Their new client was one Miss Maria Tepe, 28 years old and as Hannibal said, 8 ½ months pregnant, and she looked every inch of it. She was a short woman, that was to say she was several inches shorter than Jean and looked like a midget compared to the men. Like Jean though she appeared to be very low maintenance: she had short curly blonde hair not quite shoulder length that was pulled back with a band and she wore maternity sized overall shorts and a T-shirt and leather sandals. It could be guessed by looking at her that even before she reached this point, that she hadn't ever had a figure or a face that would stop traffic; but hers was a simpler, more down-to-earth beauty, though a large part of it was because of her bright personality. Why anyone, least of all the man she had married and the father of her soon-to-be-child, would want to give her any trouble, was beyond all four of the men.
After they'd managed to shake the parade of MPs they drove out to her house and she showed them inside, and around the house. Halfway through the tour she seemed to be getting winded so Murdock and Face got on either side of her and walked her over to where she could sit down and put her feet up. She laughed and told them, "I've got more people fussing over me now than have ever in my whole life."
Murdock did a double take and commented, "A gorgeous thing like you? How's that even possible?"
"Oh…very easily," she replied as she wrapped her arms over her stomach, "Which, I suppose, is how I got into this mess. You know it's a working theory that women who marry the kind of men like I married, do it out of desperation because they're raised to think so little of themselves, so they think it's the only chance they're going to get. That, or, another working theory is they do it out of compensation for having a father who's not involved in their lives." She craned her neck back to look up at Murdock and added, "I had one that liked using me as a punching bag up till I was 13, does that count, or would you call that actual 'involvement'?"
Murdock looked at Face with an expression that clearly said he had no idea how to answer that one.
"So…how did you meet your husband?" Face asked.
"Ex-husband," she emphasized, "Oh I imagine it was back in high school…we got married after he got out of the Army, first couple years weren't so bad, but the two after that were hell, and this year…I get a divorce, I leave him, I get a restraining order, and you can see how much good it's done me. You know some cops tell women in my position they just need to kill their husbands when they come again, so there's only one story to tell in court…" she patted her stomach and looked like she was feeling sick, "It'd be just my luck I'd get the judge and the jury that would say 'she had options, she just didn't use them'. People love to throw that excuse around, options, what damn options? That's what I want to know. When you're married to a guy like this, or even divorced from him, your options are kill or be killed…or," she gestured to them, "Hire you guys, not a whole lot in between."
Face and Murdock heard Hannibal and B.A. out in the front of the house and saw the Colonel and the Sergeant heading towards the kitchen, talking to themselves about something.
"Okay," Hannibal told Maria, "We've been over this place so we know its weaknesses and strong points…now you said you think your ex-husband is going to be showing up tonight or in the morning?"
"That's what he said on the phone," she answered, "He said he was going to come up here and kill me."
"Man's certainly full of himself," Hannibal said lightly, "And I'm sure you reported it to the police, who said…?"
Maria rolled her eyes and explained, "They said they couldn't do anything about it until he actually hurt somebody. I told them he isn't going to stop at hurt, if he says he's going to kill me then he's going to kill me. They said that wouldn't happen…the last time he came out here and we got into a fight, the police were called and it took 4 of their biggest, burliest men just to get him in the car, and even then they only put him in jail for a couple days, then he was out and about again."
Murdock went over to B.A. and asked Maria, "Were any of them as big as this angry mudsucker?", earning a sideways scowl and low, rumbling growl from the man.
"No," she shook her head.
"Well then you shouldn't have anything to worry about," Murdock said.
"That'll be a first."
"Good help is so hard to find around here, isn't it?" Jean asked.
She looked to Decker, who was in the process of getting his desk straightened out again and who was doing his best to try and ignore her, and she added, "This place has really become a revolving door for you, hasn't it, Roddy?"
He glared at her like most people look over their glasses at somebody, and he told her, "Miss Rhodes, my patience with you is already thin, I'd suggest you tread lightly."
"You should be kissing my shoes, Roddy, I got you this position back, though why you'd want it is beyond me, you already know you're never going to catch them, and if you do, you're never going to be able to keep them. You're sure as hell never going to get them back to Fort Bragg."
"We'll see about that," Decker replied.
"Well they're already off to a good start, they've already been back and now gone off on another assignment, you see what you missed while you were gone?" she asked.
Decker grumbled some vulgarity under his breath but otherwise ignored her.
Jean went over and slammed her hands down on his desk and hovered as she glared across the desk at him and she told him, "We've got a problem, we still have to find out who the plant in this building is. Hannibal was here in your absence and he was able to find out that when Fulbright went out on any A-Team sighting, one of the MPs stayed behind, but he wasn't able to find out which one." She could see the gears starting to turn in Decker's head and she added, "So what we need to do is get everybody out on call again and find out who doesn't leave."
"And how would you propose doing that?" he wanted to know.
Jean brought her hands up and smacked them against the MP jacket she wore, "You've seen how I get in this place, I get in, mingle among the other MPs, you and Crane come out and round everyone up, I disappear from sight, and see who else is lagging behind. Then we do a bait and switch with the cars, you and Crane double back here and we catch the titmouse red handed."
"That would mean getting the rest of the MPs involved," Decker told her.
Jean shook her head, "Wrong, I know just where we can get a car that matches your sedans, we get a couple other people in the same uniforms in the same car, nobody's going to be the wiser. I have friends in high places, Decker, believe me it's doable."
Decker eyed her suspiciously and commented, "You know, I just can't help wondering why you're so willing to get involved…what exactly is in this for you? I happen to know you're not an altruistic person."
"Everybody's got a price, Roddy, even me," Jean said, "I told you there's a debt to be paid, blood for blood, now that you're back you have an obligation that makes catching the A-Team secondary. The second you find out where Stockwell is, you let me know, otherwise," she lunged herself at him, her hands pinned to his desktop the only thing stopping her from knocking him down, "I'm gonna come, for you, I'm gonna get you." She pushed up on her hands and stood straight again and added, "If Stockwell's keeping tabs on this office, we have to find out."
Decker still didn't look convinced, "You still think the CIA is looking for the A-Team?"
"I have a new theory on that," she said plainly, "I think the CIA is looking for one member specifically. And I think that's why this guy stays here while the rest of you are running around on a wild goose chase, and he knows it is, otherwise why would he stay behind?"
"What are you talking about?" Decker asked as he stood up.
"There's a reason this guy is not going out with everyone else chasing around town to dead ends. He's not after the A-Team in whole, he's after something or someone specifically, and I think I know what it is. What else could a Spook be after besides someone else from the Agency?"
"The A-Team never served in the CIA," Decker said.
Jean lunged at him and practically head butted him in the jaw, "Wrong, Decker, you are dead wrong on that. Murdock did two jobs with the CIA. Now, I think Stockwell knows this, and I think it's Murdock he's after."
"What in the hell for?" Decker wanted to know.
She shrugged, "That's the only part I haven't been able to figure out yet. Obviously Murdock doesn't know him, but the damn spooks are supposed to know everything, so he'd also know about Murdock. Maybe the Agency wants him to do them another favor and Stockwell's acting as their spokesperson, I don't know. What I do know is when they shot him, it wasn't intentional because they were trying to shoot Hannibal, so it's very much possible that they want Murdock for some reason."
"You're crazy," he said.
Jean nodded, "Yeah you're probably right, but it doesn't mean I'm wrong either. All I need is a chance to prove it, and if we can get within 500 feet of Stockwell, I think I can."
"How?" Decker asked.
Jean waved a finger at him and clicked her tongue, "You don't expect me to give away my best trick, do you?" Her whole body jerked like she was stiffening up to stand at attention, but instead she picked up her helmet and said, "Look Roddy, it's late, I'm tired, I'm going home, I'll get back to you with the details, whenever you want to find out who the rat is around here, you just let me know." She went towards the door but stopped, put her helmet on a chair and started digging into her jacket.
"Now what're you doing?" Decker wanted to know.
"I told you I never take chances coming in and out of here, to make sure nobody recognizes me. Does 'The Invisible Man' mean anything to you?" Jean asked, and with that she pulled out a set of gloves, and a long piece of white gauze, which she then proceeded to wrap around her head from her bottom jaw up to over her nose, then she pulled out a set of black sunglasses from her pocket, put them on, then the helmet, and then the gloves.
Decker looked mildly surprised by this, but merely said to himself, "This confirms my theory."
"You can laugh," Jean told him through the gauze, "But nobody's ever going to be able to pick me out of an identity parade, and nobody's going to pick up my prints either. Like I said, I stay in the dark and shadows, don't talk much, don't get near anybody, it works until I get out of here."
She was almost to the door, when she stopped, turned around, pulled down some of the gauze around her mouth and added, "By the way…welcome back." And on that note, she opened the door, stepped out into the hallway, and pulled the door shut behind her and left.
By 3 o' clock that morning, Jean found herself on the living room floor in a near drunken stupor, by now the wet tracks under her eyes had almost become a second nature to her, she was almost to the point she didn't notice them anymore. She leaned her head back against the couch, but then pulled herself forward and reached up and pulled a sheet of paper off of her typing table. Page number 85, the story was there, but the direction of the whole mess had been lost in the process. After the first few pages she found it impossible to keep it confined to the limitations of a Hollywood script with all its cuts, fades, interiors, exteriors, close-ups, etc., and the whole story just poured out of her as if it had been a direct outlet from within her body. She never would've guessed she could get the whole story choked out in anything less than 100 pages but when you cut down to bare bone and just gave the straight facts, it was all pretty easy, none of this Hollywood back story, sub-story, side story, love story, plot twists, just straight to the bone like a slip of a straight razor.
There was no ending to it, how could there be? She hadn't found one herself yet, and she couldn't put in the minor detail about how she got two holes blown into her chest and lived to tell about it, so with that in mind, the whole grisly recollection just drifted off to a sudden halt. She'd have to find some way later to straighten it all out and find some way to give it an appropriate ending suitable for Hollywood's standards, but for now she considered herself finished, purged, as Murdock had put it. So when the hell this part about feeling better was supposed to kick in, she'd sure like to know because at that given moment, she felt worse than she had in years. And how appropriate, she thought, here she was feeling like somebody had cut her open and ripped her intestines out, and she was all alone, as usual.
Without even having to think back, Jean was well aware of the fact that the guys had seen her through plenty of horrible nights, but the truth of the matter was none of them had ever been around when she'd felt at her absolute worst. They hadn't been there after she'd gotten home from the hospital, the first time. Okay yes, Murdock had been there with her in the hospital room the night that…but that didn't really count because anymore, it was a vague memory, she had no actual recollection of what happened the night that Murdock described watching her like an up close and personal encounter with 'The Exorcist'. But after that…they hadn't been there during her recovery, they had no idea what that was like; they hadn't been there the first three months she lived out here, they had no idea what had gone on during that time. She'd been left alone not long after Christmas, they hadn't seen her those nights she woke up screaming because she remembered being locked in the freezer. The truth of the matter was that none of them really had any idea what went on in her life when they weren't around, and when it was times she decided they didn't need to know the details, they didn't, it was as simple as that. Except that nothing was ever simple.
Both before and after her own brush with death, when she'd been forced to face the death of the others, she'd started getting very philosophical on the subject. What was life? What was living? Was it merely breathing, the heart continuing to beat and to pump blood? No, it wasn't as simple as that, it was something much more. Life was passion, awe, shock, joy, anger, fury, hate, love, none of it was ever simple, and that's why it mattered so much.
Her mind went back, shortly after her uncle died, after they'd come back to L.A. after the funeral. She remembered a brief conversation she'd had with Face one day, she wondered if he remembered it? She knew she'd never forget.
"Let me ask you a question, Face, did you ever see 'The Walking Dead'?"
"Ah…uh…I don't think so…that's a movie, right?"
"An old Boris Karloff movie…he played a man framed for a crime he didn't commit."
"Ha, I know how he feels."
"No you don't, he was framed for a murder, and he was electrocuted just as his pardon came through. Modern science was able to restore him to life, except he wasn't alive anymore, he was reduced to a shell of the man he was when he was alive. He came back, he could talk, he could move, he could walk, he could still play the piano, but his soul was gone, he was like a zombie. His only purpose thereafter was to track down the three men who really committed the murder and kill them, only then could he die again, and permanently that time."
"I see."
"There are days I think I know how he feels, some days I think I know very much how he feels."
And now was another one of those days. For some time now Jean hadn't been able to shake an overwhelming feeling that her only purpose in life right now was to track down Stockwell and kill him. And she still intended to do that. A feeling of déjà vu came over her as she thought back to a dream she'd had, crawling along the cold, damp, muddy grounds of the Vietnam jungle coated in black shoe polish from the top of her hair to the bottom of her feet, naked except for a loin cloth and a rag tied around her chest, all to blow a hole into the General's chest with an M-16. She could feel that oh so familiar rain that haunted many soldiers' memories, pouring down on her and chilling her to the bone. The only question was what would happen after she got her hands on him? She couldn't foresee any kind of other future after that point, and she couldn't help wondering if it all meant something.
The next night, Jean had found herself in bed much sooner, but she wasn't sleeping easily. Through the open window she could hear a car driving up the road and then saw the bright lights from the car's headlights glaring in. Jean knew nobody ever came here, so she kicked back the covers and went to the window and pulled open one of the slats on the venetian blind. Down below she saw a car with a set of lights on the top, but the car was off now and it was too dark to see what it was. But she knew, it was no police car, it was Decker and Crane coming to pay her a visit. Jean looked down at how she had been dressed for bed, alone, and decided she wouldn't get changed just yet.
She headed down the stairs just as she heard the pounding on the door. First throwing on the lights but not bothering to look out, she undid the bolt on the door and threw it open, coming face to face with Decker and Crane, but instead of maintaining eye contact, both men were quick to note that she was dressed only in a low cut, loose fitting tank top and her underwear. Crane's eyes widened in shock and he turned to the side, Decker didn't say anything at first, a few seconds later settling on, "Very funny."
"Hey," Jean held the door open for them, "You come busting into my house at 2 o' clock in the morning, you're lucky I have anything on."
She followed behind them into the living room and, folding her arms to her chest, said to Decker, "So, what brings you two sewer rats out this way? I happen to know you don't make social calls."
Decker told her, though he didn't turn around to see her, "You said to keep you informed when we found out anything about General Stockwell, didn't you?"
That small comment took Jean by surprise. "He's back?"
"Expected to shortly," Decker explained, and finally turned to see her and told her, "I've got a good source that says Stockwell is flying back to the United States and expected to land in the same place he took off last month, within the hour."
"Well why didn't you say so?" she asked, "I'll go get dressed."
Instead of going upstairs, Decker saw her go over to the coat closet in the dining room. Morbidly curious, he followed her over to see what was in there that she…and he got his answer when he saw her take out an MP uniform complete with its helmet. He looked down at it, and then at her, and looked at her like she was nuts.
"What's the matter, Roddy, something you ate?" she asked.
"You can't be serious," he said.
Jean looked down at the uniform, and then down at herself and she looked back up at him and said, "Well I plan to put a bra on first," as if that explained everything. She noted the crazed look on Decker's face at that comment and it was all she could do not to fall over laughing.
"Maria, stay down!" Hannibal told the pregnant woman a couple seconds before another bullet ripped through a front window.
Maria pressed her head even lower against the floor as she heard a shot ricochet some feet over her head.
The night was almost over and none of them had been to sleep. Around 3 o' clock, there had been a heavy pounding on the door. It had been Maria's ex-husband, a big bear of a man who stood 6 feet tall and looked like he could choke the life out of a mountain lion. Hannibal had felt himself doing a double take upon initially seeing the man, the police didn't think a man like this could actually kill somebody? Of course, he still hadn't been any match for B.A., who stepped in and went a few rounds with the sucker, before ultimately tossing him out the front door and making him clear a few feet before actually landing and making contact with the sidewalk.
They knew that that wouldn't be the end of it but for the moment, they'd locked the front door and left it at that to see what he would do next. Apparently what he was going to do next was shoot the house up. The shots had started about 15 minutes ago, and Hannibal noted that it was obvious even though Maria had neighbors, nobody had reported any of it to the police, or if anybody had, they clearly weren't coming, the citizens of Los Angeles' tax dollars hard at work, doing what, nobody knew. Probably waiting so they could come at the end of it all and tag and bag Maria's body and maybe her baby's too, so much easier than actually getting out to serve and protect, that would mean actually doing something dangerous, like they were supposed to have been trained to do in the academy. Hannibal guessed every last member of the LAPD had spent that day of training at the movies for all they were eager to take on the violent criminals now.
B.A. moved over to Maria and helped move her along to a far side wall where she ought to be safe from the bullets flying through the walls and the windows, at the very least it was towards the center of the house so there'd be plenty of obstacles for any low flying rounds to get stuck in before coming at her. Then he moved over to where Hannibal, Face and Murdock were all huddled together flat on the floor.
"Alright Hannibal, so what's the plan?" he wanted to know.
Hannibal chanced raising his head to try and see what was going on outside, to his surprise no new bullets came flying in just at that time; but he still ducked back down and told the others, "Those shots are too few and far between to be more than one person, he has to be working alone."
"Which puts us at the advantage of we outnumber him, but that's about it," Face noted, "We don't know which way to get out of here to find him that he couldn't shoot us or blindside us and get in the house. And even if we could, it's still dark out, and he's adjusted to it, we're not."
"Chance we gotta take," Hannibal said, "If one of us can get to the stairs…"
"He won't be watching the upstairs windows," Murdock caught on, "We could slip out that way and get the drop on him."
"Who though?" Face asked.
"Somebody whose body will make the least impact in a fall," Hannibal said and added lightly, "If they miss there's no sense putting a crater in the ground."
"Don't think I can't read between those lines, Colonel," Murdock replied.
"First thing we gotta do," Hannibal said and trailed off, pointing over towards Maria.
"Right," Face said as they moved over to her.
When they'd made the trip out here, one thing Hannibal had stressed was they needed to keep the expectant mother, and her baby, as safe as was possible. Unfortunately she couldn't be talked into relocating to a safer place where nobody could find her. So, when he'd had Face running around the city collecting supplies, one thing he had thought of was a bullet proof vest. Unfortunately since time was of the essence, Face didn't have time to hunt around for one specifically built for people the size of an 8-month-pregnant woman, so, though nobody knew where he'd gotten it, the best he'd been able to come up with was an old police vest, back from when they were still built like full body aprons. Compared to the newer models, Face didn't want to gamble how much good it would actually do should the situation call for it, but they had to try. Hannibal and Face crawled over towards her, Face got the vest and helped Hannibal get it on her.
"Now you stay here and don't move," Hannibal told her as they got it on, "And we'll take care of your ex-husband."
Terror stricken, Maria grabbed Face's arm and pleaded, "Don't go, don't leave me!"
Any other time and Face would've had some comment about how he could get the same response out of any woman, but he was too busy trying to breathe. For a formerly skinny woman who didn't have a history of upper body building, she had a crushing grip on him that could've cracked walnuts, and his wrist was about to do the very same.
"Hannibal!" B.A. called from the other side of the room, "The fool's gone!"
"What?" Hannibal turned to the Sergeant.
From above they could hear Murdock letting out a Tarzan-esque yell, followed by a drawn out, "Geronimo!"
"That's out front!" Face said.
"Then we're going out back," Hannibal jumped to his feet, grabbed a gun and ran for the door.
Face and B.A. followed and in the first gray transference of night to day, they were able to see Maria's ex spinning around in a circle trying to throw Murdock off of his back. The Captain gleefully howled in laughter as he wrapped one hand around a huge clump of the man's hair and jerked his head upwards. With the other hand he maintained a tight grip so he could kick the man in the ribs repeatedly. For a man of Murdock's height, it wasn't often he found himself riding piggyback on another man, so he didn't have too much experience in this regard, usually if he dropped on somebody they both fell right to the ground. But he'd seen Jean pull this little stunt during a bar fight with a much larger opponent, and it seemed to work. Of course she'd had heavier boots to kick with instead of his canvas sneakers. Still, if the sounds the man under him was making were any indication, it sounded like Murdock was having a similar effect.
Hannibal watched the peculiar sight along with the other two and couldn't help chuckling. He didn't know if Murdock would win by default either from kicking the man too much, or if he'd get dizzy from trying to throw Murdock off and give up first.
"Hannibal!" Murdock hollered over to him when he realized he had an audience.
"Good work, Captain, very nice," Hannibal gave an 'OK' sign.
"Hannibal!" Murdock called again, "He' got a pineapple with him."
"What!?" B.A. couldn't believe what he'd heard.
Hannibal stopped laughing and his eyes narrowed slightly, "Dismount, Captain!"
Murdock saluted and dropped off the other man's back, and that's when the others saw him reach for the inside of his jacket, but Hannibal took the lead, in 2 steps he was over to the Army reject and bunted him in the ribs with his rifle. The other man grimaced and fell back, but Hannibal saw the grenade in his hand, took it from him, and pressed down on the lever, and yelled at the others to find the pin. Murdock crawled along the ground like a worm and quickly came up with it and helped get it reinserted into the grenade.
"Whew, that was close," he said.
Hannibal took in a heavy breath and slowly let it out and agreed, "Yes it was." He took a few seconds to compose himself before looking at the man on the ground and ordered B.A. and Face to get him tied up.
Once that was taken care of they went back into the house to let Maria know the threat was over. She'd already taken the initiative to get up and inch her way through the house to see if it was safe when they came in.
"You're sure he's not going to get loose?" she asked as they helped her out of the vest, "He's unbelievably strong."
"Yeah I know, hardcore drugs tend to do that, they pickle you so you're not affected by anything," Hannibal said, "But we've got him, don't you worry."
"Oh that's good to know," Maria sighed in relief and about fell over.
Hannibal noticed that she was looking a little pale and flushed at the same time.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She started to answer, but shook her head and answered, "No…my water broke."
"What?" Face about went through the roof, and stupidly asked, "Just now?"
"No," Maria shook her head, "Two hours ago."
That was the last thing Face heard before he fainted and fell on the floor.
"Typical Faceman," B.A. said, "First sign of a real problem and he…" and with that, the angry mudsucker's eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out too, but when he hit the floor he shook the whole room.
"Big help," Hannibal dryly commented, then looked to Murdock and said, "Alright Captain, looks like it's just you and me."
"And the mama," Murdock added.
"And the mama," Hannibal parroted as they each got on either side of Maria, "Let's see if we can get her on the bed before the baby comes."
"No-no-no, no bed," Maria fought against them, "I heard it's bad for the delivery to be lying down."
Murdock and Hannibal looked at each other with similar expressions, and Hannibal commented, "This should be interesting then."
Jean felt the dirt flying close to her feet as she heard the gunshots ring out in the early morning air. She got past a cluster of trees and all but slid down the hill and ran over to where Crane and Decker were by the car. Decker started to take a step towards her but Jean crashed into him and knocked him against the driver side door.
"Get in!" she yelled at him.
The three of them got in the front seat of the car and Jean showed herself in to the driver's side, forcing Decker into the center, and got the car started and immediately put it in reverse and buried the accelerator to the floor.
"What the hell's going on back there?" Decker demanded to know.
"They spotted us, that's what!" Jean told him as she kept an eye out the back window for any obstacles.
They cleared a couple hundred feet before Jean deemed it safe enough to slow down long enough to put it in forward gear and turn the car around before proceeding to speed along at the speedometer's limit, threatening to crack even that part of the gauge.
They didn't see any cars behind them but they were able to hear the occasional gunshot ringing out, all of them luckily just missing the car. Jean jerked the wheel sharp to one side and then all the way to the other, making their off road trip an obstacle course, winding around trees and other problem spots. In all the time Decker had been pursuing the A-Team, he'd been involved in high speed car chases that more than once left him questioning the extent of his own mortality. But looking back now he realized none of them compared in any way to the nut-job drive they were on now.
And then they were able to see the other cars chasing after them. Neither man could guess what was going through Jean's head as she threw the car into reverse and sped back towards them at full speed, swerving one way and then another so that they might crash into the other cars. It took those drivers by surprise and they swerved out of the way before they collided, and in the process they just smacked into each other instead. It worked with about three sets, the final one winding up smashed into a tree, then Jean put it forward again and put some distance between them again.
"Where the hell did you learn to drive?" Decker wanted to know.
Jean merely looked to him and replied, "I'm a stunt driver, Roddy, this is what they pay me for."
Decker groaned and smacked himself on the side of his head.
After a few more minutes, they managed to lose the rest of the cars, and a few minutes after that, they were back in civilization, but Jean didn't believe that that made them any safer.
"Well that's bought us a little time, but I sure as hell hope you got something planned, Roddy," she said, "Otherwise they're going to catch up and then they're going to have all our heads on pikes."
He could tell by the tone of her voice that she didn't have any faith in his abilities there, and it seemed that she was plotting herself, the next thing she said, half under her breath was, "Have to ditch the car, they'll recognize it." She spotted something up ahead and said to Decker, "You see what I see?"
Decker looked, and he didn't get it, "A doctor's office?"
"They ain't open yet," Jean said, "What do you want to bet they wouldn't think of looking for us in there?"
Decker thought about what she was suggesting, and then it hit him, "You mean break in."
Jean shrugged and replied, "Doctors' offices are always being broken into, their drugs get stolen…for all appearances, when the good sawbones comes in for the day, it'll just look like a run-of-the-mill hit, but it might get those psychos back there off our trail."
Using as few lights as possible to move through the office and see, Jean smashed the glass on locked cabinets and started grabbing at the medical supplies: syringes, vials of knockout drugs, potent drugs it would be very easy to overdose somebody on if need be. Decker stood in the middle of the room and just shook his head as if the whole thing was crazy and said to her, "You are a real piece of work, breaking into a doctor's office, stealing medical supplies."
"Look at you," Jean replied, "This coming from a guy who used to bomb hospitals, you tell me Roddy which one of those you think is the lesser of two evils?"
Crane watched the front door to see if anyone came in, so far they hadn't even heard anyone outside, which was good; they'd certainly been there long enough that someone would've had the opportunity to bust in and catch them. Jean walked around the room looking at bottles left on the shelves to see if there was anything left that they could use to their advantage. She stopped and stepped back and looked at some bottles on one shelf in particular. She picked up one of the dark glass bottles and examined the label.
"Ether, I didn't think they made this stuff anymore," she said, and took the top off to get a whiff of it, but not much of one. "Hey Decker, you got a lighter?"
"What the hell for?" he asked.
"I've got an idea," she grabbed two bottles, and as she turned towards Decker she asked him, "You ever see 'The Rat Patrol'?"
"Of course any good Molotov cocktail has to have a thickening agent in it," Jean said as she slammed the lid on the car trunk, "That's just common sense, fortunately motor oil works very fine for that purpose."
"How the hell did I ever get in the middle of this?" Decker wanted to know.
Jean replied dismissively like Murdock attributing something to his intermittent memory loss, "I don't know, I think it had something to do when we crashed into each other."
He glared at her and pointed out, "You crashed into me."
"Picky-picky," Jean commented as she walked past him and handed the bottle of motor oil to Crane and told him, "Here, pour a little of this in the bottles and then stuff the cotton up top for the fuses."
The Captain eyed her suspiciously but took the bottle from her and asked, "You really think they're going to follow us here?"
"I think this guy Stockwell knows who to keep on his payroll," Jean answered, "He says 'jump' and they go through hoops for him." She got up, went back over to Decker and grabbed him and started dragging him along behind her, telling him, "If you don't want your head to do a fine impression of an exploding watermelon, get down."
"You really think this is going to work," Decker said skeptically.
"I think it's going to leave Stockwell scratching his head who's onto him and why," she replied, "Though he may make the connection to the A-Team, they love explosions, they like fire, they're more partial to flamethrowers than firebombs though, but you use what you have."
Crane lifted his head up to see over the tall grass they were hunkered down in and saw lights flashing on the road ahead, he laid flat down again and said, "They're coming."
Jean lifted her head up to get a glimpse of what their guests were arriving in.
"A jeep, that's good," she said.
They waited and watched, only one vehicle came, only two people were in it. Nobody else came, and there wasn't any sign that anyone was waiting close by either. Jean, Crane and Decker got to their feet and started up the small hill leading to the road, and they took the two visitors by surprise. Decker and Crane got them in sleeper holds, but before that could actually knock them out, Jean took two prepared syringes out of her pocket and jabbed the two men in their necks with the knockout drugs she'd taken from the office. As she injected them, she was quick to note that one of them was the fake MP, and that realization wasn't lost on Decker either. When they were down for the count, she loaded the cocktails into the back of the jeep and the three of them got in and took off back the way it had come.
About a mile back they saw several cars and several men who looked like they were Army but Jean had a sneaking suspicion they were not Army and only looked the part. When they got close enough to throw things at, Jean lit one cocktail and tossed it. On impact the flames climbed high and the sky was full of billowing black clouds of smoke. She lit another and tossed it at the men, they all ran for cover and when that bomb went off, a couple of the cars caught on fire. She lit and tossed another one and saw two men jump out of the way just in time to avoid being barbecued critters. She hated to admit it but this was actually getting to be fun. But it quickly came to an end when they hit something in the road and the jeep flipped over and all three of them were thrown from it. Fortunately they'd all been thrown far enough that the jeep didn't land on any of them but unfortunately when they sat up they saw they were surrounded by men with guns.
"Well," Jean said as they all raised their arms in surrender, "It was fun while it lasted."
Hannibal used a ruler to make sure he wrote straight even though there weren't any lines on the paper to stay on. He took a pen with pitch black ink and started to fill in the details.
Sex: Girl
Date of birth: August 2nd
Time of birth: 8:03 A.M.
Weight: 6 lbs, 7 oz.
Length: 18 inches
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blonde
Mother: Maria Angelica Tepe
He picked up the paper and took it into the bedroom where Maria was still resting on the bed, exhausted, but smiling.
"Here you go, Mom," he said as he handed her the paper, "This ought to do until you can apply for a real birth certificate."
"Thank you," she groggily replied.
"Only thing I couldn't fill in was a name, what's her name?" Hannibal asked.
Maria was almost asleep, but her eyes opened and she looked up and said, "I don't know…" she tried sitting up and said, "Tell me something, why is it boys are always given junior names but girls never are?"
Her question took him by surprise, "I don't know, I never thought about it."
"Is there any reason why a girl can't be a junior too?" Maria asked.
He thought about it and shook his head, "I don't think so."
"Fine," Maria nodded tiredly, "Then I'm naming her Nancy Jr."
"Oh, after your mother?" Hannibal asked.
Maria shook her head, "No, after the baby I miscarried two years ago."
"I'm sorry," he replied.
"If it had been a girl, I was going to name her Nancy…I did name her Nancy, so I can't call this one Nancy too, that would imply the first Nancy never existed, she did even if she didn't get to live, so this one will be Nancy Jr., after her older sister."
Hannibal nodded, "That's nice."
He heard a floorboard creak and turned and saw Murdock standing in the doorway with the baby girl in his arms, wrapped up in a blanket they'd taken out of the dresser drawer that was going to serve as her bed until Maria could get a crib ready for her. Fearing for her and her baby's lives had taken priority over everything else, which had included getting all the supplies necessary for a baby; she'd stocked up in advance on newborn clothes, diapers, bottles and formula, but the nursery furniture was going to be a little late.
Without a word, Murdock tiptoed over towards the bed and handed Maria her daughter, who looked down at her baby in awe and wonder.
"You did good, Captain," Hannibal murmured to him.
Murdock turned to him and replied, "You did pretty well too, Colonel."
"Well home births were more common in my day," Hannibal told him, "I remember a thing or two," he turned around and nodded towards the stairs leading down and added, "And good thing too." Downstairs they'd left the Sergeant and the Lieutenant recovering in the living room, they'd come to shortly after the birth and both were now nursing unbelievable migraines from hitting their heads against the floor.
Hannibal leaned down and took in the sight of the mother and daughter together for the first time and smiled, "This is certainly going to be a day nobody's going to forget."
"This place looks familiar," Jean told Crane as they looked around the underground room they'd been locked in.
"That a fact?" he asked.
Jean nodded, "Couple weeks ago, the day the earthquake hit…" she looked to the wall behind them and said, "There were a bunch of boxes over there…and when the quake hit, that door up there," she pointed to the top of the stairs, "Got jammed, couldn't get out. Which I'm sure is no different than how it is now, except now it's simply locked."
"How'd you get out?" Crane asked her.
Jean looked to him and answered, "Trade secret."
Ever since they'd been locked in half an hour ago, Decker had been going around the room from wall to wall like a lost mouse in a maze, trying to find some way they could get out. There were no windows, and the only door leading out was locked, and there wasn't any way they could break it down from the inside, and there were also no tools with which they could take out the hinges.
"It's warm down here," Jean noted, "Usually basements are supposed to be cooler because they're below ground and never see the sun…especially ones like this with the stone and dirt floors, not very well put together."
Of course Jean was warm as it was in her heavy MP uniform, but she noticed even Decker and Crane were breathing heavier and starting to perspire, which they didn't ordinarily do. The air was getting thick with the dust and dirt in the room, making it harder to breathe.
"Unbelievable," Decker said, and kicked the bricks in one wall, "Un-be-lievable!" He turned around and yelled at Jean, "Every single time you come around I find myself with more trouble than I ever got chasing after the A-Team."
He went off on a tirade spouting a variety of threats, obscenities and general vulgarities. Jean took it all seemingly unfazed, and when he finally wore out she told him, "Decker if you'll just shut up for a minute, I might just be able to get us out of here."
He turned slowly and glared at her and demanded to know, "What are you talking about?"
Jean reached into her jacket and pulled out her Captain Midnight decoder ring badge. Decker squinted his eyes more than usual and asked her, "What the hell's that?"
Jean smugly answered, "It's a gift" and started turning the needle, first to 5, and then to 1, "I hope this works."
"Well it looks like Maria and her baby are going to be off to a good start now," Face commented on the drive back, "Now that her ex-husband's going to rotting in a prison cell for the next several years."
"Ain't right, Hannibal," B.A. said from up front, "We shoulda killed that sucker and you know it."
"A rare expression of truthful barbarianism from our angry mudsucker, Colonel," Murdock noted, "There's always a chance that he could get out."
"That's true," Hannibal replied, "Which is why I left specific instructions for him to be placed in solitary confinement as soon as possible so he can't pose a threat to the others."
"You just think of everything, don't you?" Face sarcastically asked.
The humdrum conversation for the trip back was broken up by a frantic beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep coming from a small screen built into the van's dashboard.
"What's that?" Face asked.
Hannibal looked to the right monitor and said, "Jean's activated the mayday alert on her ring."
Murdock lunged forward and about fell into the front seat and asked Hannibal, "Can you track the location?"
Hannibal placed a glove-clad finger against the dot blinking on the screen and said, "Yep, looks like a couple miles from here."
"Which way?" B.A. asked.
Hannibal pointed to the right, and they made a sharp turn and exceeded the speed limit by a good 20 miles.