit
here and watch him beat you. I did that at the camps and I swore to myself that I would never
stand by and willfully watch one of you guys tortured again. Jesus, I can see the gleam in
Tommy's eye, he'll kill us both if I put down this gun and wait for BA and Murdock to show up.
He knows BA'll come running when he hears that shotgun blast.
Don't get ahead of yourself. First things first Templeton, make sure Hannibal's not in the line of
that shotgun. Keep'em occupied with what I'm saying, not what I'm doing. "You really are
delusional Tommy if you think Hannibal would beg you for anything. You're just a pissant
amateur who's gotten in way over his head." Slowly Face stepped backwards and to his right
making sure to keep 9mm pointed directly between Johnston's eyes. He continued to talk as he
shuffled further away from both Omar and Hannibal. "Do you honestly think you're going to get
away with all this? Those are people you're using Tommy, not some fourteenth century feudal
beast of burden you're selling to the lords of the kingdom. I'm only sorry I won't get to see your
face when they lock you up in a cell for the rest of your life." With smugness dripping from every
word, "The irony is delicious don't you think? You two will be serving twenty to life while the
A-Team is still free. God bless America."
Across the room Johnston is practically vibrating with anger and hate. Snarling, "The only cell
you're going to see Peck is six feet deep, cause that's where you'll end up when I send Colonel
Decker, you, in a body bag. You're time is up Peck. You made a hellva run but I've got business
to attend to and this game is finally over. For the last time put down your gun. Omar, he's got
three seconds."