Face looked up from the food he'd been helping Murdock get ready for dinner when he saw Hannibal coming to the kitchen and he asked the Colonel, "Well, how's she doing?"
"Pills finally fully kicked in, she's dead to the world," Hannibal answered.
"Small favors indeed," Face said.
Murdock picked up the cutting board full of chopped up potatoes and dumped them into a large pan of boiling water and commented, "That's not gonna be the problem, last time we had Maggie put her on those pills, after a few days they made her an insomniac. She didn't sleep for at least three days."
Hannibal looked to Face and asked him, "Get a hold of Amy?"
"Yeah, she said she'll be over later tonight to help," Face told him.
"What about B.A.?" Hannibal asked.
"He says it'll take a few days to get the car fixed," Face answered as he returned his attention to cutting the bottoms of the asparagus.
"And?" Hannibal added.
"Belt broke," Face said as he brought the knife down in one move and chopped off all the bottom parts, "That's why the wheel locked up and he couldn't get them out of the way, take a few days to get that fixed too he said."
"They were both lucky they weren't killed in that crash," Hannibal noted.
"That's what I've been trying to tell the Big Guy but he just won't listen," Murdock turned to Hannibal, "According to all available statistics you're far more likely to be killed in a car accident than in a plane crash, in fact…"
"Not now, Murdock," Hannibal said, "We're not in the mood and quite frankly I don't think this is the most appropriate time."
"Oh, right, sorry Colonel," Murdock said as he turned his attention back to the potatoes.
Face asked Hannibal, "You think she'll even be awake by the time dinner's ready?"
"If not," Hannibal replied, "We'll save part of it for her."
"You sure she's alright, Colonel?" Murdock asked.
"She's not feeling any pain, I can tell you that much," Hannibal said. All the same when B.A. had gotten her settled on her bed, Hannibal had seen to placing a couple pillows under her to ease the pressure from the mattress against her battered flesh.
Amy had come over that night to assist in any way she could since Hannibal had figured they could very possibly need a woman's help in dealing with Jean. He knew that her legs had been bruised from top to bottom, her back was a nice shade of broken blood vessel as well, and she'd also sustained some smaller bruises on her arms from the impact of the crash. Anything else was anybody's guess, but he knew when the drugs eventually wore off and they would wear off and there was going to come a time when Jean wouldn't have access to anymore since they didn't want to risk her becoming hooked, that it was going to be pure hell for her to move around on her own.
Jean had woken up for dinner and it was obvious she was still doped up because reality hadn't yet come crashing down on her. After dinner she said she wanted to take a bath, and she was actually able to get around fairly well on her own, but all the same Hannibal insisted Amy help her into the bathroom and stick around to make sure she didn't slip and split her head open or drown in the tub.
A short while later Amy came down the stairs and told Hannibal, "Jean's done with her bath."
"And?" Hannibal asked, wondering why she felt a need to tell him this.
"She won't let me help her out of the tub, she asked for you," Amy said.
"Me?" Hannibal's eyes raised slightly in surprise, "Oh boy." He tried to figure out just what that was supposed to mean.
He went up the stairs to the bathroom and announced he was coming in before he even touched the doorknob. Slowly he pulled the door open and when he peered in, he was a bit relieved but also surprised to see Jean was sitting on the edge of the tub already wrapped up in a large towel. Ah, now he realized, now reality was setting in, he could tell by the look on her face even though she had it focused on the tiled floor instead of up at him.
"You rang?" he asked.
Jean raised her head up slowly and said, trying to sound nonchalant, "Hey, Hannibal."
"Amy says you sent her away, is that true?" he inquired.
"Uh…" she cocked her head to one side as if she was considering the question and answer, then she looked to him and explained, "It's no offense to Amy, but I'm worried if I fall down that she won't be able to help me up."
"Ah, okay," he said as he went over to the tub to help her to her feet. He placed his hands right under Jean's shoulders and helped pull her up and then got behind her to walk her to her room.
"How're you feeling, kid?" he asked.
She didn't answer him, which could've been taken either way.
"That good, eh?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
They reached her room and he walked her over to the bed and made sure she didn't just collapse against it.
"What the hell did you do to my back?" Jean asked him out of nowhere.
Her question took Hannibal by surprise but only slightly. Hardly missing a beat he told her, "Just a little rough hewn chiropractic work."
"Oh yeah?" she groaned, "That something you learn in the Army?"
"Not officially," he said, "But it was something I picked up while serving overseas."
"Hmm, no kidding," she tiredly remarked.
"Had a few comrades who had their spines knocked so far out of whack I had to do an emergency job of popping them back in just so we could move them enough to get to a field hospital," he explained, "You learn the hard way and the fast way in a war."
"I see," Jean tiredly said as she closed her eyes and her head tilted off to the side.
Hannibal felt weird for asking but he did ask Jean, "You, eh, you gonna be able to get yourself dressed?"
She opened her eyes again and answered, "I can do that by myself just fine, thank you."
But it was obvious to Hannibal that she'd be out like a light long before that happened, and he was right. In a couple minutes she'd fallen back against the pillows and was out like a light.
Even though it was still July, and the house was warm despite the air conditioner running, Hannibal decided it would be better to try leaving the poor girl with some dignity so he pulled the covers up over her and loosely tucked her in.
The next morning Hannibal stood at the doorway and poked his head in and saw that Jean had managed to wrangle herself into a tank top and a pair of shorts. She sat on her knees on the bed and her whole body from the knees up slowly bobbed up and down and from side to side as she continuously ran her hands through her hair like she didn't know what to do with it.
"Where's Murdock?" he asked.
"I told him to get out so I could get dressed," Jean answered, not even looking at him, "I didn't want him to see me like this."
"How're you feeling?" he asked.
She let out a sharp groan and said, "It's a no win situation, if I lay on my back it kills my back, if I lay on my front it's murder on my legs."
"Take anymore pills?" he asked.
Jean shook her head, "Can't, I can't…"
Hannibal went over to the bed and replied, "You can, and if you have to you will. Yesterday you walked away from becoming a compacted crispy critter, don't press your luck. Now come on, you'll take a pill now and you'll be good for what, six hours?"
"More likely four with my luck," she said.
Hannibal just shrugged as he found the pill bottle and said, "Well, Maggie says it's still more effective than an IV drip."
"Oh wow that's comforting," she dryly remarked, "Hannibal…that car that hit us…"
"What about it?" Hannibal asked.
"That couldn't have been planned, could it?" she asked, "Nobody knew where we were going, it couldn't have been on purpose, could it?"
"Do you think it was?" Hannibal asked.
"I'd hate to think that it was intentional," Jean said, "How could the driver have possibly known?"
"He didn't," Hannibal said, "I had B.A. give me a description of the car from what he could remember, and it matched against the description of a car involved in a crash yesterday that actually made it into the papers. The driver was killed on impact. Now it's going to take a while for a toxicology report to find anything but the police on the scene said there was half a bottle of whiskey on the passenger side floor and he reeked of it."
Jean tiredly nodded her head and said, "Irony of ironies."
"How's that?" he asked her.
Jean sank back down against the mattress and said, "You know how the law says 18 year olds can't drink, people claim it's because they're too young to be responsible with alcohol? Funny, when a 30 year old or a 50 year old gets plastered and gets behind the wheel of a car, nobody wants to know why he's not responsible just because he grew up to be 21. They just acknowledge that he's not responsible and leave it at that, but still think that they can get by with that excuse on 18 year olds who are by law also adults, and are adult enough to get drafted, get shipped halfway around the world and blown to bits over a war they don't have any idea what's going on or over whose real estate it is."
Even before Jean swallowed the pill, Hannibal could see she was breathing hard and her eyes weren't registering on much, the only thing that was registering was pain, pain and fatigue. He grabbed her to get her attention and he told her, "We've been through this dance enough times before, you know it'll get easier."
Jean just barely nodded and weakly replied, "After it gets worse."
The day finally came that the A-Team was going to finally meet with Stevi Faith and make the final decision if they were taking the case or not, though everybody knew it was more than likely the answer would be 'yes'.
That was tomorrow, tonight however, Murdock was going around Jean's bedroom like a decapitated chicken, checking off everything that they had to make sure was taken care of before they went off and left her by herself. In the middle of picking up random things from around the room and carrying them over to another spot to pick up something else, he dropped them all and got on the bed by her and said, "You know I'm gonna miss ya every day, don't you?"
Jean just nodded and said, "Of course I do."
"Because I am," he told her as he got off the bed and resumed being a walking pack rat, "I'm gonna miss you so much, I miss you already."
"Murdock you guys are only going to be gone a few days," Jean said.
"I know, but I feel so guilty having to go off and leave you here in your condition."
"My what?" Jean asked.
Murdock threw himself on the bed again and said, "Jean promise me that you'll use your ring at the first sign of trouble."
"Of course I will, you know that," she said.
"Aw Jean," Murdock grabbed her hand and pressed it against his cheek, "You just don't know how bad I feel about this."
Jean scooted forward slightly and smoothed the hair back on the top of his head and she told him, "Believe me I do. But come on, Murdock, Hannibal's leaving Amy and Maggie's contacts here incase I need either of them, and you guys are going to be well in range to pick up the Mayday alarm if need be. Don't worry, nothing's gonna happen to me."
"Ooh I hope so," he replied, "Now let's see, let me think…ah…you still taking your pills?"
"You hear me screaming?" she asked.
"Okay…they giving you any trouble sleeping?" he asked.
"Not yet," she answered.
Murdock nodded frantically and said, "Good, good, so far that's good."
For all he'd been rambling on in the night and she'd just sat back against the pillows and taken it, he could tell that there was something on her mind too but she wouldn't dare mention it lest she come off as too needy or too clingy. The last couple days it had been a coin toss whether she wanted him to stay with her or not. But this was their last night together for a while, so he knew he was going to be staying with her, and even though she wouldn't say anything either way, he knew it meant as much to her as it did to him.
There hadn't been anything in the weather forecast for the night but a storm came out of nowhere and it poured down rain all night. Everyone in the house was oblivious to the sounds of rain beating against the house and the pavement, and the thunder and the bright lightning. Everybody was out like a light since they knew they'd have to be sharp and fast on their feet tomorrow. Murdock personally didn't have a care in the world that night, not even in his subconscious, as he slept comfortably with Jean right beside him and his arms wrapped tightly around her so he could feel her presence.
The next morning, Jean was settled on the couch downstairs in the living room so she'd be within easy access of the telephone, the kitchen, and the downstairs bathroom; and anything upstairs that she might need was brought down and kept within her reach in the living room. Ever since the aftermath of the crash and Hannibal had cracked her back into place, she was able to walk, but not well, and it was still a gradual process she was getting back to. Face brought down several changes of clothes to last for a few days but by the time he got down there everything had been jumbled together into one mess as he all but dropped everything over the back of one of the chairs. Hannibal decided to give him a hand sorting through everything so they could get out of there soon.
"Hey, what's this?" Face asked as he pulled something out of the pile. It was a sleeveless, almost floor length, white/blue/teal striped nightgown that felt like it was made from heavy T-shirt material, and he couldn't resist asking Hannibal, "What's this, Jean's idea of lingerie?"
Hannibal explained, "Murdock got it for her, figured it'd be easier for her to get in and out of while she's trying to rest."
"Oh…yeah I can see how he might think that," Face said as he put it back over the chair, "The real question, will she actually wear it?"
"Not while we're around I reckon," Hannibal answered simply.
They heard a series of disgruntled sounds from above and went to see what was going on. Murdock had just barely made it down the stairs and had his arms loaded down with a single file stack of about 20 books that he couldn't even see over the top as he made his way into the living room before dropping them all on the coffee table.
"Okay, Saint," he said, "Here're the books you asked for."
"Thank you," Jean said, "What about my legal pads?"
"Oh…" Murdock looked through the wreckage, "I had them here somewhere when I brought everything down."
"What's all that for?" Face couldn't help asking.
"Well," Jean replied, "Just because I'm going to be stuck on this couch doesn't mean I can't keep my mind occupied. Have something to do if there's nothing good on TV."
"Oh I almost forgot," Face said, "What about your pills?"
"How many are left in that bottle that Maggie gave you?" she asked.
"About 20, I had her refill it."
Jean crinkled her nose and said, "No I don't want them, throw them away." Face had just moved to head to the kitchen when she said, "No wait, don't do that. It's a lot of drugs to waste, keep them…no wait!" she said again, "I don't want them, I don't need to start that habit again, throw them out." And he moved to head into the kitchen again when she changed her mind again and said, "No wait!" Face turned sharply on one heel with his eyes slanted and his teeth gritted together over tightly pursed lips. Jean told him, "Throw out half of them and keep the rest in the kitchen, so at least I'll have to get up to get another fix."
Face grunted and went to the kitchen.
"Okay, Jean," Hannibal said, "We got the phone moved in here, I left Amy and Maggie's numbers by the phone if you need them, and we'll call you when we get settled in our safe house."
"What if Decker tries tapping the line?" Jean asked.
"I'd be disappointed in him if he didn't," Hannibal replied, "But it won't matter, we won't stay on long enough for him to get a trace on us. Okay, now, do you have everything down here that you need?"
"I think so," she said.
Murdock cleared his throat and reached in his pocket and took out her decoder ring and handed it to her.
"Get me a frying pan from the kitchen too just incase Maggie decides to send an associate over," she added.
B.A. came out of the kitchen and said, "Alright, Hannibal, I got the alarm set up, any sucker tries coming through that back door gonna be sorry."
"Good work, B.A.," Hannibal said, "Alright, is the van loaded up?"
"Yes," everybody answered.
"Then I guess we can move out," he said.
Everyone had their turn at saying goodbye, first Face, then Hannibal, Murdock kissed her goodbye and managed a quick hug so he didn't hurt her, then B.A. came over to her and told her, "You just take it easy, mama, we'll be back 'fore long."
"Thanks, B.A.," she said.
They headed to the door, but at the last minute Murdock came running back to the living room for one more goodbye hug and kiss before joining the others outside.
"Well, we're off," Hannibal said as they got in the van and closed the doors.
"I figured that was a safe bet already," Face said.
As it turned out, they got out when the getting was good. Decker had recently returned from Florida and was none too thrilled about once again being given the slip by the A-Team, then he returned to find his office ransacked, all his files had been tossed all over the room, the papers scattered everywhere. It took him two days to get everything back the way it was and by the time he'd finished he realized that to the best of his recollection, nothing was missing, so why he wanted to know had the A-Team busted in there just to trash the place?
He didn't think he'd have long to wonder though. Late that morning, an anonymous tip came in from someone who said they saw a group of men who fit the descriptions of the A-Team and gave Decker the address. After he'd hung up he realized why the address sounded familiar, it was in the direct vicinity of Jean's house. Well, at least he wouldn't have far to go to catch them this time. He got Crane and the two of them sped out to the house.
When they arrived they didn't see anyone, they also didn't see the A-Team's van anywhere, but of course Decker knew that didn't mean anything. They got out of the car and headed up to the front door, both with their guns drawn and ready. Before they even made it to the door though, they heard a loud crashing sound coming from inside the house, accompanied by the sound of somebody screaming in agony. Decker found the door wasn't locked and he threw it open and they charged in to see what was going on.
What they found was Jean on the dining room floor trying to roll over onto her back so she could get her feet on the ground and stand up. Decker and Crane pocketed their guns and went over to her.
"Miss Rhodes?"
Jean craned her neck back and saw them standing over her, "Oh it's you, Roddy, long time no see, eh?"
She managed to get on her back but then she fell flat, exposing her legs that were tattooed black and blue from her thighs clear down to her feet; it was something that Decker had never seen before in his life.
"What the hell happened to you?" he asked her.
"Believe me, Decker, you wouldn't believe it even if I told you," Jean said.
She'd been smashed up very well in the crash, the bruises were nowhere near even beginning to fade and still looked fresh.
He asked her, "Do you need a doctor?"
"I've already been to one, they didn't do me any good," she said as she tried to get up, and failed, "If you could just get me over to the couch so I can decompose properly…"
So, Crane and Decker each got on a side of her and pulled her up and helped her into the living room, once they were to the couch, Crane let go of her left side and Decker helped her down onto the couch so she didn't land hard or fall off.
She let out a heavy breath and half slurred, "Thanks…" and let her head fall back against the arm, then she picked it up and said, "Oh damn, I forgot my pills in the kitchen."
"I'll get them," Crane offered.
Winded and tired, she huffed out, "Oh thank you," and collapsed against the couch.
Once he was out of the room, Jean opened her eyes and said to Decker, "And what, may I ask, brings you out here? I know you didn't decide to make this trip for the hell of it or to be neighborly."
"We got a call that the A-Team was here," Decker told her.
"Well you're right, they were," Jean said and shook her head, "But no more…they came here a little while ago, took Murdock, and left. And it's no good asking me where they've gone because they didn't tell me. Although if I had to guess, since they took Murdock it must mean that they're going to fly, and I'd wager he's going to be flying something big and fancy, which means they're leaving the country and flying overseas and landing in some other country and most likely he'll be taking them down somewhere off radar, away from the airport, out in the middle of nowhere where they don't have to get their passports checked."
"You really expect us to believe that the A-Team would take off and leave you here like this?" Decker asked her.
Jean shrugged and said, "Such is life for them, duty calls and all that."
"I find that hard to swallow," Decker told her.
"Oh come on, Roddy," Jean yawned, "When have I ever lied to you?"
Decker glared at her as if to say 'Are you kidding me?'
"Come on, Decker, if he'd had a choice, do you think Murdock would leave me here like this?" she asked as she pointed to her legs.
Well, it was hard to argue that, but Decker still wasn't convinced that they weren't around. He found he couldn't stop staring at the bruises on her legs and for the life of him he couldn't figure out what could have caused it. Once again he asked her, "What the hell happened to you?"
Jean shook her head, "I told you before, you wouldn't believe it."
She looked at him as if she might be able to read his mind. The logical answer seemed to be if the A-Team wasn't here, perhaps they were out tracking down whoever did this. If that's what Decker thought, let him, gave him another false trail to follow.
Crane came back with the bottle of pills and a glass of water. Jean took two pills and engaged in a little more elusive double talk with Decker just to see how infuriated she could make him. Decker noticed that after a few minutes Jean's head lolled to the side and she closed her eyes. Since she seemed to be asleep, he and Crane decided to have a look around the house and make sure that the A-Team was hiding somewhere.
Decker had enough experience in this house to anticipate a booby trap behind every door, around every corner, he watched his step every inch of the way. It all turned out to be for nothing, there wasn't a single trap to be found, until they reached the back door. This one clearly had been set up to trap someone coming in from the outside because he could actually see the booby trap. Once the door opened, it jerked a wire that pulled the trigger on a shotgun over the door aimed right where someone might be standing; in theory it would be easy enough to disconnect the wire but he knew that the A-Team specialized in what you didn't look for, so he decided to leave it alone. It didn't stop him from heading out the front door and walking around to the back yard, check the garage, check the back yard, check the alley out behind the property; there was no sign of anybody anywhere, especially not the A-Team.
"You think she's telling the truth?" Crane asked Decker as they met up by the front door again.
"I think there's a better chance of lightning hitting in the same place 10 times," Decker said, "But it's obvious they're not here."
They went back in to the living room, and the only moving Jean had done in that time was to roll over onto her side, with her back facing them. In the process her shirt had gotten hiked up and it gave Decker a good view of the bruises on her back. Those made what happened to her legs look like beauty markings. Decker felt his stomach tighten in a knot and something rose to his throat that he had to swallow. He reached and grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it back down and covered the mess of purple and black marks, and the two men left the house and headed back to the Federal Building.
The A-Team had made an agreement with Stevi's manager, David Salto, to meet them in a hotel that she was already checked into under an assumed name; but they agreed to meet in a separate room that Hannibal had had Face reserve for them under another assumed name. Seemed like a perfect way to conduct a meeting of the minds under publicly false pretenses, what could be safer?
Meeting Stevi Faith was not like anything else you could imagine. Especially given everything that the Team had heard in the last few days, they never would've expected what they saw. If you'd seen one sleeve for any of her albums then you had a fair idea what she looked like, in all her pictures her appearance seldom changed. And that was exactly how she entered the hotel room; blonde and tan stringy curly hair, about four different shades of color makeup on her face, and she was dressed in zebra print pants, neon sneakers, and a purple and white tie-dye tank top.
"Well, Miss Faith," Hannibal said, "It's nice to meet you finally."
She looked around the room first before seeing them and said as she looked off to the bathroom as if searching for a booby trap or an assassin, "Yeah, same, for real man."
Hannibal, Face and Murdock all exchanged similar 'I don't get it' looks, Hannibal turned to her and said, "Your manager's already filled us in on part of the details, but perhaps you'd like to give us your side of the story?"
"Oh sure," she said as she turned around and really saw them for the first time, "Well the problem is Woody Stone, he used to be my manager."
"I thought you said your ex-boyfriend was the one harassing you?" Face asked.
Stevi nodded and half shrugged and said, "Now you're getting it, I guess you'd call it a conflict of interests."
"Ah," Murdock spoke up, "Makes perfect sense."
"No it don't," B.A. said.
"You know, B.A.," Face tried to interject, "Mixing a little business with pleasure…and it backfired, right?"
"Woody was the one who discovered me and gave me my big break." Stevi walked over to a potted plant Murdock had brought to the room and placed on a stand by the wall and she traced through the undersides of the leaves with her finger as she explained, "I thought he was really gonna take me places, ya know? In the beginning we just clicked, it was…like electric. Then, once my first album went platinum and my tour ended, he and I started to have…creative differences about what the next move was."
"Nothing new there," Face said as he sat down.
"Oh yeah," Stevi said as she quit playing with the plant and turned around to them again, "He wanted to repackage me before he marketed me again, a complete 180 from my breakout premiere. I told him it wasn't me, so I wasn't going to do it, he became really possessive. I didn't get it, there was just a major karma shift between us, and I knew it wouldn't work out, so I hired an attorney to break my contract with him, and I broke out and started new," she nodded towards her new manager, "That's how I met Dave, our energies don't sync as well as Woody's and mine did in the beginning, but it's been more consistent."
"Three albums and four world tours later, I should certainly hope so," he replied jokingly.
"And everything's been going swell," Stevi added, "Until Woody came back. First it was random, out in public, then he started showing up at my house, then he started tailing me to the recording studio, I can't breathe with him around."
"And you tried calling the police and they brushed it off?" Face suggested.
"Totally," Stevi said, "Their energy is dead, man."
"And it doesn't help that some people don't like the foreign aids you support with the proceeds from your concerts," Face added.
"Close-minded, man, you know?" Stevi asked.
"Oh believe me, we do," Hannibal said, "Unfortunately international relations aren't at their best at this present time and some people don't appreciate the fine art of charity. But what is it you think this Woody is capable of doing?"
"He's followed me across seven states and over two border lines in the last six months," Stevi said, "He keeps insisting that he's going to get me back no matter what, I'm not sure if there's anything he'd stop at if he was stubborn enough."
"You suspected he might've been able to infiltrate some of your staff?" Hannibal asked.
"Notes started coming in under my hotel room doors wherever I stopped," Stevi explained, "My assistant always said she never saw anything but it was almost always when she was the only one with me."
"You still have any?" Face asked.
"No way, man," Stevi shook her head, "It's bad karma to keep stuff like that, energy's in everything, and inanimate objects contain bad energy from the people who send them."
"Hard to argue with that, Faceman," Murdock said.
"Shut up, Murdock," B.A. told him.
"Do you think he may have followed you here?" Hannibal asked.
"That's why it took us so long to get here," Dave told him, "We went over every back road, every unpaved road, we even drove in places where there were no roads. He couldn't possibly…"
"I don't know," Stevi said, "He's got a persistent aura and it tends to linger even once he's gone, so I'm not sure."
"The car you arrived in," Hannibal said, "It's downstairs, it's the one you've come halfway across the country in?"
"Yeah."
"Okay," Hannibal told them, "Here's what's going to happen, when we leave this hotel, Stevi's going to get in a car we brought with us, we're going to drive out to an abandoned building and switch with an identical car, it is going to make a trip in public view and Stevi is going to be taken to a safe house we've secured in a low key neighborhood. In the meantime, B.A.'s going to check out your car and make sure that it wasn't bugged with a tracking device."
"You really think that Woody would be capable of something like that?" Dave asked.
"You sought us out in the first place," Hannibal pointed out, "I take that as meaning you also think there's some merit to all of this."
"Still…bugging the car?"
"That could be the least of it," Face said, "Like Stevi said, when a person's determined enough, there's no telling what they'll resort to."
"I'll say," Murdock added, "I could tell you things that would curl your nails..."
The next thing out of his mouth was a choked sound as B.A.'s massive hand wrapped around the back of his neck and he strongly suggested to Murdock, "Don't."
"So I take it that you're going to take the case?" Dave asked.
"I don't see why not," Hannibal said, "If this Woody Stone is in the area and does try anything, he's going to be in for a rude surprise."
"Totally awesome, man," Stevi said.
"Hannibal, you shouldn't have called," Jean said when the phone rang later that afternoon, "Decker was out here earlier today, somebody reported seeing you guys here, he might have tapped the line."
"No matter," Hannibal said, "I had B.A. fix the phone before we left, we have a 2-minute warning."
"Like in football?" she asked.
"Something like that…so, what did you tell Decker?" Hannibal asked.
"I told him that you guys were likely heading out of the country since you needed Murdock to fly you," she said.
"Hmm," Hannibal pondered, "Since you told him that he probably figures we're still somewhere in the area."
"In other words I screwed up again," Jean said as she sank lower against the couch.
"No," Hannibal said, "You did fine, in any case I seriously doubt he'll be able to figure out where we are."
"But who could've tipped him off?" Jean asked.
"Could be anybody, we're a bit hard to miss," he replied.
"So how's it going?" Jean asked.
"Well I think this time we'll be able to manage the drive out with any incidents," Hannibal said, "As it stands we're still at the hotel. Fire broke out a few blocks away and the streets are a mess, nobody's going anywhere until further notice."
"Which means if this nut bar boyfriend's already there," Jean said, "He can't get out either, so maybe you'll find him."
"I don't think he's here," Hannibal told her, "I think he's out there somewhere."
"Watching?" Jean asked.
"Perhaps. How're you holding up, kid?"
"I'm going out of my mind with boredom, every inch of my body from the neck down is killing me and I have a weird little dog here staring at me," she answered.
"Murdock forgot to bring Billy."
"He didn't forget," Jean told him, "He left him behind to be a guard dog, some guard dog, Decker comes in here and this dumb dog just rolls over to get his belly scratched. I could've bitten Decker myself and gotten a better outcome."
Hannibal chuckled, "Just hang in there, kid, we'll be in touch."
"Okay, bye," Jean said and put the receiver back onto the switch hook. She crossed her feet over one another and tried to think what to do now. After Decker had left, Jean had picked up one of her legal pads and tried jotting down a few potential ideas for a script to write, but all she wound up doing was drawing little cartoons of Decker getting blown up by dynamite or having his gun explode in his face, or one that she particularly liked was him and Crane and their MP car mangled like at the end of those 'Smokey and the Bandit' movies.
Okay, so maybe Decker wouldn't figure out where the A-Team had gone, but why take the chance? Jean smiled to herself as the decision came to her; it looked like she was going to have to cause some trouble. She picked up the receiver again and dialed a number and waited for an answer.
"Hi V.C.?" she said, "It's Jean, hey, how quick did you say your brothers could strip down a car? They have any experience with sedans?" The mischievous grin on her face spread out and grew as she asked her, "How'd you guys like to have a little fun?"