Little bit more revealed here...actually a lot more, lol. Just bear with me...this story came out of an idea that's going to happen a lot later on. Only person who knows what's gonna happen is Jes, so if you don't like what I'm writing, blame her, lol, cause she's the one who told me to write this! Snrk. Anyway, read, review, don't flame. And same as last time, more of this is written at On the Jazz, see my profile for the link. And if anyone has suggestions for a better title, please email me or join OtJ and PM me...I'm really at a loss, lol.

Note: I won't update without reviews. So, if you like the fic so far, even just a review saying "I like it" will help. Anything to show me that someone is taking an interest in this. I've already written upto I think chapter 6 or 7, so the quicker you review, the quicker I update :p

Twenty-six minutes later Murdock pulled the car into the driveway of a large white beach house. Before he could even turn off the engine Nicole was demanding her keys back.

"Can I turn off the engine first?" he asked with a chuckle and a grin that she found extremely irritating.

She didn't reply, only watched him impatiently until he gave her back the keys. When he handed them back she calmed down visibly, but was still obviously on edge. He couldn't help wondering what made her so anxious, though he had an idea.

Leading the way, he walked through the front door to find the other team members already waiting in the living room. Beside him Nicole cast glances at each of the others in turn and let out a nervous breath.

"You need our help, Ms. - ?" Hannibal prompted, snapping the girl out of her reverie.

"Kendall," she supplied with a wry grin. "Did you think I'd forget my last name, Colonel?"

"Can't be too careful," he replied with a grin.

"I suppose not, in your situation," she agreed hesitantly. "Look, here's the situation: my, um, my mother was…she was killed two days ago and..." She sighed and crossed her arms. "Look, I can't tell you who I work for - I'm assuming Murdock told you about the CIA cover," she cast a sidelong glance at him, "but I'll tell you what I can. We were working on trapping these gun runners; thought they were just small time - hell, we were even ready to make the arrest - until we caught him dealing with Vasil Shirral, an arms dealer for Aaron Tate. So, we decided to stick with them and see what else we could dig up." Needing a moment, she paused and rubbed at her eyes tiredly; it had been two days since she'd had a decent night's sleep.

Peck spoke up, "Aaron Tate the mobster?"

Nicole grinned wryly and asked, "you know of another Aaron Tate that would be involved in gun running and worth mentioning?" When he didn't respond to her question, she finished telling them what had happened. "Anyway, seems these scumbags didn't take too kindly to having their activities monitored. Our safe house and command center was attacked while another agent and I were on assignments - nobody made it." It was hard, but she managed to fight the tears that threatened to show. "Anyway, he hadn't reported back in, last I checked, and we're both under suspicion - somebody had to have told these slimeballs our location."

"And your mother fits into this how?" Smith asked.

Quietly she replied, "she was the team's medic. They found her in the makeshift hospital we had set up in the basement. Didn't have a chance."

Hannibal looked her over as he chewed on his cigar, and seemed to come to a conclusion. "Maybe we could take this out onto the patio?"

Nicole nodded hesitantly and followed him outside, her hands fiddling with something in her jacket pocket.

Face stared after them as they left. "What was that about?" he asked.

"I think they may have a few things to talk about; call it a hunch," Murdock said with a dismissive shrug.

"Is the name a coincidence?" Colonel Smith asked without preamble as soon as they were out of earshot of the others. He took a seat on one of the patio chairs and looked up at her questioningly.

Nicole leaned on the railing and replied, "no." She pulled out the piece of paper she had been fiddling with and handed it to him, a little nervous about his reaction. As he read the words on the paper, she watched his face to gauge his reaction biting her bottom lip nervously. But his expression betrayed little as he read the letter, his only reaction to look up at her about half way through. Her mother had written the letter to him when Nicole had only been around twenty.

When he finished the letter he pulled out another cigar and lit it, but didn't say anything.

His silence did nothing to calm her nerves. "One way or another you're going to have to say something," Nicole muttered as she crossed her arms across her chest. That letter had told him what she herself had only learned recently - that he was her father - and now that he'd read it he wasn't saying anything; she wondered if that was a good sign or a bad sign.

After taking another puff of his cigar Hannibal asked calmly, "you've read it?"

"Yeah. I found that letter in her safe in the house," replied quietly. "Look, I understand if you don't want me around, but for now I need your help."

As Smith sat chewing on his cigar, seemingly lost in thought, Nicole watched him. He was probably having a hard time taking it all in - in the space of a few minutes someone he had known well was dead and he had a daughter. It was bound to be hard on him. She turned around to look quietly at the ocean so that he could have some time to think.

After a several long minutes had passed, he came and stood beside her. "What exactly is it that you want?"

She looked down and watched her fingers as they played nervously with the ring she wore. "From you? I don't know," she replied honestly. "I don't expect a quick fix and a normal, loving father." That had sounded a lot more bitter than she had intended. "From the team? I want help."

He chewed some more on his cigar then asked, "you mean revenge?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head adamantly. "I want you to help me finish my job. If it doesn't get finished, then mom died for nothing. I can pay you a pretty decent fee." The idea of paying her father for help didn't sit right with her, but she barely knew the man, and he and his team needed to make a living somehow.

"So, what, exactly, do you want us to do?" Smith prodded.

Nicole took a deep breath and leaned her elbows on the railing. "We would need to find out who else these guys are dealing with, so that I can give the names to my superiors, and we would need to shut them down."

"Superiors?" he echoed. "We don't work for people who could have us arrested, kid."

"You won't be arrested," she tried to assure him.

"How do we know this isn't some elaborate set up?" he pushed on angrily. "How do I know you won't turn us in? Not to mention, if you guys are so good, why do you need us?"

Logically she knew she should have explained that her superiors didn't trust her at the moment, and her job needed to be finished, but she couldn't suppress her anger and frustration any longer. "Maybe I don't need you, then," she spat. "Keep the damn letter, and thanks for the help, dad!" With that she stormed angrily through the house and out to her car, driving away and ignoring the confused stares of the rest of the team.

Smith pretty obviously didn't trust her, and, she supposed, with good reason. There was just no time to convince him otherwise. She didn't know how, but she would do this on her own somehow. First she needed to get another bug planted, though.

Murdock watched Nicole go, and, after taking a moment to think about it, went out onto the porch to talk to Hannibal.

"She's an interesting lady," he muttered as he came up beside the Colonel to watch the ocean.

"Yeah," Hannibal agreed gruffly.

"Reminds me a bit of someone," Murdock remarked casually, his hands in his pockets and he watched.

Smith watched him wearily out the corner of his eye. "Oh really?"

He sighed and took his hands out of his pockets, placing them on the railing. "Come on, Colonel. Her eyes are a dead give away!"

Hannibal put out his cigar and glared at his captain. "Stay out of this, Murdock," he warned dangerously.

Murdock hesitated for a moment, considering the warning, then pressed on. "That girl came to us for help, Hannibal! What are you going to do? Turn your back on your family?" He paused to gauge Hannibal's reaction, to see if he had gone to far, then continued in a quieter voice. "You and I both know she has no chance if she goes at this alone."

Face and BA watched Hannibal and Murdock through the glass. They couldn't make out what was being said, but from their actions they could tell it was a very heated discussion.

"What do you think's going on, Faceman?" BA asked.

Face shook his head and replied, "I don't know, but there's something we're not being told about this girl."

Murdock sighed and sat down on one of the chairs. "It all comes down to this, Colonel: she's your daughter and she needs help."

"You're making this out to be far simpler than it is, Captain," Hannibal muttered quietly, chewing on another cigar. As he stared out over the beach away from Murdock, memories of his past came flooding back.

He remembered a girl with the same wavy brown hair Nicole had, and a pair of the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen. He remembered laying injured in the hospital and having her take care of him. It had been one of the toughest times in his life and she had helped him through it. "Linda," he whispered to himself.

"How would you feel if something were to happen to her?" Murdock asked, snapping him back to the present.

The question struck a chord with Hannibal, who turned to look at the pilot. When Murdock nodded silently at him, he came to a decision.