The Response to the Nighthawk Challenge

by Javelin-Nighthawk Commando

Disclaimer: The A-Team and its members are the creations of Stephen J
 Cannell and Frank Lupo.  They belong to Universal and Stephen J Cannell
 Productions.  No copyright infringement intended.  If coincidence occurs
 it is just that: coincidence.

                         The Return of the Jammies
         by Javelin

         After checking the perimeter, carefully inspecting the sacred
 jammies-chamber for clues, washing and drying their hair, and applying
 face cleanser, all the TEMPtresses gathered in the great hall to
 formulate a plan for retrieving the jammies from the Fighting Nighthawk
 Commandos. They had quite rudely busted in earlier in the evening, stolen
 them, and sneaked away Murdock [Scott] free earlier in the evening.
         "We can’t let them get away with this, sir," Javelin’s voice
 TEMPorarily rising above the rest, "it would undermine our position."
         "It’s not fair," another voice called.
         "I say we go get ‘em back," Captain Wildchild called from her
         "I’m with you," Serenity said, loudly.  Various, but similar,
 comments rose from the great table and the TEMPtresses decided to move
 against the Nighthawks.
         "Vengeance will be ours!" another called.
         "Ladies, ladies, ladies . . ." THE bossMAN tried to soothe the
 mob, concerned at the volatility of his fans, "it’s only a coup.  We can
 just go to the V.A. and get them back . . ." He looked around at the
 group, who would threaten someone’s life if that someone described him as
 aging - he didn’t really think it was that big a deal, but he liked the
         "Okay, so what’s the plan, BossMAN?" Javelin asked Face, bluntly.
  All eyes in the room were on him - he had to do something.
         "Well . . ." he started then paused, "you see, I’m not really
 used to doing the plan part - that’s Hannibal’s department."  He’d
 already called Hannibal and only gotten the machine, besides this was
 between Murdock and himself, and their fans.  He began to notice some
 very concerned looks that then began to change into something MUCH more
 dangerous.  "But, I do have an idea," he said, finally.  "We’ll need to
 find out when Murdock has his next session with Dr. Richter - he’ll need
 ALL the Nighthawks to keep Richter convinced he’s nuts . . ."
         "All that shrink needs to see is the fiasco we had here tonight,"
 Javelin said conTEMPtuously.  Face raised his eyebrows at her in a gentle
 reprimand - partially for interrupting, but mostly because Murdock was
 his friend.  She looked at the floor briefly, and apologized.
         "So while he’s in session, we go into his room . . ." he began
         "a.k.a. Nighthawk H.Q.," Serenity said under her breath.
         "Murdock will leave them for me somewhere where we can find them.
  This is just a game to him, and it might be good for him if we play
 along," he finished.
         "How are we going to get in?" Captain Wildchild asked.
         "How about the kidney thing?" someone supplied.
         "How many kidneys does that guy have?  How many have we already
 ‘taken’?" another asked.
         "More than he ever had," Serenity answered.
         "How about we say he’s donating a lung?" Javelin proposed, having
 missed the latest SCAM report.
         "Done it," Captain Wildchild answered.
         Determined not to give up, Javelin began to list off other
 non-essential body parts, to which each was replied the same.  "Heck, I
 don’t know - how about his bladder?" she finally said, exasperatedly.
 Everyone was quiet a moment.
         "Uh . . . think about what you just said, Jav," Serenity
 answered, looking at her friend, surprised.  Javelin put her hand to her
 head, and crashed back into her seat.
         "Is she all right?" another asked in a concerned voice and
 pointing at her head.
         "Yeah.  We’ve had her checked out.  I think it’s just hold over
 from her time as an undercover TEMP agent with the Nighthawks," Serenity
         "I think I’m losing my grip on reality," Javelin whined.
         "As long as you can whine and say those words, you haven’t,
 dear," another, kind voice called to her.
         "I know.  We’ll be scientists, nurses, and officers from the
 Pentagon with a warrant to search Murdock’s room," Captain Wildchild
 proposed, calmly.
         "And we’ll need a distraction.  Serenity, how about you be the
 nurse - you’ll do that part really well." Javelin started doling out
 responsibilities.  Face thought about this.  It was obvious that she had
 spent some time under Hannibal’s tutelage, but that last comment, added
 to encourage Serenity to follow, was obviously his influence.  "Captain
 Wildchild, you wanna wear the lab coat? - That leaves the officer, which
 I’m sure is best left to you, sir," she said turning to Face, and then
 continued before she could be interrupted, "and I, will take the
 despicable job of being the lawyer."  Face had to laugh to himself, she
 was learning.  She’d even made it look like she was taking the last job
 that she’d wanted, even though it had been EXACTLY what she’d desired -
 he could see it in her eyes.
         /It’s that new suit of hers she wants to wear,/ Face thought to
 himself, rightly.
         "Hey!  What about us?" the others asked, eager to help.
         "You guys get to be the distraction," she started.  "Just in case
 Murdock and his . . . commandos," she glanced at Face, "decide to have
 recess early.  How’s this sound?"
         "Sounds reasonable," Serenity said.
         "I say we do it," Captain Wildchild added.
         "I guess we better get started getting the props together,"
 someone said.
         "It’s 1:45 a.m., we also should get some rest," Serenity added.
         "You know, last I heard.  The nurse on duty between one and four
 a.m. was guy," another TEMPtress, Sharon, spoke up, just as they were
 standing to leave the great table.  She watched as her unspoken idea hit
 the rest all at once.  "I think I’ll go down and visit," she said in a
 sultry voice and wagged her eyebrows.  "I’ll have that psyche schedule
 like that," she snapped her fingers and turned and walked out of the
 room.  Face watched her go: her short red hair bouncing with each step,
 the gentle sway of her hips.  As she moved out of his sight, he snapped
 back to the present.  Javelin was talking to him.
         ". . . and that’s it.  In and out.  Piece of cake.  We’ll have
 those jammies back in no time," she concluded.
         "Hmmm?" he looked at her perplexed, "oh, yeah," he added covering
 his confusion.  "Are . . . uh . . .you all really serious about this?" he
 asked, neutrally.
         "Yup," Javelin answered plainly and went to get her new suit
 ready and find her glasses and brief case.
         "Absolutely," Captain Wildchild added, and walked on past to get
 her costume together.
         "No M-16’s this time, Boss, but . . .this is something that just
 has to be done," Serenity added further.  She smiled at him, and then
 followed the others, dedicated to the task at hand.
         He waited a moment, pondering the recent discussion, before he
 decided that he’d better call his date and tell her that he would not
 make it this evening - business had called him away.

         At precisely 14:17, Face dressed in an Army uniform, Serenity
 dressed in her nurses uniform, Captain Wildchild in her dress and lab
 coat, and Javelin in her new suit with glasses and briefcase, strode into
 the lobby in the Veteran’s Administration Psyche ward.  Face approached
 the stout nurse on duty.
         "I’m Major Harwick from the Pentagon - Department of the
 Interior, Security division," he started.  "I have a warrant," he flashed
 a formal looking document, "to search a . . . Mr. Murdock’s room."
         "What are you looking for?  And who are . . . these . . .
 people?" she glared at the TEMPtresses in accompaniment.
         Without missing a beat Face answered, somewhat harshly, "WHAT we
 are looking for is no concern of yours - unless of course, YOU have been
 in conspiracy WITH Mr. Murdock in obtaining top secret and highly
 experimental  . . . items, quite valuable in the BLACK market."  He
 paused, looking at his confederates and turned back to the nurse, "THESE
 are my associates: Miss Warren," he pointed to Captain Wildchild, "and
 Miss Epson," pointing to Serenity, "they are involved in the research
 regarding the missing . . . items."  Javelin stepped up to the desk, and
 spoke more kindly to the woman.
         "And," she paused shooting an untrusting look at Face, "I was
 contacted anonymously on behalf of Mr. Murdock."  She offered her hand to
 shake the nurse’s, "I’m Elizabeth Charlamagne.  I’m an attorney with
 Carr, Fargo, & Myles out of Detroit."  She looked at Face, but still
 talking to the nurse, "I’m here to be sure that Mr. Murdock’s rights are
 . . . OBSERVED," she finished pointedly.
         Skeptically, the nurse looked them over, then relented, "Fine.
 His room is right down the hall."  She pointed in the right direction.
         "The key?" he asked.
         "Joey!" she called loudly, "Open up Murdock’s room for these . .
 . people."
         "Thank you for your . . . assistance," Face added in an annoyed
 tone and they turned and purposefully strode down the hall to Murdock’s
 room.  The aid quickly left them to their search, wanting to have little
 as possible to do with the situation.
         When it was just the four of them, Javelin turned to Face, "So,
 how’d I do?" she asked, eager to please.
         "Pretty good," he replied as he started looking for the jammies.
 She smiled, very pleased that he felt that she’d done well.  They split
 up and began to search the room low and high.  But there didn’t seem to
 be any sign of the jammies anywhere.
         "We’re running out of time, guys.  Murdock and his commandos will
 be back in a few minutes," Captain Wildchild said, and sighed in
         "They’ve gotta be here somewhere," Serenity spoke up.
         "There’s just too much STUFF here for us to go through.  We’re
 gonna have to have that distraction and SOON," Javelin said, inspecting
 the inside of the arcade game.
         A few minutes later Serenity hollered, "I found ‘em!  They were
 wadded up inside a box of golf balls."
         "’Golf balls?’," Captain Wildchild asked, incredulously.
         "Of course, I should have known," Face said, a bit put out with
 himself for not remembering.
         "How would you have known, Boss?" Captain Wildchild asked.
         "I got the jammies on the mission that Murdock founded his ‘Golf
 Ball Liberation Army.’  That’s all he talked about the whole time," he
         "Thaaaaaat’s right, Faceguy," Murdock answered casually.  Face
 whirled at his name to find Murdock smiling broadly.  He ambled into the
 room flanked on either side by Nighthawks - all TEMPerarily visible and
 glaring at the TEMPtresses, except for Thunderbird and Frankie.
 Thunderbird glanced around, quite pleased and amused with the fact that
 the TEMPs were outnumbered AND cornered.  Frankie just stood staring
 dumbly at the lovely women in front of him.  He had an idea - a really
 stupid idea, but this IS Frankie we’re talking about here.
         "I’ll have those jammies back in no time," Frankie whispered to
 Thunderbird, "The old Santana charm never fails."  Thunderbird, still
 more than a little peeved about having to walk home, tried to grab
 Frankie, but the greasy little guy slipped out of her grip.
         "Heeelllloo, ladies," he started, atTEMPting to be charming and
 failing miserably.  Range Ryder pulled Maydock back before she could get
 her hands on the little guy.
         "Shhhh," she whispered to her, "maybe he’ll annoy them enough
 that they’ll just give us the jammies back."
         "Not likely," Thunderbird entered the conversation, "I know some
 of these people pretty well.  They’re a pretty stubborn bunch.
 Surprising, but true."
         "If you all will just hand over the jammies, it would be really
 nice of you.  Maybe we could, like do, lunch or something," he wagged his
         "Just what exactly are you implicating?" Captain Wildchild, asked
 harshly, one hand on her hip and in the other she held the retrieved
         "And just who do you think you are to be propositioning us?"
 Serenity asked, abhorred.
         "Euccchhhhh!" Javelin added.
         "Ummm, Frankie, I really don’t think that this is the way to be
 speaking to these ladies," Face started in a helpful tone.  He placed his
 hand on the other man’s shoulder, and started to pace with him between
 the HAWKs and the TEMPs, as he reached the end of the room, he briefly
 looked at Javelin and nodded, she replied in kind.  All other eyes were
 on the two men.
         "You see Frankie," turning to face him, "they are a different
 breed entirely.  If you don’t talk to them just right and you aren’t . .
 . well, you get the idea.  They can be very TEMPermental  . . ." he
 glanced to Javelin.  She had her briefcase.  She’d surreptitiously picked
 it up while Face rambled on about how and how not to speak to
 TEMPtresses.  She pulled out the mobile phone and before anyone could
 stop her she dialed and began to speak.  Sparks, Range Ryder, and Maydock
 all lunged toward her, but Serenity and Captain Wildchild stepped between
 them and her, but not before tossing the jammies to Face.  It bought
 enough time to send the message: "TEMPlar 1."
         Sparks grabbed the phone after managing to push between the other
 two.  "Give me that!" she said, snatching the phone away.  Before anyone
 else could move, the TEMPtresses were caught, held fast in the tight
 grips of the Nighthawks.
         "What did you say? And who did you call?" Thunderbird walked up
 to Javelin, who merely beamed with delight and mischief in response.
         "I heard her say, ‘TEMPlar?’ Or something like that?" Maydock
         "TEMPlar?  Whatz’at?" Frankie asked, still stunned.
         "It was a military group of knights formed in Jerusalem during
 the crusades," Murdock answered softly, he was thinking.  ‘What do they
 have up their conniving little sleeves?’ he thought to himself.  He
 strode toward Face, wanting to enjoy the moment, before the inevitable
 chaos erupted.  He took the jammies from his friend’s shoulder and
 inspected them.
         "You wrinkled them," Face informed him, teasingly.
         "Well, they didn’t want to go in the golf ball box.  By the way,
 the pants are about three inches too short for me," Murdock handed them
 back to Face, much to the chagrin of his associates.  Face sniffed them
         "You wore them?" he asked, a bit annoyed now.  "Murdock, they
 smell like they’ve been in the laundry bin for weeks."
         Thunderbird turned sharply on her heel and strode toward Frankie,
 a very deadly glint in her eyes, "You little . . . little . . . little
 slimy nozzle!  They got a message out."
         "Hey.  It’s not my fault.  What do you want me to do about it?"
 he started, backing away from her, and pleading.
         "Nothing," she replied low and dangerously, and punctuated it
 with a hard right cross that sent Frankie reeling.  "I’ve been wanting to
 do that for almost a week now," she said, pleased.  Face merely watched
 as Frankie quickly approached the wall and then the floor.
         Serenity, Captain Wildchild, and Javelin snickered, as did most
 of the Nighthawks.  About this time, an alarm sounded.
         "It’s the rest of the TEMPs - they’re here to get their
 conspirators out," Tree announced.
         "Everybody, get invisible," Thunderbird yelled.  Immediately,
 mumblings of ‘white paper, white paper’ filled the room.  Face tossed the
 jammies to Javelin while the Nighthawks began to vanish; she promptly
 stuffed them into the briefcase and locked it.  The TEMPtresses moved
 together, hearing the Nighthawks beginning to encircle them.  They stood
 back to back, ready for the inevitable attack to come.  Then a strong,
 invisible hand tried to jerk the briefcase from Javelin’s hand; with her
 hand firmly on the handle, she would not release it.  Soon Face and his
 TEMPtresses were grappling with invisible foes.  Just when it looked like
 they might lose, women, clad in boots and fatigues stormed into the room
 carrying water guns.
         Taking careful, but guessing aim, they began to spray the room
 with blue paint.  Nighthawks began to be somewhat seen as floating
 splotches of blue paint.
         "Let’s get out of here.  We have what we came for," Serenity
 yelled, expertly dodging another splotch.  Javelin ran for the door,
 evading her pursuers, but just as she was about to dash through, her jaw
 met with something hard.  She fell back onto the floor, stunned.
         "How many fingers am I holding up?" someone asked her.  All she
 could see was the ceiling and blue splotches that were the Nighthawks.
         "Blue," she replied truthfully.
         "Blue?  Oh, drat!  No wonder, I’m still invisible," the voice
 said.  Javelin looked up to see Thunderbird re-materializing over her.
 "You okay, kid?" she asked.  "You walked right into it."
         Javelin sat up enough to rest on her left elbow and rub her jaw.
 "Yeah, fine."  Then, realizing the situation, she quickly got up and
 snatched up the briefcase and headed out, "I gotta go," she told her
 friend.  Just then a blue splotch ran by and grabbed the case out of her
 grip and ran out the door.
         "Follow that blue spot with the briefcase - they have the
 jammies!" she yelled to the other TEMPtresses.  She ran out of the room
 full tilt, even in her high heels.  Shrugging off their invisible, but
 now somewhat seen, opponents, the TEMPtresses followed Javelin who was
 after the jammies, and the paint streaked Nighthawks were immediately in
         "Stop NOW!" a loud voice attracted the attention of the attendant
 that had just come on duty.  She turned just in time to see a blue spot
 run by, a briefcase floating out in front of it, followed by: a woman in
 a suit; another woman in a nurse’s uniform; another in a lab coat; and a
 man in an Army uniform.  Not far behind followed several more women, all
 clad in fatigues, and behind them, charged more floating blue splotches.
 A few seconds later the poor woman crashed to the floor from fear of
 catching some kind of psychosis.
         "Got it!" another yelled.  This time as they passed back by the
 station, unseen, the briefcase was being carried by one of the women in
 the fatigues.  All the visibles crowded into the elevator, just before
 the first blue spot could sneak in.  They dashed out of the building and
 somehow managed to pile all of them into the ‘vette and were soon safe
 and sound at TEMP headquarters.
         That evening, all of the TEMPtresses and Face, sat in the living
 room all reclining in their chairs.  Some of the TEMPtresses were
 listening to music on their Walkmans, some were reading the evening
 paper.  There was a particularly amusing story about how the whole Psyche
 ward at the local V.A.  hospital had had a collective hallucination about
 floating paint smudges.  Face looked up at his crew, proud.  He looked
 around as all seemed to be relaxing.  Then he looked at Javelin; he
 couldn’t tell what she was doing.
         "Javelin," he started, "what are you doing?"
         "Homework," she replied, without looking up from her sketches and
         "Ahhh . . .," he replied.  "Ummm, shouldn’t you have been doing
 that instead of going on our little escapade?  Hmmm?  Your studies are
 most important."
         "Nah, I wouldn’t have missed that for the world," she started
 looking up at him, a glint in her eye.  "Besides," she added, turning
 back to her book and calculator, "it’s not due for a week anyway.  I just
 thought I’d get ahead."
         Just then, Face saw something pink in the mirror across from him.
  It was Billy with the jammies.  Again.  As the dog dashed by his chair,
 he grabbed them.  "Unh, unh, uhh, not this time," he said.  Surprised,
 the dog released the prize without a fight and dashed, whining out of
         Face laughed out loud.  Soon, after realizing what had just
 occurred, so did the rest.  Everyone laughed jovially. Face put the
 jammies in a safe place.  Then, before long, everyone went to bed, tired
 from their adventures.  And EVERYONE lived happily ever after.

                                 THE END

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