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Rating: R (for violence and language almost said… don’t ask

Rating: R  (for violence and language almost said… don't ask.  Read and it'll make sense.)

Summary:  This story takes place in Vietnam.  In the early days of the team, before they became really close.  The beginning might take some explaining.  It starts out with one of the characters as acting point guard.  In other words, he's a good 100 yards ahead of the team scouting out the jungle and watching out for enemy.  Blah blah blah.  I didn't explain this in the story because I felt it'd only add information that would take away from the general feeling I was going for… in other words, it's my story, deal with it… and I mean that in the nicest way possible?

Comments: Please send me comments… the good, the bad, and the ugly!  Look at it this way, without comments, I can't improve, and then you'll have to live with my crapshack writing for the rest of your lives!

Disclaimer: I don't own the A-Team… blah blah blah.  They belong to S. J. C.  Forgive me for wanting the story to live on. 


Special Thanks to Wendybyrd!!  You rock… that's really all there is to it!  Thanks for being my beta buddy and for being such a "picky bi---" as you so ingeniously put it.  And thanks for putting up with me being such a stubborn idiot.  I take full responsibility for this story sucking in any way.  Wendybyrd tried… I'm just rebellious J 


Guardian Angel  

By: Maygin




                Face jumped around at the sound of the rapid gunfire.  No. No. NO! his mind screamed as he sprinted back the way he'd come.  As he got closer, he was suddenly aware the gunfire had stopped and all that was left was garbled and confused yelling.  Screaming Vietnamese voices mixed with American soldiers trying to reason.

 He stopped dead in his tracks and ducked behind a large tree.  Think.  Think.  Think.  He closed his eyes a moment to try and blot out the disgustingly green jungle before him.  What the hell am I supposed to do?   Despite the deafening pounding in his ears from his rapid-fire heart, two words made it through to his brain.  His breath caught mid-way in his chest and his eyes flew open. 

"Kill them." 

In a split second, Face thanked Hannibal for making him learn the basics of Vietnamese.  He heard one of the Vietnamese spat it out, and suddenly he no longer had any problem deciding what to do.  He turned and as quickly and quietly as he could climbed the tree.  When he reached a decent enough height, he looked out and could barely see the rest of his unit all lying on their stomachs, hands over their heads. 

They had been separated into two groups.  Vietnamese soldiers were standing over them, some still shouting, others just waiting for an excuse to pull their triggers.  One in particular was kneeling before what looked like Captain Murdock and some other men who'd been separated from the Colonel and a few other officers.  Face could see what must have been the highest ranking Vietnamese officer shouting at the Captain in his native language.  The Lieutenant could barely make out the words, "spy…CIA…confess now…die." 




Captain Murdock closed his eyes as everyone was screaming things he didn't understand, including Hannibal.  Not only that, this one soldier seemed to have an issue with him and had a gun pressing down on his head.  Suddenly the man stepped back and ordered something to the man next to him.  Hannibal raised his voice; desperately pleading with the soldiers as the man next to the Vietnamese officer cocked his gun and took aim at the Captain's head. 




Face watched as the situation became more frantic and confused.  He pulled his rifle around and mentally screamed at himself for not bringing his sniper scope.  Stop it! he chastised himself. What could've been, isn't.  So shut up and focus!  Precious seconds ticked by as he carefully found a somewhat stable position and focused the less than adequate sight at the end of the gun on the group far from his position.  Squinting one eye shut he carefully took aim.  A second later, he let out a frustrated breath quickly wiping the sweat from his forehead before it ran into his eyes.  Shifting the gun in his hands again, he blinked hard to bring the group back into focus.  Finally, he threw up a quick prayer and held his breath.




Murdock let out an exasperated gasp as the officer cocked his gun while the other one started screaming at him again.  "I don't know!"  he finally cried out.  "I don't understand you!"  The rifle was pressed against his head. 

Hannibal tried to get to his knees, to get the officer's attention while still trying to control the situation.  Suddenly all the Vietnamese soldiers began yelling and threatening with their guns.  Everyone seemed to be screaming out orders or threats.  Some of the American soldiers began shifting around in panic, others pleading with God for help.

Finally the lead officer threw his arms out and yelled an order to his men.  They instantly quieted.  He turned his head to his fellow comrade and spat out another command with a jerk of his head towards the Captain, who looked to the Colonel for some help he knew wasn't possible. 




As soon as Hannibal heard the order, all the chaos suddenly came close to a halt.  He saw the split-second fear in the Captain's eyes.  The look of a man that knew he was going to die.  Then as if in slow motion, he turned and looked at the officer and the man who was about to kill one of his men.  He continued to plead and argue, his voice sounding distant and foreign as if on automatic. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his Sergeant move to attack.  The few precious seconds playing out before his eyes simply weren't enough.  His Sergeant would never make it in time to help and his Captain was about to have his head blown off.  The frustration and confusion of the moment suddenly transformed from every fiber of his being into one single plea that tore from his lungs. 




The Captain squeezed his eyes shut as everything seemed to go silent except for the thunder of his heart echoed by the crisp click of the rifle. 

A gunshot ripped through the air.  No one breathed or moved a muscle as the man holding the gun to the Captain's head without warning, fell backwards to the ground, blood spurting out of his chest from a bullet through the heart. 

Hannibal's mouth gaped as he drew in a slow, shaky breath.  The Vietnamese officer took a step back in shock at his fellow soldier lying dead on the jungle floor.  Sergeant Baracus, his large hands spread at his side, ready to annihilate someone, was crouching motionless at the sudden change of events.  Hearing the absence of his head exploding, Captain Murdock cautiously opened his eyes.  Seeing the corpse before him, he finally let his lungs exhale in a small, shocked, grateful gasp.  Closing his eyes again, he sent up a quick thanks and then looked to the Colonel who with narrowed eyes, scanned the jungle around them.

The Vietnamese Officer and the rest of his unit also partook in scanning the jungle.  Seeing only green and hearing only the normal jungle sounds the officer straightened his back once again and called to another of his men across from him.  Hearing the order, the man quickly raised his gun towards the captain and squeezed his finger around the trigger.  Another -zip- sliced through the air.  The soldier's arms flew out to his side as a bullet ripped through his back, taking claim to the man's heart.  The body fell forward with a thud.

This time the entire enemy unit ducked low to the ground.  The Officer quickly whispered out some more orders.  In reply, three of the twelve men left turned and quietly dispersed into the jungle.  The officer and the rest of his men stayed awkwardly crouched, their guns still trained on the Americans lying on the jungle floor.

Seeing the Colonel still on his knees and the Sergeant in a half crouch, one of the soldiers turned his attention, including his rifle towards them, ordering them to lie back down.

                The Colonel slowly made his way back down. 

"Sergeant," he ordered cautiously, knowing the look in the man's eyes.  Scowling, the Sergeant reluctantly moved to lie down again.  The impatient Vietnamese however felt the large man wasn't moving fast enough and decided to help him along, pressing his rifle into his back.  Losing his resolve, the Sergeant whipped around with a deadly growl to tear the man apart, but instead found himself looking down the barrel of the rifle.  The other soldier never had a chance though as the bullet tore through his back and out the front, catching the Sergeant in the arm.  Baracus grunted as the bullet grazed his left bicep.

                The Vietnamese Officer quietly cursed, once again scanning the jungle.  He then looked to the American Colonel who was pulling the bandana from around his neck and handing it to Baracus who was now lying on the ground as well.

 "Who?" the Officer growled out.

                The Colonel tied off the once bandana, now tourniquet, on his Sergeant's arm and then turned his attention towards the foreign man.  "Looks as though we've got a Guardian Angel," he surmised just as much for the enemy as for his own men.




The Lieutenant squeezed the trigger again and winced as he saw the bullet pass through the man's body and cut the Sergeant.  He grimaced knowing the Sergeant would have a few words for him later.  Who am I kidding? he chastised.  The man didn't use words he used his fists.  He froze suddenly though as a snapping tree branch cut through the normal jungle music.  He hesitantly tore his eyes from the group and did a quick scan of the area around him. 

Carefully he turned his head towards the direction of the disturbance.  Though his heart was still going a hundred miles an hour, he kept his breathing even and quiet.  All his internal alarms were going off as he peered hard into the thick green of the jungle.  He narrowed his eyes as he concentrated on why a certain bush not too far away kept nagging at the back of his mind.  Focusing a little harder, he suddenly found himself making eye contact with the enemy and a brief shimmer of light reflected from the gun aimed straight for him.  The Lieutenant quickly threw himself from his branch and grasped onto another one as a bullet lodged into the tree where his head once was.  As soon as his feet found another branch, he whirled his gun around the main body of the tree and fired.  The enemy's gun flew from his hands as he fell to the ground.

The Lieutenant paused, waiting for movement.  Seeing none, he let out a small sigh.  Out of the blue, the bark next to his head exploded, sending splinters everywhere.  He spat out a curse and quickly shimmied down the tree, more bark exploding around him as two more bullets missed their mark by mere inches.  Ducking under a large branch, he jumped the last ten feet to the ground and rolled to his feet.  He snatched his gun up from where it landed and sprinted into the jungle.




The Colonel's head jerked up as he heard one shot echoed by another, quickly followed by three more.  Silence ensued.  Everyone was listening and waiting.  It was unnerving. 

"It looks as though your Guardian Angel is no longer a problem," the Officer sneered.

Smith's ice-cold eyes glared at the man, hatred burning through his veins.  Never breaking eye contact with the Colonel, the Officer smugly gave out another order.  One of the soldiers smiled and nodded.  Bringing his rifle to his shoulder, he aimed at the Captain.  He didn't even get his finger around the trigger before the pain ripped through his back and exploded in his heart.  The body fell on top of the first one.  The Vietnamese soldiers quickly crouched down again, their eyes wildly searching the jungle.  Frustrated, the Officer sent two more men into the jungle to join the search.

Smith smirked and turned his head to find Baracus grinning back at him.  Captain Murdock looked up and sighed.  "Well this is getting old."




Peck slightly lowered his gun from his position of lying on the jungle floor.  He leaned his head down wiping the sweat from his forehead onto his sleeve.  He couldn't believe he'd completely circled around the group as fast as he did.  The Lieutenant just knew God had to be paying special attention to him today or he wouldn't have just 'happened' to stop where there just 'happened' to be a clear view of his unit and seen his recently new friend about to become a thing of the past. 

Seeing the danger was seemingly focused back on him, Peck rolled onto his back.  His keen eyes picked up the sound of an enemy close by.  How close obviously didn't occur to him as the bush he was lying under suddenly parted and a Vietcong stepped through, practically on top of him.  Surprised and somewhat dumbfounded, he did the first thing that came to mind.  His foot kicked up making contact with the man's groin.  The soldier dropped his gun and doubled over, moaning in pain.  Peck scrambled to his feet and brought the butt of his rifle down on the man's head.

He stole a quick glance at his unit again and then scurried behind a tree.  As promised, another Vietcong slithered into view only seconds later.  Passing the tree, the soldier went to check his friend.  Peck quietly followed.  Hearing a twig snap behind him, the soldier whirled around only to be met with a rifle smashing into his head.  The man clumsily fell next to the other, unmoving.  The Lieutenant kneeled beside him and began checking the unconscious men's pockets. 

"I am sick… and tired… of killing you guys," he whispered accusingly.  He smirked as he pulled out a roll of wire from one of the pockets.  "This will do just fine," he said patting the man on the leg.




"You know, if you surrendered now, I'm sure I could convince our Guardian Angel not to tear you to pieces." Smith's eyes glared at the officer, but his tone was playful.  The Officer in turn ignored him, but Smith could see the fear and anger ripple through him.

"Your belief in such tales is disgusting.  Tell me, Colonel, if this Guardian Angel of yours is so real, then why doesn't he just kill us all now?" the Officer sneered. 

Smith let his hands fall from behind his head, instead resting his chin on them.  He then shrugged and smirked.  "Maybe he likes to play with his food before he eats it."




Lieutenant Templeton Peck checked the wire again to make sure the two soldiers wouldn't be leaving their current position around the tree anytime soon.  Picking up his gun, he quietly headed back the way he'd come.  He stopped again hearing movement near by.  Looking down, he saw a small green ball roll to a stop a few feet away.  Immediately he turned, but only made it a few steps before the ball exploded.




Some of the American soldiers cringed, others jumped at the sound of the explosion.  The Colonel closed his eyes; quickly praying their only hope hadn't just been blown to pieces. 

The Vietcong Officer looked to the Colonel, a spark of victory in his eyes.  Hearing someone come crashing through the jungle, the Officer stood straight again and waited with as much authority as he could muster.  A Vietcong emerged triumphantly spitting out a long stream of foreign words.  The Officer nodded throughout the report, the sparkle in his eye growing to un-imaginable heights of over-confidence. 

"What's he saying, Colonel?" BA whispered to the man next to him.  Hannibal didn't even bother answering as the Vietcong soldier held out his hand.  A small gold chain with a tiny cross on it dangled from his fingers, shimmering in the setting sun.  BA turned his head and ground his teeth together, the answer obviously clear now. 

A wicked grin replaced the confident smirk on the Officer's face as he watched the gold chain fall into his hand.  Turning it over in his fingers, he casually waltzed over to the Colonel.  Sitting on his heels, the Officer held his hand out and let the chain dangle before the Colonel's eyes.  Hannibal glared past the chain to the face he so dearly wanted to smash with his fists. 

"So tell me Colonel." The Officer's voice was soft, but taunting. "How is it that a being of such power and invincibility was so easily diminished by someone like me?"

Smith stared at the man's knees, using a restraining control he didn't even know existed.  His expression, stoic and unmoving.  The Officer gave a small, quiet laugh.

"You want to know what I think?" he leaned in closer lowering his voice even more.  "I think he was not your Guardian Angel after all.  I think he was a weak, spoiled little boy, who probably shit his pants and wept like a baby, before he was put out of his misery." 

This time the Colonel let his eyes trail to the man's face.  Deep hatred, glaring as the Officer re-hooked the chain and cross around his own neck.  After a pause the man stood and began calling out orders.  The Vietcong soldiers obeyed, quickly rounding the Americans to their feet and pushing them forward.  Smith watched the scene cautiously, making sure everyone was leaving.  A glance to his right told him that wasn't going to happen. 

The beedy-eyed Officer strolled over to Captain Murdock and stopped him from following the others.  He waited until the others were a good distance away and then turned back to the Captain.  He eyed the man carefully, noticing he hadn't moved at all, other than to stand up.  The Officer nudged the Captain with his sidearm. 

The man didn't even blink.  He simply stared into nothingness. 

Taking a step forward the Officer whispered into Murdock's ear.  "You miss your friend don't you?"  He smiled evilly.  "You must have been very close."  He stepped around the catatonic Captain to his other side and cocked his gun.  "If there were anything left of him, I'd cut out his heart and feed it to my dogs."

The Officer's smile quickly died as the man before him suddenly awoke with what started as a deep growl, and climaxed in a howling cry that reverberated throughout the jungle.  Stunned, the Officer wasn't ready for the American to suddenly lunge at him.  They both went down, disappearing beneath the underbrush that shook violently from their struggles.  The Captain lashed out with everything he had, kicking, biting, punching, smacking, and pulling hair.  He would've laughed at how stupid he must look if it hadn't been for the desperation and anger pulsing through him. 

The Officer struggled to reach his gun that he'd dropped when the man attacked him.  The American however had another agenda for him, biting him in the arm.  The Officer kicked him in the gut, but was met with a swift elbow to his jaw.  Momentarily stunned, the Officer was pinned down by the American. 

The Captain didn't hesitate to throw a few more fists to the man's face.  A sudden pain shot through his arm.  He pulled back, only to be met with a foot to his stomach.  He fell backwards to the ground.  Finally getting his wits about him, he saw the Officer with a knife in his hand, scrambling for the gun.  The Captain quickly got to his feet to stop him, but was stopped when the Officer turned, gun in hand. 

Everything ceased to exist around the Captain except for the black barrel he was staring down.  The invading green of the jungle disappeared from sight to be replaced with a cold, dark, sleek tunnel that would spit out his angel of death.  The deafening silence that engulfed him was violated by the crisp click of his fate. 

"Goodbye Captain."

The loud shot reverberated through the jungle.  The birds escaped the tree canopies in fear and the bugs ceased their singing.  The only sound that could be heard was the small gasp that escaped the Captain's lips as he watched the Vietcong officer fall backwards to the ground, a small, black hole now between his eyes.

 Murdock stood motionless for a moment, taking in the fact that he wasn't dead.  He suddenly remembered that living people were supposed to breathe.  Taking in a huge gasp, he fed his starving lungs.  His legs gave out and he fell to his knees, blood rushing to his head.  He ran his hand over his chest to make sure there weren't any holes he hadn't noticed or felt before and forced himself to breathe.  He could feel his body shaking.  No…wait, he thought.  That's not me shaking.  He forced himself to focus and could feel his shoulders being squeezed.  His eyes trailed up into another's.

"Murdock?" the voice sounded worried and unsure…and somewhat familiar.

The Captain focused harder, and slowly the cloud lifted from his mind.  He stared hard into the familiar blue eyes, an overwhelming sense of relief and happiness flooding his being. 

"Murdock?  Are you okay?" 

The Captain suddenly lunged forward, grasping the man into a tight embrace and holding on for dear life. 

"Um… Murdock?  You're a… you're kinda strangling me."

The Captain got his wits about him and quickly released the man.  He smiled disbelievingly, "God, Face… I… I thought you were… you know." 

"In little bitty pieces spread throughout the jungle for the nasty, carnivorous bugs and birds to feast on?" 

The Captains grin quickly fell into a grimace.  "Ugh."

"My thoughts exactly."  The Lieutenant nodded in agreement.  "It knocked me out, but all I got were scratches."  The two men were silent for a moment. 

Captain Murdock then looked down at the corpse of the Vietcong officer, blood now slowly trickling down from the hole in his forehead.  "That was a…" he nodded, gesturing to the body,  "…good shot.  Thanks," he finally concluded. 

The Lieutenant glanced at the corpse.  "Yeah, well."  They both paused, looking at the dead Vietcong lying around them.  "Where's the others?" 

The Captain's eyes widened as he remembered.  He reached down and picked up the sidearm the Officer had dropped.  "Enemy unit moved them out…that way." He pointed.  They both turned to move that way when a small muffled noise invaded the air.  They stopped, looked at each other, and then moved towards one of the bodies.  The Captain leaned down and rummaged through the dead man's pockets.  His brow furrowed as he pulled out a walkie-talkie.  He glanced up at Face who shrugged his shoulders. 

Captain Murdock cautiously pushed in the call button and brought it to his lips.  "Um… hello?"  They both started as the voice came through again, this time clear as a bell. 

  "Murdock?!"  The voice said with disbelief.  The Colonel's chuckle rang through.  "The Sergeant and I were almost certain that was you that ate that gunshot we heard earlier."

The Captain smiled. "No sir, I'm alive and in the flesh." He glanced at his friend.  "And you'll never believe who's standing right next to me." 

They could almost hear the Colonel's smile grow on the other end.  "Who?"

The Captain held the walkie in air.  "Hey Colonel." The Lieutenant responded. 

The two men chuckled slightly as they heard another familiar gruff voice in the background sounding quite giddy.  "It's Faceman.  Hey!  That's Faceman!  He's alive.  They's both alive."

The Lieutenant and the Captain shared a look of amusement.  Then the voice suddenly changed to its normal growl.

"Faceman shot me man.  He shot me in the arm!  I'm gonna kill im!  You here me, man?  I'm gonna knock your head off your shoulders!"

The Lieutenant cringed at the vision of the Sergeant knocking his head off.  This only caused the Captain's smile to enlarge. 

"Sergeant."  The Colonel reprimanded.  "We're lucky we got him back with his wings still intact."  They heard another growl.  "Okay you can still knock his head off, but at least wait until we get back.  That's an order."

The Lieutenant rolled his eyes, groaned, and mouthed 'I am so dead.' 

"It's good to hear your voice Lieutenant." 

Peck grinned at the sincerity he heard in the voice.  "Well there's a first time for everything."

"Right. Where you at Captain?"

"Same place before you all got moved out."

"Good.  We're not too far from you two.  Stay there and we'll meet up with you.  We're tying up the rest of these cowards as we speak."  

"Roger that, Colonel.  Waiting as ordered."  The Captain let go of the button and then looked up to his friend.  Then they both glanced around them again.  "Well you certainly made a mess of things," the Captain said, tossing the walkie-talkie onto the body he borrowed it from.        

 "Yeah.  Sorry bout that." Peck replied, his voice hinting at sarcasm as he too looked at the bodies. 

Murdock then started rummaging through the rest of the pockets, pulling out ammo.  Still kneeling on the ground, he started loading one of the dropped rifles.  "Well I wouldn't worry too much about the Sergeant.  You know how he is, always skulking around like this huge giant with that mean ole scowl on his face.  Always gruntin and spit-"

Suddenly a sharp bang sounded through the air.  The Captains head shot up at the sound.  His heart leapt into his throat as the Lieutenant's eyes stared off into the distance, his lips slightly parted. 

"Murdock-" the Lieutenant gasped.  The Captain leapt up to grasp his friend as he fell forward. 

As carefully as he could, the Captain laid the man down but ended up stumbling over vines, sending them both clumsily crashing to the ground.  He cursed as he tried to right himself to a sitting position, the Lieutenant awkwardly on his lap.  Pulling his hand out from underneath the Peck's back, he found it dripping with blood.  "Shi-" he breathed hysterically.

The man beneath him choked on a cough and lifted his back from the strain.  "Murdo-" He didn't finish it however as the pain in his back seemed to steal the air from his lungs. 

"It's okay!  It's okay!"  The Captain pressed his hand firmly against the wound, feeling the warm blood seep through his fingers.  He frantically looked around him for something, anything that could be of any help.  The walkie-talkie he'd only used moments before was laid, forgotten, five feet too far from his reach.  He glanced at the disgusting greenery before him, only hoping the sniper had had his fun and left.  Another choking cough followed by gasping and wheezing diverted his attention back to the comrade in his arms.  A fellow soldier who he'd come to like these past few weeks and who saved his life not once, but four times in a matter of an hour was suddenly being taken away from him.

"I can't…can't breath."

"I know.  It's okay."  Murdock frantically whipped his head around.  "Colonel!!"  His voice cracked with hysterics.  The Captain watched as the man below him visibly paled by the second, his eyes glazing over.  "It's okay, buddy.  Just stay with me alright?"  He patted his friends arm more for his own reassurance than for his friend's.

"Guess I lost…" he took in a wheezing breath, "my wings."  The Lieutenant managed a small smile.

The Captain smoothed back the man's wet hair.  "Don't worry.  We'll find them." Captain Murdock knew Peck was in shock as he contemplated what he'd said.  The Lieutenant squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of sharp pain traveled through his body, quiet whimpers escaping. 

"Colonel!!!"  The Captain let out a loud breath as he heard the foliage rustling in the distance, coming closer and closer.  His shoulders sagged in relief as the Colonel's familiar form emerged.

  Smith immediately took in the scene before him and yelled back for a med kit.  He kneeled down next to the Captain and looked at the dirty, tear-streaked face quickly losing the consciousness battle.  "Sniper," the Captain said as he carefully turned the Lieutenant enough so the Colonel could get a good look at the damage.

"Davis.  Servizzi.  Perimeter check.  Oh God."  Smith muttered as he looked at the hole.  He turned and accepted the morphine injection and made quick use of it.  He threw it off to the side and then took the large gauze pads being offered.  "ETA, Sergeant."  He demanded without taking his eyes from the task at hand.

The Sergeant checked his watch and then kneeled next to them.  "Fifteen minutes."  The Colonel nodded and then ripped strips of duct tape to keep the mound of gauze in place.   


"Radioed in a pickup Captain.  It'll land out in that field we passed not too far back before we got into this mess."  The Colonel finished strapping down the last piece of duct tape.  "How ya doin, kid?" he asked as the Captain gently rolled the Lieutenant back down. 

Peck's eyelids were heavy with morphine and exhaustion and he was still wheezing.  "I'm not a kid." He smiled.  "I'm nineteen…almost legal."

Smith smiled and humored the doped up Lieutenant, "Really?"

"Actually Father O'Malley thinks… I'm really two years younger than…than they originally thought.  But he promised not to tell."  Peck let out a quiet giggle.

The Colonel's smile fell as he took in what his Lieutenant was saying about his true age.  The Captain swallowed hard seeing the anger beginning to bubble in the Colonel's eyes.  "Uh… it's probably the morphine talking." He lied, nodding in confirmation.

Smith's eyes flicked to him.  Captain Murdock licked his lips, gave a small, insecure smile, and shrugged.  "Does crazy things to people."  The Captain gave a pathetic laugh.

Smith's anger turned as he heard rumbling in the distance.  "That's us, guys.  Let's move out.  Marks!  Get Davis and Servizzi.  Sergeant."  The Colonel stood, leaving the Sergeant to pick up the limp Lieutenant.  The Captain also stood, wiping his hands on his pants.  "Alright lets go," Smith ordered.  They started making their way back through the foliage when Captain Murdock stopped suddenly and turned back.  The Colonel waved the others on, but turned to watch as the Captain stopped in front of one of the Vietcong bodies, leaned down and ripped something from the dead man's neck.

Captain Murdock jogged back towards the Colonel, stuffing the object in his shirt pocket.  "Almost forgot something."

The Colonel gave him a pat on the back and together they ran to the pickup point.




Peck shifted uncomfortably in the small bed.  He still felt exhausted after four days' rest.  That and he'd just been reamed by the Colonel about him lying on his age.  He'd argued that it wasn't a sure, hard fact that he was only seventeen; that it was quite possible he was even two years older than they'd originally thought him to be.  The Colonel was still pissed, but it was the effort that counted.  In any respect, he was still tired and wanted nothing more than to just drop dead asleep.  However that didn't seem to be a likely happening as Peck heard a nurse coming towards him. 

The Lieutenant silently cursed the woman who would most likely poke him some more and jostle him around.  The woman came to a stop at his bed and quietly called out his name.  "Lieutenant Peck."  She put a hand on his arm and waited for him to open his eyes.  Reluctantly, he came out of his pretend sleep and gave her an innocent, tired look.  She smiled tilted her head.  "Someone left something for you at the front desk.  I thought I'd bring it by when you woke up." 

Peck felt a small box being placed in his hand.  The nurse smiled sweetly and then walked off.  The Lieutenant watched her go and then turned his attention to the small brown box in his hand.  He turned it over; finally he let his curiosity get the best of him and slowly lifted the lid.  Inside neatly laid his gold cross.  Underneath the chain lay a small pin in the shape of two wings.  The kind of pin a child would get after flying on an airplane.  Beneath the pin was a small scribbled message.


"Found your wings.  Had a pin attached to the back of them so you'd wouldn't lose them again.



Peck smiled sincerely as his fingers ran over the small wings.  Closing the box, he gripped it tightly in his hands and closed his eyes.  He let out a deep sigh and smiled thinking of all the things he was going to do on his time off once he got out of the MASH unit.  His thoughts were rudely interrupted though by a deep voice, growling loudly from the nurse's station.

"Where is he?!  He shot me!  The fool shot me in the arm!!" 

Peck groaned and pulled the sheets over his head as he heard nurses joining the shouting fest to stop the big burly man.

"I am so dead."



                                                        The End






Guardian Angel by Maygin



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