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This page last viewed: 2017-08-23 and has been viewed 2970 times
Summary: They say turnabout is fair play – is it? Another mission gone awry.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, don't make any money from this. I do it for the jazz, man, for the jazz!
This is actually a bundled response. It includes a story orphan from Ccccccc222 at the A-Team Archive, regarding some of the scams they used for BA's preflight drugging: "What if Murdock really did get the sedative meant for BA, and they were stuck wherever they were with no backup."
It also includes the "list of cliches challenge" from the ATSB-2, the trick being to work all ten cliches into your story:
as helpful as a screen door on a submarine
don't count your chickens before they're hatched
fine as frog hair
more here than meets the eye
he went a ways down the road
the waiting is the hardest part
the clickety-clack of the railroad track
he'd give you the shirt off his back
talk 'till you're blue in the face
"Murdock! Murdock, talk to me!" Face bent over his friend, who'd fallen to the ground just a moment before.
"Come on, buddy. Wake up." Face was patting Murdock on the side of his face. "You've gotta fly us out of here before Seamus gets back with his goons."
"You can talk 'till you're
blue in the face, Face, but I believe Sergeant Baracus, here, pulled a little
switch on us."
"What? BA's the only one who put mayo on ham…." Face's sentence trailed off as realization dawned on him.
Face rose slowly and started to pace back and forth somehow managing, without looking, to step over Murdock's legs with each pass. "Boy, oh boy," he muttered, glaring at BA, who was calmly finishing his lunch. "You've really done it this time. When it comes to picking the very *worst* time to screw us up with your phobias, you've got the Midas touch, you know that?"
BA got up from the picnic bench and placed himself solidly in front of Face. "We ain't flyin'," he growled.
"Well, obviously." Face stood toe to toe with BA, not allowing the bigger man to intimidate him. "We're frankly in a bit of a jam now. We need to get out of here and meet Marshall by tomorrow morning to hand over the evidence which, may I remind you, we're getting *paid* to deliver, for a change." Face started to pace again, running his hand through his hair. "It's a short trip by plane, but it's an all-day drive to the rendezvous point. Seamus and his crew will block the roads and head out after us any time now. So if you don't mind my saying so, BA, your sense of timing really leaves a lot to be desired!" Face stopped in front of BA, breathing heavily as he finished his rant.
"I have to say I agree with
"And we're gonna sink just as fast if we don't come up with new plan," Face added. "Hey." His face brightened a bit as a thought came to him. "Maybe he didn't take too big a bite." He gave a small, hopeful smile, and knelt by Murdock again, shaking his shoulder. "Come on, buddy. Naptime's over…."
"It takes a lot more sedative
to knock BA out than Murdock,"
"Great," Face groaned, sitting Indian style, resting his chin on his hand, next to Murdock. "Just great."
BA suddenly felt uncomfortable.
Between Face's accusing stare and
"So what now, Hannibal?" Face asked gloomily from his seat on the ground.
BA squirmed as the two stared at him expectantly. Maybe flying would have been better.
If he'd been feeling pleased with himself earlier, BA was now sorry after humping through the countryside most of the afternoon with Murdock slung over his shoulder. For a guy who looked skinny, he packed a lot of dead weight.
Face had discovered there was a train station about two miles from their position. Though they were pretty sure Seamus would have it covered, it was their only option at the moment. Their previous transportation had had what Murdock called "an unfortunate pyrotechnic incident." They'd been lucky to make it out alive, and Face was still complaining hours later that he was cleaning pieces of windshield and radiator out of his hair.
The waiting was the hardest part
They waited quietly, concealed in
the bushes, for the sign from Face; he went a ways down the road before
signaling to them that all was clear. No visible police, MPs, and more
importantly, no sign of Seamus or his men.
Face continued on the gravel road towards the train platform, and upon reaching it spoke quickly with the lone ticket agent. Moments later, Face came to meet them at the back of the platform pushing a courtesy wheelchair.
"We think he broke his leg hiking." He murmured the cover story to the other two as they hoisted Murdock into the chair and appeared to collaborate on how to adjust one of the leg supports into an upward position. "The ticket agent suggested we take the train to the next town – there's a hospital there."
Face grinned and patted a copy of the train schedule in his shirt pocket. "The train'll be here in 40 minutes. Goes straight through, with half an hour to dig up transportation from the train to the client's house. We'll be able to meet with him right before the FBI arrives for their meeting with him."
"Push Murdock, will ya?" Face stepped back from the wheelchair. "I'm gonna buy tickets for the next stop, then we'll get new tickets at the next station for the rest of the trip." Face grinned at
Hannibal, who puffed on his cigar and smiled back. "We'll be there in no time."
Just as Face turned, three men stepped from behind the ticket booth.
"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, gentlemen," a man said, pointing his gun at the Team. "Drop your weapons, please."
After a moment of hesitation,
"Or a .45 pointed at your head," Seamus replied, grinning back. "Why don't you tell me where that microfilm you stole from me is?"
"Microfilm?" Face looked innocently at Hannibal, who looked at BA, who shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Face. "We don't know where it is," Face continued.
"Enough!" Seamus said loudly.
One of Seamus's
henchmen gestured towards Murdock with the barrel of his gun. "What's
wrong with him?" he asked
"Broke his leg in the explosion. We gave him some pain killers and they knocked him out."
Murdock shifted in the chair and snored softly.
"That's fine," Seamus said with a dark smile. "It just means he won't have as far to fall when he hits the ground, like the rest of you. Kevin, Michael." He gestured to his two men. "Take them out behind the station and shoot them. Then search them for the microfilm."
"Boy," Face said. "You take shoot first and ask questions later to a whole new level, don't you?"
"Shut up," Seamus snapped, then turned to his men. "Use the silencers and make it quick. I don't want a commotion. And don't let them push the chair," he continued, as he walked up the
platform. "I don't want any funny business."
Kevin took the handles of the wheelchair and started pushing as Michael herded the other three in front of the chair. As they turned the corner and went behind the ticket booth, Murdock's leg slipped out of the support and began to drag on the ground.
"Hey, Mike," Kevin said. "Push this bastard's leg back up, willya? I can't move this chair with it draggin' like that."
With a frustrated growl, Michael leaned forward to get hold of Murdock's leg.
As soon as Michael's head was lowered far enough, Murdock's hands came down on the back of his head, holding it steady as he slammed his knee into the bridge of the henchman's nose. While the blow didn't have enough force to knock him cold, he was incapacitated long enough for Face to take his weapon. Simultaneously, BA made short work of Kevin with a mighty punch to his head.
"Fine as frog hair," Murdock drawled, wiping clumsily at a spot of blood on the knee of his pants. "Shoot," he muttered. "These were new, too." His words slightly slurred, as if the sedatives had not fully worked out of his system. He glared blearily at BA, who came over to help him out of the chair. "I'll talk to you later," he said, stumbling against BA as he stood, annoyance clear in his voice.
"Hey, Murdock," Face
said as he walked up, straightening his jacket. "Have a nice nap?" He
smiled and handed
"Yeah," Murdock said, pulling it from the back waistband of his pants. "You know, one of you could've taken it out for me," he complained. "Feels like it's been diggin' into my back for the last -- " he checked his watch and opened his mouth in shock. "Three hours?" His glare turned sharper. "Oh, we're really gonna talk, BA...."
"No time for that now,
"It'll save the FBI the trouble of making a special trip to pick up Seamus," Face agreed, checking his newly appropriated gun for ammo.
They proceeded in single file
along the wall to the corner of the ticket booth, with Face taking the point,
followed by BA.
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