A/N: Hey guys! Again, I apologize for the wait. Between school, work, homework, a car accident and my own laziness this chapter got written in increments instead of one straight flush. But here it is! And thank you for all the reviews! For the translations here I (once again) have used Bing Translator, but also what I remember from my own German classes (and Hogan's Heroes, I'll admit), so I'm crossing my fingers that the grammar's right (if not, I apologize). Also, considering I have a lot, I've broken up the foreign conversations into two translated parts at the bottom- you'll see what I'm talking about. Some are not word-for-word translations, but instead a general idea of what's being said.

Anyways, enjoy reading!

B.A. watched the TV, bored with the show, but alert for any change. On the screen was a visual of the hallway where Henderson was staying, broadcast live from their camera. As the night deepened, there'd been no change. The others were asleep, but B.A. found himself slightly wired after the long plane snooze and the morning nap. He volunteered to watch the hall for the night.

Maybe he slipped into a light trance, because the night went by faster than he expected. Before he knew it, Hannibal was emerging from the other room, white trench coat and black gloves on.

"Anything, B.A.?" he asked.

"Not yet," he replied, stretching. "Man was down for the night."

Hannibal nodded, still serious. "Alright. That's good. If he makes any midnight trips in the future, then we'll know that the exchange is going down."

"Right. But what if it happens during the day?"

Hannibal stuck a cigar in his mouth and grinned. "Then we'll figure something out."

He was lighting it when Face strode out of his room, prim and proper as always. "Any plans for today, Colonel?"

"O'e 'o'ent," he said around his cigar. Finally getting to light, he drew a long puff before speaking. "Yes, Face. I have plenty of plans for today. We're undercover as tourists, remember? So we're going to tour some sites."

"Really?" Face and B.A. said together, both incredulous.

"Hannibal, in case you don't remember, but we're trying to nab a CIA agent," Face explained.

"Oh I know. And that's why we're going to tour the city," he agreed, still grinning. He crossed over to Face.

"Tour the city," the conman echoed, still smiling in disbelief.

"Mm-hm," Hannibal settled an arm on Face's shoulder and looked out in front of them. "We're going to see all the attractive sites it has to offer, such as strategic cut-off points, places for snipers, crowded areas, shadowed alleys… maybe even buy a few souvenirs, like knock-out drugs and nylon rope." He grinned, chewing his cigar at the look on Face's face.

"Now we're talkin'," B.A. grinned.

If there was such a thing as the 7 Mental Wonders of the World, Hannibal's mind would be among them.

Come to think of it, Murdock's would be right up there, too, if simply for its unexplainable intricacy. But Hannibal's was a marvel unto itself as well, due to the way he had the uncanny ability to decipher situations and people in an almost precognitive manner.

Very rarely was Hannibal ever wrong about somebody. Even rarer was when he didn't have a plan; formed by piecing together bits of a landscape and various items in a unique, creative, and unexpected way. One walk through downtown and he knew exactly how to ensnare Henderson.

It was just a matter of timing it right.

Henderson would make his move at night. He was sure of it. And then Hannibal casually tipped the scales in favor of this night by having Face put in a reservation at the Ristorante Al Monestero under the name of George W. Smith. One couldn't get much more American than that. It would spook Henderson into action.

Face would be back soon from setting up his location. B.A. was down tinkering with a rental car. Murdock was pacing wildly about the room muttering and laughing in German, getting ready. Hannibal lit another cigar as he watched the night darken. On the TV screen, the camera continued to display the fourth floor hallway.

"Mein Oberst! Funktioniert ein solcher Plan?" Murdock crowed in a squeaky voice, stopping short in front of Hannibal with one eye open.

Hannibal removed his cigar. "It's a brilliant plan, Murdock. It'll work, and with any luck, we won't hit too many snags."

Murdock nodded once exaggeratedly. "Klingt gut. Truppen! Bei Achtung!"

Hannibal chuckled as Murdock paraded around the room, commanding an imaginary army. Not for the first time, he wondered how he became a CIA agent in the first place. Oh, when he thought about it he could see why. Murdock made an excellent spy. His impersonations, lingual abilities, and myriad of skills made him an invaluable asset in the area of espionage. After all, how many multi-lingual, innovative, character-actor, singing, resourceful, photographic-memory, invisible dog toting, happy-go-lucky, slightly insane veteran pilots were there?

"Macht schnell, Männer,before the fruit bats steal our helmets!"

Still. How?

There was a rustle at the door and they turned to see Face enter. "Ah, B.A.'s finishing up with that car, Hannibal; he'll be up in a minute."

"Good. How'd everything go at your end?" he stretched.

"Oh, fine, just fine. I'm all set up at the window and got a perfect view of the square," he flashed his smile.

"Great. And you've got the Novacaine?"

Face held up the bottle. "From our personal B.A. stash," he grinned.

B.A. entered at that moment through the door. "Car's ready, Hannibal. I've upgraded the tires and made some improvements to the engine to make it faster."

Hannibal grinned. "Great; I love a getaway vehicle." Everyone gravitated to a loose circle as he continued. "Everyone clear on their parts?"

"Jawohl," Murdock replied seriously.

"Face, Murdock, I want you two in position in an hour from now. I'll keep watch on the set and radio you when Henderson leaves the hotel. B.A., have that car ready on the corner. In case things go south I want you there and ready to intervene if necessary. I'll catch up with you there."

"Right."

"Gotcha, Colonel."

Hannibal rolled his sleeve down and checked his watch. "Alright, last call for snacks."

"Dibs on the peanut-butter crackers!" Murdock shouted, leaping over the couch into the kitchen. B.A. shook his head and followed at a more sedate pace, aiming for the fridge. While the two busied themselves, Face drifted over closer to Hannibal.

"Hannibal, a question if you don't mind me asking."

Hannibal motioned for him to continue.

Face lowered his voice. "How are you so sure that Henderson will make a move tonight?"

"Combination of reason," he answered. "One, we've been giving the paranoid man a few American scares. Two, while you can do a briefcase switch in broad daylight, you can't deliver a long tirade of memorized information- too many people could overhear that conversation out on the street. And three," he smiled. "I can tell."

Face nodded, his concerns only somewhat quelled. He didn't question Hannibal's intuition, however. Not in this case. It was the same knack each of them had, in a certain degree. Not that Face liked to brag, but he considered himself to be a fairly good judge of the female character. He knew their ins and their outs and was very adept at reading and, ah, accompanying them. B.A. was great with children. The man had an innate ability to calm, rally, and otherwise handle the little urchins. Murdock was a natural with animals. Be it dog, horse, crocodile, or invisible, Murdock was the one who would befriend the creature and get anything out of them.

Hannibal's specialty was men.

Motives, mindsets, personalities- he always managed to figure out an entire person from only a brief face-to-face meeting. It was why he was the one who screened all of their clients. It was how he managed to get under the next bad guy's skin and twist him to his will. He knew how the other mind worked.

So if Hannibal said Henderson was leaving the hotel that night, then by gum he was.

And they would be ready.

Murdock stuffed his hands deeper in his pocket, bouncing on his toes to stave off the cold. Switzerland was lovely- but also chilly. Especially at night.

He loitered in the square in front of the Ristorante Al Monestero. The collar to his coat was turned up, and his hat was pulled down low over his face. One couldn't be too careful about identification- especially when up against another CIA agent.

There was a crackling in his left ear. "Okay, our hen's left the chicken coop. He should be outside in three minutes. Murdock? You're on."

He belayed no outward sign of acknowledgement to Hannibal's words. Instead, he drifted slowly to the second-closest lamppost to the hotel and pulled out a lighter.

Three minutes later, Henderson walked out. He stopped in front of the doors on the sidewalk, looking left and right as if trying to decide which direction to go. Finally, he chose right.

Murdock grinned.

Henderson just swept by him when he called out.

"Eine cigarette, bitte?"

Henderson stopped and turned towards him. Murdock raised his head.

"Nun?"

Digging in his pocket, the agent pulled out a pack and tossed one to Murdock. "Danke," Murdock said, thanking him.

"Es war nichts," Henderson waved off.

So. Looks like the Italian merchant has been dropped.

"Woher kommst Sie?" Murdock continued.

"Berlin," he replied, standing beside him by the lamppost.

"Ah." Murdock raised his head and idly looked at the building across the street. Most of its windows were dark. Didn't mean that the rooms were unoccupied.

He finally turned and fully faced Henderson. "Herr Henderson, Ich glaube wir haben Geschäft diskutieren."

Maybe he was expecting shock on Henderson's face. Maybe he was expecting a glance to see who was around before diving into detailed, classified information.

He was not expecting a gun to be drawn with the speed of a viper.

Murdock dove to the left as the shot cracked past, missing him by centimeters. Henderson took off running, and he could hear Face yelling into the radio for B.A. through the earpiece. There was another whizzing sound and a screech of car tires as B.A. tore the rental around the corner.

Please don't miss, Face, tell me you didn't miss.

Head pressed against the pavement, Murdock's eyes widened as his racing mind suddenly put it together.

Switzerland was a trap.

...

Face, in the building across the street, was relying on his sniper skills. Granted, this was his first non-lead bullet to fire, and while waiting he felt almost silly that he was sitting behind essentially a high-powered dart gun.

He was grateful for it when Murdock suddenly threw himself sideways and Henderson took off running. Face shouted for B.A. through the radio as he took aim. Firing, the dart sailed true and caught the agent on the arm. He saw him wrench it off almost immediately, but with any luck the drug had already been injected into his system.

Sure enough, Henderson was wobbling by the time B.A. pulled up in front of him and he and Hannibal got out. They practically caught Henderson as he collapsed. When Face saw Murdock get to his feet and jog over to the car, he finally felt comfortable in leaving his post.

He should feel glad, he reflected. They had Henderson.

But how did he know who they were?

When the others swung by in the rental to pick him up, he caught Murdock's eye, and instantly knew that the man knew the answer.

Translations:

Murdock in the hotel room:

My Colonel, will such a plan work?

Sounds good. Troops! At attention!

Quickly, men!

Yes sir.

Murdock and Henderson:

A cigarette, please?

Well?

Thank you.

It was nothing.

Where are you from?

Mr. Henderson, I believe we have business to discuss.