I guess I didn't realize just how close I was to the end of this story until I went and wrote another chapter of it the other day ... so I suppose it would be remiss of me not to continue, huh?

DISCLAIMER: I own jack (and no, that's not a dude).


Murdock shouted into the dark warehouse as soon as he and Hannibal stepped through the side door, avoiding the giant garage door opening for the trucks that had originally used the place. "Helloooooooooooooo-" He swiftly changed tack halfway through the word, turning it into the first song that popped into his head. "Dolly, oh hellooooo, Dolly! …" He paused and listened to the dark silence, then tried again in a stage whisper. "Anybody home?"

There were shuffles in the darkness around them, and Murdock knew that Hannibal had heard them just as well as he had. They were surrounded, and these guys had undoubtably prepared for them.

"We got your message, slime-balls." Hannibal's cigar had been all smoked out before they'd even left Shaaron's house earlier, so now his words were clear and unhindered. "Ya'mind comin' out from under the blankets so I can see your ugly faces?"

The lights flicked on immediately after that, revealing that their ears hadn't deceived them. They were indeed surrounded on all sides, and Murdock was surprised to find that he recognized almost everyone who had a gun trained on he and his colonel. "Hey, I know you Dollies!" He found his mouth talking without his brain, and the various guns shifted to point at him.

"None of you move." One of the men spat, and Murdock identified him as a smuggler who had threatened an old ship owner in San Francisco at least two years ago. The man's son and daughter––twins––had come to the A-Team and they'd put the man away a week later.

"Well, Colonel." Murdock commented in a quiet aside. "Looks like you were right. We know every single one of these ugly mudsuckers, an' I think they know us back."


"You look like crap, suckah." BA spoke gruffly when the lights were turned on, revealing his disheveled teammate at the nearby switch, Shaaron just behind him, shaking a little after the ordeal.

They'd won the fight, leaving a heap of men and bits of broken everything everywhere. For a couple of crazy moments, BA thought that a few of the men on the floor looked familiar, but he soon shrugged it off.

"Thanks." The lieutenant spoke sarcastically, and crossed the room to BA, who noted the rumpled, damp suit, the bloody nose and the two swiftly blackening eyes (BA was sure the other guys looked worse if they'd dared to hit the con-man in his face). Oh yeah, Face was in a bad mood. BA himself personally felt much better after having torn into the suckers who were responsible for Frankie's disappearance (and the resulting milk shortage which he was still mad about).

"My house …" Shaaron was obviously in shock, speaking before Face could lay into BA. Immediately, the former changed tack.

"Shaaron, you gave your location to the police, so they should be here soon, okay?"

"What about …" She pointed to the men on the floor amongst the broken bits of porcelain.

"Ah- we'll take care of them, okay Shaaron?" Face walked over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You were very brave today, thank you for helping us."

She nodded absently, her eyes still on the glass-covered floor. Face turned to look at BA, who looked out the window, then gave a nod to the lieutenant. Face took her by the hand, leading her to the couch and helping her sit down. "Shaaron, we have to leave now. The police will be here soon, and they'll help you, but you have to tell them about these men."

BA kept his eyes on the street outside, listening for the incoming police, but he heard her come out of it a little to ask, "What about you?"

"We gonna go get the rest-a those suckahs."

"Yeah, don't worry about us." Face shook glass off of a quilt, unfolding it to wrap it around the shaking girl. "We'll make sure these guys never bother you again."

"O-okay." She nodded finally, and Face stood away from the couch just as BA turned his attention back to the window, having caught flashing lights in the corner of his vision.

"Time to leave, Face." There were several police cars pulling up in front of the house, and Face blanched when he saw them, making his black eyes even starker against his pale skin.

"Right. I've got the keys, we parked out back anyway." The con-man agreed, proffering the keychain. "Let's head out." He turned to Shaaron once more. "Thank you for everything, Shaaron. We'll make sure nothing happens to you because of it."

BA merely nodded with a grunt, following the lieutenant out the still intact back door and silently speculating on whether or not Hannibal's plan would work. Sometimes he wondered if Murdock wasn't the crazy one on the team, Hannibal being the one to make him ponder that, and after the latest plan he found himself questioning their leader's sanity once again.

Face handed him the keys and they both got into the car, then BA pulled out quietly with the lights off. As soon as they were clear of the area, he stepped on it, knowing that the Colonel would need them sooner rather than later, despite how confident he'd sounded when he'd laid out the insanely simple (simply insane?) plan.

"Agh." Face mumbled from the passenger seat, using the passing streetlights to look at his reflection in a pocket-mirror and dab at his bloody nose with a handkerchief that only managed to spread the blood around. "This is not how I wanted to spend today."

BA didn't respond, knowing that Face wasn't looking for conversation, rather filling the empty silence that left too much room for dark thoughts. Face fell silent again though, as though pondering his next question before asking it. "Do you think this car can survive it?"

"It had better, or Santana's never gettin' it back, man." BA answered it honestly, and Face nodded with a huff of agreement.


Frankie didn't know how long he'd just been lying there, staring at the sky, but he loved every moment of it. The stars had never looked so beautiful to him in all his life, and he felt depressed that the sky was beginning to lighten in the East. He also felt more than a little remorse about the fact that he'd have to move again.

When he finally did move, he felt almost ready to cry. He was so tired, and he just wanted to sleep. The concrete ground had been the most wonderful thing he'd ever experienced in his whole life, and that included pretending to make a plane take off (that had been admittedly fun), and blowing things up.

Frankie knew he had to get out of this scrapyard while he still could though, and as he stood painfully, he tried to decide between going out the front or the back. They hadn't discovered his disappearance yet (which was surprising, and he wondered what was keeping them, not that he didn't appreciate whatever it was) so the back way was completely plausible, and he began sneaking towards it, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, despite the fact that he was leaving drops of blood every few paces and breathing really loudly. He couldn't help it though, he was in a lot of pain, and it felt like everything was throbbing.

It didn't help at all when there were honking horns, shouts and squealing tires from behind him, and he knew he'd been found out. He began to limp/run, holding onto the hope that he could get away from his pursuers. About six steps later, he knew that there was no way he'd be able to do it.

There was no escape, since climbing the chain-link fence was way out of his ability at that point, plus the fact that he had no desire to do that to himself. So he just continued forward, soldiering on. Really, what else could he do, unless-

Frankie froze when he saw the dumpster nearby.

He had an idea.


Hannibal had to admit that he was worried. Especially when they were taken into a large empty back room of the warehouse, and he spotted the ropes hanging on the far wall. "Colonel! Blood!" Murdock nodded with his chin, even though neither of them had been tied like they'd expected to be. Then again, they did have at least 15 guns trained on them by men who'd wanted to kill them for years.

"So where's our friend?" Hannibal tried to keep his voice even, betraying nothing of the anger he felt as he congratulated himself on bringing Murdock instead of BA.

"Your friend?" A man stepped out, and Hannibal immediately realized that he was the leader. Of course he was. A mob boss from Las Vegas with a voice like melted honey, they'd put him away for life, so he could have only been helped out. "He told us that he didn't know you."

"It's true." Murdock said. "He doesn't know us, but we know him." The pilot leaned forward to confide. "We're his guardian devils. Cept for BA. He's the angel."

"Then you've done a poor job." Antonio Ricci smirked, stepping purposefully over a small pool of blood.

"Well, no one's perfect." Hannibal admitted, boiling inside and easily deciding that this man deserved no second chances. He swiftly broke out of that train of thought however, knowing that for his plan to work, he and Murdock needed to really get to work. He moved forward to Ricci, leaving his disarming smile on his face. "Say, don't I know you from somewhere?" He didn't give the man a chance to answer as he turned to Murdock. "Doesn't he look familiar?"

Murdock did his part masterfully as usual. "Say, he does look familiar! I think he's-" Murdock suddenly gasped. "I know him colonel! Get away from 'im! Quick! He's Hades! He's Hades!"

"Hades!" Hannibal took another step, ignoring the man's gun, which was pointing straight at his head. "Naw, I think you got the wrong guy, Murdock. This isn't Hades. This is- ah. Antonio Ricci, I remember you."

"I remember you as well." The man assured. "And that is why I will shoot you if you take another step."

"He's Hades! No, he's Pluto in another form, and I ain't talkin' about Mickey's dog!" Murdock recoiled, running across the room with a scream. "He's gonna kill us all, I jus' know it!"

"Murdock." Hannibal turned with exasperation. "I just said his name, he's-" Murdock ran in circles, the guns following him as the group of men around began to stifle chuckles. Hannibal sighed and turned to Ricci. "He sometimes gets this way."

"I remember, of course. Your crazy friend?" Ricci seemed as amused as the rest of the room. "Speaking of your friends, where are the other two?"

"They gone, baby! They gone up an' away an' there's nothin' in the whole wide world that can stop BA when he spreads his wings an' flies!" The pilot stopped running, panting out of breath. "But he hates flyin' and the whole world thinks it's a shame, cuz he's got the prettiest wings of all the angels."

"You. Tell me." Antonio pushed his gun into Hannibal's stomach, and the colonel grinned.

"Well, they're just a little late, that's all."

"I know that you dealt with my men who were watching the girl." Ricci scowled. "But they were merely pawns, and they all wanted their revenge on you. The men here are equally loyal. You will tell me where your friends are. You are not getting out of here alive either way."

"You'd be a bad salesman, Ricci." Hannibal advised. "Your pitch is terrible. If I'm gonna die anyway, I've got nothing to lose, do I?"

"Only your devil horns." Murdock pitched in from his place at the other end of the room.

"And what a loss that would be." Ricci deadpanned while Hannibal shot a glance straight up to his hairline.

"They aren't showing, are they?"

Murdock was in position, and Frankie was out of the way. So far, everything was going according to plan. Then everything changed with Ricci's next words.

"You have your friend's life to lose." Hannibal's blood ran cold as Ricci continued. "Bring in the prisoner."

An illegal arms dealer that they'd gotten at least three years prior rushed into a side hall, and came back out almost immediately. "He's escaped!"

"What?!" Ricci stepped forward, allowing Hannibal to plaster himself against the wall behind the man, his breathing evening out as his body prepared for what was about to happen. "What about my uncle?!"

"He's been killed. Blow to the head." The man replied, and Ricci shouted, his face turning an angry red,

"We have to find him! He cannot escape and warn the rest of the A-Team!"

Hannibal congratulated Frankie in his mind, wanting to laugh at Ricci, but knowing better than to draw any attention to himself at the moment.

There was a sudden honking outside, and Murdock screamed bloody murder. "AWW, THEY'RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY!" He ran from the room, laughing maniacally, and everyone gave chase.

Hannibal followed the angry crowd of murderers into the first room, smiling as his plan came together. A few shots were fired, but no one was able to stop the pilot from gripping the chain that opened the huge door for trucks, and a car drove in just then, machine-gun fire spraying from it almost before Murdock dropped to the ground.

Hannibal, for his part, grabbed Ricci before he could get away and slammed him down on the ground with himself, twisting the man's gun into his own gloved hand before holding it against Ricci's back. "Don't move, or you can become then next casualty."

"We'll all be casualties, either way." Ricci responded breathily. "This place is set to blow at 8:00, and that's in ten minutes."


Well, I can say with a surety that this is awful, but I'm pushing to finish it. :/ Sorry for not giving this more time, but as it is DUN DUN DUN! Cliffhanger!

And where is Frankie now?

The next chapter should be the last, and then we'll all know. :) So lemme know what you think, and if you see any blatant mistakes, shoot me a message while you still can, since I'm still going to be leaving for that year and a half trip on May 2nd. … :( Everything will be on hiatus after that time, so that's why I'm rushing a little.

Anyway, I hope that you're ready, cuz this story is almost over, as sad as this is, and I hope that you've learned to maybe appreciate Frankie a little more, or at least appreciate that the guys appreciate him, if that makes any sense at all.

Thanks for all of the support. :)

C y'all,

-Al