Aren't you gonna tell me I'm not gonna get away with this?
Oh, I know you're gonna get away with this.
- Hannibal and Decker, "The Battle of Bel Air"
Chapter 29: Icy Reception
The sound of the female voice seemed to carry across the crisp winter air in much the same way snowflakes had danced through the sky over the last several days. The soft almost melodic sound was reminiscent of the soft chime of jingle bells.
From among the group with the Mayor, a beautiful woman stepped forward with tremendous confidence. It was the same person that Hannibal and Face saw being targeted after the first attempt at assassinating the Mayor had failed. Her long blonde hair flowed around her shoulders in such a way to where it looked like the golden rays of the sun, and her blue eyes looked like brilliant light blue sapphires that captivated anyone that looked at her.
In fact, she looked incredibly like . . .
The three members of the A-Team looked each other for a moment, totally stunned by this unexpected turn of events. "Daddy?" they all inquired in unison.
Hannibal's mind instantly raced as he tried to formulate a strategy to take advantage of this strange occurrence. Yet, as much as his gut was telling him to fight for their freedom and run, even though the odds were still largely against them, a very large part of him was intrigued and wanted to see how all of this played out. Besides, this couldn't be Murdock's doing, could it? Would he have had enough time to put this girl up to it before running off to get the Suburban?
What none of them could have expected was the reaction of Colonel Roderick Decker upon hearing the voice. The anger on his face faded into an odd mix of frustration as well as incredulous shock. Even though he had turned his head slightly in the direction of the woman, he didn't take his eyes or his gun off the A-Team. "Stay out of this, Nikki," he ordered firmly, determined not to let this distract him when he was this close to finally having his ultimate victory.
The expression on Templeton Peck's face was one of utter confusion and shock. His jaw had practically dropped like it had been made of solid ice. He had remembered seeing her near the Mayor when he had given his speech and had been captivated by her beauty. In fact, he had considered approaching her once everything was done and asking her out to dinner. Then, he recalled how Kramer had put her in his sights once his first attempt to kill the Mayor had been disrupted. How could someone who looked so gorgeous be . . .
Hannibal could see that Face was stunned, but for himself a look of sheer amusement crossed his face. This was far better than anything he could have ever expected, much less imagined. Rod had a daughter! Not just that, but she was working for Chicago's Mayor as well. If he could play his cards right, then he could use this to their advantage and ultimately secure their freedom right under Decker's nose.
The Decker stubbornness shone through brightly as Nicole put her hands on her hips over the long wool black trench coat that she wore. A look of determination filled her face, and fire practically burned within her blue eyes. Her voice was firm as she sternly looked at her father and shot back, "No, Daddy, I won't."
The rest of group that had been approaching the Zamboni finally arrived by the doors in the dasher boards. They had been led by Mayor Harold Washington. He was a heavy set man who looked like he could have been a defensive tackle for the Chicago Bears. His moustache was neat and trimmed to where it wasn't too thick or bushy, and his curly dark hair was very well groomed and showed distinct signs of graying around the sideburns. There was an air of regalness about him, as well as authority.
Mrs. Baracus walked next to the Mayor, able to keep up with him step by step. Her face looked like a thunderhead, ready to spew lightning and a torrential downpour any second. Although she had watched her son and the other members of the A-Team ensnare Spencer within the belly of the Zamboni, it did little to sedate the rage and anger she felt toward him. "There he is, Mr. Mayor . . . there's my son and his friends," she told him.
Harold looked back to the reporters and news crews that followed after him like a pack of wild hounds and then turned to one of the police officers who had accompanied them. Dealing with the press was a way of life for a politician in Chicago, especially someone in his position as Mayor, but he needed to try and sort out what was going on without them hovering around them like a flock of vultures. "Get them outta here," he ordered, the tone of his deep voice clearly indicating that he didn't have the patience to deal with them at the moment. Once everything was settled he could issue a statement, but right now he needed to get some answers as to why the ceremony was disrupted. He bore a serious expression on his face as he returned his focus to his assistant and the military officers as he demanded, "What is the meaning of all this?"
Nikki turned to see her employer, whom she had loyally served since the beginning of his first term in office. In a way, she was relieved since she knew how stubborn her father could be . . . how he wouldn't let go of something and was determined to see it through to the very end. It was ultimately what kept him out of her life, and her mother's life, due to his obsession with dropping everything and following orders from the military rather than trying to spend more time with them. She drew in a breath to compose herself and then started, "Mr. Mayor, my father . . ."
Decker turned his head away from Hannibal in order to look directly at his daughter. The way she persisted in this matter reminded him a lot of himself, but also her mother. He had run his own household like a well oiled military machine, and when he had given a command he expected his own family members to follow it and not disobey so blatantly. His tone of voice became much more firm and powerful as he reiterated, "I told you to stay out of this, Nikki."
Nicole stepped back slightly, looking at Harold Washington. It was clear, based on her father's response, he wasn't going to back down or divulge what was going on at her request. She knew how determined . . . no, obsessed he was when it came to dealing with the A-Team. In fact, it was her father's unwavering obsession with trying to chase down and capture the A-Team that allowed her to recognize the three men on the platform who were being held at gunpoint. Well, he may have decided not to answer her, but he would have to answer to Chicago's top elected official. Her stance indicated that she was still determined, but by looking at the Mayor it was clear that she was deferring to him.
Mayor Washington noticed his assistant looking at him and immediately picked up on the meaning without her saying a word. Even if she hadn't glanced in his direction, he would have demanded an answer anyways. There was something about this Colonel that simply didn't sit well with him at all. Just based on the first impression alone, there was an immediate dislike of Nicole's father. He drew in a breath and then turned to the Army officer as he demanded, "You may not want your daughter involved in this, but you WILL answer to me, Colonel. As Mayor of Chicago, you owe me some answers."
Decker's eyes narrowed slightly, not at all happy with his daughter's stubbornness, but also now too that it caused the Mayor of Chicago to get involved as well. And even he was demanding answers. Inwardly he cursed, realizing that he was in a situation that was less than desirable, even though he had captured the men that had eluded him for so long. If he wanted to preserve the relationship between the military and the city of Chicago, he was going to have to provide some kind of an answer. He drew himself up to full height as he explained with authority, "Mr. Mayor, these men are wanted by the government for treason, robbery, and escaping from a federal stockade. I have standing orders from the Pentagon to arrest them on sight, which supersedes any jurisdictional problems."
By this time, BA Baracus had seen and heard enough. Although he had experienced a great deal of satisfaction with seeing Spencer get what was coming to him along with the assassin-for-hire, his rage had been building again. This time, it was directed at the MPs that currently held them at gunpoint. If it hadn't been for the camera that Murdock had given him, he likely would have been at Decker's throat. "Hey, sucka! If it wasn't for us, the Mayor and your daughter wouldn't be 'live right now," he blasted angrily.
The stately Mayor Washington looked at his assistant for a moment. "Nicole . . ." he started to say, almost like a loving father that was about to chastise his daughter, although the fact that he trailed off and said no more indicated that he was looking for clarification. It was as if he was seeking confirmation if her father was correct about the jurisdictional authority.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mayor," she gave him an apologetic look as she relaxed slightly now that her father wasn't yelling directly at her. She drew in a breath and explained, "Although I've told you about my father before, I have had little contact with him since my college days about ten years ago. Once you were elected, you were sent an update by the Army since the mother of a member of the A-Team lives here in Chicago and there was a chance that they may try to visit her from time to time. That's how I found out that my father was assigned to track the A-Team down and replaced Colonel Myron Lynch."
Nicole paused for a moment, her soft blue eyes looking at the members of the A-Team. Since taking on the job of the Mayor's assistant and learning of her father's assignment, she had kept tabs on the fugitive military unit and their exploits. Now, standing here in front of her, she had a hard time believing that these men . . . who had done so much good in the lives of others . . . were as dangerous as the Army made them out to be. She was also curious as to why the African American, who was dressed in the Santa suit, claimed that they had just saved the Mayor's life along with her own. Her gaze then shifted over to look at her father. She immediately noticed a look of smug superiority etched upon his face, which indicated that he knew that he was victorious. And, in reality, he was. "In that update, it served to remind all municipalities and law enforcement agencies that the Military Police had full jurisdictional authority in matters involving the A-Team," she explained.
Sensing that things were going to shift away from their favor, Hannibal decided that it was best to assert himself in the ongoing discussion. This was likely his best opportunity to do so, and still make sure that all of the information they had gathered would be reviewed and considered . . . and just maybe, with some good timing, earn them their freedom once more. It likely would be a temporary reprieve, but it'd be just enough. "Mr. Mayor, if you might be willing to indulge us, I believe we have some information that you will find very interesting," the strategist pointed out.
The fact that he had spoken up was enough to command attention. Mayor Washington looked toward the silver-white haired individual with curiosity as he inquired, "And who might you be?"
"Colonel John Hannibal Smith," the crafty leader responded. He slowly reached into the breast pocket on the jumpsuit he wore and pulled out a cigar and a lighter. Placing the stogie into his mouth, he chewed off the end of it and spat it out at Decker's feet. His grin grew as he noticed the fierce glare from his adversary, and then proceeded to light the cigar before returning the chrome lighter to the pocket. He also noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that BA had taken his cue and was thoroughly looking over the news camera in order to find a way to reveal the contents inside.
Harold Washington arched an eyebrow as he heard the name, but also as he saw the Colonel nonchalantly pull out and light a cigar, almost as if he wasn't even being held at gunpoint. Being in his position, he had been briefed on the A-Team when he first came into office, especially since the mother of one of the members resided in Chicago. He had also heard the widespread rumors of how these wanted men came to the aid of others. These stories, in addition to the newspaper accounts of their exploits in the Los Angeles Courier Express, created an almost folklore-ish type legend.
Colonel Roderick Decker became more furious than before. He recognized the smile on Smith's face and knew that he had something up his sleeve . . . something that would likely rob him of his victory, his chance to put the A-Team behind bars where they rightfully belonged. "I would strongly advise you not to listen to these men," he protested firmly, determined to give them a very icy reception without any kind of a chance to weasel their way out of it.
The stately Mayor turned toward the Colonel. The more he dealt with this man, the more his dislike for the Army officer grew. The expression on his face indicated that he clearly wasn't happy with the advice from the head of this band of MPs. His tone of voice was sharp as he retorted, "Colonel Decker, I have a responsibility to the truth. That means that I am going to listen to what they have to say before I will allow you to take these men away. I want the full story."
Hannibal watched Decker's face harden at the response from Chicago's top official. His adversary was probably absolutely livid, although he did have to give Decker props for holding his tongue and not verbalizing just how frustrated he probably was. The silver-white haired leader smirked as he looked at his men, still very much amused by the whole situation in spite of the threat of being carted off to the stockade. "I like this man," he told Face and BA, his eyes twinkling with the Jazz.
Mrs. Baracus took the opportunity to walk up to her son. She could tell that the tension was pretty high, but she didn't care at this point. She supported Scooter and the rest of her boys, and wanted to make sure that the others knew that by standing next to him. She noticed that her son was trying to do something with the news camera, but didn't say a word.
An uncomfortable silence settled upon the gathering, hanging in the air like a thick fog. After a moment, the deep voice of Chicago's Mayor resounded, "Colonel Smith, I'm waiting to hear what you have to say . . ."
Without hesitating for a moment, Hannibal ignored the drawn guns of the MPs and stepped toward the Zamboni. He reached into the pocket of the jumpsuit he wore and fished out the keys to the resurfacer. "In the dump tank, you will find Spencer Jackson, Chief of Exhibits and Security for the Museum of Science and Industry, along with the assassin he hired to kill you . . . a man known as Kramer." He casually tossed the keys over to Captain Crane, who deftly caught them. "Those keys will start up the engine so can let them out. We already put them on ice for you."
Face lowered his hands for a moment and pulled out the miniature camera that he had used within the Museum the night before. He looked at the Mayor's assistant and flashed her a flirtatious smile . . . one that could charm the skin off a snake . . . before turning back to the Mayor himself. That smile never left his face as he began to explain, "Mr. Jackson has been using his position at the Museum to acquire materials to build sophisticated weapons. He even has stolen complete shipment of weapons from the Army. He turns around and sells them on the black market, and then alters the shipping manifests to make the items disappear." He held the camera up and mentioned, "We found a hidden vault in his office and I took some pictures of the originals as well as the altered documents."
A smug look of satisfaction appeared upon Roderick's face after he saw the camera and heard about the pictures that the Supply Officer had taken. "Pictures can be doctored, just as easily as documents falsified," he accused. He hoped that revelation would be enough to give the Mayor some doubt about the validity of what the A-Team had to say. Being a con artist, Peck could be pretty persuasive in his own right, and Smith could as well. He inwardly prayed that the Mayor would have the sense not to listen to anything these men had to say. Besides, he didn't like the smile that the Lieutenant had given his daughter . . .
Upon hearing that statement from Decker, BA glared at him fiercely. A low growl escaped his lips before the rage built up within him so much that he blasted, "If there's any funny business goin' on, it's Spencer. We ain't done nothin' with that camera since Face took them pictures."
Mrs. Baracus had been listening to what was going on, but by this time she had had enough. Her dark eyes locked onto Colonel Decker's, her face contorting in a determined look that practically screamed a warning for him not to mess with her. Her fiery temper matched that of her son as she jumped to the defense of the A-Team, "These boys wouldn't doctor any pictures that way!"
Roderick didn't even flinch under the looks he was getting from both the Sergeant and his mother. If he was in the least bit intimidated by the two, he clearly didn't show it. In fact, his voice was full of confidence as he countered, "I wouldn't be so sure about that, ma'am."
The expression on BA's face at Decker's retort to his mother made it clear that he wanted to rip the Colonel's head off. Sensing the impending explosion, Hannibal stepped up to his Sergeant and carefully rested a black-gloved hand on his bulging shoulder muscles. The touch seemed to calm the angry Ordinance Officer for the moment, although there was no telling how long that would last. That wasn't unusual, however. What did surprise Colonel Smith the most was the tone Mrs. Baracus had used in defending them . . . it was practically a mirror image of what BA had displayed. That certainly amused him as he thought to himself, 'Well, I guess I now know where he gets it from.'
"Well, it's kind of hard to doctor pictures when the film hasn't even been removed from the camera or developed," Templeton quickly pointed out, hoping that maybe that revelation could give a bit more credibility to the pictures he had taken.
Mayor Washington was curious as to how the A-Team had managed to acquire such pictures, but even if the film was still undeveloped he came to an important realization. "I'm afraid Colonel Decker is correct, gentlemen," he told them solemnly. "Pictures alone would not hold up in court or be enough to guarantee a conviction."
Hannibal simply smiled as he casually noted, "Oh, we have plenty more, Mr. Mayor." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an almost indistinguishable nod from the muscular Sergeant and knew exactly what that meant. He then glanced to his Lieutenant, giving him the signal to step in and continue relaying the details.
Without hesitating, Face immediately pulled out a micro-cassette player from his parka to add to the camera that he was already holding. "Once we started suspecting Spencer Jackson, we bugged his office and that of Mrs. Baracus to see what we could turn up with. We recorded a late night phone call that Mr. Jackson made from Mrs. B's desk to one of his buyers . . ." he began to state, trailing off with a knowing smile. He paused for a moment and then revealed, ". . . is one Gino Scarlotti."
"He was usin' my Mama's phone to set her up and take the fall for him," BA interjected firmly. He tried not to show it, but he was starting to grow impatient. Every moment that passed meant that there was a greater chance that Decker was going to haul all of them off and put them behind bars . . . and right in front of his Mama, too. He just hoped that Hannibal could somehow convince the Mayor into letting all of them go.
"Scarlotti . . . that name sounds familiar," Nicole mused. It was clear that she had heard the name before, but was trying to recall specifically where.
"It should," Face jumped in again with a knowing smile. "The guy runs an Italian mafia. He kidnapped the daughter of a judge that was about to rule that his brother was guilty and send him to prison for a long time." His blue eyes appraised her slender figure, but he tried hard not to turn on the charm . . . at least not too much. Now that they knew that she was Colonel Decker's daughter, he didn't want Decker thinking that he was trying to hit her. That was the last thing he and the A-Team needed at the moment.
Mayor Washington looked at Face skeptically, almost as if doubting what he had just revealed. "How do you know that it was Scarlotti?" he wondered.
"We checked out the phone number that Spencer had dialed. It came up with a name and address for Brad Johnson here in Chicago. He runs a shipping company that has been known for dealing products to the black market. You can bet this guy is heading up all of Scarlotti's so-called family business in this city," Face explained. He hoped that the fact that this was happening all under the Mayor's nose would help to compel him to take action on the information they were presenting. But, just in case there was still some doubt, they still had plenty more to present to him where that came from.
Picking up where the Lieutenant left off, Hannibal started to slowly walk over toward the Zamboni. He could see through his ice blue eyes that the handguns and rifles of the MPs were trained on him in case he tried anything, and that just increased the thrill of the moment. He stood next to the machine and smacked the dunk tank with his gloved hand a couple of times, almost as if trying to taunt those that were trapped inside.
"Scarlotti wanted to buy the prototype of a very sophisticated weapon that only Mr. Jackson was able to get his hands on . . . and that was due to his position at the Museum of Science and Industry and the type of exhibits they display," the silver-white haired strategist explained. "Before he committed to buy it, Scarlotti wanted a demonstration of the weapon . . . a very public demonstration that he would hear the news about in Italy. What better way to show the capabilities of such a weapon than to arrange for the assassination of an important politician during a very large public event with minimal security and a lot of news coverage?"
It was clear on the expression on Colonel Decker's face that he didn't believe a single word of what was said. To him, the A-Team were sneaky and he considered this whole story just another fabricated tale to try and get out of their current predicament. But, as he looked over to the Mayor, it seemed as if Chicago's top elected official was starting to seriously consider what they were saying! Yet, there was an important question that still needed to be asked. "If this was an assassination attempt, then where is the weapon that was used?" Roderick demanded skeptically.
"Right here, sucker," BA spoke up before letting out a low growl. His fingers expertly lifted off half of what appeared to be the news camera. Sitting within the shell was a sleek black weapon, almost half the length of an ordinary rifle. In addition to what seemed like chambers for a clip of bullets and what looked like miniature rockets, it also had something unusual . . . a power pack of some short, making it resemble something from out of Star Trek or Star Wars.
"Kramer was hired to do the dirty work and fire the killing shot. He's also chilling out in the dump tank. We found this in his pocket," Face quickly added, pulling out the paper he had retrieved from the assassin and handed it over to the Mayor. "If you take this to an analyst, you'll see that the handwriting on here matches that of Spencer Jackson."
Harold Washington took the crumpled paper, opening it up to allow both himself and his assistant a chance to read the handwritten names that were on the white page. In addition to a handwritten detailed outline of who was supposed to be speaking when and the times, there was one time that was circled. There were also several names that were hand written on there, including himself, Nicole, and a few others that were scheduled to appear on the platform with him and deliver speeches. From the way it looked, this apparently was going to turn out to be more of a blood bath rather than the simple assassination of one individual.
But one name was missing from that handwritten list of those that were scheduled to speak . . . Spencer Jackson.
"Oh my goodness . . ." Nikki uttered softly as the realization hit her. Her face bore an expression of total shock, almost as if she couldn't believe what had been narrowly averted. But, there was something else which also caused her to mutter that exclamation. "Sir, we had a stringer request for a press pass for the event late this morning . . . practically at the last minute. I'd say no more than two hours before the ceremony. I didn't question it because most stringers try to sell their tapes to the various news agencies, but it was unusual since all of the major outlets had already secured their passes."
Colonel Decker still kept his gun trained on the members of the A-Team, but moved closer to the Mayor to also look at the piece of paper. He knew that Templeton Peck was very skilled at forging a person's handwriting, having signed several procurement requests in Vietnam and made it look like it came from someone other than himself. Even this list could have been falsified. Still, there was the matter of his daughter's name on the list, but he couldn't get over the nagging feeling that the wool was being pulled over their eyes. Glaring at his adversary, he challenged, "How do we know this isn't some plan you've set up, Smith?"
The smile on Hannibal's face faded as he bore a deadly serious look. He couldn't believe that, with all of the evidence presented so far, that Roderick was still questioning the validity of it. "We've known each other since West Point, Decker, and even crossed paths in 'Nam. Although we don't always agree on things, you know how we operate, so why don't you ask yourself the same question?" he shot back, knowing full well how stubborn Decker could be. He hoped that, by turning the question around, perhaps Decker would seriously give the situation some thought and realize that maybe they were telling the truth.
Recognizing what was a potential impasse, Mrs. Baracus knew that something had to be done to remedy it or they could be standing there out in the cold all day. That's when an idea came to her that potentially could break that and garner a resolution. "Mr. Mayor, I think this could be settled faster if someone played that tape. I've worked with Spencer, so I'd know his voice well enough to tell if the tapes were altered," she suggested.
Mayor Washington looked to the older, slightly portly woman that stood next to the muscular African American in the Santa suit. Her idea certainly had an incredible amount of merit, and could help to resolve this situation. Plus, she had risked her own life in order to get him and others on the stage to safety, so if nothing else he at least owed her that much . . . to check the contents of the tape as she requested. He gave a slight nod in the direction of his assistant, a clear indication what he wanted her to do.
Nicole noted the nod from her employer and walked up to Templeton Peck. Her eyes starkly contrasted with her father's. His were cold and unfeeling just as she believed his heart was, where hers were like warm, inviting pools that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. She drew near to the Lieutenant, regarding his handsome looks. She saw a very charming smile appear upon his lips and when her eyes locked with his, for a brief moment, she could have sworn that she heard a small sigh from the dashing gentleman. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the scowl on her father's face, which seemed to darken more by her actions. Very deliberately, she looked back at the con man and smiled in return.
She reached up with her right hand and gently brushed several locks of her long, golden blonde hair behind her ear. She lowered her hand from her ear and reached for the small tape player and miniature camera that the Supply Officer held within his left hand. Their hands touched and she lingered there for a moment, savoring the feel of his skin touching hers. She never imagined that someone who had been in the military had hands that felt as soft as his. Nicole then took the tape player and camera from his hand, and slowly returned to the Mayor's side. Her thumb moved along the side of the small tape player and depressed the play button, allowing those in the immediate area to hear the contents of the tape.
"I have the merchandise as promised," Spencer Jackson's voice could be heard over the tape recording. "Right. I have the demonstration planned . . . right . . . just as we agreed . . . of course. He has my word . . . tomorrow. Yes, I know there will be heavy security, but the man I have lined up is a professional. You just take care of your end of the deal, and I'll take care of mine. Of course it's in a safe place. A very dear friend of mine has conveniently provided me with a place to hide the plans." There was a short bark of laughter before he continued, "No one will ever suspect her. She's been working at the Museum so long she's almost an attraction herself, and the President of the Museum absolutely adores her."
"That's his voice," Mrs. Baracus expressed vehemently before the tape was even half played. Her anger was almost overwhelming, and it was clear based on her reaction that she would have likely ripped his head off if he hadn't been within the dump tank. "That's the smelly, slime-covered resident of a cesspit who used me! That low down, no good son of a . . ."
"Mama!" BA said. He was clearly stunned and in shock at the descriptive language she had used to describe Spencer, but even so he was unable to resist a small smile from appearing upon his lips due to her reaction. It was the first time she had heard that tape, after all. The Sergeant had glanced over to Hannibal and Face, who had both moved back to where they had been standing when Decker initially corralled them, and noted the amused smiles on their faces also likely due to what his mother had said.
The tape recording continued as Spencer could still be heard on it. "All right . . . yes . . . everything is in place. There shouldn't be anything to worry about. It'll go down like clockwork. You'll see . . . and with the press coverage, it'll make international news. I'll notify you when everything has been completed."
"Well, I've heard enough," Harold Washington noted firmly, almost sounding disgusted by the fact that someone that had been part of the Museum and provided the Zamboni, much less stood on the stage with him, would have even considered having such a heinous act committed. He moved over to stand in front of the three men that had explained the situation. "It seems that we owe the A-Team a debt of gratitude."
Hearing that was more than enough to make Colonel Roderick Decker absolutely livid. He could hardly believe his ears. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was likely going to come next unless he could step in and do something about it while he still had a chance. "I don't care what debt you think you owe these men. They are still wanted fugitives, and I intend to make sure they are locked behind bars for a very long time, where they belong," he retorted firmly.
For Adele Baracus, enough was enough. It had been very difficult as it was when Murdock told her that her son and the others had been thrown in jail for their late night visit to Spencer. Now, faced with the prospect that they could be carted away and thrown in jail before her eyes? That was too much for her to bear. Her eyes started to water and her voice quivered as she pleaded, "Colonel, you wouldn't be so heartless as to keep a boy from seeing his Mama at Christmas, would you?"
Oh no . . .
Decker almost physically winced once he heard the anguish in the voice of Mrs. Baracus. Having her become completely distraught and break down into tears right in front of him was the last thing that he needed. That'd be a huge field day for the press. In fact, he could practically see the headlines right then and there . . . 'Mother denied by military from seeing fugitive son for Christmas after he saves Mayor from assassination.' Oh yeah, that would go over real well . . .
For Chicago's Mayor, he had a difficult decision to make, although all of the evidence that he had been presented was overwhelming and really made his course of action clear. Plus there was the matter of Mrs. Baracus, who had gone above and beyond to usher all of them to safety when the chaos erupted. Inwardly, he was glad that the police officers had managed to get the press a distance away, otherwise he'd likely have to answer a ton of questions immediately rather than issuing a statement later. He drew in a breath and then looked over to the person that intended to put the A-Team away for a very long time. "Colonel Decker, in light of how these men have saved our lives, the information provided, and their containment of those responsible for the assassination attempt, I believe an exception is in order," Harold Washington told Roderick in a tone that indicated that he wasn't going to settle for any other answer.
Decker turned around and looked out over the ice rink. In the time that the A-Team had presented the evidence against those that they captured, the panic stricken crowd had lessened. He hadn't heard any reports of injuries or people being trampled in their attempt to escape from the weapons fire that had gone off, so he inwardly thanked his own men and the Chicago police for maintaining such a high level of control and allowing the crowds to leave once they realized that the situation was relatively contained. He could also see the members of the media, who were being corralled and led away from the area by a couple of police officers, as well as what he assumed to be a spokesperson from the Mayor's office. That was a relief, since he didn't want to deal with them any more than the Mayor seemed like he wanted to right now.
His thoughts turned to the fugitive military unit that he had relentlessly chased for almost two years and was assigned to bring to justice. The various scum of the Earth they had managed to bring down since their escape from Fort Bragg did not excuse the crimes they had been accused of . . . robbery, treason, and desertion. Yet, he could not deny that the A-Team were like modern day Robin Hoods in a sense. It wasn't that they stole from the rich to give to the poor. No, it was more of the whole concept behind it. Despite the risk that they faced if they were to be caught, they always strove to help those who couldn't help themselves . . . people that the system seemed to turn against or abandon. If they hadn't been here this time around, several people probably would have been lying in a pool of blood . . . including the Mayor of Chicago and his very own daughter.
"Daddy?" Nikki inquired softly, the tone of her voice very uncertain since she wasn't sure if her father's silence was a good sign or not. Her gaze came to rest upon Roderick's back, which made it difficult to tell what he was thinking since she couldn't see his face. "Please . . ."
Despite being a stickler for the rules since his military career had been derailed after Vietnam, Decker was still a man of principle and honor. Although it was his duty to arrest the A-Team and see that they were returned to the stockade, he could not ignore what had just happened. As much as he hated to admit it, he owed them for saving the life of his daughter. Sure, they had been estranged, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't want a chance to possibly re-connect with her and rebuild the father-daughter relationship that he desired.
With a heavy sigh, Colonel Decker turned back to face the small group that breathlessly waited for his decision. He clicked the safety back onto his service revolver and slipped it back into the holster within his winter coat. Even in spite of this, his eyes had a hard edge to it as he never once took them off those before him. He drew in a deep breath and then announced, "You and your men are free to go this time, Smith. Just because you saved my daughter's life and I'm letting you go now, that doesn't mean that you'll have it this easy the next time." With the harshness of his tone of voice, it was very clear that he meant every word he had just uttered.
"I'm counting on it," Hannibal simply grinned around his cigar. If there was one thing the cunning strategist could count on, it was Decker giving them a run for their money time after time after time again. Those encounters provided him with an incredible thrill, not to mention a surge of the Jazz that he so loved.
Roderick simply glared at his adversary . . . the look on his face for a moment making those present question whether or not he was going to go back on his word. He looked absolutely livid . . . practically ready to kill, or at least get a good solid chance to rip the smug smile off Hannibal's face. His voice became a bit darker as he urged, "I suggest you get out of here before I change my mind. I'm going to have a hard enough time as it is explaining all of this if the top brass or any other officials gets wind of what happened here."
BA looked utterly shocked and confused. For all that time that Decker had been chasing them down, he never once thought that something like this would happen. "I don't believe it," he muttered, his tone of voice clearly indicating just how stunned he was with this turn of events. He glanced over to his Commanding Officer, still unsure if he could believe his ears.
"I'll see that the exact details of your involvement in what happened here goes no further than this group, although you have my gratitude and the gratitude of all of Chicago," Mayor Washington offered, with a slight smile on his face. He looked directly at Colonel Smith and gave him a knowing nod. "As far as I'm personally concerned, you will always be welcome here. I have, however, heard enough stories about how the three of you manage to escape every time you get caught. Should the press find out, it shouldn't be too hard to convince them that you slipped away in the confusion."
The Colonel saw the Mayor extend his right hand. He met it with his own gloved right hand, and shook it. "It was our pleasure, Mr. Mayor," John Hannibal Smith responded warmly. Although the A-Team never received any accolades, it certainly was a good feeling to know that their efforts were appreciated . . . especially by someone so important. After they broke the handshake, his eyes ice blue eyes watched as the Mayor started to walk away with most of his entourage.
Only Nicole Decker remained behind. She walked up to her father, and the two of them exchanged a few words . . . although it was quiet enough to where none of the A-Team could hear what they were discussing. The way they appeared to be talking, and with the look on Nikki's face, it seemed that they were having a bit of a heart to heart. That was confirmed a moment later as the cunning strategist watched her wrap her arms around Decker to give him a big hug before they walked away together.
A look of complete and utter shock filled the face of Templeton Peck. His jaw dropped for a moment, almost as if it was made of solid ice. He then looked to his Commanding Officer and asked, "Hey, Hannibal, do you believe this? Decker actually does have a heart."
A sparkle appeared within Hannibal's eyes as he reached up with his left hand to remove the cigar from his mouth. His face lit up with a huge grin that would have outshone even the brightest light bulbs . . . a clear indication that he was still very much on the Jazz and loving every second of it. He looked to his men and then proclaimed, "I love it when a plan comes together!"
Adele Baracus wrapped an arm around her son, greatly relieved that mean ol' Colonel wasn't going to be hauling any of her boys off behind bars. She leaned her head against Scooter's strong muscular arm, and felt him return the embrace as she also watched the Colonel walk away with his daughter. When she heard Hannibal's statement, she simply smiled and then added, "Or a family . . ."
Hannibal looked to Mrs. B, his grin growing even bigger and brighter when he heard her chime in. He wedged the cigar between his teeth and told her warmly, "Well said."