A/N: Thank you for the reviews, guys! Glad to see that you're enjoying it. There's a twist in the road for this chapter. This chapter's a little late coming due to ongoing computer problems, but I'm hoping they'll get resolved in the near future. I'm going to go ahead and cite Blood, Sweat and Cheers; Cowboy George; Body Slam; and oh, Wheel of Fortune, why not? Bing translator was used once again for the other languages, though I'd like to think my German classes did me some good. Enjoy!
Hannibal knew to expect the unexpected when it came to H.M. Murdock. The man had knack, no, a habit for being unusual. He redefined the norm, and then still broke regularity. Sometimes it was a scene astoundingly complex, but most of the times Hannibal had been anywhere near dumbstruck were because what Murdock did was so painfully simple.
The man stopped an MP truck carrying the rest of them by milking a cow in the middle of the road. He stuck a cow in front of the truck to rescue them. And it worked. Not to mention the time he walked through a lynch mob with about a dozen grenades dressed as a pregnant lady. That'd been a surreal marriage for Hannibal.
So of course, he shouldn't be surprised to hear that Murdock broke out of the VA under Decker's nose by strolling out through the front door in full dress uniform. Heck, he'd broken the rest of them out of jail like that before.
Still. It did leave one just sort of… gaping.
"Okay, Murdock," Hannibal recovered, looking at the captain. The four of them were in the van, B.A. driving to make sure nobody spotted them. "So you're out now. What do you plan to tell Decker later?"
"The truth," Murdock asserted innocently. "I got bored and decided to take a walk around LA."
So painfully simple.
"He might actually buy that, Hannibal," Face mentioned, still dabbing at his face with a napkin.
"You still got a little lipstick here, Lieutenant," Hannibal informed, gesturing a spot on his face.
"Thanks," Face ducked his head, mildly embarrassed.
"Well, it's good that you have this all figured out, Murdock," Hannibal started in the same voice he used just before they crashed over South Carolina. "But, what do you plan on doing while you're out and about? We don't exactly have a mission."
"Wrong, muchachos," Murdock replied. "We do."
"Oh?" Face asked. B.A. glanced back from the driver's seat.
"I spent half of last night in observation because somebody snuck in to try and sneak me out… unbeknownst to everyone including moi."
"Wait, are saying someone tried to kidnap you?" Face clarified, alarmed.
"Didn't look like it at first, trust me, but this morning I saw a little syringe had fallen between the wall and a bush. Funny, the only thing that kept 'im from succeeding were the MP's everywhere."
"Did you get a look at this guy, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.
"Ah, negatory, Colonel, I couldn't see him around the pillow over my face."
He earned several glances for that, but busied himself with unbuttoning his uniform and slipping on his wadded-up bomber's jacket. His hat came out of a pocket, and instantly he was two steps closer to looking like normal Murdock.
Or perhaps, abnormal Murdock.
"Did you find anything else that we could use to identify this guy?" Hannibal prodded as B.A. rounded an intersection.
"Well, I heard his voice, though it was kind of just one harshly whispered word."
"Hannibal," B.A. said softly from the driver's seat, not moving his head. "This guy's been following us for the past two turns."
Hannibal broke away from Murdock and glanced in the side mirror. A steel-grey sedan rode low behind them. "You sure?"
B.A. nodded. "Positive. We're actually doubling back on the direction we've been going."
Nodding slowly, Hannibal shifted in his seat. "Stay in the crowds, B.A., and don't stop except to get gas."
"You got something in mind, Hannibal?" Face asked as the sergeant complied.
"Well, if we keep driving around all over the city and he doesn't get bored, then we'll know he clearly wants to talk with us."
"Logical," Murdock asserted. Face looked uneasy about the idea.
The car stayed with them for the next hour, growing bold enough to ride directly behind them, not bothering to conceal its tailing. "This guy's insistent, but at least courteous," Hannibal mused. "He's waiting for us to stop."
"Should we?" B.A. asked. He didn't like what the fuel gauge was reading.
"Why not? He's kept up with us all this time…" He leaned forward, scanning the buildings. "Pull over in that parking lot, B.A."
The warehouse looked abandoned so B.A. freelanced the parking lot, parking the van over no less than four spaces. The sedan pulled up beside, and then in front of them. Four men in suits climbed out; three looked identical, they could have all been clones, but the fourth one climbed out of the driver's seat and wore dark blue with light brown hair and a full mustache.
Hannibal kept an eye on them as his own party climbed out of the van. They certainly didn't look like thugs, but he didn't like the government vibe each man seemed to radiate. Especially the triplets- he couldn't see their eyes past the dark shades each wore.
The man in blue with the mustache stepped forward. "Colonel Smith. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"You were hard to ignore standing on our doorstep for the last hour," Hannibal replied, still highly suspicious. The man had a relaxed attitude, but not a cocky one. He radiated sincerity, and for that Hannibal didn't trust him.
"Forgive me for that," he inclined his head. "But I wished to speak to you, and I didn't want to intimidate you into thinking we were after your capture."
"You have commendable patience, then," Hannibal said dryly. "What do you want from us?"
"Actually, I only need one of you," the man said. "I tracked you down because I need to pick up Captain Murdock."
Upon hearing his name, Murdock's head perked up and he stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Hold the telegram," he murmured, moving in front of the man. He squinted, then held up a finger to block out the mustache.
"Blue Gordon?" he asked, surprised.
The man nodded, smiling faintly. "That's one of my names. But yes, H.M."
"What are you doing here?" The shocked tone never left his voice. The rest of the A-Team glanced at each other, unsure of what was going on.
"The dogs howled at the moon last night," Blue Gordon answered.
Murdock stiffened, his demeanor instantly changing. The others picked up on it, and Hannibal moved closer, unsure how such a random sentence could have such a profound effect on the man.
"That's an old one," Murdock remarked. "But it's been awhile, huh?"
"But you now know why I'm here," Gordon replied.
"Uh, would someone please tell the rest of us why you're here?" Face broke in. B.A. growled as well, "You better start talkin', fool."
Unsure whether B.A. addressed Murdock or this Blue Gordon, Hannibal decided to steer things back on track. "Murdock, do you know these people?"
Murdock glanced at him, his shoulders relaxing some. "Yeah, Colonel. They're with the Company."
Both of his eyebrows shot up but all Hannibal said was, "I see."
"Now wait a minute, Blue, was it, was it your guys who tried to break into my room last night?" Murdock gathered.
Gordon visibly winced. "That was… a minor snafu caused by a rookie. Col. Decker's guard caused complications; they would be suspicious of anyone checking you out, looking for the A-team, so our best cover was to make it look like a kidnapping. That operative has since been reassigned."
"I'll bet he has," Murdock muttered darkly, with a rumble in his throat Hannibal had not heard before.
B.A. finally had enough of being kept in the shadows. He shouldered his way between the two and started yelling. "Hey man! I wanna know what's goin' on here! Why is the CIA here? Murdock, why are you talkin' with the CIA, fool? What was all that rap 'bout some dogs howlin' at the moon? I don't believe your name is really Blue Gordon. Who are ya for real, sucka? Why-"
"B.A., tone it down," Hannibal commanded.
B.A. growled, but backed off as Gordon held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"I apologize for the abruptness of this entire meeting, but we are on a tight schedule. Captain Murdock, if you will accompany me to a secure location for debriefing."
"What, they don't memorize their information anymore?" Murdock sniggered.
"This area's secure," Hannibal spoke.
"And how would you know this?" Gordon asked pointedly.
Hannibal just lifted an amused eyebrow. "We wouldn't be talking to you if it wasn't."
Gordon shook his head. "Understandable, but I can't have your presence here."
"We're going, too," Hannibal asserted, as if the answer was obvious.
Gordon pursed his lips. "Unacceptable. You're not with the CIA."
"So it fits perfectly," Face jumped in with a grin. "If we get caught, nobody can pin you guys."
"Besides, you must want somebody on the outside doing the job if you're looking for Murdock," Hannibal reasoned.
"I didn't even know I was still technically with them; thought they didn't employ crazy people," Murdock commented.
Gordon sighed, still alert, and motioned one of the clones to retrieve something from the backseat. He pulled out a large briefcase and set it on the hood of the car, unlatching it and pulling out folders and a large map. Everyone crowded around the hood while the triplets kept watch.
"You were right, Murdock," Gordon began. "The CIA no longer officially recognizes you as an agent. Officially. However, we've encountered a problem which requires your unique skills and position."
He opened a folder and pulled out a file. A man's face was printed on the first page with detailed information following- what wasn't blacked out in ink, that is.
"Agent Jeff Henderson was one of our field operatives for 23 years. After that, he advanced to SSO(1) and worked with our NCS(2) branch before shifting to oversee our correlations with the NSA. About after a year in that position, he turned up AWOL."
"Turncoat agent," Hannibal murmured. "No wonder you're grabbing for outside help."
Gordon nodded. "With his clearance, he had access to all the files on our current agents and other employees, including many sleepers. You can see why we had to find somebody to chase him whom he was not familiar with."
"Yeah, but I'm not the only buried sleeper, why break me out of the psych ward for this?" Murdock inquired.
Gordon unfolded the map, revealing a detailed look of Europe. "We scrounged some last minute phone conversation that didn't get destroyed with his other tapes," he explained. "We believe he's planning to sell government secrets to an East German operative."
"Any KGB?" Murdock asked.
Gordon shook his head. "We don't think so. It's possible that the Soviets are behind this German agent, but they're not directly stepping in." He pointed to a city in Switzerland. "Our intel tells us that they plan to meet in Engelberg, Switzerland, sometime within the next two weeks." He raised his eyes up to the team. "As you know, there is no official Swiss language. The country is divided into regions of German, French, and Italian. This fact, combined with the presence of a German operative, is why we needed Murdock- an outside man who can speak all these languages fluently."
Everyone turned to Murdock. "Ich Weiss nichts, nichts!"* he protested in an exaggerated accent, holding up his hands.
"So what's the objective?" Hannibal asked, directing the focus back on the mission.
"Ideally? To bring Henderson back to the states, where we can resolve this internally. Failing that, kill him."
Everyone quieted. Even Murdock sobered up.
"What supplies will we have? How will we get there?" Hannibal continued.
Gordon regarded him for a moment. "You seem most anxious to do this assignment," he noted suspiciously.
He shrugged. "After what you've told us, there's no going back, is there? This is all top secret, and I don't want another reason for the government to come after us."
"Besides, maybe this will put in a good word for us for those people in Washington," Face added.
Gordon quirked a soft smile. "Of course. For equipment, bring your own. We can supply one man, but not a team. You'll fly out of New York two days from now and drop into Switzerland as tourists. From that point on that's your cover. We will not be in contact with you after you land; after you secure Henderson, you will contact Mr. Terry Long at the US Embassy- tell him to not tarry too long. He'll instruct you from there."
"Rather vague instructions, otherwise," Hannibal pointed out.
"You're the A-Team," Gordon replied dryly. "Would you want me to tell you how to do your job?"
Hannibal grinned. "Touché."
B.A. narrowed his eyes. "Hold on. New York in two days? That means flyin'. Same with goin' to Switzerland. I ain't flyin', Hannibal. I ain't gettin' on another airplane."
"That's alright, Sergeant, you can just stay behind," Gordon said airily.
B.A. growled at him, but cast a nervous glance at Hannibal.
"It's volunteer only, B.A. If you don't want to go, you don't have to," Hannibal mentioned lightly.
"Aw, man," Murdock complained. "If it's volunteer, why can't I stay behind with Big Guy?"
"Shut up, fool! We're goin' to Switzerland, and I don't wanna hear another word otherwise!"
Hannibal lit a fresh cigar and grinned around it. "So it's settled. I love it."
(1) Specialized Skills Officer
(2) National Clandestine Service
*I know nothing, nothing! ;)