A4 Simple Dreams and Flying Machines

by KennaC

Sequel to Mad Season: Nancy and Murdock are both stretched pretty thin, and things aren't about to improve when Nancy brings home a couple of stray . . . kids, that is. What could make things any more hectic?

5. Part 5

Resolving Some Problems – Discovering New Ones

The next day, Jazz called and asked if Callie and Jack could come with her and Terra to the children's museum in DC, hoping the activity would take her mind off of Kennedy's release. School was going to start soon, and she figured an educational day at the Museum would help get the kids in the right frame of mind.

Nancy had some errands she needed to run, including a stop at the police station to talk to Brett. So, after dropping the kids off with Jasmine, she headed into the Langley PD.

"Hey, Brett," Nancy said, walking up to his desk, "You got a few minutes to talk?"

Brett stood up, "Anything for a beautiful lady," he said, grinning, "Let's go find an empty conference room."

In the conference room, Brett closed the door and took and seat at the table with Nancy, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Nancy had pulled her case book out and flipped it open, "What can you tell me about Constantine Smith?"

Brett's jaw tensed, "I hate it when you start askin' me questions like that . . . why do you wanna know?"

"Let's call it curiosity," she said with a shrug.

"Killed the cat . . ."

"C'mon, Brett, you're a public servant – serve me up some info."

"Well, you know, it's funny you should ask about Con – see we have reason to believe that he's in tight with Kennedy," Brett said looking at her intently.

It was Nancy's turn to tense, "OK . . ."

Brett let her stew for a minute, then sat forward, "Con Smith was a small-time hood, until about 4 months ago," he looked at Nancy pointedly, then continued, "He started taking over Kennedy's east side territory, which was turning heads in the local mob circles, but nobody was making a move. We'd managed to get hold of Con's old partner, and were in the process of getting him to turn states evidence . . ." Brett paused.

"Is he dead?" Nancy asked.

Brett shook his head, "Nope, but all of a sudden he clammed up tight. He disappeared for a few days, and when he reappeared, he wasn't talkin'. I don't know how Con got to him, but I'm sure he did. Anyway, before the silent treatment, Ledley told us that Con was trying to find somebody that would take on the Murdock contract – said that Kennedy was making it very attractive."

"Word on the street is that Con's found a taker, Nancy," Brett said earnestly, "That's why it's so important for you to have protection."

"Don't worry, the Ables aren't letting me out of their sight," Nancy said, tapping her pen on the case book, "Any word on who's taken the contract?"

Brett shook his head, "Nope, all the narks are clammed up – apparently, the threat is that if you talk to the cops you're gonna get the 'Ledley treatment' – whatever that is."

"Ledley's messed up pretty bad?"

"Not a mark on him, that I could see," Brett said.

"Strange," Nancy said thoughtfully.

"Tell me about it," Brett said, "I had Ledley in here for a whole day trying to figure out what the hell happened. I couldn't get anywhere."

They sat quietly for a minute, when Nancy suddenly blurted, "Brett, when are you going to tell Jazz about you and Les?"

Brett grunted and crossed his arms, "Not that it's really any of your business, but, I plan on telling her tonight," he said, then shook his head and sighed, "I've been trying to come up with a way to let her down easy and every time I've gotten close, something happens and I don't do it. I don't want to hurt her . . ."

"I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to be nosey . . ."

"Yes you did," he said with a knowing smile, "You can't help but be nosey. It's in your nature."

Nancy looked at him, ready to argue, but decided against it, "It's just – Jazz is vulnerable right now and I don't want to see her slip back into her old life-style."

"Why do you think it's taking me so long," Brett said irritably, though Nancy took it as irritation at the situation, "If you hadn't pushed me into taking her out, I wouldn't be in this position."

Nancy looked at him in surprise, "I pushed you? I don't think that's fair."

"All because that husband of yours can't stand it when I'm around," Brett said petulantly, "What, did you really think he'd get over it if I had a girlfriend?"

"You're the one that causes the problems," Nancy said angrily, "You're always doing something to egg HM on – and trust me he doesn't need any incentive where you're concerned."

Brett was smiling at her like the cat that swallowed the canary and Nancy sighed, she had risen to his bait, "It was all so long ago, I can't figure out why he can't just let it go . . ."

Brett's smile faded, "It may have been a long time ago, but sometimes . . . sometimes, when I see you, it feels like just yesterday," Brett said candidly, "especially after what happened with Kennedy."

"What happened with Kennedy wasn't anything like that . . .," she said sharply, trying to convince herself, as well as Brett.

"But it could have been," Brett interrupted, "And don't tell me that you haven't thought about it. Joe told me you've been having the nightmares again."

Nancy stood and paced, "It's my problem, Brett, not yours."

"Damn it, Nan, when are you going to understand that what happened didn't just happen to you," Brett said impatiently, "It happened . . . happens, to everyone around you – everyone who cares about you is affected. You can't just hope it'll go away, because it doesn't. It sits inside and it festers until it tears everything apart. I let you do that to me, and as much as it pains me to admit it - I don't want to see you do it to Murdock."

"Nothing is going to tear Murdock and me apart," Nancy said quietly, "It's an entirely different situation . . ."

Brett walked around in front of her, and looked her in the eye, "If that's the case, then why haven't you ever told him about what happened with Carson?" he asked directly.

Nancy looked at him in surprise, "It just never really . . . came up," she said weakly.

"Bull shit," he said vehemently, "I know it had to come up, otherwise why would he be asking Joe about it?"

Nancy's jaw dropped, "HM talked to Joe about Carson?"

"Yes, and Joe told him everything," Brett said, "He thought your husband had a right to know."

"Jesus," Nancy breathed, "When?"

Brett turned back to the table, "Couple days ago . . . I take it flyboy hasn't talked to you about it?"

Nancy shook her head in disbelief, "Why didn't he just come and ask me?"

Brett looked at her with a slight shake of the head, "My guess is he probably tried."

Brett turned and walked out of the door, throwing over his shoulder, "You should go home . . . and talk to your husband."

Murdock had just returned from a flight lesson with Steve, who had managed to negotiate a temporary leave from the grocery business for while Doc was away, "Basically, Dad told me that if this was really what I wanted to do, then I should give it a chance. But he also said that if I decided to go back to the grocery store I could. Guess he's decided he can't force me into anything, but the guilt thing sure does work."

"You gotta make your own life, Steve," Murdock said understandingly, "But what you decide has a definite impact on your folks. Just remember, that what they want more than anything is for you to be happy – so make sure that you don't do something just for somebody else. That includes your Dad and me!"

Steve smiled, "Dad said basically the same thing, only he threw in the financial security thing."

Murdock chuckled, "Definitely a consideration, but not the end-all, be-all . . ." Murdock's voice trailed off as he noticed that Nancy was sitting in the office, "Steve-o - if you have things covered here – I've got a visitor."

"Sure thing, Murdock."

He entered the office, "Hey Short Cake," he said, leaning down with his hands on her shoulders and kissing her cheek, "This is a nice surprise . . ."

Nancy looked up, and the expression on her face stopped him, "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly as he sat down slowly in the adjacent office chair.

Nancy looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap, "You . . . know . . . about . . . Andrew Carson . . ." she said slowly, looking at him with an expression somewhere between accusation and fear.

Murdock looked her directly in the eyes, "Yes . . . I . . . do," he mimicked her tone perfectly.

She hesitated before asking, "Why did you go to Joe? Why didn't you just ask me?"

"I think you know the answer to that," he said, sitting back, and trying to carefully gage her state of mind.

"But you never asked me specifically about Carson," she looked at him thoughtfully, "and just how did you know to ask about Carson, anyway?"

Murdock ignored the second part of her statement, choosing to try to lighten the mood somewhat, "Now that is two semester's of Law school talkin'."

He succeeded somewhat, as she relaxed, a little, "That . . . and being the daughter of a lawyer," she agreed with a slight smile, then looked at him with raised eyebrows, "But you still didn't answer my question . . ."

He shifted in his chair, "I, uh, I found your . . . nightmare log. And sorta . . . read it," he admitted ruefully.

Nancy's gaze became unfocused, wondering how he had found that, then she remembered, "I did leave it out the other night," she said, adding thoughtfully, "Maybe subconsciously I wanted you to find it . . ."

"I thought you weren't a Freud Fan," Murdock said, smiling.

She shrugged, "I think the whole penis envy thing is a crock of shit. But some of his other theories aren't without merit."

They sat quietly again, until Nancy broke the silence, "What did Joe tell you?"

"Not much," Murdock said with a shrug, then looked at her, "But a heck of a lot more than you have," he sighed, "I thought about trying to pry some more out of Trixie, but she refused to talk to me about it at all."

"It wouldn't have done you any good," she said, "Trix doesn't know any more about it than Joe does."

Murdock looked at her in surprise, then understanding dawned, she really hadn't talked to anyone about it, "Trixie did say that your father doesn't even know . . ."

She looked at him, and he could see the stark terror reflected in her eyes. She suddenly stood, crossing her arms so it looked almost like she was hugging herself, "Nobody knows what happened," she said quietly, gazing unfocusedly out into the bay, "It was between me and Andrew Carson."

She shrugged, "I would have told you, eventually."

"Are you sure about that?"

She was caught off guard, "I think so . . .," then she looked at him directly, her voice challenging, "So, now that you know, do you feel sorry for me?"

He returned the direct gaze, he knew that was a loaded question, "No, I don't feel sorry for you," he said easily, "I do feel sorry for what happened . . . kind of."

The last part caught Nancy's attention, "Kind of?"

Murdock shrugged, "Well, the way I figure it, if this hadn't happened, you'd probably still be with Katt, and I wouldn't have even gotten a shot. Purely selfish on my part, you understand," he looked up at her, smiling tenderly.

Her face relaxed into a smile, "As I've told you," she responded with amusement, "there was no one defining reason why Brett and I broke up. Though I have to admit that the Andrew Carson thing probably ended it a lot more quickly and cleanly that it would have ended otherwise. Trust me, it still would have ended."

Nancy was quiet for a few moments, "Did you tell Hannibal?"

He clenched his jaw, "I didn't tell Hannibal . . ."

"He already knew," Nancy said nodding her head, "No surprise there. He doesn't let much get by him. What about Face and BA?"

Murdock looked at her repentantly, "I had to talk to somebody, Nan."

"I guess it had to come out eventually," she said resignedly.

Murdock took that admission as an invitation, "I wonder if you could explain one thing to me . . ."

"Just one?" she asked facetiously.

"Well, OK, let's call it a place to start," he said, then looked at her curiously, "Why did you leave the FBI – that seems . . . out of character."

Nancy's eyes flashed at the mention of the FBI, "I didn't have any choice," she said irritably, "Do you know how many women worked at the Bureau when I started there? When this happened, they started acting like . . . like I couldn't do my job. If I'd stayed, I would have been a paper-pusher the rest of my life. I couldn't do that – I didn't want that."

Murdock nodded in understanding, "and Riley – I'm guessing he took the whole thing in stride."

Nancy nodded, "Riley didn't give a shit what had happened to me – he told me so when I interviewed – of course it had been all over the papers, so he knew who I was," she smiled at the memory, "At the end of the interview, I was laying it on thick, you know, top of my class at Quantico, psych degree, law classes, I could do anything, but the truth was I really needed the job. My departure from the FBI was rather . . . sudden, and I was running out of money. He told me, and I quote 'I don't give a shit if you're the next fuckin' Sherlock Holmes – PI work sucks, and to be good at it you gotta be persistent. You must be pretty fuckin' persistent if you wanna keep in this kinda business after what you been through.'"

"It was his way of offering me the job," she said with a shrug, "Riley was the only one who didn't treat me like I was broken," she added quietly, "It was what I needed to get me through . . . the worst of it."

Nancy hugged herself, and looked out the window again, "I thought I'd dealt with it, but I guess when Kennedy grabbed me it brought it all back to the surface," she admitted, "I've been trying some of the tricks that the shrink taught me as a kid . . . so far none of it seems to be helping, much."

"Maybe what you really need to do is just talk about it," Murdock suggested tentatively.

Nancy didn't look convinced, "Maybe . . . I'm just not sure I'm ready."

"You gotta trust me that once you have you'll feel a lot better," he said earnestly, "You don't have to do it all at once, but whenever you feel up to it, you know I'm here – and I understand what you're going through."

Nancy smiled at him, "I know, trust me, I know – I just don't think I'm really ready."

Murdock stood up and walked over to her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly, "You know, you're the bravest woman I've ever met," he said sincerely.

Nancy chuckled, "Hardly brave – I haven't even had the guts to tell my husband about the whole thing," she looked up at him apologetically.

"It's OK, Nan . . ."

But she continued, "Do you remember our first date . . ."

"You mean Charlie's . . ." he asked.

"Before that . . ." she was smiling, "You came to pick me up with a fist full of daisies and we talked while I was putting them in water . . ."

"Uh, yea, I remember . . ."

"I never told you how impressed I was that you brought up your residency at the VA so . . . quickly," she pointed at his chest, "That is what I consider brave."

"Well, if we're going to lay all our cards on the table," he said ruefully, "I did that out of pure terror . . . I wanted to make sure, if you were going to reject me, it was before I became too attached. I'd made that mistake once and I wasn't gonna repeat it!"

"And since you brought it up," he continued, looking at her lovingly, "Your response to that little revelation was what landed me, hook, line and sinker."

They kissed lingeringly, then Nancy gave him a final peck on the lips and pulled away, glancing up at the clock, "We gotta pick the kids up at Blanche's at 4 – will you be done here by then?"

"Yep, Steve's gonna watch things for the rest of the day," Murdock said, letting her go reluctantly, "I'll stop by home and pick you up about 3:30?"

"OK," she said, stopping with a hand on the doorknob, "and HM, thanks for not pushing it."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, "Sure thing, Short Cake. Just remember, I'm here if you change your mind about talking."

She nodded acknowledgement, and smiled as she left, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he responded.

Callie was enthralled by the practical demonstrations of Bernoulli's equation and the application to flight. She'd been poring through the literature available in the displays, and had fallen behind Jazz, Terra and Jack. The display was in a corner of a large room, where there were practical demonstrations of many of the more famous physical phenomena formulae. She was alone, but suddenly got the eerie feeling that she was being watched and turned, catching a brief glimpse of someone slipping behind an adjacent display. She shook her head, deciding quickly that she was imagining things as Jazz came walking around the corner and motioned to her, "C'mon, Cal, we're gonna head to the Deep Sea Room – Jack really wants to see the fish."

The Deep Sea Room lay in the middle of a maze of rough, eerily lighted winding halls that were reminiscent of underwater caves and reefs. Inside the room there was an enclosed submarine display with portals for looking into the central marine display from below, deep sea robot demonstrations with operational robots that could be controlled from various locations around the central marine display, and an exploratory vessel that you could enter and ride down into the marine display.

When they reached the main part of the room, Jazz, Terra, and Jack immediately got in line for the ride, which was where almost everyone in the room was. Callie declined, she'd never liked closed places, and the thought of getting in that little thing and going underwater really didn't appeal to her. Instead she headed to the submarine display, which was pretty much deserted.

She was watching as a robot was manipulated by someone out of her sight, trying to pick up a coin. She had been studying how the robot maneuvered, and was itching to get her own hands on the control. She turned to leave the display, and was unpleasantly surprised to find the two exits from the submarine both blocked, and Cuttey standing there, smirking at her, "Well, if it isn't Nee's little girl," he said quietly, "How are you Callie?"

Callie gritted her teeth, looking vainly for a way out. She walked towards the nearest door, but Cuttey blocked her way and grabbed her arm, "Now, not so fast, little girl . . ."

She looked at him fearfully, "What do you want from me? Why are you here?"

"Well, you see, it just so happens that you have something that I want . . ."

Callie's brow furrowed, "I don't got nothin' . . ."

"Ah, but you see that's not true," Cuttey said smoothly, "You've got the Murdock's as foster parents . . ."

She stiffened - what could Cuttey possibly have to do with HM and Nancy?

He didn't leave her in suspense, as there was periodically a thump on one or the other of the doors, and it wouldn't be long before that raised suspicion, "I need to come to the house, sometime when only the man is present – no visitors and no woman, just HM Murdock – do you understand?"

Callie shook her head, "Why . . ."

"It doesn't matter to you why," Cuttey said pointedly, "What matters to you is what'll happen to you and your little brother if you don't do as I say."

"Here," he handed her a card with a phone number on it, "Sometime, soon, when you happen to be home alone with the man, call this number," he shook her to emphasize his point, "I mean soon, and don't tell nobody. I'll be watching, count on it, and if you don't do what I say, not only will you and your brother pay, but so will your Ma, got it?"

Callie nodded miserably, "But you won't hurt HM will you?"

Cuttey laughed, roughly shoving her aside, "Just do as I say, and you won't get hurt," he said warningly, then disappeared out the door.

Callie rubbed her arm where Cuttey had been gripping it, feeling tears sting her eyes. Just when she was getting comfortable and starting to allow herself to relax, something always happened to screw it up.

She didn't see any sign of Cuttey when she left the submarine. Jazz, Terra and Jack were coming down off the ride, and Jack came running over to her without a care in the world, "Cal, you shoulda seen it – it was sooo cool," he said, bouncing excitedly around her.

Callie nodded, "Glad you enjoyed it, Jackie," she said, thinking, 'Better not get used to the good life, kiddo, looks like we're gonna have to run again.' Unfortunately, she had no idea where her Mother was, and if they ran, there was no telling what Cuttey would do to her. This was going to take some thought.

Nancy and HM arrived at Blanche's around 3:50, to find that Jazz was already home. She came out of the little neighborhood row house and greeted them, "The kids were terrific – I didn't have to scold them even once," she said happily.

"You must have come home a little early," Nancy observed, "I was kinda worried . . ."

Jazz shrugged, "Callie was acting kinda like she didn't feel too good this afternoon," she said, "Mighta just been lunch didn't agree with her, but I didn't want to chance it, so I brought 'em home about 2:30. We still had a good four hours at the Museum, probably enough for one day anyway!"

HM was looking to the little back yard, which was filled with a trampoline. Terra and Jack were bouncing and playing while Callie sat quietly aside and watched.

Jazz followed his gaze and nodded, "She's been like that most of the afternoon – kind of withdrawn," she said worriedly, "Hopefully it's just a little upset belly . . ."

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Jazz," Murdock said, "She's had a heck of a couple weeks, and I think she's still adjusting."

Nancy nodded agreement, "And thanks for taking Cal and Jack with you today, Jazz. I'm sure they really enjoyed it."

Jazz smiled, "Well, I know Terra appreciates the company and she and Callie seem to get along so well . . . they were no trouble at all, really."

As they talked they had moved to the back yard, "Hey, guys," Murdock called, getting Callie and Jack's attention, "It's about time for us to get going. We're gonna go get some pizza for supper then we'll see Jazz and Terra later at the LCC."

Jazz looked at Nancy solicitously, "You're sure you're up to practice tonight?"

Nancy grinned, "Actually, I can't wait. I'm not even gonna bring my guitar – I'll just let the kids do all the work."

Murdock put an arm around her shoulders, "But we did agree that you're gonna cut practice short – only an hour tonight, at the most."

"An hour is about all I can take," Nancy said, grinning, "It's tough keepin' up with those kids!"

Callie and Jack had disappeared upstairs as soon as they'd arrived home after supper, at which Callie had barely touched her food. This left Nancy and Murdock to their own devices. Murdock had ended up on the phone with Steve at the airfield, going over some things that Steve wasn't sure how to handle. So Nancy had pulled out her practice tape and headphones and sat in the living room humming quietly to herself with sheet music laid in front of her, as she learned some of the new material that Jazz was working on with the kids.

Murdock came up behind her, "What song is that – I don't recognize it . . ." he said putting his hands on her shoulders and looking curiously in her lap.

Nancy gathered up the sheets and held them against her chest, shaking her head, "Uh uh – it's a new one that I've been trying to learn. I think I'm ready to practice it tonight. It seems oddly appropriate, especially after today . . ."

"What do ya mean?" he asked curiously.

"You'll just have to listen tonight and see for yourself."

He patted her shoulders, sometimes it seemed like Nancy thought in song, "Well, if we're gonna go, we better round the kids up and head out – it's almost 7:30."

Upstairs, Jack was in Callie's room. She had taken a break from working on Nancy's 'homework', and the pages with 'I will never point a gun at a living thing that I do not intend to kill' were scattered all across her bed. Jack was sitting by her, with one of the sheets in his hand, watching her carefully inventory the supplies she'd been able to gather since she'd been here, two boxes worth of poptarts, a box of bandaids, several bottles of clean water she'd salvaged from the trash and cleaned and refilled, cans of various vegetables and beans, and a few fresh apples and oranges.

Jack fidgeted, "Cal, we don't have to leave, do we?"

Callie started carefully packing the supplies away into a bag and stashing them into the back of the wardrobe, "Not right now, but it's always good to be prepared," she said matter-of-factly.

Jack crossed his arms and pouted, "I don' wanna go anywhere. I like it here with HM and Nan – they're nice!"

"I like 'em, too," Callie admitted, "But sometimes things happen . . . we gotta be ready."

"Ready for what?" Jack asked petulantly.

"I don't know, Jackie . . ." Callie said looking out the window, "Hopefully nothing."

"Jack, Callie," Murdock called up the stairs, "C'mon guys, we gotta get goin'."

"We're comin'," Callie called down. She grabbed Jack's arm and looked at him severely, "Don't go tellin' Nan or HM about this – Promise me – pinky swear."

"OK, Cal," Jack said quietly, hooking the offered pinky with his own, "I promise."

They arrived at the LCC a little early. Terra came bounding up, and dragged a still-mopey Callie back to sit with the other kids, with Jack tagging along behind.

Nancy sighed, "Jazz is right," she said to Murdock, "Something is up with Cal, she's downright sullen tonight."

"Don't worry, Short Cake," Murdock said lightly, "She'll snap out of it with a good night's sleep."

"I suppose," Nancy said uncertainly. She wandered up to the stage, where Jazz was setting up her synthesizer, and seemed to be getting frustrated with an uncooperative cord. She suddenly smacked a fist into the side of the synthesizer and Nancy reached down and took the cord from her, pushing it easily into place.

Jazz looked at the cord accusingly, then glanced up at Nancy. Her eyes were watery and it dawned on Nancy that Brett had finally talked to her. She took Jazz's hand, "C'mon, let's go talk."

"It's almost time for practice . . .," Jazz protested weakly.

Nancy didn't even acknowledge Jazz's comment, just led her to Char's office, where Char was working on some end-of-the-day filing. She looked up curiously as Nancy and Jazz entered, and Nancy shut the door.

Nancy sighed as she turned and looked at Jazz, whose eyes were turning red, "Go on, Jazz, let it out," she said matter-of-factly.

Jazz's face crumpled, as she dropped into the nearest chair and started balling.

Char stepped around the desk, "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"Brett . . . doesn't want . . . to see me anymore," Jazz said between sobs.

Char picked up the tissue box on her desk and held it out to Jazz, "It'll be OK, Jazz," she said soothingly, "Brett doesn't realize what he's lettin' go," she smoothed Jazz's hair and looked at Nancy questioningly.

"I'm sorry, Jazz," Nancy said quietly, "But you deserve to have somebody that's gonna love you – and obviously Brett isn't that person. Somebody better'll come along."

Jazz sat back, shaking her head. The sobs were gone, but tears were still running down her face, "Who's gonna want an ex-junky with a kid?" she asked miserably, "Obviously Brett didn't. What makes you think anybody else will?"

"Honey, nobody around here thinks of you as an ex-junky. Everybody makes mistakes in their lives," Char crouched and looked intently into Jazz's eyes, "Those mistakes don't define you, they shape the unique and wonderful person you are. Trust me, some great guy is gonna come along that can't resist that. You just need to be patient."

"Charlotte's absolutely right, Jazz," Nancy said, "Somebody will come along that will love you exactly because of the things in your life that you've overcome . . ."

The tears had stopped and Jazz wiped her face and blew her nose, then looked up at Char and Nancy gratefully, "Thanks, guys," she said sincerely, "I really appreciate it. It's just, Brett was the first guy that's even given me a second look since . . . well, you know. I've always hated the dating scene. Guess I was hoping I wouldn't have to go there again."

"I know what you're saying, Jazz," Nancy said with a sympathetic smile, "But you'll find somebody – probably in the most unexpected place. Just give it some time."

Jazz nodded and stood up, giving first Char and then Nancy a hug, "Thanks, really. I think I'm gonna hit the bathroom to freshen up a little before practice."

As Jazz left the room, Char turned to Nancy, "That damn Brett, anyway," she said irritably, shaking her head.

"You know we don't choose who we fall in love with, Char," Nancy said, feeling a need to defend Brett, "He didn't leave Jazz 'cause she's an ex-junky – he fell for somebody else. It happens."

Char raised an eyebrow, then she smacked her forehead, "Leslie, huh?" she asked, and when Nancy nodded, "I thought somethin' was goin' on there. Well, I hope they keep it quiet for a little while. I don't think Jazz needs that hanging out there too blatantly too quick."

Nancy nodded agreement, "Yea, I think Brett and Les will be discrete for awhile – they both like Jazz. That's what made it so hard."

About 5 minutes later they were back on stage and setting up again.

Murdock came up behind Nancy and put a hand at the small of her back, "Everything OK?" he asked, glancing over at Jazz who was setting mics for the horn players.

Nancy stood, stretching her back, "Yea – Jazz'll be alright. She just needed to let go," she said quietly.

Jazz turned and started towards them. Murdock leaned down and kissed Nancy on the cheek, "I'll get outta the way and let you get ready for practice . . . you holdin' up OK?"

Nancy smiled up at him, "I'm fine," they kissed again then Murdock walked off-stage.

Jazz looked after him, then turned to Nancy, "I hope I find somebody that loves me half as much as HM loves you," she said whimsically.

Nancy looked at her thoughtfully, "I hope you do, too, Jazz."

"You ready?" Jazz asked.

"Yea," Nancy said, "I was thinking maybe we could start with Push. I've been working on it and I think I'm ready."

"Sounds like as good a place as any . . ."

They all got set, playing a few chords and making sure everyone was in tune and ready to go, then started the Matchbox20 song:

She said, I don't know if I've ever been good enough,

I'm a little bit rusty.

And I think my head is cavin' in.

And I don't know if I've ever been really loved,

By a hand that's touched me.

And I feel like somethin's gonna give

And I'm a little bit angry.

Well . . .

This ain't over, no not here,

Not while I still need you around.

You don't owe me, we might change, yea.

Yea, we just might feel good.

I wanna push you around, well I will, well I will.

I wanna push you down, well I will, well I will.

I wanna take you for granted.

I wanna take you for granted, yea, yea, well I will.

I will.

He said, I don't know why you ever would lie to me

Like I'm a little untrusting.

When I think that the truth is gonna hurt ya.

And I don't know why you couldn't just stay with me

You couldn't stand to be near me

When my face don't seem to wanna shine

Cuz it's a little bit dirty.

Well . . .

Don't just stand there, say nice things to me.

I've been cheated, I've been wronged.

You . . . you don't know me

I can't change . . .

I won't do anything at all.

I wanna push you around, well I will, well I will.

I wanna push you down, well I will, well I will.

I wanna take you for granted, yea.

I wanna take you for granted, yea, yea, well I will.

Oh, but don't bowl me over

Just wait a minute, well it kinda fell apart

Things get so crazy, crazy.

Don't rush this baby.

Don't rush this baby, baby.

I wanna push you around, well I will, well I will.

I wanna push you down, well I will, well I will.

I wanna take you for granted, yea, yea, yea.

I wanna take you, take you, yea, well I will . . .

I will.

Nancy's eyes found Murdock and they gazed at each other, her look apologetic, his a little sad but understanding – coming to the silent understanding that everything was going to be OK . . . eventually.

They played several more songs, but did wrap up practice early.

As they were packing up, Jazz stopped Nancy, "I forgot with everything else . . . I wanted to thank you for the surveillance. It makes me feel a lot better knowing that there's someone keeping an eye on us," she shook her head, "It really freaked me out when I heard Grant was being released. How could that happen?"

Nancy smiled and patted her arm, "It'll be OK, Jazz," she said, "I think Kennedy will be smarter than to come near you," at least personally, she thought to herself. She'd talked talked to Zeb about the Able detail watching Jazz. He had started them on a routine sweep of her car, before travel, and her house, whenever she returned. He'd been concerned about Jazz going to the museum, but in the end, being such a public place, they had decided it was probably a safe outing.

"Just remember, Jazz," Nancy said seriously, "the fact that you're being surveilled doesn't relieve you of a responsibility to be careful. You and Terra, both, OK?"

"We'll be careful, Nan," she said certainly, "You need to be careful, too."

Nancy yawned uncontrollably as they closed the door to Jack's room, "I'm ready for bed, myself. How about you?"

Murdock grinned, "I'm always ready to go to bed with you, Short Cake!"

Within 20 minutes they were laying in bed winding down. Murdock was saying goodnight to the twins, who were active, as usual, upon hearing their father's voice.

He finally lay down next to Nancy, letting one hand rest on her belly, feeling the comforting squirming of the twins under his fingers. Nancy was lying looking down, where every once in a while the movement was large enough to see, a contented smile on her face.

Murdock brought a hand up and stroked her cheek, and Nancy looked at him and smiled, "I really enjoy these quiet times just before we fall asleep," she said happily.

"Me, too," he agreed, but his thoughts were wandering. He was glad that the whole Carson thing was out in the open now, but he was wondering how well he really knew the woman lying next to him. He sighed, his smile fading.

Nancy looked at him curiously, "What's wrong?"

He shrugged, "Nothing's wrong really . . ."

She prodded him, "C'mon, give . . ."

He looked into the curious sky-blue eyes regarding him in the glow of the moonlight coming through the window, and answered truthfully, "I just can't believe that there is something so . . . big, that happened in your life that I wouldn't even have a clue about . . ."

Nancy's smile disappeared, too, "It isn't exactly something that comes up in every day conversation, HM. It wasn't like I was hiding it from you . . ."

"Then what was it, Nan . . . I mean I can understand that it's not a normal topic of conversation, but with everything that's happened in the last few months, I would have thought you'd mention it. It's not like I didn't give you opportunity . . ."

"You know, HM, I've never pressed you about what happened in the POW camp . . ."

"But at least you know about it!" he argued.

"And what about before that?" she asked, "Before the A-Team, before you joined the Army? What went on then?"

"CIA, you know, the Air America stuff – I've told you about it," he spoke lightly, but Nancy held up a hand.

"Yea – CIA – I know . . . I also know there's more to it than what you've ever talked about. Air America may have been where you started, but your involvement was beyond that," her eyes glittered in the dim light, as she looked at him shrewdly, "I know there's far more to your work at the CIA than just some innocent flyer dropping and gun smuggling."

Murdock stared at the ceiling in silence, and Nancy pressed again, "C'mon, Murdock – what's the story – what aren't you telling me?"

He looked at her uncomfortably, but didn't answer.

"I'll tell you what . . .," she said, sitting up and speaking earnestly, "I'll tell you everything significant that ever happened in my life until the day I met you, and you can do the same . . ."

"Is there something else I don't know about?" he interrupted incredulously.

Nancy considered the question seriously, "Not that I can think of at the moment," she said slowly, then smiled slyly at him, "But I do tend to block."

"Don't play that game with me, Nancy Clay Murdock, I know it better than anybody," he said seriously, then shook his head dejectedly, "It's just that I thought I knew you better than this."

She reached out and touched his cheek, "You know me better than anyone else, HM," she said certainly, "You may not know my autobiography by heart, but you know me. I'm more than the sum of the things that have happened to me – Char said it to Jazz tonight, the things that happen to us don't define us, they shape who we are. What's important is who I am now. The rest is just history," she looked down at him affectionately, "please don't get hung up on the history. I've always loved the fact that you love me for who I am – that hasn't changed, has it?"

He smiled, "Of course it hasn't," he said, "I love you more every day – nothing will ever change that."

Nancy smiled and relaxed back down into his arms, "I feel the same way."

A curious expression crossed Murdock's face, "How much do you know about what I did with the CIA?"

A mischievous smile lit Nancy's face, "Well, you know, Uncle has very complete files on all of his employees . . ."

"Now that hardly seems fair . . ."

"All's fair in love and war, sweetheart," she said.

"So which is it, Love or War?" he asked flippantly, then looked at her craftily, "Does he have a file on you?"

She snorted, "Yea – know where I found it?" she asked, smoothly changing the subject.

Murdock shook his head, looking at her with interest.

Nancy grimaced, "In a drawer marked 'Rejected Candidates'!"

Vacation?

The next day, Murdock stayed home with the kids and started packing for their trip to Houston, while Nancy headed into the Compound to get a quick update on project status before going to see her Uncle.

Nancy met Hannibal, Face, and Zeb in the office, "So, whatcha got for me, guys?" she asked, dropping into one of the chairs at the little conference table in the office, and shifting, trying to find a comfortable position.

Zeb and Face exchanged a look that caught her attention, "Alright – out with it . . ."

"We've got a line on Cuttey . . ." Face said.

"Really," Nancy sat forward with interest, "So who is the mysterious Cuttey?"

Face looked at Hannibal, neither one of them had liked what he had dug up about the guy. Face opened the file on the table in front of him, and started in an analytical tone, "Horatio Lukjan, Fox 18, Assistant Operations Sergeant, 5th Group, 1966, dishonorable discharge April, 1968 – insubordination was listed as the reason. Received the nickname 'Cuttey' early in his career for an apparent fondness of knives – particularly effective in extracting information from enemy POW's."

Face turned a photo around, showing a young Cuttey, in uniform, "This is the most recent photo I could find of him. After his discharge, he returned to the US and disappeared – until now."

Zeb took up the story, "We updated all the local Ables on Cuttey's background and passed out the photo, asking that they keep an eye out for him . . . casually, nothing urgent," he sat forward, "He was spotted yesterday . . . at the Children's Museum."

"Where Jazz was, with the kids?"

Zeb nodded, and Hannibal looked at Nancy intently, "Jeff Kent and Arrol Lafferty were on, by the time they were directed to pick him up, he had disappeared."

Nancy took a minute to integrate the new information, "Did Jeff or Arrol see him talking to Callie or Jack?"

"No," Zeb said, "But that doesn't mean it didn't happen. They were intent on Jazz and Terra – they weren't really watching Callie and Jack."

Nancy's jaw tensed, "This is a rather curious development. Was he there to corner Callie and Jack, and if so, about what? Or was he shadowing Jazz and Terra?"

She sat back and explained her reasoning, "Les was at Con Smith's place a few days ago, and based on what she learned, Cuttey's definitely been working for him. And Smith and Kennedy are currently buddy-buddy. Do you see this as a coincidence?"

"No," Hannibal said certainly, "And I really don't like it that he may have had access to Callie and Jack yesterday. We need to talk to them . . ."

Nancy nodded, "Let me handle that – I'll see if I can get anything out of them. It could explain why Callie's been in such a pissy mood since yesterday. What it means to this whole mess has yet to be determined."

"The local Abels are all on the look out and have been instructed to bring Cuttey in on sight," Zeb said, "If he shows again, we'll get him."

"Perhaps we could enlist the help of the local PD," Nancy said thoughtfully, "I'll call Tyler and have him put out an APB on Cuttey – there's enough evidence to at least bring him in for questioning."

"The more eyes on the lookout the better," Hannibal said, "But you better warn Tyler, this guy should be considered armed and dangerous."

"Tell him he's probably dangerous unarmed," Face said quietly.

Callie finished straightening up her papers. She had finally finished the homework Nancy had given her, and was hopeful that she would show her how to shoot a gun.

As she stood, Jack came running in, "Cal, as soon as Nan gets back from the Compound, we're gonna go for a plane ride!" he said excitedly.

"What are you talking about?"

"HM says we gotta get packed, cause we're goin' on a trip on the jet."

Callie looked at Jack earnestly, "You said Nan's gone and just HM is here?" she asked.

"Yea, and HM said we gotta pack," Jack said in exasperation, "We're gonna go to Youston."

"But HM is alone downstairs, right?"

"Yea," Jack said, impatiently, "Sowhat, we're goin' on a trip – ain't you excited?"

"'Aren't'," Callie corrected automatically, fingering the card in her pocket. She came to a decision, she'd go downstairs first to make sure for herself before she called.

In the kitchen, she found Murdock talking to Maggie, "Thanks for comin' over early, Mags," he said gratefully, "I gotta head to the field, Steve said Neil's there and I need to go over a few things with them before Neil has to leave. Then I'll go meet Nan at the Doctor's office for her appointment. It's at 11 – so hopefully, if all goes well, we'll be back by 12/12:30."

"No problem, HM," she turned and smiled at Callie, "Hey, Cal, you and Jack wanna play a game of Parchesi?"

Callie shook her head, and without a word turned and ran upstairs, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She'd dodged the bullet for now – she had a little more time to come up with a way out of this mess.

In the kitchen, Murdock watched her run out in consternation, "Sorry 'bout that, Mags, she hasn't been herself the last couple days . . ."

"She's probably just hitting puberty, HM," Maggie said, "Don't give it another thought."

Cuttey approached Nee, his look gentle, but his eyes their usual empty black, "C'mon, sweetheart, this'll help with the pain," Nee winced as he took her arm, more from fear than pain, "I'm sorry I got rough with you, but you had to learn your lesson."

He slid the needle into her arm with practiced ease, and watched as the narcotic took almost immediate affect, "There, isn't that better."

She nodded, her eyes drooping but still wary, "But why are we gonna live in a warehouse?"

"It's just for a little while," he said quietly, "Until the heat has passed. Then we'll find a nice apartment outside the city."

He lowered her back on the pillows of the roll-away bed that they had set up in one of the offices in the upstairs of the warehouse and walked out of the room. She'd be out for awhile. He locked the door behind him and smiled to himself. This was just a precaution, he couldn't have them finding Nee, he'd lose his snitch in the Murdock household. And he was still hoping he could make good on that plan.

Murdock strode into the waiting room at Dr. Phillip's office, where Nancy was sitting waiting for her appointment.

He dropped into the chair next to her, "Are they backed up today?" he asked curiously.

"Doesn't look too bad," she said, shrugging, just as the nurse opened the door and called her name.

She picked up her specimen bottle and headed into the office with Murdock right behind her.

Nancy put her sample on the counter and dropped the rest of her stuff, then stepped back out into the hall where the nurse took her weight. Then she went into the examining room, where the nurse had her sit on the table and took her blood pressure. Then she had Nancy lay back and lift her shirt so her belly was exposed. Using the Doppler, she located the babies' heartbeats. Then she cleaned off Nancy's belly and helped her sit up, "The Doctor will be with you shortly," she said as she left.

Nancy sighed, "I think my weight was up some," she said hopefully.

"Good, hopefully your blood pressure isn't," Murdock said quietly.

They didn't have to wait long before Dr. Phillips was knocking on the door, "Well, how are we doing today?"

"Maybe you should tell me . . .," Nancy said uncertainly.

Dr. Phillips smiled, setting the folder down on the desk, and stepping up to the examining table, "Let's just check this blood pressure number . . ." she said, taking the blood pressure cuff and checking it herself.

She released the pressure, and pulled the stethoscope out of her ears, looping them around her neck as she put the cuff away, "129 over 80 – much better. And you actually have gained a pound since Monday. Hopefully more than just water weight. So, how are you feeling?" She looked at Nancy solicitously.

Nancy's expression relaxed, "Pretty good, though I'm still having the Braxton hicks contractions. They don't hurt, they're just annoying."

Dr. Phillips smiled, "They're just your body preparing itself for the delivery," she said, "And whatever you've been doing this week is working. Your blood pressure looks good. The twins have been active?"

"Yes."

"Good. And their hearbeats are good," she flipped the folder shut, "So, what are your plans for the coming week?" she looked at Nancy expectantly.

"Well, we were planning on heading out of town for a long weekend in Houston this afternoon . . . if you said it was OK," Nancy started tentatively, "and I've managed to, um, unload some of the work I had on my plate."

Dr. Phillips was nodding in approval, "Good, let's keep that up. The trip to Houston should be OK, but I do want you to continue to take it easy. Your blood pressure's down, but it's still not back to normal."

She stood and picked up the folder, "I'll see you next week – have a good trip, and try to take it easy."

For the next hour, they rushed about to get everything ready for their trip. Nancy settled the kids into their seats, "Now, you need to stay seated until HM tells you it's OK to unbuckle. Then we'll take you upfront and you can see the cockpit. OK?"

They both nodded, but Jack was having trouble sitting still, "Can I fly the plane, Nan, huh? Callie got to fly Aunt Bea . . . I wanna fly the plane!"

Nancy smiled, "Don't worry, Jack, you'll get your chance. But right now, you gotta promise me you'll stay strapped down. OK?"

Jack took a deep breath and blew it out in exasperation, he'd already said 'yes' once, "OK! I won' move, just like you said . . . 'til HM says so."

"Good," Nancy said, ruffling his hair affectionately, "Now I gotta go up and help HM. I'll see you soon. Stay put," she added as a final reminder before disappearing into the cockpit.

Murdock looked up as Nancy came in and sat down in the copilot seat, pulling on the headphones, "All set?"

"Yes, the kids are strapped down. Are you through the pre-flight?"

"Yes, we were just cleared for take off," Murdock said, his face lighting up like a kid's at Christmas, "Let's get this show on the road."

They taxied to the end of the runway and began their takeoff run, Murdock letting out his usual happy howl at heading into the sky. Nancy grinned at him and joined in for good measure.

Back in the seating area, Jack looked at Callie fearfully, "Are they OK, Cal?"

Callie was smiling slightly, "Yea, Jackie, they're just havin' fun."

Once they were at cruising altitude, Nancy took off her headset, leaning over and giving him a kiss, "I'm gonna go back and get the kids – I promised them they could come up and see the cockpit."

Murdock gave her a thumbs-up as she headed back to the seating area. There, Callie and Jack were still sitting strapped in their seat, "It's OK, you two," Nancy said, "You can unbuckle and move around until it's time to land now."

Jack was unbuckled and at her side in a flash, "Can I fly the airplane now?"

Nancy smiled at him, "I'll take you up to the cockpit. Maybe if you behave, HM will let you copilot," she glanced at Callie, who was staring out the window at the clouds below them, "Cal, you wanna come?"

Callie shook her head without even looking. Nancy led Jack up to the cockpit and got him settled in the copilot chair, adjusting the headset so it almost fit him. She left the cockpit to the sound of Jack asking questions just as fast as Murdock could answer them.

Cuttey looked at Jimmie Harrington, "This warehouse will work well as the base of operations, just as you suggested," he smiled hollowly, "The old slave holding cells in the crypts will do nicely for our purposes. Did you get hold of Paganini?"

"Yea," Harrington said, "He's game. But I heard Lewis was upstate. We're gonna need a fourth if we're goin' up against the A-Team."

"Yea, Lewis is upstate," Cuttey said with an amused expression, "But that's not going to be a problem."

"You aren't suggesting that we break him out?" Harrington said incredulously, "We've got enough heat on us already, and we haven't even started . . ."

"You worry too much, Jimmie," Cuttey said smoothly, standing up, "Tell Paganini to get here ASAP, I want to start planning for the Murdock's return from Houston. I want to make sure that we can get Murdock as soon after they return as possible. They'll have less time to prepare. Surprise is of the essence."

Nancy walked into the seating area again, and over to where Callie was sitting, still strapped into her seat, "Mind if I join you?"

Callie looked up at her, annoyance flashing across her face, "Does it matter if I do?" she asked irritably.

Nancy shrugged, and sat down, "Guess not," she said truthfully, "We need to talk, Cal . . ."

"'Bout what?" Callie asked.

"Cuttey was sighted at the Children's Museum while you were there with Jazz yesterday," she started slowly, "You didn't happen to see him did you?" She watched Callie's face closely, noting the flicker of fear at the mention of Cuttey.

"No," she answered shortly.

"You didn't talk to him? Or see him? At all?"

"No."

Nancy wasn't buying it, for some reason Callie was lying to her, "Callie, I can't help if you don't tell me the truth," she said firmly, turning to look at Callie directly.

Callie's eyes flicked to her, then she stared resolutely out the window, "I said 'no' – now go away and leave me alone."

Nancy crossed her arms, "Is that 'no' you didn't see Cuttey, or 'no' you aren't going to tell me the truth?"

"It's just 'no'," Callie said angrily, shouting, "Now LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Nancy looked at Callie in surprise, "Don't you ever raise your voice to me, young lady," she said sternly.

"I'll talk to you however I like," Callie said angrily, "You aren't my mother."

Nancy could feel her composure slipping, Callie had never behaved this way with her. She took a deep breath before saying calmly, "You're right, I'm not your mother. But let's get something straight, I am the woman who has kept you and your brother together and kept you off the street. I care about you, Callie, but I will not tolerate this kind of attitude. Now, I've asked you a question, and I expect you to tell me the truth. Did Cuttey try to talk to you yesterday?"

A tear slid down Callie's cheek, "Yes," she whispered.

Nancy didn't let up, "What did he want?"

Callie turned and looked at Nancy, hesitating slightly before responding, "I don't know."

"Did he ask about Jazz and Terra?"

Callie managed to hide her surprise, and answered quickly, "Yes."

Callie's mind was racing, "He wanted to know where they were . . . I tol' him that they were being watched all the time and to go away and leave them alone . . ."

Nancy looked at Callie steadily, but Callie's gaze didn't waver, "That's it, Cal?"

"That's all," Callie said, "Don't tell Jack, please. He didn't see Cuttey, and it would scare him if he knew . . ."

Nancy sat back, something wasn't sitting quite right with her, but she decided to try a new tact, "Cal, why did you and Jack run away?"

"I tol' you . . ."

Nancy interrupted, "I know what you told me – I want to know the real reason you ran away."

Callie's jaw tensed, "Mom didn't care anyway – why should we stick around?"

"Callie," Nancy said gently, "Dr. Lyons said that Jack had been sexually abused recently . . . Is that why you took Jack and ran away?"

Callie stiffened but didn't answer, and Nancy prompted again, "Callie, did you know Jack had been abused?"

"Yes," she whispered, her look becoming self-recriminating, "It only happened once – Cuttey came home late one night and Mom was passed out in the living room. I . . .," tears started running down her face, again, "I pretended I was asleep when he came in the room, hoping he'd just go away. But he didn't."

A sob escaped her, "I tried to get him off Jackie, but he threw me against the wall and I musta blacked out . . . when I woke up, he had passed out on the bed and Jackie was cryin'," she looked at Nancy helplessly, "I . . . I didn't keep Jack safe."

Nancy looked at Callie compassionately, squeezing her hand, "Honey, there's nothing you could have done," she said intently.

Callie took a deep breath and her look hardened, "I took Jack and left right then, before he could wake up," she looked at Nancy for understanding, "I couldn't let him hurt Jack like that again. It was bad enough him beatin' on Mom, but Jack's just a little kid."

Callie pulled her hand out of Nancy's grasp, "Cuttey is a bad person," she said quietly, turning again to look out the window, "I don't want him to hurt us anymore."

"I won't let him hurt you Callie," Nancy said quietly.

Callie looked at her, "You can't protect us all the time, Nan. Nobody can."

"Maybe not, but if we can find Cuttey, we can get him locked up for what he did. Then he can't hurt you anymore."

Callie shrugged, she had come to the conclusion that no one could protect her and Jack. Nancy sighed at the resignation apparent in the girl's face, knowing she wasn't reaching her. Lately, she had thought she was getting through to Callie, but she could see that the encounter with Cuttey had erased all the progress they had made.

"Ready, copilot?" Murdock asked, looking over at the little boy, whose eyes were alight with excitement.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Jack said enthusiastically.

"Alright, now, remember what I told you," Murdock said, unobtrusively flipping the autopilot switch as he talked, "Just hold the control steady and keep your eyes on the altimeter and the horizon."

Jack gripped the control tightly, his gaze fixed intently on the altimeter, "Am I really flyin' the plane, HM?" he asked.

Murdock made a show of letting go of his control, "You betcha, buddy – all on your own."

"WOW!" Jack said in wonder, and Murdock sat back with a satisfied smile.

"Where we goin' HM?"

"Houston."

"Where's Houston?"

"Houston, Texas," Murdock answered, "It's where I grew up."

Jack's eyes strayed to him, then roved anxiously back to the altimeter, "You grew up in Texas?"

"Yep," Murdock said, "Lived with my Gram and Gramps, actually just outside of Houston, but in the same vicinity. Texas is a big state . . ."

"Why with your Gram and Gramps? Where were your Mom and Dad?"

"My Mom died when I was just a little older than you," Murdock explained, quietly, "My Dad left me with my grandparents 'cause he didn't know what else to do with a kid."

Jack looked at Murdock sadly, "I'm sorry, HM."

Murdock smiled at him, "Nothin' to be sorry about, buddy," he said certainly, "I loved living with Gram 'n Gramps – they were real good to me."

They sat in silence for a few moments, then Jack said quietly, "I love my Mom . . ."

"I'm sure you do, kiddo," Murdock said.

"But I don't want to live with her anymore . . ."

"Why not, buddy?" Murdock asked gently.

Jack looked down, afraid to meet Murdock's eyes, "Because, she won't leave Cuttey . . . and Callie says Cuttey will . . . won't leave me alone."

Murdock put a hand on Jack's shoulder, "You know, Jack, that whatever happened, it wasn't your fault?"

Jack looked at Murdock through frightened, shame-filed eyes, the flying forgotten, "But I didn't do anything to stop him . . ."

"You couldn't have, buddy, you couldn't have done anything. Please don't blame yourself. What happened was wrong, and Cuttey is going to pay for it."

A Team By Any Other Name

When they landed in Houston, the limo was waiting for them at the airport. It took them to the hotel, where they unloaded their luggage and headed up to the Presidential Suite to unpack.

Nancy walked out into the main living area and looked at the clock, "I'm going to head in to the Center to see Uncle," she said, turning as Murdock walked out of the master bedroom and joined her, "What are you and kids gonna do?"

"We are going to go rent a vehicle, so we don't have to ride around in that stuffy limo for our entire trip," Murdock said, "Then I thought I'd take them to the Texas Air Aces. We could pick you up after your visit."

Nancy nodded, "OK, I'll take the limo there, and wait for you afterwards at the Family Center."

"We'll see you about 6?" Murdock suggested, "Then maybe we could take one of those paddleboat rides at Moody Gardens and eat a late dinner there."

"Sounds like a plan," Nancy said, picking up her briefcase and purse, she dialed the phone and called for the limo. Hanging up the phone she headed for the door, "I'll see you about 6."

Murdock caught her at the door and gave her a kiss goodbye, "Love you, Short Cake," he said warmly, "Try not to let your Uncle get to you OK? Remember your blood pressure . . ."

"I'll try, but no promises," Nancy said realistically.

Nancy walked into her Uncle's room and wrinkled her nose. They had done a lot to try to make the room feel more homey – wall paper, nice furniture, curtains. But in her opinion the beeping equipment and the antiseptic smell really ruined the effect.

Her Uncle looked up from the bed, "Come in, Nancy, I'm awake."

"I'm glad you could come this weekend," he said as she sat down, "I know you're busy, but I still like to keep up with what's going on at Stockwell Enterprises. How did the meeting with Casey go?"

Nancy sat her briefcase and purse down on the floor, "Very well, we've got a new contract for several projects with the CIA – at 15 over standard fees."

He smiled at her, "I knew you were a Stockwell at heart," he said proudly, "Do we have the resources to cover the new projects?"

"Not at the moment, but we're working on it," Nancy said, keeping her expression carefully neutral as she sat down, "Temp has the recruiting ads out and is accepting new applications as well as pulling files on previous applicants to see if there's anyone suitable."

"And the new Team . . ."

"On schedule to deploy as planned," Nancy said, "We're keeping all of them on for flexibility in assignment. Screening has also started for the next training class – there were 15 applicants altogether."

"You're doing a fine job, Nancy," Stockwell said happily, "I have to admit I had some doubts, but you've really risen to the occasion . . ."

Nancy sighed, "Actually, Uncle, I need to talk to you about that . . . I've been delegating much of the day to day work . . ." she started uncertainly, "And I'm going to be backing off even more."

"Backing off?" he asked.

Nancy took a deep breath, "Yes, Uncle, backing off," she stated more firmly, "I've turned day-to-day administrative control over to Temp, Zeb is handling all operations, and Hannibal is handling the teams, and overall coordination. I'm acting in an oversight role, making sure that everyone stays on task and keeps with the strategic plan."

"Did you say that Lieutenant Peck has administrative control?" the General was sitting forward urgently.

"Yes."

"And Smith is coordinating all activities?"

"In essence, yes," Nancy verified.

"So you've turned control of my company over to the A-Team?"

"No . . ." Nancy said, her jaw tensing, "I have delegated day to day management to Deal, Peck, and Smith – they are keeping me appraised of overall progress towards objectives that we set – and for the record it is no longer just your company."

"I did not put you in charge so that you could turn Stockwell Enterprises into an A-Team charity," her Uncle said angrily, spots of color rising on his pale face.

Nancy crossed her arms, "I am not in the business of charity for anyone," she said angrily, "This is how I have chosen to structure the management of Stockwell Enterprises in you absence. Smith, Deal and Peck were, in my estimation, the best people for the job. When you return, if you want to restructure that's fine by me, but so far this is working quite well for me. When you thought I was doing it all, you were pleased with how everything is going in your absence . . ."

"I expected more from you . . ." Stockwell said angrily.

"Yes, Uncle, I know," Nancy interrupted snidely, "You expected me run Stockwell Enterprises just like you always have. Well, that just can't happen."

A nurse came bustling through the door, making clucking noises, "General, you need to calm down, your blood pressure is going through the roof," she turned to Nancy accusingly, "You're upsetting him - you should leave, now."

Nancy picked up her briefcase and purse and stood. She looked at her Uncle's frail form guiltily; perhaps she shouldn't have told him. She took his hand and squeezed, "Please, Uncle, just trust me. I'm keeping an eye on things – I just can't do it the way you did . . ."

The General looked at her sadly, "It's not your fault, Nancy," he said in disappointment, slumping back against the pillows, "I shouldn't have placed such a large burden on you."

Nancy sighed, "I'm sorry, Uncle," she said quietly. She squeezed his hand again and let go, "I'll stop by and see you again tomorrow, when you're feeling better," she turned and left the room and walked out of the building.

She stepped out into the sunshine and glanced at her watch. She had quite a bit of time to waste until HM and the kids showed up to get her, and she decided to spend the time wandering through the campus grounds, hoping vainly that the peaceful setting would bring some peace to her own chaotic life.

Cuttey looked up as Jimmy Harrington returned from picking up Paganini. Both men walked into the room that they had set up as a strategy room in the old river-front warehouse. There were surveillance photos showing Nancy and Murdock and the kids spread out across the table, along with a map showing the various roads around the Murdock household. Most of the photos were long range and grainy, but provided enough detail for planning purposes.

"You better keep your sorry face off the street, Cuttey," Jimmie said jokingly, "The cops are all over. Not to mention those freakin' Abel agents. What a pain in the ass."

Paganini, a baby-faced man with reddish hair and surprising green eyes, picked up one of the photos and whistled, "Nice shot – where'd you get these?"

Cuttey smiled, "An old friend," he said as a large, muscular man stepped out of the shadows, "You remember Charlie, don't you?"

"Hey man," Paganini and Harrington both walked over and pumped the fourth man's hand in greeting. Harrington stepped back, "I thought you were in the pen, man. How'd you get out?"

Lewis smiled, "I got myself a stand in."

"Alright," Cuttey said, standing with a stack of thick expanding folders, he'd given the copier in the office a work out, "That's it for the reunion, we have a shit-load of work to get done before the Murdock's get back from Houston."

He handed each man a folder, "This is everything we've got on the whole team and their families. Read it and know it. The only way we're gonna beat the A-team is if we know them better than they know themselves."

He pointed out the door, "There's a room set up for each of you upstairs, I suggest you head to your room, read some tonight, and then get some shut eye. We'll reconvene in the morning."

Nancy sat on the bench outside Family Services, soaking in the heat. The walk around the campus had allowed her time to work out her frustrations. Her Uncle was disappointed – she'd just have to accept that. She'd made her decisions about how the company was going to be run, and she wasn't going to change it now. Truth was she was much happier than she had been for the last two months. She'd come to the conclusion that while she enjoyed setting objectives and plans for Stockwell Enterprises, the rest of it really wasn't her thing. It had been like a weight was lifted off her shoulders when she had finally delegated the day-to-day functions.

HM, Callie and Jack pulled up in the van they had rented. Callie hopped out of the front seat, climbing into the back while Nancy got into the front, dropping her briefcase and purse between the seats.

"How's the General?" Murdock asked curiously, as he pulled away from the curb.

Nancy shrugged, "If I had to select one word, I guess it would be 'disappointed'."

Murdock looked at her in concern. He had a pretty good idea what the General was disappointed about, "Did you tell him what Dr. Phillips told you?"

Nancy shook her head, "No, it didn't come up," she said quietly, "We discussed the status of things with Stockwell Enterprises, then I had to leave. Uncle was getting . . . upset."

"So, did he even ask how you were doing?"

"No, we kinda skipped the usual pleasantries."

"Typical," Murdock said irritably, "Your Uncle has his head so stuck up his . . ."

"Murdock . . ." Nancy said warningly.

"mmm. . . butt, that he doesn't even think about anyone else," Murdock shifted in his seat in agitation, "Maybe I should talk to him . . ."

"Just let it go, HM, it really isn't worth the effort," Nancy said resignedly. She turned and looked back at the kids, "Hey guys, did you have fun at the Texas Aces?"

"Yea, but flyin' the plane was more fun," Jack said.

"Are we really gonna eat on a paddlewheel boat tonight?" Callie asked, her pent up excitement apparent.

"Yep," Murdock said, "I made the reservations this morning for the dinner/dance cruise tonight."

"Dance?" Jack said, wrinkling his nose.

"I think it sounds like a blast," Callie said.

"Me, too," Nancy agreed, "It's been ages since we went dancing . . . probably not since our wedding reception."

Murdock tipped his head to the side, "I guess that depends on your definition of dancing . . ."

"HM Murdock, there are children present," Nancy said.

He grinned lewdly, "Yea, that's been saving you a lot lately."

Carla walked into the General's room and looked around in surprise, "I thought Nancy was coming today . . ."

"She's been here and left already," the General said peevishly, "I need you to get Colonel Smith on the phone."

Carla looked at the General in surprise, "Didn't Nancy give you an update?"

"Just get him on the phone," Stockwell said shortly.

Carla shrugged and complied, "Hello Lieutenant, the General would like to speak with Colonel Smith," she said, handing the phone over to the General.

"Smith, what in the hell is going on up there? Nancy told me she's put you in charge . . . and Peck is handling administration? I want an explanation and I want it now!"

Hannibal held the phone out from his ear, and looked over at Face, who was working on payroll for the month. Face had heard what the General said, too, and raised an eyebrow at Hannibal. The reaction was pretty much what they had expected.

Hannibal put the phone back to his ear, "Nice to hear from you General," he said facetiously, "It sounds like you're feeling better."

"Cut the bullshit, Smith," the General said angrily, "I want to know what you did to make this little coup possible."

"Well, General, you caught me," Hannibal said, "I wanted to take over Stockwell Enterprises, so I made sure that your niece developed high blood pressure so that the doctor would tell her she had to slow down – it was the perfect plan."

"What?"

"Tell me, General," Hannibal continued, "Did you even ask Nancy how she was?"

"Well, not in so many words," Stockwell stumbled, "I assumed she'd tell me if she was having problems . . ."

"You know, Stockwell," Hannibal said allowing his irritation to sound through, "You are always making snap judgments where Nancy is concerned, and usually without knowing the whole story. Why don't you try talking to her about what's been going on in her life lately. Stockwell Enterprises is fine – your niece isn't so good right now." Hannibal put the phone down with finality.

They enjoyed their cruise on The Colonel. Eating, dancing, playing and enjoying the pleasant evening and each other. They had just finished a rousing round of the chicken dance, and were catching their breath out on the deck, watching the water churned up by the huge paddlewheel.

Nancy leaned on the railing, watching Callie and Jack who were still chicken dancing and giggling. Murdock moved behind her and put his arms around her shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her cheek and Nancy turned her head and returned the kiss, rubbing her hands along his forearms.

Callie finally slumped against the railing, a huge smile on her face. She looked up at Nancy and Murdock, "This is the best time I've ever had," she said happily.

Murdock smiled warmly at her, "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Strawberry."

she sighed, spreading her arms out and looking up at the star-filled sky, "I wish this could last forever."

Carla finally managed to get hold of Zeb at home that evening, and handed the phone over to the General, "Listen, Deal, I want some straight answers," Stockwell said stridently, "How out of control are things with Stockwell Enterprises?"

Zeb sighed and flicked the TV off, sitting back in his chair, "Everything's fine, General," he said easily, "Peck, Smith and I have things under control – all according to plan, just like you wanted."

Stockwell considered that, "Peck isn't robbing me blind, is he?"

Zeb chuckled, "No, actually, he's one hell of a negotiator," he said, "Did Nan . . . uh," he stumbled, wondering if he was being too familiar, "Didn't your niece tell you about the 15 increase in fees with this new contract? It's really going to help with the recruiting. I've already made offers to a couple of the senior field agents we've had our eyes on, and they've accepted."

"But what kind of crazy schemes has Colonel Smith cooked up?" Stockwell asked, almost accusingly.

"Well, General," Zeb said carefully, "I get the impression that he and Nancy have their differences, but in front of the rest of us, they have a united front. We have a fairly detailed strategic plan in place that Smith ensures we follow to the letter. Any deviations have to be cleared with Nancy first. She's not been around the Compound a whole lot the last week, but it doesn't mean she doesn't know what's goin' on. Smith sees to that."

"So that's it?"

"What did you want to hear, General?" Zeb asked, "That Stockwell Enterprises was falling apart without you? I can assure you it's not – everything here is going well. You need to take care of yourself and stop worrying about the company. It's gonna be just fine."

Cuttey closed the door on Nee, again. She had taken to pounding on the door, and he was trying to concentrate. Once he'd drugged her up again, it was blessedly silent. Maybe he'd just keep her that way. It would make it much easier to deal with her.

Clearing the Air – Muddying the Waters

They didn't get back to the hotel until nearly 1 am. Murdock carried a sleeping Jack up from the van, with Callie stumbling along half asleep herself. They got the kids settled in their beds and headed to bed themselves.

She was running down a dark alley, her heart pounding in her ears, and her breath coming in rasps. She kept looking over her shoulder. She could see nothing but shadows pursuing her, but she knew they were sinister. Were they getting closer? She couldn't tell, but raw fear kept her running, even though it felt like her heart would burst from her rib cage. Up ahead she could see a light, but it wasn't getting any closer. Wouldn't anyone help her? If she squinted into the light she could see someone beckoning, but she couldn't make out who it was, because the light was behind them and was blinding her. She slowed her pace and shaded her eyes, trying to make the person out.

A door appeared on her left and she stopped and opened it, hoping for a route of escape. When the door opened, it blocked the light from the end of the tunnel, plunging her into darkness. The smell of chloroform filled her nostrils as she struggled to remain awake. She could feel herself being swallowed up by the blackness, but she fought the overwhelming desire to close her eyes, backing into the tunnel . . .

Nancy's eyes snapped open, and she fought to control the trembling in her limbs. Slowly, her breathing calmed and she turned and looked at Murdock, who was still asleep. When she felt like she could trust her legs to hold her, she slipped out of bed, and headed into the common room. Her eyes landed on her guitar, propped in a corner. She decided that music would do nicely to calm her tingling nerves, and grabbed the guitar and slipped out onto the veranda.

Murdock woke with a start awhile later and realized Nancy wasn't in bed, or even in the room, with him. He rose from the bed and wandered out into the common room of the suite. He caught sight of her through the glass door. She was in her pajamas, sitting cross-legged on the end of a lounge chair, staring out across the city. She sat without moving for about a minute, then seemed to come to some decision, and started strumming a tune on the guitar in her lap.

He silently opened the door and leaned against the door frame, listening as Nancy started to sing:

The street light crawls into a bare bulb hotel
Where dead eyes shine there's a story to tell
It's a life of crime on a bed of stone
When the devil calls you're better off alone

And now I'm hiding from the light, running from my destiny
Haunted by a flame, lying low, livin' on a memory

The bugs still bite and the breezes blow
Between your dreams right through your clothes
The days roll by like cars on a train
And the August sky still looks like rain

And now I'm hiding from the light, running from my destiny
Haunted by a flame, lying low, livin' on a memory

Haunted by a dream, I can't escape this reverie
Trying to break away, lying low, livin' on a memory

I'll be walking behind you, I'm a face on the wind
I'll be watchin', still payin' for my sins

I'm drifting down the river so slow
As the lights of town are beginning to glow

And now I'm hiding from the light, running from my destiny
Haunted by a flame, lying low, livin' on a memory

Haunted by a dream, I can't escape from this reverie
Trying to break away, lying low, livin' on a memory...

Murdock pushed the door shut, purposely making noise, "I don't think I've ever heard that one before . . ."

Nancy turned and smiled at him, "Alannah Myles – Canadian artist," she supplied, setting her guitar aside, "She did Black Velvet . . ."

Murdock nodded in recognition. Nancy moved forward on the chair and smiled invitingly at him. Murdock straddled the chair and sat back, looking at her curiously, "Are you OK?"

She considered the question seriously, "Not really," she admitted, "But I will be."

He accepted that with a nod, and reached up and rubbed her shoulders, "I wish there was something I could do to help . . ."

Nancy leaned back in his arms and sighed contentedly, "You always help," she said, closing her eyes, "Just by being here."

He kissed the top of her head, "But you're still having the nightmares," he said ruefully.

Nancy's eyes were open again. Changing the subject, she pointed to the sky, "I miss being able to see all the stars here, only the bright ones are visible. Guess there's too much ambient light from the city . . ."

"Yea, for years as a kid, I thought there were only stars in the country, where my grandparents lived – thought they turned 'em on just for me," he smiled at the memory, "You know, even when Mom was still around, my favorite times were always when we went to the country to see Gram and Gramps. Mom called it 'Mommy time' – just the two of us would go out pickin' berries or just walkin'. We never spent that kind of special time together in Houston – Mom and Dad were always too busy with work."

"Sounds like your Mom enjoyed it as much as you did," she said quietly, "I think I'm starting to understand that."

They sat quietly for awhile. Nancy was looking up at the sky, noticing a bright star. Her mind wandered down a dark tunnel, where the star was the light at the end. She shivered, and Murdock's arms tightened around her. He made her feel safe and secure – maybe safe enough, tonight, to talk about the demon in her head.

"You know, it was a night kinda like this, muggy and close . . ." she spoke suddenly and caught Murdock by surprise, but he didn't interrupt, just listened, "Carson nabbed me at my apartment – he had to have been in the apartment already when I came home from the office late that night."

She sat forward, hugging her knees, as if she were cold, "He was smart," she said, almost admiring, "had to have been planning . . . watching . . . waiting for weeks for his chance. He caught me with chloroform – just like that thug, Trigger, right out of a dead sleep."

"I didn't wake up for several hours. He had plenty of time to get me out of sight before anyone came looking for me."

She was quiet for a moment, then continued, "When I woke up, it was pitch black and cold," she was clutching her arms in an attempt to keep from shivering uncontrollably, even in the hot and humid Houston evening, "I found out later it was a morgue drawer."

Nancy stopped – in her minds eye she could see the inside of that drawer, "It's funny, I was terrified in that drawer at first . . . later on, it was like a safe haven. While I was in there, at least, Carson didn't . . . do anything to me."

She was quiet, and Murdock leaned forward, "Nan, you don't have to . . ."

"No, it's alright," she said quietly, "It just . . . doesn't seem real. Almost like it happened to somebody else."

"You're dissociating," Murdock said, "It's normal – sometimes it's easier to talk about, kinda like narrating a story, rather than living it."

"There must be some kind of life experience degree in human psych that you could get . . ." Nancy said with a little smile and a slight shake of her head.

"I think one human psych major in the family is enough," Murdock said, returning the smile, he pulled her back into his arms, "I'd much rather be your love slave then your therapist anyway."

Her smile widened and she relaxed, "I thought you were both . . ." she said playfully.

"Anything for you, Short Cake," he said warmly. They sat quietly for several minutes.

"HM," she finally said curiously, "do you think I need to see a shrink?"

"Do you want to?"

"Not really."

"I don't think you need a shrink, Nan," he said, "But I do think you need to talk about it."

Nancy nodded thoughtfully, and they sat quietly for a few more minutes.

"He was conducting experiments," she said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Carson," Nancy explained, "He was conducting experiments – to further his understanding of forensics."

Her voice took on an instructor's tone, "Serials are usually intelligent sociopaths. Extreme planning, often accompanied by a need to justify what they're doing, if only in their own minds. You almost have to admire the thought and planning necessary . . ."

She paused for a moment, then continued, "Carson told me that . . . I would 'die for a good cause.' He would provide running commentary as he performed his experiments and subsequent 'examinations'," Nancy grimaced at the word, "I found that if I could just listen to him talk, and ignore . . . what was happening, it was almost tolerable."

"It started the same . . . each time he would wet a towel in chloroform and put it over the door. It took time, but eventually it would knock me out. That way he could get me out of the drawer without a struggle."

"He had me in this ancient morgue in an old boys' school – had this big solid slab of marble, where they would do the autopsies. Cold as hell, sucked every last ounce of warmth out of my body," she smiled humorlessly, "Of course, that was what he wanted. On top of everything else, he was a necrophiliac. He'd . . . rape me after I'd cooled down enough to feel . . . dead."

"I'd come around after awhile and he'd be playing M.E., recording his findings for posterity," she shuddered, "after he'd realize I was awake, he'd talk to me. Start his battery of tests for the session. Things like suffocation exercises, electrical stimulus response, pain tolerance . . ."

Nancy stopped, allowing the scene's to flash through her head un-narrated – some things she just couldn't verbalize. Murdock's arms had tightened slowly around her as she was talking, and she patted his arm, as she realized it, "It's OK, HM."

"Sorry," he mumbled, loosening his grip somewhat.

Nancy shifted so she could put her arms around his waist, and he smoothed her hair and kissed her, "It's over and you're here," he said quietly, "Carson can't hurt you anymore."

"Not in body," Nancy agreed, thoughtfully, "You know the worst part - I missed the fiery finale. Didn't even get to see the beast blown away. Joe thought it was a little disturbing, but when I got out of the hospital, I made him take me to the morgue and show me the body – I had to see for myself that he was really dead."

"Sounds like a reasonable request to me," Murdock said matter-of-factly.

"Somehow, I knew you'd understand," Nancy said, smiling, "I needed it for closure. I can't imagine what it would be like for a rape victim to have to face their rapist on the witness stand . . . maybe watch as they're released. It would be almost unbearable. For me, seeing him with a bullet through his head helped at least . . . helped me to know it was really over."

"Hope I never piss you off that much . . ."

"Not possible," Nancy said, adding offhandedly, "Kennedy's comin' close, though."

"Can't say as I'd mind that myself," Murdock said, "Kennedy's lucky Hannibal found you, 'cause if I had . . . he'd already have a bullet through his head."

Nancy squeezed his hand, "You know, it's a beautiful night, and I'm tired of talking about depressing topics . . ." as if seconding and thirding the vote, the twins gave a resounding thump, and she chuckled, "That's a majority – no more about Carson . . . or Kennedy."

"Alright . . ." Murdock said thoughtfully, "What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"You're the Houston native," Nancy said, "What do you think we should do?"

Murdock grinned widely, "I thought you'd never ask . . ."

A few hours later, the first rays of the rising sun broke the horizon, and Murdock stretched, "When was the last time we stayed up all night talking?"

"It's been awhile," Nancy said, yawning.

Murdock stood, carefully, and pulled Nancy to her feet, "Let's get you into bed – you need to get at least a few hours of sleep . . ."

"I'm . . ." Nancy yawned widely again, "OK."

"Yea, wide awake, I can see that," Murdock said, leading her into the room, and back to the bedroom, "Just humor me and lay down. I'm gonna go check on the kids, then I'll be right back to join you."

Murdock went to the kids' room and had a bit of a start, as Callie wasn't in her bed. But then he saw her lying by the sliding door, which was slightly ajar. He slid the door shut, wondering how much of his and Nancy's conversation from the night before Callie had stayed awake for.

Callie's eyes flew open as he started to pick her up, "HM?" she said blearily.

"That's my name . . . now shhh. It's early and your brother's still asleep."

He laid her in bed and got her comfortable. She looked up at him with big brown eyes, wide with concern, "HM, is Nan OK?"

Murdock sat on the edge of the bed, "Nan's gonna be just fine, Callie," he said certainly, then looked at her curiously, "How about you?"

Callie was caught off guard, "I don't know . . ."

"Is there something I can help with?"

Callie avoided answering the question, instead asking one of her own, "HM, why are you and Nan bein' so nice to me and Jack?"

Murdock's brow furrowed, "Because . . . I don't know, I guess because you're good kids and . . . you needed us. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, "It's just that, nobody's ever taken us anywhere like this. I didn't even know places like this existed."

Murdock glanced around the room, trying to see it through Callie's eyes – it probably looked pretty extravagant to her. He looked at her seriously, "You know, Strawberry, this is a nice place . . . but I bet your Ma woulda brought you here, too, if she could. What matters aren't the things in your life, but the people – the ones who love you and care about you. All the money in the world can't buy that for you."

Callie looked at him doubtfully, "My Mom says she 'loves' me – she tells me all the time," she said, her voice reflecting disbelief, "But it doesn't mean anything. She's more worried about where she's gonna get her next fix . . . and get laid. You know I'm the one always takes care of gettin' her birth control," Callie said, rambling on, without any real point, it just felt good to unload, "Sherry'll send us back and in 9 months, I'll have another squawling baby to take care of, 'cause Mom can't . . . or won't," she sighed, ending defiantly, "If she really 'loved' us, she'd take care of us."

"Maybe it's because she doesn't really know how, Strawberry," he said consolingly, then decided to take advantage of her talkative mood, "Sounds like things aren't all bad with your Mom . . ."

"When it's just Mom and Jack and me, things aren't so bad," Callie admitted, "Mom has her days when she binges, but it's like she knows she's gotta keep it together 'cause it's just the three of us. But it always happens," she shook her head, turning to stare unseeingly out the sliding door, "she'll bring home some guy and everything changes. She lets him take over our lives, which would be OK 'cept Mom always seems to find real losers. Sometimes they just yell and crab, but sometimes . . . sometimes they're real mean . . . Cuttey was the worst yet. It's like he knew how to keep Mom down and under control. I never seen her coked up as much as she was with Cuttey. It was real bad. I tried to stick it out, as long as Cuttey was leavin' me and Jack alone – so I could keep an eye on Mom. But when he went after Jackie . . ."

She stopped and looked at Murdock as if surprised he was still there, then glanced over at Jack worriedly, "Mom's on her own – I got enough to worry about with just Jack and me."

"You and Jack are safe here, Cal," he said, "there's nothing for you to worry about."

Callie looked at him, her eyes reflecting a weariness beyond her years, "But you never know when things are gonna change – and I have to be ready. I've learned I can't rely on anybody but myself."

Murdock put his hand over hers and squeezed comfortingly, "You know, Strawberry, Nan and me are here for you, whatever you need. You gotta have some faith in the people that care about you. You're not in this alone."

He stood up, patted her cheek affectionately, then tucked her into the bed tightly, "You better try and get some sleep, sweetheart. It's still awful early. Then when you get up we'll make plans for the rest of the day. Sweet dreams, Strawberry."

Callie watched him leave sadly, he had no idea how alone she was.

When Murdock woke up, Nancy was just finishing up a telephone conversation with her father, "Thanks for the help, Dad," she said, "We'll give you a call when we're back in town."

"What was that about?" Murdock asked, recognizing the papers lying in Nancy's lap.

Nancy gathered everything up and shoved it into her briefcase, "I'm going to resolve this once and for all," she said quietly, "I can't live up to Uncle's expectations, and I'm tired of trying. SE is his baby, he can have it back. It's better to admit failure now, and stop beating myself up over it."

"Nancy, don't do that," he said, "The only thing you failed at is being your Uncle. Just because you don't do everything the way he did, doesn't mean you failed at leading Stockwell Enterprises. In my opinion, you've done a hell of job – especially considering all the extenuating circumstances."

"In Uncle's eyes, I'm a failure," she responded in frustration, "As far as Stockwell Enterprises is concerned, that's what counts."

"Now you're just wallowing in self-pity," Murdock responded, equally as frustrated, "You've never been a quitter – I can't believe you're going to start now. Don't let your Uncle get to you. Ignore it, he'll come around."

Nancy stood, "I'm tired, HM," she said, "I'm not quitting – I'll keep up with what I'm doing, if it's what Uncle wants. But I don't need the partnership. It's too much," she looked at him, seeking understanding and agreement, "You were the one who said we needed to simplify our life – consider this my first act as part of the Murdock life simplification plan."

He looked at her piercingly, "I'll support you, if it's really what you want, Nan," he said, "just make sure you're doing this for the right reasons."

"I'm doing it for the best possible reason, HM," she said earnestly, "I'm doing it for us. The partnership in Stockwell Enterprises doesn't suit me – I took it for all the wrong reasons. I'm just correcting that error."

Once everyone woke up, they dressed and had breakfast in the hotel restaurant before driving into the Cancer Center. They all went into the Family Center, where there were activities and games for the kids to enjoy, while they waited for Nancy.

Nancy watched the kids setting up the chess board, waiting for Murdock to return from the restroom before leaving to see her Uncle. He came up behind her and put his arms around her waist, "I'm back," he looked at her worriedly, "You gonna be OK doin' this alone? We could come with you . . . act as a distraction."

She turned and smiled as he leaned down and kissed her cheek, "I'll be fine – this is something I've got to do on my own," she said, returning the kiss and then pulling away, "I shouldn't be too long. I'm just going to drop the papers off for Uncle to consider and leave."

Murdock watched as she disappeared out the door, then sat down to help Callie and Jack learn how to play chess. It was never too early to learn the strategy involved in a good chess game, "It's important to be planning ahead, and make every move count," he said, thinking that that was good lesson for life, as well as chess.

Nancy walked in to find Carla taking dictation from her Uncle. She cleared her throat and the two looked up in unison.

"That will be all for now, Carla," the General said shortly, and Carla gathered up her papers and left the room, with barely a nod to Nancy in greeting.

Nancy walked to the bedside and sat down in the chair Carla had just vacated, "So, have you checked up on everyone in Langley?" she asked knowingly.

Stockwell crossed his arms, "Smith said something about the doctor telling you to take it easy," he said sternly, "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Would it have made a difference, Uncle?" she asked wearily.

He deflated some at that question, "Nancy, if this was too much for you, why didn't you just say so?"

Nancy shrugged, "I guess because it was nice having you proud of me for a change," she said quietly, "and, as Dad would point out," in fact, had pointed out that very morning, "Stockwell stubbornness probably played a roll as well. I wanted to do it all, just like you did, Uncle. But I couldn't."

She reached down in her briefcase and pulled out an official looking document, holding it out to her Uncle, "I talked to a really good contract lawyer this morning," she said with a smile, "He told me that the partnership is easily dissolved as long as I don't want anything out of the jointly held business – which I don't. I can continue in my current capacity if you'd like. Or you can fire me as acting operations manager, and structure the management as you see fit. The choice is entirely up to you."

Her Uncle looked at the writing on the front of the contract, the words 'partnership dissolved' jumping out at him and sighed, "Nancy, I do not want to dissolve the partnership," he started.

Nancy stood, "No, perhaps you don't, but I do," she said with certainty.

"I spoke with Smith and Deal yesterday, and you're doing a fine job according to them . . ." he said earnestly, "Please don't be hasty about this."

Nancy was shaking her head, as she pulled the straps to her purse and briefcase over her shoulder, "Don't bother, Uncle," she said quietly, "I hate it when you praise me out of guilt. You've got your management options. Let me know what you want me to do."

Stockwell put the contract down, "Nancy, don't leave like this," he said to her retreating back.

Nancy turned and looked at him, "I love you, Uncle," she said with an affectionate smile, "I'll be back tomorrow, to visit you as your niece, and not as your business partner. Who knows, maybe that will go better."

Hannibal looked at the men gathered in the office. Brett Katt had shown up, unannounced, with some very disturbing developments, so he had decided to convene a quick meeting with Zeb, Face and BA – they needed to get prepared.

"Go on, Brett – tell them what you told me."

Brett nodded, "There's been a detail working an undercover with one of Constantine Smith's rivals and the bust went down last night. They managed to take the kingpin, Justice Paganini, just by luck. He was less than happy, as you can imagine – they got enough to put him away for a long time. I wasn't involved in the bust, so I don't know all the details, but James, the lead officer caught me this morning with some news he thought I might be interested in."

Brett smiled humorlessly, thinking that it was funny how news that concerned Nancy always seemed to make its way to him, even after all these years, "James said that they had heard, through the underground, that the contract on Nancy was accepted, and all other takers warned off – keep clear or get caught in the cross fire."

"Apparently, the contractors are ex-army – Special Forces," he added, looking at them pointedly, "the other players have wisely decided to heed the warnings – nobody wants to get caught between the A-Team and these guys. They're expecting an all-out war. Knowing you guys, I'm guessing they won't be disappointed."

"Special Forces," Hannibal said thoughtfully, "One guess who's behind that . . ."

"Cuttey," Face said.

"Face, what have you been able to dig up about Cuttey's old Army buddies," Hannibal asked.

"I've managed to track down about half of his unit," Face said, "I talked to his commanding officer who's retired to El Paso – he said Cuttey was dangerous, no soul, no remorse, typical psychopath. It made him useful, when they could keep him under control, but when he lost it, it was bad. Insubordination was a pretty way of saying he could no longer be controlled. He was making a play for his own unit, had three of the guys with him, and they began threatening the Commander. In the end, they didn't have enough to put them away, but the Army decided they didn't want the liability and discharged all four of them. Sounds like it was a real cluster, if you know what I mean."

"Any of his unit on the east coast?" Zeb asked.

"I've had Riley and Leslie trying to track down the other three guys that were discharged with him," Face said, "As of yesterday, the only one they'd managed to locate so far is Charles Lewis – who's serving a life sentence in Singsing. But they got a line on another – Riley's on his way over . . ."

As if on cue, Riley came walking in, "Hey, looks like you started the party without me," he looked at Face, "Les just called from Jersey – she managed to run down the parole officer – unfortunately, Paganini disappeared about three months ago."

"Damn," Face said, "What about Harrington?"

"You're gonna hate this," Riley said, "He's one of Con Smith's right-hand men. Run's his vehicle recovery operation here in DC. He's probably the one that hooked Cuttey up with Smith in the first place."

"Sounds like Cuttey has at least three of his unit in place," Hannibal said, "What do we know about them."

Face pulled out the files and started filling them in, "Paganini is an explosives specialist. Harrington was the Unit sergeant – mechanical and weapons are his listed specialties, though he is apparently a jack-of-all-trades."

"What about the guy in Singsing?"

"Sharp-shooter," Face said, "I personally am glad he's in Singsing. Apparently took up contract work on return, but got nailed in an upstate assassination attempt four years ago.

"We're sure he's still in prison?" Hannibal asked.

"Les is on her way to Singsing now to check, personally," Riley said, "And have a little talk with Mr. Lewis. See if he knows anything."

Hannibal nodded, "Zeb, get a detail headed to Houston – I don't want Nancy and Murdock down there alone. I don't think they'll bother them that far away, but it can't hurt to be prepared. Face, contact Murdock and tell him what's going on, he needs to be on the alert, then help BA get that new electronic gadgetry figured out. I want redundant trackers on Nancy from the minute she sets down in Langley."

Murdock pulled himself up on the side of the pool, and directed one last splash at Callie before standing and walking over to where Nancy was stretched out on a lounge chair. It was a hot day, and they had all been in and out of the pool, unable to stand too much time in the scorching sun, but enjoying the warm weather after the dismal, rainy fall in Langley.

Nancy smiled up at him, but then her eyes focused behind him, "Callie, Jack, while we're out of the pool, you're to stay in the shallow end," the kids had taken to the water like little fish, and were a little too daring for Nancy's comfort.

Murdock dropped into the lounge chair beside her and picked up his drink, grimacing as he realized that the ice was long gone, "Let 'em go, Short Cake, we're right here," he admonished lightly, "They're swimmin' circles around me already."

"Yea, well you do sink like a rock," she said smiling, "makes it easy to sand bag."

Murdock's cell phone rang, and he looked at it in annoyance, "S'pose I should get that, huh?"

Nancy shrugged, as he picked it up, "Murdock."

"Hey, Facey," he said cheerfully, "You and Ames shoulda come with us. The weather is be-u-tiful."

"It's hot," Nancy corrected.

"My hot-blooded Chicago lady isn't adjusting too well to the heat," Murdock said, looking at Nancy sideways with a grin.

"Glad to hear you're having a good time, Murdock, but some of us had to stick around Langley and work," Face said good-naturedly.

Murdock chuckled, "Ya oughta try sleepin' with the boss, it works for me," he said jokingly, "Callie keeps askin' if we can just stay down here, and part of me wishes we could, at least for a little while."

Face raised an eyebrow, glancing over to where Hannibal was talking to Zeb at the doorway, "Maybe that's not such a bad idea, HM," he said uneasily.

Murdock caught the inflection, "What's up, Face?"

Nancy looked at Murdock over her sunglasses, "Is something wrong? Did they find Juanita?"

Face took a deep breath, "We've confirmed that Con Smith has taken the contract, and it appears Cuttey is his man. Cuttey's managed to round up a couple of his Army buddies, and they're declaring war on the A-Team."

On the other end of the line, Nancy could read Murdock's face like a book, "What's wrong?"

"All Special Forces?" Murdock asked.

"Yea," Face answered shortly, as Hannibal came walking over to the desk, "Is it Murdock?" at Face's nod, he punched the speaker phone on, "Captain, I just talked to Zeb – he's got an Able detail headed your way, just in case they decide your vulnerable. I don't want to take any chances."

"You don't really think they'd come to Houston, do you Hannibal?" Murdock asked worriedly, "I got no backup down here."

They're on their way, Murdock, just sit tight," Hannibal said, "I really don't think Cuttey would come down there – he's gonna wait for his chance up here. We just gotta make sure he doesn't get one."

Nancy was sitting up and facing her husband by now, "What the hell is going on?" she asked earnestly.

Murdock looked at her, "The contract is live," he said simply, "Listen Hannibal, maybe we should head home now – it's easier to defend home turf."

"I'd rather you stayed in Houston for a few days," Hannibal said, "Until we're able to find out more about what's going on – I think Nancy's safer down there than she would be in Langley, at least for the time being."

"You're the boss, Hannibal," he said.

"Actually," Nancy said irritably, "I'm still the boss – now I want to know what's going on."

"Hang on Hannibal," Murdock said, lowering the phone he quickly provided Nancy a brief synopsis of his discussion, "Hannibal wants us to sit tight for a few days until they can figure out what's going on."

Nancy's look was stubborn, and Murdock knew they were in for it, "I will not have my life dictated by this," she said firmly, "Tell Hannibal we're headed home tomorrow, as planned."

"Nan, be reasonable . . ."

"I said, tell him," she said slowly.

He looked at her resignedly, "You heard that, didn't you Colonel? We're comin' home tomorrow."

Hannibal sighed, "Let me talk to her, Murdock."

"Be my guest," he said, and held the phone out to Nancy, who took it, "Don't try to change my mind, Hannibal," she said without preamble, "If we're going to find him, I gotta be there. Cuttey's not gonna crawl out of the woodwork until his target is in sight. I'll be in Langley tomorrow."

"Nancy, at least give us a couple of days to get everything in order and come up with some contingencies," Hannibal said reasonably.

"A couple more days isn't going to make a difference. The quicker we force a move, the less prepared they'll be."

"And the less prepared we'll be," Hannibal argued.

"You plan better than Cuttey on the fly, Hannibal," Nancy said, "We've gotta go with our strengths. You have 24 hours – have an Abel detail at the 'port waiting when we land tomorrow at 1700."

"There will be an Abel detail with you on the flight," Hannibal said, "Face, BA, and I will meet you at the 'port tomorrow at 1700. And you're being put under 24-hour surveillance as soon as you land in Langley, whether you like it or not – got it?"

Nancy smiled, "Got it – see you tomorrow Hannibal," she flipped the phone shut, and looked at Murdock severely, "No backup? What am I, chopped liver?"

Murdock sat back in the chair with a heavy sigh, "No, Short Cake, in this case you're the target."

Nancy sat back with a 'humph', "So paint a bullseye on my forehead – it doesn't mean I can't still take care of myself."

On the other end of the line, Hannibal looked at the buzzing speaker in consternation before punching the end button irritably, "Shit, she can really piss me off," he said, and growled at Face's guffaw, "We have 24 hours to get ready for their return – let's find out as much as we can. And get BA in here – I've got some work for him at Murdock's house. Knowing Nancy, we won't be able to convince her to stay here, so we're gonna need a surveillance system installed there, pronto. Move it, Lieutenant."

Leslie was sitting at the plexiglass window, when a man came walking up and took a seat across from her, looking at her blankly. She picked up the handset and motioned to him to do the same. He complied.

"Are you Charles Lewis?" she asked.

"Yea, my name's Chuck Lewis," he said quietly, "Guard said you was looking for a friend of mine."

"Are you the same Charles Lewis that served in the Special Forces, 5th Group, in 'Nam?"

He laughed, shaking his head, "Sure, pretty lady, if that's who you want me to be."

"Did you serve in Vietnam with Horatio Lukjan, otherwise known as Cuttey, in the 5th Group of the Special Forces?" Les asked intently.

His lips curled in a cruel smile, "I never knew no Cuttey, and I was a grunt in 'Nam," he said, "But then Charles Lewis is a pretty common name, ain't it?"

Les' eyes grew wide, "Do you know the Charles Lewis that I'm looking for?"

"Yea, I know the son of bitch," he said quietly, "He's the reason I'm here. Fucker stole my identity, and let me take the fall for some asshole he killed," he sat forward, his eyes glittering, "Not that I don't belong here, but I'd rather be here on my own ticket if ya know what I mean."

"Where's the other Charles Lewis?"

"Hell if I know, lady," he said, "Though he does send me a picture once a year – on our anniversary."

"Your anniversary?" Les asked curiously.

"Yea, he was there the day they convicted me of his crime," Chuck Lewis laughed humorlessly, "Asshole walked right up to me and handed me a picture of himself on some fuckin' beach – back said 'Thanks for taking my place'. He's a real piece of work. I ever get outta here, I'm gonna blow his fuckin' head off and shit down his neck."

"Do you have any of those pictures or the envelopes they were sent in?" Les asked.

"Sure," he motioned to the guard and handed him a stack of envelopes which were carefully inspected than transferred around to Les through the gate at the end of the bank of visitation windows.

Les opened the first envelope and pulled out a picture, looking at a very tall muscular man with a crew cut, grinning at the camera flipping a double bird, turning it over the back was marked crudely, 'Happy 3rd Anniversary. Thanks, again, for taking my place.' She picked up the handset, "Hey, when's your anniversary?"

"Next week," Chuck said, "I expect I'll be getting another keepsake from my buddy then."

Les motioned to the guard, who took her card which was transferred to Chuck much the same way as the envelopes had been transferred to her. Once he had it in his hand, she nodded to it, "Send me the photo and envelope when you get it."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," he said, "If you promise to come visit me again."

"Deal," Les said, watching as Chuck Lewis was led back into the prison. She pulled out the most recent envelope – it was postmarked Laurel, Maryland – way too close for comfort.

Hannibal put the phone down and walked out to the electronics room, where Face was helping BA finish the connections for the surveillance system that they had just finished installing at Nancy and Murdock's house.

Face glanced up, a please look on his face as an image of Nancy and Murdock's front yard flicked up on the screen, "Looks like we're all set."

BA growled, "Need more time to set up a proper system," he said, "There're gaps, Hannibal, big ones. I got more equipment on order but this is the best I could do on short notice."

"I got bad news guys," Hannibal said, which made both Face and BA stop and give their full attention to him, "I just got off the phone with Les – Singsing doesn't have our Charles Lewis."

"That's impossible," Face said, "I checked the social, birth date, prints, everything, it all matched."

"Well, apparently our Charles Lewis decided to swap places with another Charles Lewis," Hannibal said, "Les is bringing back photos, but from what she's been able to dig up, he's definitely in the greater DC area."

"So Cuttey's team is complete?" Face said disbelievingly.

"Looks like it."

Callie looked up at Nancy through heavy eyes, "Do we have to go back to Langley tomorrow?"

"Yea, do we hafta?" Jack echoed his sister sleepily from where Murdock was tucking him into bed.

Murdock grinned at him, and looked at Nancy innocently, "Yea, Nan, do we hafta?"

Nancy shot her husband a withering look, than smiled down at Callie, "I'm afraid so, Strawberry. Besides, Billy and Gin are probably missin' us."

"Can we go back to the pond and go swimmin' when we get home?" Jack asked.

"If it's warm enough, buddy," Murdock said, "Now you two go to sleep."

They walked out into the main room, and Murdock dropped onto the couch, "It wouldn't hurt anything if we stayed another day or two."

Nancy sat down next to him, "I want this whole thing over with," she said quietly, "We're going home tomorrow."

Murdock put an arm around her, pulling her close, and kissed the top of her head, "You gotta promise me you'll be careful, Nan," he said earnestly, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Nancy curled into his embrace, putting her arms around his waist, "I'm worried, too."

"Good," Murdock said, "Hopefully that means you won't do anything foolish."

Murdock couldn't sleep, and after he heard Nancy's even breathing, he slipped out to the main room and flipped on a late night movie with the sound turned down. He sat in the flickering light, listening to the night sounds of the city, and methodically cleaning his hand gun. It was about 2am when there was a noise at the door to the suite.

Murdock picked up his hand gun and walked silently to the door, and watched as the knob tried to turn. He could hear muffled whispers in the hall, but couldn't make out any words. He reached up and slipped the passive safety latch back, and with the next turn, pulled the door open and put his gun to a surprised Jeff Kent's head with one fluid movement. Andrew Lars, who was standing slightly behind Jeff, stepped back and drew his own weapon.

Murdock dropped his weapon to his side, "Shit, Jeff, you're lucky I didn't blow your head off," he said irritably, "Why didn't you call from the lobby?"

"I tried," Jeff said, "You must have a phone off the hook. Good to see you haven't lost your touch."

"Any news?" Murdock asked, leading the way into the main room. Andrew closed the door and made sure the locks were secure, before following.

Andrew motioned around the room, "I'm going to do a quick sweep while you get Captain Murdock up to speed."

Jeff nodded, and smiled at the grimace from Murdock at being addressed so formally, "Good," then he turned his full attention to Murdock, "You look like shit, man. Have you gotten any sleep?"

"Just tell me what's going on," Murdock said, dropping onto the couch and flipping the TV off.

"Well, it looks like Cuttey's team is complete, and has been for awhile. How long they've been planning is unknown, but chances are they're more ready than we originally thought. Hannibal's working on damage control right now – we need to get up to speed and get on top of this before you come back to Langley," Jeff looked at Murdock hopefully, "No chance of convincing Nancy to delay the return trip?"

"None," Murdock said flatly, "She wants to get this over with, and right now I can't say I blame her."

"Listen, Murdock, you should go get some shut eye," Jeff said, "Andrew and I will be on watch the rest of the night – and you're going to need to be sharp tomorrow. If they're gonna chance it here in Houston, they're gonna do it when you're on the road."

"OK," Murdock said, rising as Andrew came walking out of the kids' room, "everything clear?"

Andrew nodded, and Murdock stopped him as he started into the bedroom where Nancy was sleeping, "I'll take care of that sweep," Murdock said.

He left Jeff and Andrew in the main room, discussing their schedule for the night, and after a thorough sweep of the bedroom, bathroom and balcony, he slipped into bed with Nancy, who rolled over and looked at him through wide-awake eyes, "Is that Jeff I heard?"

"Yea, Jeff and Andrew Lars just got here," Murdock said, "They'll be on watch the rest of the night."

"Good," Nancy said, "It makes me feel better knowing they're here."

"Me, too," Murdock said, finally feeling himself relax for the first time since Face had called that afternoon.

Nancy and Murdock rolled together and held each other silently, falling asleep locked in each other's embrace.

Return to Chaos

Murdock refused to let her out of his sight the next day, and insisted that he, Callie and Jack accompany Nancy up to see her Uncle. As usual, Carla was there, taking dictation.

"Thank you, Carla," the General said quietly, as Nancy entered the room, "That will be all for now. Please get that typed up and to me right away."

Carla nodded and walked out of the room, with barely a glance at Nancy.

Stockwell looked up at his niece, noting with concern how tired she looked, "I'm glad you're here. This visit hasn't been going so well and I wasn't sure you'd come back."

Nancy shrugged as Murdock, Callie and Jack came in behind her, "I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment," she said facetiously, then turned and put her hands on Callie's shoulders, "Uncle, I'd like you to meet Callie Temple," Callie stepped forward and shook the General's offered hand, "And this," Nancy said putting a hand on Jack's shoulder, "Is Jack Temple. They've been staying with HM and me for the last couple weeks."

"It's nice to meet you, children," Stockwell said, as he shook Jack's hand, and acknowledged Murdock's presence with a curt nod, "Why don't you all have a seat."

Murdock declined, choosing instead to stand by the door, where he could see out into the hall. Nancy took the seat Carla had vacated, and Jack hopped up on her lap, while Callie took a seat on the other side of the bed, watching the heart monitor with unfocused eyes.

Jack looked at the General curiously, "Are you sick or somat?"

"Yes, I have something called cancer," Stockwell said.

"I was in the hospital last week," Jack said, "I had 'monia, and I was in the hospital for a whole week. How long are you gonna be in the hospital with . . . cancer?" Jack ended uncertainly.

"Hopefully not too much longer," Stockwell replied.

"How long have you been here?" Jack asked.

The questions went on for the next hour, with Nancy and Murdock visiting leisurely with the General whenever Jack wasn't talking his ear off. Stockwell seemed to be enjoying Jack's company, and was smiling and laughing openly with the little boy.

Callie, on the other hand, sat sullenly in her chair. Ever since she had found out that they were really returning to Langley that evening, she'd retreated into her own little world.

As visiting hours came to a close, the General looked up at his niece, "We do need to talk, at least briefly, about the partnership and how we're going to proceed."

Nancy shrugged, "The partnership is dissolved. The only thing to discuss is whether you want me to continue to manage the company or not. Whatever you decide is fine by me."

Stockwell looked up at his nephew-in-law, "Captain, could you please take the children into the hall for a moment while Nancy and I speak privately.

Nancy looked at her Uncle as the door closed behind Murdock, "Well, Uncle," she prompted.

"Nancy, I do not want to dissolve our partnership, not like this," he said quietly.

Nancy spread her hands, "This isn't about what you want, Uncle, it's about what I want."

"So you really don't want to be my partner?" her Uncle said sadly.

Nancy sighed, he was trying to make her feel guilty again, "No Uncle, I don't want to be your partner. You're a lousy partner. Hell, you're a lousy Uncle. I will continue to manage Stockwell Enterprises for you, exactly as the management is structured now. If you don't like it, you can fire me – I don't care. When you return, the company is all yours. I think that's the way it should be."

Stockwell looked at her, a smile playing around his lips, "You sounded just like your mother," he said quietly, "She was always laying it on the line for me. I need that."

"Don't pull that card on me, Uncle," Nancy said warily, "I'm not my mother, and I'm not going to be your partner."

Her Uncle shook his head, "No games, Nancy. You won't be my partner, we've established that. However, you have agreed to remain as operations manager, and I'm going to hold you to that."

Nancy looked at him discerningly, then nodded, "Fine, I'll continue as I have been," she glanced at her watch, "We have to get going, we're due in Langley at 5. I'll talk to you next week. I'm dropping my flight schedule to once every two weeks, so I won't be back down until later this month."

Her Uncle nodded, "Very well," he said, "But I'll be expecting a daily update, not only on Stockwell Enterprises, but on you, as well. Agreed?"

Nancy's look softened, "Agreed, Uncle," she leaned down and kissed his cheek, "Take care of yourself," she said as she straightened back up.

"You take care of yourself," he replied, "You've got two little ones who are depending on you to stay healthy. Make sure you don't let them down."

Lewis sighed as he sat down with a cup of coffee, "Too bad we couldn't nab the pilot before all the hoopla."

"I'd rather just take the woman," Cuttey said, stabbing the tip of a pocket knife at an image of Nancy, "After reading all of Murdock's file, I'm not so sure he's the best target."

"They've got her wired to the moon, man," Paganini said from a computer monitor to the side of the room, "No way you're gonna take her without them knowin' it."

"Whatcha worried 'bout anyway, Cuttey," Harrington said, "Murdock wasn't even SF – he was just a fuckin' flyboy."

Cuttey looked at Harrington sharply, "I told you to read the file," he glared around the room, taking in all three of them, "You were to read the file on each of them and know them. We're going up against the A-Team, not the fuckin' boy scouts."

"I just don't understand why you're so worried about taking Murdock . . ." Harrington said petulantly.

"Murdock was SF, whether the Army listed him that way, or not. He not only flew the Team, but he went on mission with them. That's not what bothers me, though," Cuttey flipped the file to the back, and pointed with the knife, "He was CIA before that, and they list black ops – Murdock's got training I wonder if even his own unit knows about."

"So, tell Smith you wanna take the woman," Lewis stated matter-of-factly, "She's the primary target anyway."

"I'm telling you they gonna lock her up like Fort Knox," Paganini whined, "I don't care what special training Murdock's got – taking him is gonna be a breeze compared to trying to take her."

"Maybe we take Murdock along with some insurance," he said thoughtfully, pulling a photo of Callie and Jack out and laying it next to Murdock's.

The return flight to Langley was uneventful and Hannibal, Face, and BA were waiting at the airfield when they touched down a little after 5pm, as promised.

As they came out of the plane, Hannibal took Nancy's arm, "BA's got some jewelry for you in the office," he didn't leave any room for protest. Murdock, Callie and Jack followed.

Callie watched with mounting interest as BA fussed about getting Nancy fitted, "HM, what is BA doing?"

Murdock looked down at her, "He's fitting Nancy with tracking devices, so we can find her."

"Why?"

Murdock crouched down and looked at Callie and Jack seriously, "There's a contract out on her, it's just a precaution to make sure that if . . . well, if she disappears, we can find her."

Callie looked confused, "But that's not . . ." she stopped and looked at Murdock, clamping her mouth shut suddenly.

"What, Cal?" Murdock asked curiously.

"Nothing," Callie said, then added hastily, "What about you? Are they gonna put tracking thingies on you, too?"

Murdock smiled, "Naw, Cal – I'm not the one they're after."

"But, what if . . . you know, what if they couldn't get Nan?"

"That's the idea, Strawberry," Murdock said, standing and turning to Hannibal as a thought occurred to him, "What about the sharp shooter, Colonel?"

Callie watched him, frustration showing plainly on her face.

About half an hour later, BA had satisfied himself that the trackers were secure and fully operational.

Nancy sighed, "Can I go home, now?"

Murdock chuckled, "You sounded just like Jack."

Hannibal and Face were standing to one side and looked at each other. Nancy caught the glance, "What?" she asked irritably.

"I want you to spend a few days at the Compound," Hannibal said forcefully.

"Live at the Compound?" Nancy repeated.

"Yes, until we can get the materials in to outfit the surveillance at the house properly."

Nancy cast about for reason not to, she knew the Compound was secure, but she wanted to be home. Her gaze landed on Callie and Jack, who were standing together by the front desk, Callie's arm protectively around Jack's shoulder. She took a deep breath – they looked just like she felt – freaked out by the whole situation.

"Fine, but we're only staying there for tonight," Nancy capitulated, "Call Riley – he's got connections with a local security firm that probably has the supplies you need on hand to finish the job."

She walked over to Callie and Jack, "You two OK?"

"We're scared," Callie said quietly.

Nancy nodded, "Me, too. But there are lots of people around to make sure we stay safe."

Callie's eyes flicked to Murdock, "HM, too?"

"Of course," she said, "He's part of the Team."

By the time they got clean clothes at home and returned to the Compound, it was almost 8 and Jack was looking worn out.

"We should get the little guy into bed," Murdock said, "Wouldn't hurt Callie any to get to bed early, too."

Murdock turned and found Nancy sitting in a chair, her eyes closed, "Short Cake?" he said quietly.

Her eyes opened, "I'm not asleep," she said, "I think we all could use an early bed time."

They took Callie and Jack back to the room off the end of the hall, which was full of video tapes. Murdock looked around curiously, "I remember when this was Frankie's room," he said, "Looked a lot different then."

"The whole Compound looked a lot different then than it does now," Nancy said, clearing off a double bed for the kids to sleep on.

Face stuck his head in, "The Master bedroom is cleaned out. It's the only one we haven't converted to some other use, yet, but it had an awful lot of excess equipment piled in it," he watched as Callie and Jack crawled into bed, "BA and I will be on first watch, so if you need anything, just let us know."

They said their goodnights and headed for the door, but Callie stopped them, "Where will you be?"

"Just down the hall, Strawberry. Just like at home," Murdock assured her, "Sleep tight and sweet dreams."

Nancy and Murdock crawled into bed 15 minutes later, "Are you on watch detail tonight?" Nancy asked.

"Hannibal and I are relieving Face and BA, but not until 4am," Murdock said, pulling her into his arms.

Half an hour later, there was a tentative knock at the door, "Who is it?" Murdock called quietly, trying not to awaken Nancy.

Callie pushed the door open, and she and Jack came into the room, hand in hand, "We can't sleep," she said quietly, "Can we sleep in here with you and Nan? We can sleep on the floor."

Nancy's eyes had opened, and she moved over, "C'mon up here."

Callie and Jack looked at each other, then jumped up on the bed and crawled up to Nancy and Murdock and lay down between them, all of them falling quickly to sleep.

At 3:45, Hannibal walked in and woke Murdock with a touch to the shoulder. Murdock followed him out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

Hannibal smiled, "See you had some company last night."

"Yea," Murdock said, "They were scared . . ."

Hannibal nodded, his own concern reflected in his face, "C'mon, I'll buy you a cup o' coffee before we relieve BA and Face."

The next day passed in a blur of activity at the house, which was bustling with people. Hannibal had capitulated and allowed them to go home. Nancy was complaining about needing to do laundry and take care of the dogs – truth was she just wanted to be home, where she could pretend everything was normal. Unfortunately, the unusual activity at the house made that all but impossible. That evening, things had quieted down, and it was only Hannibal, Face, and BA besides Nancy and Murdock and the kids.

Nancy came down from having tucked the kids into bed, and Hannibal and BA were in the kitchen, "HM and Face on recon?"

Hannibal nodded, "They're going to take first watch tonight," he said, adding solicitously, "You should head to bed. You look dead on your feet."

"Not dead yet, Hannibal," Nancy said with a wan smile.

"Poor choice of words," Hannibal said, "Really, things are well in hand. Head on up to bed."

"I'll wait until HM is back from recon."

Hannibal watched her sitting there staring unseeing out the window, "Nancy, are you alright?"

She looked up at him as if surprised he was there, "Something's not right," she said, shaking her head, "We're missing something, Hannibal."

Lewis finished laying the photos of the various surveillance instruments at Murdock's out on the floor plan of the house, "I'm tellin' you, Cuttey, getting Murdock is going to be close to impossible . . . especially if you want to take him at the house with the kids."

"What do we need the kids for, anyway?" Harrington asked.

Cuttey ignored the question, scrutinizing the newly acquired photographs, then turned to Paganini, "You got what you need to jam the surveillance?"

"Yea," Paganini said, looking up from a control screen on an electronic gadget, "Charlie got me the transmission frequencies. Jamming will be a breeze."

"They're there for the woman," Cuttey said dismissively.

"Why can't we just wait for our chance when Murdock is on recon – we can grab him easy then," Harrington said.

"We need the kids," Cuttey said.

Fifteen minutes later, Murdock walked into the living room where Nancy was dozing on the couch, and touched her shoulder gently, "C'mon Short Cake, I'll take you up to bed. Nancy followed him gratefully, falling into an uneasy sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Murdock tucked the covers tight around her and kissed her forehead. It was going to be a long night, and probably an even longer week.

Hannibal was hanging up the phone when Nancy came into the kitchen the next morning, "Cup of coffee?"

"Please," Nancy said, dropping onto one of the chairs by the kitchen bar, which ran under the picture window at the back of the house.

Hannibal set it in front of her, and sat down next to her, "The FBI called this morning. The DA wants a face to face with you and me. They're talking possible protective custody. They've already pulled Jazz and Terra in."

Nancy sipped her coffee, "Did you tell them we had it under control?"

Hannibal shrugged, "Might not hurt to take the offer," he said, "The more bodies the better."

Nancy shrugged noncommittally, "I guess it can't hurt to talk to them, when?"

"1100 at the DA's office," Hannibal said, "You'll go in the armored limo with BA driving."

Callie watched as Nancy was fitted with a special bullet-proof jacket, "Are you all going?" she asked worriedly.

Hannibal smiled at her reassuringly, "Don't worry kiddo. Murdock and Face are staying here with you and Jack, and you'll be under continuous surveillance from the Compound. If a flea sneezes here we'll know about it."

"Really?"

"Really," Hannibal patted her shoulder, "I've got two recruits on surveillance duty, in addition to Face and Murdock being here."