AN: Sorry there was no update last Monday; I was in hospital. Fingers crossed it's back to normal now :)

Q the omnipotent night fury: Thanks XD I don't mind at all if you want to send me a story, but I think it fair to warn you that there are some kinds of A-Team fic I don't read: namely slash and/or main – ie, Team – character death. I do have other likes and dislikes (not keen on any fic with Amy in, although I'll give it a fair try; there are some good ones out there) but those two are absolute no-nos for me :)

dawn wilkerson: Well, I'm more of a novelist than a screenwriter, but thanks :) I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Why me?

I mean, seriously, why me? Why does all the bad stuff always happen to me? Why can't one of the other members of the A-Team ever get captured and subjected to varying forms of unpleasantness for a change? Why doesn't anyone ever kidnap BA, or Hannibal? Is that really too much to ask?

Sorry. Got a little carried away there. And no, I didn't really want BA or Hannibal to get kidnapped, let alone stuck in a place like this.

Still bugs the designer pants off me, though.

Alright, alright, I'll get on with it! Jeez...

I found the light switch on the wall and pressed it, hoping it really was the light switch and not, say, the switch designed to open a trapdoor and dump me and Nadia into a pool full of electric eels.

There was a soft hum and two fluorescent lights flickered into life above our heads, revealing the latest part of our little gauntlet of hell.

It turned out to be a barbwire fence.

Well, several barbwire fences, actually. It was hard to count them from the front, but I guessed there to be about seven or eight – maybe even a couple more – and a door at the far end. That was clear enough; if we wanted out, we'd have to find a way over or through the fences.

I turned to check on the door we'd just come through. Locked. Doors seemed to do that in this place; they let you through only to lock themselves behind you. Was there a way to lock doors by remote control? Or did some doors lock automatically when you closed them? I still couldn't shake the feeling that we were being followed, but if they'd followed us closely enough to lock the door in the thirty seconds or so since I'd shut it, I was sure I would have known about them.

With no other immediate options, I examined the first fence more closely, listening for the telltale hum of electricity. I guess if it was electrified, I might be safe if I jumped up onto it, but I wasn't willing to risk it. I've heard people say it's possible to climb electric fences without getting a shock so long as you don't come in contact with the ground, but funnily enough, none of those people have ever seemed too keen to try it out.

I inched closer. There was nothing; no electric buzz, no faint smell of ozone (although I wouldn't expect that unless I was standing right next to the power source) and I risked reaching out and grasping it with one hand.

When it failed to blast me across the room, I tried another hand. Still safe. I glanced back at Nadia, who had kept a wary distance, and said, "I think it's okay."

Nadia hesitated. "So...we have to climb these fences? That's it? Doesn't that seem a little too, well, simple?"

Looking back on it, I guess it did. But then, most things in life are simple. Becoming a major Hollywood star is simple: all you need to do is get the lead role in a few blockbuster movies. Becoming a multimillionaire is simple: you just invent something everyone wants and sell it to them, or buy a winning lottery ticket. Simple doesn't mean easy.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that thinking about all this was probably why I made the mistake of saying what I said next.

"Nah, it'll be fine. Trust me. I've done this before."

I'd also like to point out that I wasn't feeling anywhere near as light-hearted as this probably makes me sound. I was just trying to put a brave face on it for Nadia's sake. I don't think it helped, but equally I don't think that Yeah, you're right, there must be some kinda trap here and we're both gonna die in this room would have been much use either.

I studied the walls on either side of us, as far as I could. There's nothing like a near-death experience to make you paranoid, and the blades in that corridor had been pretty near. I wanted to make sure there were no nasty little holes through which a conveniently placed gun could be fired.

Unable to find any, I returned my attention to the fences and shifted my weight uneasily. Climbing barbwire fences isn't exactly difficult, but it's not the kind of job you can rush either. It takes time, and time was something I didn't think we had.

I examined my bag, trying to work out if what I had in there would be much use here. Net contents: one rutabaga costume and one plastic spear for BA which I'd forgotten about until now.

I pulled the spear out and looked at it. Maybe I could use it to prop up the bottom line of wire. Both Nadia and I were slim; I thought we could both wriggle under the wire without too much trouble.

A little experimentation on my part soon put paid to that idea and very nearly snapped the spear into the bargain. The fencing was strung tightly, which was good from a climbing point of view – it meant there was very little chance that it would bend back on top of us if we tried – but too stiff to lift up, and the spear was too weak to support it. Oh well. It had been worth a try. Looked like it was going to be back to basics.

Stripping my t-shirt off and trying very hard not to think about the fact that I was doing so in front of an adolescent girl (while I'm not interested in them until they're old enough to at least vote, most of them seem very interested in me), I tossed it up over the top of the fence. It caught, and hung there.

Nadia looked up at it with interest. "What's that for?"

"Ah." I held up a hand in my best watch-me-show-off pose (as Hannibal would call it; me, I don't think that going first to test the safety of a brilliantly constructed safety device counts as showing off) and started to climb the fence, throwing my whole weight back in an effort to stop my arms and stomach getting scratched. It worked; the fence sagged a little, but was strong enough to support my weight.

At the top, I levered myself over, the t-shirt protecting me from the worst of the barbs, and hung for a few seconds before dropping the five feet or so to the ground. All in all, I was pretty impressed with myself, particularly when you consider I'd done the climbing with that damn costume in a bag. Hannibal better appreciate everything I was going through to bring him this stupid rutabaga outfit.

Turning back, I looked at Nadia.

"Think you can..."

The words died in my throat as she hauled herself easily to the top, swung over with a lot more grace than me, much as I hated to admit it, and then dropped neatly next to me.

"Not bad," I allowed. Hey, I can't help it if I'm competitive. It's in my nature; if you're not the best, the fastest and the smartest kid, nobody's gonna want to adopt you, or at least that was what we were always taught.

"Thanks." Nadia handed me my t-shirt and watched as I threw it onto the next fence. This wasn't turning out to be too bad. Of course, it helped that we were both fit and I was ex-Army with a sadistic commander who insisted on forcing me over various obstacle courses and up and down cargo nets. This room would probably be torture if you were out of shape.

Well, if I got out of this in one piece, I would never, ever complain about those obstacle courses again. At least, not to the others. I never complain about them to Hannibal because he just says that I obviously haven't done it enough to appreciate the work he put into setting them up and I wind up having to do another circuit.

Still, like I said, I thought we could probably get through this room without anything too bad happening. I should have known better.

We were on the fourth fence when it happened. This time I'd sent Nadia over first, not because I had any idea of using her as some kind of human shield (come on, even I'm not that self-centered!) but because my t-shirt was starting to look distinctly the worse for wear and I wanted her to get the most protection from it before it gave up completely.

Again, Nadia scampered up the fence like a monkey, swung herself over the top and dropped neatly to the ground.

"You know, you're pretty good at this," I told her, a little more sincerely than last time.

Nadia shrugged. "I like gymnastics. I was all set to try out for the high school team this year, only..."

Her voice tailed off and she looked away as I started climbing.

"Only what?" I asked, and immediately kicked myself. I knew what; she'd been grabbed, kidnapped and strapped to a timber slicer. Well, even someone as eloquent and well-spoken as me can say the wrong thing occasionally.

I was just working out an adequate sounding apology in my head when my t-shirt ripped and I tumbled to the ground a lot less elegantly than Nadia.

"Face? Are you okay?"

At least she didn't sound like she was trying not to laugh. I pushed myself to my feet and glanced up at the shredded t-shirt.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think the t-shirt's had it, though."

Nadia glanced up at the fence as if trying to work out the best way of climbing it without protection.

"What do we do?"

An idea hit me and I grinned, holding up the bag with Hannibal's costume in it. "We improvise."

Hannibal's rutabaga costume was not a good choice for California, being stuffed full of thick padding and extra material (I told you I was pissed at him; it was just a shame they'd sold out of pumpkin costumes).

It was, however, an excellent choice for climbing over several barbwire fences. I didn't think he'd mind my using it to stay alive; he's usually pretty understanding about life-and-death situations. I used the nearest fence to rip it open, then reached in and pulled out what looked like yards of material.

Nadia was staring at me, wearing the expression of someone who isn't sure she wants to know. "Uh..."

"Halloween costume for a friend of mine." I examined the material more closely: thin gauze. Well, it would do, if I layered it thickly enough. At least it looked like there was enough to take us over the rest of the fences.

"Halloween?"

I glanced at her, surprised. "Yeah, it's tomorrow. Or it was. Probably tonight now; I'm not sure how long I've been in here. Why?" I frowned slightly as I thought about this for the first time. "How long have you been in here?"

Nadia shook her head, looking unsure. "I...don't know. Days, maybe. Weeks? I remember waking up in a small room. I don't know how long I was there. Someone kept shoving food through a small hole in the door but I never saw who it was."

I frowned a little. "Wait a minute. When I found you on that slicer you told me you were walking back from a nightclub when someone hit you on the head and when you woke up you were there."

"I meant there as in this place, not on that...thing." Nadia shivered. "Can we keep going? I don't think it's a good idea to stand around for long."

I nodded. "Sure. I think we've got enough padding here for the rest."

"Good. It smells nice in here, but I still don't want to stay."

I finished throwing the padding on the top of the next fence and stared at her. "Smells nice?"

She nodded. "Uh huh. Can't you smell it? Like ripe fruit."

Now she mentioned it, I could smell it; a faint, sweet smell that made a large chunk of my insides freeze. My outsides, however, had more sense and before I was really aware of it I'd ripped off a huge piece of costume material – not from the inside, which probably wasn't thick enough, but the external fabric – and shoved it at her.

"Uh..."

"Wrap it around your mouth and nose and move! Now!" I snapped when she hesitated. I was already tearing another strip of fabric off for myself. Like fruity smelling white sap (apricot-smelling, to be precise; ninety nine point nine percent of jungle vegetation with apricot-smelling sap is highly poisonous. And Hannibal thought I didn't pay attention to his lectures!) the sudden smell of fruit where there is no fruit is enough to stop a soldier in his tracks. Not for very long though.

Not if he wants to live. Fruit smell means gas. Gas means death.

I know that look. You're rolling your eyes and thinking, Gee, Face, they could just have been trying to psych you out with the latest in fruity air fresheners. Fair point. It's even a likely one; so far all I'd encountered were simple mechanical devices. Manufacturing nerve gas or tear gas is a far more specialized field; I'm not sure whether it would take longer to learn how to make it or to find a cache and work out how to steal it. I'm also not sure how you make any kind of gas like that without inhaling it yourself, but that wasn't important just then.

The trouble was, it's a lot harder to override instincts than it is intelligence. It's like the soldiers who hit the deck whenever they hear a car backfire. Instinct and training both throw them flat on the floor, even as intelligence tells them that it's okay, that they're an American soldier on American soil and so they're safe from hostilities (at least, that's the theory; the poor saps who managed to drag themselves back from Vietnam alive weren't too popular at home, by all accounts).

If you want a more practical example, find a realistic looking plastic spider and put it on your table, then invite your arachnophobic neighbor around for a coffee. I guarantee that when they see that plastic spider, they're not going to hang around waiting to find out whether or not it's real; they're going to get out your kitchen so fast they'll leave smoke trails. Instinct trumps intelligence every time. I mean, come on, would you take the risk?

Nadia didn't seem too worried, or rather, she was only nervous because I was. I'd seen victims of nerve agents in Vietnam. Believe me, it's not a nice way to die. I still wasn't sure if whatever was pumping into the room was lethal, but I doubted it would be good.

"Go!" I pushed her toward the fence and nearly impaled her on it before taking my own advice and scrambling up that fence as fast as my already burning muscles would allow.

Nadia was up and over in a flash, then she turned back and her eyes widened as she saw I'd left the bag behind.

"What about the costume?"

"Damn the costume! We don't have time to wrap every damn fence, now move it!" I wasn't sure how much of my speech was intelligible through my makeshift gas mask, so I accompanied it with a pointing finger and my best officer glare. I have a very good glare, if I say so myself.

It seemed to work; Nadia turned and clambered up the sixth fence and that was when I got my first taste of whatever was pumping into that room and my lungs turned to fire.

It was like nothing I'd ever experienced, and I'd done the gas mask test in Basic just like every other soldier. Breathing was agony, like someone had wrapped several cords of that barbwire around my lungs and suddenly yanked them tight. I stumbled forward, right into Fence Number Six. Barbs stuck into my skin, but I was hardly aware of them. It wasn't until much later when I finally saw my reflection and how close I had come that I would thank my lucky stars that one of them hadn't pierced my eyes.

At the moment, I was still working on pure instinct and clambered up the fence, acquiring several more scratches along the way. I was vaguely aware of Nadia ahead...was she slowing down? It looked like it, although that may have been my imagination.

Fence seven. Up and over. My vision was wobbling crazily – so was my body, if it came to it – and I didn't reach the last fence so much as collapse against it.

One more. C'mon kid. You can do it. This person doesn't seem to use the same tricks twice, so whatever's on the other side of that door, it's not going to be more gas.

My Hannibal-Voice again. Goddamn him. Couldn't he even let me be gassed to death in peace?

Move it, Lieutenant. You're Special Forces; start acting like it.

I moved one hand up and squeezed the wire tightly. I think I gripped one of the barbs, but I was too far out of it to really notice. If I moved, maybe Hannibal would shut up.

Muscles and lungs burning, I dragged myself over the last one, misjudged the distance to the ground and landed badly. Pain shot up my ankle and I collapsed again.

We weren't going to make it. My watering eyes could see three doors and I wasn't sure which one to open, but I guess it didn't matter since I was coughing too hard to make it any further. I could dimly see Nadia, who had made it to the door but seemed to be struggling with the handle. I hoped this was the end of the gauntlet, that at least she'd make it out.

The door opened with a clang that sounded like a death knell. I could make out a figure standing there but couldn't see any details.

This is it. You failed. You're dying here and he's come to see the end for himself, right before he presses the Eject button on your death video and sends it straight to Hannibal.

It was the last conscious thought I had before the world faded to black.

Okay, so hopefully the next part should be up next Monday at around the same time ;) In the meantime, hope you liked this one and if you read, please review!