A/N: And here we have the action about to start... As this is one of Hannibal's plans, don't expect it to go smoothly. Oh, and in answer to Lakshimbai's query, this isn't going to turn into an HC fic, it's just I liked it better when they were acting all flirty with each other. You know, back before TPTB decided to ruin everyone's lives by giving them ever more angst. All reviews appreciated.

Murdoch knew that BA thought he was crazy. Well, Hannibal and Face did too, but they were slightly different. Still, the whole team knew that Murdoch was always sane when it mattered most. When it came down to the wire, when someone's life depended on it, HM Murdoch was as sane as the next man. It never lasted, and he preferred being mad, but when it counted, he could stop the madness. At that moment, Murdoch was very serious. Face was the real sniper in their team, he was the one who had won prizes for shooting, but Face was also the only one who could sell anyone anything. And they needed Face to sell the story to the Noches. So Murdoch was given the sniper's rifle, and he had taken up position on top of a handy building that gave him a perfect line of sight into the pool house when Face was conducting his latest scam.

He had been there for hours, waiting, just in case Face needed the cover. If things looked like they were going south, then Murdoch could give the Lieutenant the vital few seconds he would need to escape. The Noches hadn't been surprised when Face – Calvin Rees for this night – had walked in, as Marissa had obviously told them about her visitor. Murdoch could see, through his telescopic sight, Face explaining, an easy, confident smile on his handsome face. So far, the Noches were only looking perplexed and baffled, not angry, but that could change in a flash and Murdoch would be ready. One of the Noches threw back his head and laughed, and Murdoch relaxed minutely. This was going to go all right. He'd stay watchful, but they'd bought Face's scam.

Sure enough, the leader leant forward and shook Face by the hand, a smile on his face. The conman walked out of the pool house, but Murdoch didn't move. He stayed in place until Face was well clear of the house, until Hannibal gave him the all clear over the radio. Only then did he pack up the rifle and rejoin the others.

Face was grinning, and Hannibal looked proud. Murdoch occasionally wondered if Face knew that Hannibal looked at him that way. As a father looks at a favourite son. Probably not, the pilot decided. "So, how'd it go Facey?"

Face gave him his widest, most charming smile. "You're now looking at the man contracted to kill Lieutenant Horatio Caine."

The note was delivered to CSI late that night, and the on duty desk sergeant delivered it straight to Horatio, still pacing his office, still looking for a way to prove the A-Team's innocence. He'd sent the others home, determined that they should get some rest, even if he couldn't. He knew he wouldn't sleep, not with this messy situation, and had decided not to even try. There had to be a way of proving their innocence. If there was, however, he couldn't see it. The army were not about to overturn a conviction based on some dates that didn't quite match up, not without some good, solid evidence to back that up. And they weren't going to like the idea that someone in the army had set up Hannibal and the others. So Horatio continued to pace.

The note was typed, post-marked Biscayne, and on plain white paper. Careful not to show any emotion while anyone walking past his office could see, Horatio read the note in growing incredulity. Hannibal had a reputation for outlandish, unorthodox plans, but this sounded like the maddest idea Horatio had ever heard. Lieutenant, Face now holds the Mala Noche contract to kill you, and now we need to force the Noches out of Miami for good. All I need you to do is come to the docks, near Pier 25, at noon tomorrow and all will become clear. You'll need your weapon, but you should be perfectly safe. Probably best if you come alone, your friends might get trigger-happy and arrest us again. It was signed H, and Horatio had to smile at the echoing of his own nickname.

His smile turned grim again as he reread the note. So Face was being paid to kill him, and they wanted him to show up alone at the docks, without backup. If anyone else had suggested it, Horatio would have shot down the plan instantly. It sounded more like a set-up than a plan, and it was Horatio who would pay the price if he turned out to be wrong about the A-Team. Given that the Noches had apparently offered to pay five million dollars to the man who killed him, it would be a tempting prize for any mercenaries on the run from the law.

"Something on your mind?" Calleigh was leaning against the doorframe, a wide smile lighting her eyes.

"I thought I told you to go home and get some rest," Horatio replied, shaking his head. Sometimes he wondered if he really set the best example for his team. They all seemed to have copied his workaholic nature. "Why are you still here?"

"Same reason you are," she shrugged. "And besides, I went home. I went home, had some dinner, had a shower, got changed and then came back here. You never said we had to stay home." He shot her a warning look, which she cheerfully ignored. "So, what's on your mind?" As he had already trusted Calleigh with his suspicions about the A-Team's innocence, Horatio didn't hesitate in handing her the note. She read it with an arched eyebrow and then looked at him. "You realise, of course, that this could be a trap, and they could just kill you?"

"I do." He sighed heavily. "But I can't help trusting Hannibal."

"What happened to follow the evidence, not your instincts?" she teased him. "Seriously though, all the evidence says the A-Team are criminals, and they've just told you that Face is being paid to kill you. Aren't you the slightest bit suspicious about them?"

"Of course." Horatio smiled as a plan occurred to him. "That's why you're coming with me tomorrow."

"What?!"

"You're the best shot in the department Cal. If anyone should be covering my back, it's you."

She coloured at the compliment and then shook her head. "Horatio, you should have more than one person with you. Besides, they want you to come alone. Hannibal might not do anything if I'm with you."

"You won't be with me Cal. You're going to be in position on the roof, armed with one of those sniper rifles you like so much. That way you're not in danger, but you can keep an eye on me."

Only Horatio, she thought in exasperation, would come up with a plan to keep her safe, when it was his life that was in danger in the first place. Still, if she didn't agree, the man was stubborn enough to go by himself. "I still think you're going to need more than one person. What about Frank? He'd back you up all the way."

One look at the stubborn set of her jaw, and Horatio gave in. Despite her small stature and usually sunny nature, he'd learned from experience that when Calleigh Duquesne set her heart on something, she invariably got it. "I'll talk to Frank in the morning, and make sure he knows the score. We're walking a dangerous line here Calleigh. You know Stetler's after the lab, so we've got to make sure that if the A-Team get away, it doesn't look like we helped them."

"It's a good job we've got you to come up with a plan then." Calleigh smiled. "Hey, have you ever thought that Hannibal and you are really similar?" He only looked at her and she laughed. "No, really. You're both smart, you both come up with occasionally off-beat plans that always work, and you've both got teams that will always support you."

"And for that, I am grateful. Go home and get some rest, Cal. I mean it this time." She nodded and turned to go, only to pause at the door as he called her name. "And if you see me pick up a cigar, you have my permission to shoot me."