Warnings/Content: Contains male/male SLASH. Also some full-bodied soldier type language. Adult themes are discussed here and relationships between men. If you don't like the thought of it please do not read. I do not wish to offend.

Part Five

"You got fired!" Murdock howled. "What the hell for?"

"For having a brain, I think!" Peck responded. "All the things I was up to that he could have legitimately got me for and the fool fired me for doing my job, for trying to improve his antiquated systems." He shook his head, bemused. "The world is mad!"

"You OK, though?"

Peck smiled. "Murdock I haven't felt this good in years! I tell you, you should have seen my right hook, BA you would have been proud of it. Man went down like a … like a…"

"Shit supervisor?" the pilot ventured.

"Too right!"

Murdock laughed gleefully. "Faceman, I am so glad you are taking it this way. I thought you might…"

"Man was a fool!" BA snapped. "Deserved what you gave him, Face. Want me to go back and finish the job?"

"No, BA. Thanks, but I think Withers learnt his lesson. I reckon nobody ever stood up to him like that before," Face replied.

"That's because he never tried it on a member of the A Team before!" Murdock joined in happily.

They all laughed for a while but it tailed off. Face was first to break the ensuing silence. "I miss him," his voice was soft with yearning as he glanced around the room as if searching for their missing member.

"I know, Faceyman," Murdock agreed.

"He should be here," Peck continued and BA nodded.

Murdock sighed. "In a way he is. He brought us together, made us what we are. Just us three being here means that a part of him is here too. A part that we'll always have with us. Come on Face, tell us what you know so we can come up with a plan worthy of the master!"

"Yeah, tell us, Face," BA coaxed, aware of the sudden melancholy that had descended and anxious to disperse it.

Face sighed. "It's quite simple," he began. "Every day for the last week and a bit, five grand has been automatically transferred into my bank account. I checked officially with the bank and they are happy that it's all legal."

"Are you sure it's not coming from some long, lost Aunt that you never knew you had, Face?" Murdock asked.

Face rolled his eyes. "Murdock, this is Templeton Peck, remember? The original man with no family; I have no long lost Aunts. Anyway I know exactly where the money is coming from."

BA took a sip of his milk. "Where?"

"Well, I checked through all the transactions – it's coming from an off-shore account and through a number of dummy accounts to launder it but the original source is right here in LA."

"In LA!" Murdock whistled. "Who?"

Face took a long pull of his whiskey, enjoying the moment when everyone's attention was on him. "From one James Stephens."

"Who is he?" BA growled.

"Not James 'the Skeleton' Stephens?" Murdock asked. "So called because everybody who messes with him disappears only to turn up as a skeleton some time later."

Face nodded. "The very same," he confirmed.

BA growled louder and Murdock shook his head. "He is one man not to mess with!"

"There's one more thing, guys," Face continued.

"What?"

"Well, it took time but it wasn't that difficult to follow the process; any hacker with any talent whatsoever could track it."

"Which means?" BA asked.

Murdock gulped. "If it was easy for you to find him…."

"….. it'll be just as easy for him to find me," Face finished, as he fiddled with his tie nervously.

"You're being set up!" Murdock said.

"So why not just give the money back?" BA asked.

Face sighed deeply. "I thought about it but it will take some nifty programming that I didn't have time for. And anyway, honestly, I could do with the money."

"It's dirty!" BA scowled.

"Dirty or not it will pay some bills," Face muttered.

"Don't need to pay bills when you're dead sucker!" BA scowled distastefully.

"Is this linked to the muggers?" Murdock asked anxious to get his friends back on track.

Face shrugged. "Could be, although they were on to me real quick and haven't managed to track me down since. Anyway the point is even if I give the money back the damage is probably done – Stephens must be after me by now. You're too close to me HM. They might not have caught on yet but sooner of later even the dumbest goon is going to come looking for me here. So I've taken precautions."

"Precautions?" BA asked.

"I scammed us a new place," Face responded.

"You scammed us a …." Murdock leapt up and started to dance around the room. "Face scammed us a place, Face scammed us a place!" he sang at the top of his voice.

"Shut up, fool!" BA shouted. "Where Face?"

"Down in Malibu, on the beach."

Murdock let out a howl of complete ecstasy. "Face scammed us a place by the ocean blue, down in glorious Malibu!" he sang and then hopping across the room, he took Face's cheeks in his hands and he planted a sloppy kiss on the other man's startled lips.

"Knock it off, Murdock!" Face protested but only half-heartedly and his hand moved up to touch where the pilot's lips had been.

"Fool!" BA moved menacingly toward the chanting pilot. "Shut up or you gonna end up buried beneath six foot of sand under that ocean blue!"

Murdock pouted and looked hurt but calmed down a little. He still, however, kept throwing Face idolising glances which although Peck seemed to ignore them, made him feel warm inside.

"When do we move, Face?" BA asked.

"Now," Peck responded forcing himself to concentrate. "It's only a matter of time until they come calling, and I value my skin too much to want to meet up with the Skeleton!"

The brooding atmosphere was suddenly cut by the harsh ring of the phone. All three men tensed. Murdock moved to answer it. BA glanced anxiously towards Peck, noting the worry lines etched around the blue eyes and was the conman's hand shaking slightly as he ran it through his greying hair? As he watched the edginess in his friend seemed to ease as it became evident from Murdock's answers that he was talking to a nurse at Hannibal's care home.

However the message that was being communicated was bringing further pressures and Murdock looked strangely subdued as he put down the phone.

"Well?" BA asked.

"Hannibal's not doing so good," Murdock said glumly.

Face was instantly tense once more. "What's wrong?" he asked, leaning forwards, eyes wide.

Murdock shrugged. "He's having difficulty breathing. He's quite ill – pneumonia or something."

"Nurse said he had a bit of a fever when I went to see him this afternoon," BA disclosed.

Peck stood up. "I got to go see him." Guilt was washing through him for over the last few days he had been so involved in things that he had neglected his Colonel. Truth was that he was feeling so much better having something of concern other than Hannibal and he had not been able to face the hostility that he knew Smith would batter him with. Remorse at his weakness forced him into action even though he knew the risk.

"Face," Murdock said as he moved to lay a comforting hand on Peck's shoulder. "You've got Stephens' goons after you. Where is the first place they are gonna look?"

"I'll be careful. How many times did I break you out of the VA under the noses of the military? I have to see him, only for a couple of minutes. I'll meet you guys at the new place."

Murdock and BA exchanged glances, each noting the desperate intensity that haunted Peck's eyes. The big man shrugged his shoulders. "OK muchacho," Murdock said finally. "But remember Hannibal's illness is not your fault and be careful. It you don't show by midnight I am coming to get you, all right?"

He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Peck's lips. Face smiled his old smil;, the power in it seemed to have been re-charged and Murdock felt its warmth.

"Of course, HM. Don't worry about me!" he was positively cocky as he winked and left.

"Hannibal," Face whispered as he moved into the room. He was dressed as a nursing auxiliary, having waited until the patients had been put to bed and the lights dimmed before he made his move. Now he stood beside the bed and gently took hold of the grey-haired man's hand.

Hannibal did not look well at all. His skin was deathly pale and he was hooked up to a number of monitors and machines. His familiar features were covered by a mask supplying him with oxygen. But as Face whispered his name blue eyes opened and focused on Peck, not with the withering glance of the critical Colonel that had been so often apparent in recent months but instead with the warmth of the long missed and beloved friend. The change caused Peck's heart to flutter in his chest.

Smith indicated weakly for his mask to be removed and when Peck lifted it away the old soldier's mouth was smiling. "Face," he breathed.

"I'm here, Hannibal," Peck said, squeezing his hand supportively. "How you doing?"

Smith sniffed and Face had to lean in to catch his frail voice. "Not good, kid. Lungs are shot – too many cigars, it's not going to be long."

Peck shook his head stubbornly. "No, don't say that, please. What can I do for you? Just tell me… anything!"

Smith's smile broadened and he winked. "I got a plan," he wheezed. "You're doing it, kid!" He began to cough pitifully.

Seeing the Colonel's discomfort Peck reapplied the oxygen mask. He let out a long, desperate sigh. His heart breaking, it suddenly seemed very important for him to let Hannibal know just what he felt for him. "I wish…" he began but never finished the sentence for the doors to the room were banged open and three burly men entered, waving semi-automatic pistols brashly in the air.

"Templeton Peck?" the first heavy spat. "We've been waiting for you to show up!"

Peck moved between the heavies and the defenceless man on the bed. "What the hell are you doing?" he cried. "You can't come in like that, there's an ill man in here!"

"Which is why you are going to accompany us to a more suitable place for a discussion, Peck."

"I'm not leaving," Peck retorted stubbornly.

"If the old guy in the bed was dead you'd have to come with us," said the heavy moving threateningly towards the bed. "Do you want me to make it so?"

"You dare touch him and I'll…" Hannibal suddenly grabbed hold of Peck's hand again. His eyes were wide, pleading. Ignoring the impatient intake of breath from his attacker, Peck bent to remove the mask again.

Hannibal sighed. "Doesn't matter," he gasped. "I got the jazz, I give it to you, kid." Peck felt a lump in his throat. He felt like he was losing the thing that he treasured above all else in this world. Smith held his stare uncompromisingly. "Go with 'em, Face. Keep on doing it…"

Peck hesitated, his eyes stinging with tears as he clutched the Colonel's hand. His vision blurring, his mind was seeing numerous images of the times he had shared with this man. Why did it feel like this was the end? Long trusted instincts were screaming at him that this was goodbye. He gulped in a shivering breath.

If it was so, if the unthinkable was happening, he would not give these strangers that assailed him the satisfaction of seeing his pain, his weakness. He remembered a similar farewell in the smoky, damp air of a prison camp in Vietnam, he had held himself together then; he could do so now.

Behind him the goon growled impatiently but Peck ignored it. He bent and kissed Hannibal's forehead. "Thank you," he whispered simply and then replaced the mask covering over those cherished features.

Peck turned back to the men. "Oh how touching," the heavy said snidely. "Come on, Peck, Mr Stephens wants to have a long, painful talk with you."

Peck did not look back to the figure on the bed, if he did so he knew the sight would unravel his inner resolve completely. A barrel of one of the semis was thrust deep into his ribs and a voice hissed in his ear; "Just give me the chance to blow you away!"

As if in a dream Peck allowed himself to be manoeuvred through the care home and out to a car pulled up at the entrance. He felt numb and he hardly cared as they pushed him into the back seat. It was a relief when the foul smelling handkerchief was thrust into his face and the overwhelming blackness rushed through him. Peck embraced the escape into oblivion as a generous gift since it meant he could no longer feel the devastation of his loss.

TBC