by Kelly

Cavallon's Gold

 APR 1998  K.Adams

"Problem, captain?"  Hannibal asks with mild concern, as he grips the 
pilot's seat to steady himself.   The old Army cargo plane bounces and 
lurches, fighting to stay airborne.  Like a drowning man fights to stay 
on the surface, knowing it's only a matter of time before he sinks.

"Well Colonel, it appears..." Murdock begins as he strains at the 
controls.  "That this aircraft has decided not to fly anymore."

"Any possibility of convincing it otherwise, captain?"  Hannibal asks.  
His easy manner in the face of impending disaster, causes Face to break 
into a grin, which quickly dissolves as the plane bucks and sputters.  
They had borrowed, in old A-Team fashion, the aircraft from a small 
American base in Panama, and were trying to make their way home when 
they all heard the loud bang.  A sound you don't want to hear at 35,000 

"I don't think so, colonel,"  Murdock replies, slamming his fist into 
the console trying to make it obey.  Face turns his attention to the 
dials spinning wildly in the console, trying to ignore the plane's 
proximity to the trees.  Murdock prides himself on being able to fly 
anything with wings, and hated when the laws of gravity interfered with 
that ability.  A loud, angry voice rises up from behind Hannibal, and a 
huge dark shape fills the doorway.  "Welcome to the party big guy!"  
Murdock turns just enough to flash the sourly black man a wide 
infectious grin.  Faceman slumps down into the co-pilot's high-back 
chair, his knees resting on the console.  He had hoped BA would have 
stayed sedated until they reached the US.  Face can feel the big man's 
dark, angry eyes glaring down at him.  A thin smile creases his face as 
he it occurs to him that if the plane crashes he might not have to face 
BA's wrath. 

BA snarls as he braces himself in the doorway, and looks out the 
viewport.  "You keep this plane in the air, fool!"  

Murdock rolls his eyes at BA's ludicrous demand. "Now, BA, I thought you 
hated flying?"  Face asks.  BA grabs the back of  Face's seat as the 
plane drops several feet, causing everyone to catch their breath.  

"I hate crashin' more.  I don't wanna die in no plane!"  BA howls.

Keeping his eyes on the rising landscape, Murdock tries to pacify the 
big guy.  "BA, you should feel honored.  Many famous people have met 
their maker in planes; Patsy Kline, Glenn Miller, Jo Jo Bean."  Face 
wrinkles his brow in puzzlement as he asks, "Who was Jo Jo Bean?"

Still fighting to keep the airplane airborne Murdock replies, "Oh, he 
was this buddy of mine, who would have been famous if he hadn't died in 
a plane crash."  Hannibal suppresses a smile as he glances towards a 
distressed BA, who's not amused by Murdock's glib remark, and probably 
wishes he had remained sedated.

Hannibal turns his attention to Murdock and asks, "Do you know where we 
are, Murdock?"

Murdock peers down into the dense jungle.  "Ah, I think somewhere over 
Costa Rica.  I think.  With no place to land."  A strange oscillating 
whine fills the cockpit bringing a worried look to Murdock's already 
distressed face.  He curses and flicks switches across the console.  
"Colonel, I think you all need to find a comfy little spot and hold on."   
Hannibal hears the seriousness in Murdock's voice and his normal 
good-natured smile evaporates. 

"Okay, captain do the best you can.  Try to land us someplace soft."  
Murdock snorts quietly as Hannibal staggers out the cockpit, followed by 
BA, both swaying like drunken soldiers down the aisle.

Murdock suddenly blurts out, cocking his thumb to the back. "You too, 

Face turns to confront two very sane and anxious brown eyes, something 
that looks very unnatural on Murdock's usually grinning visage.  "Maybe 
I can help, Murdock?" 

Murdock seems to contemplate his friend's request, until another of the 
four engines cuts out.  He curses. "Get in the back, lieutenant, that's 
an order!"  The gravity of the situation is brought home by Murdock's 
use of rank.  Face unfastens his belt and gets up.  He squeezes 
Murdock's shoulder re-assuredly and makes his way to the rear.  Murdock 
clenches his teeth, causing the muscles in his jaw to tense as he 
continues to fight the uncooperative and descending aircraft.  His eyes 
scan the horizon for any possible place to land.  All he can see is a 
carpet of tree tops and an occasional rocky knoll.  Someone once told 
him he could land an aircraft on a bandage.  At this point, he would 
settle for that bandage.  "C'mon baby hang in there.  Where's an airport 
when you need it?"  Murdock has crashed many times in the past, but 
everyone always walked away.  He wasn't about to ruin his record, as if 
to dismiss this fact the remaining engines suddenly conk out.  Murdock 
rolls his eyes skyward.  "Thanks.  I knew I should have stayed in the VA 
this time."  He continues to try and keep the nose of the plane up.  
"Everyone resume crash positions!" he shouts to the back.  The plane 
sinks slowly into the thick jungle canopy.   Murdock hoping nothing 
larger than a pebble lies hidden underneath the dense foliage. 


Hannibal, BA and Faceman have every confidence in Murdock's ability as a 
pilot.  It's the plane they have reservations about.  Face tries to 
recall the number of times Murdock  has pulled their asses out of any 
number of near fatal situations due to his extraordinary luck, and 
incredible flying expertise.  Face realizes they would not be here 
today, if not for the eccentric pilot.  The three tense at the sound of 
branches scraping the bottom of the plane.   Faceman looks up the aisle 
towards the cockpit, hoping their luck held out.  He glances back 
towards BA, who has become noticeably paler.  His eyes shut tight, his 
lips mouthing a silent prayer.  The plane shakes as it plows through 
dense jungle vines and over small trees.   The thunderous vibrations 
cause everyone to inhale, expecting the airplane to be ripped open like 
an over ripe watermelon at any minute.  Suddenly the three our thrown 
brutally and without warning against their harnesses, then slammed back 
into their seats.  It takes a moment for Face to realize the plane had 
come to a stop.  He slowly opens his eyes afraid of what he might see.  
He lets out the breath he had been holding, for how long he didn't know, 
but he felt a little light headed.
"You okay, kid?"  Hannibal inquires, as he inspects a broken cigar he 
pulled out of his shirt pocket.  Nothing ever seemed to distress the 
sagacious, white-haired leader, at least not that anyone could tell.

"Yeah.  I think so," Face replies, surprised at how calm his voice 
sounds compared to how much his hands shake trying to undo his belt.   
"Murdock pulled it out again.  Is BA okay?"
"Get me out of this thing.  I'm going to kill that crazy fool!"  BA 
yells as he struggles with his straps.  Face thinks to himself  that 
maybe it would be safer for him and Hannibal if BA remained strapped 
down, especially since they were the ones who tricked him onto the 

Hannibal glances back towards the agitated black man.  "He's okay," he 
answers smiling inwardly.  The plane had come to rest slightly askew.  
Several windows are smashed and Face can feel and almost taste the 
thick, humid jungle air.  He looks out to see cables and metal rods 
hanging down from where the wings use to reside.   The crash apparently 
silenced any nearby residence, for there was no sound except the ticking 
of the cooling engines.  Face makes his way up the aisle towards the 
cockpit as Hannibal helps BA free himself from his entanglement.  As 
Face nears the cockpit, his steps slow.  A cloud of apprehension engulfs 
him.  He peers down upon an unconscious Murdock slumped to one side.  A 
shiver goes down his spine, and he pales slightly at the sight of a tree 
branch which had pierced the viewport and neatly impaled the co-pilot's 
seat.   Face grasps the pilot's seat to steady himself, swallows, then 
turns his attention to Murdock just as Hannibal and BA enter.  Face 
places his hand on Murdock's shoulder.  "Hey, Murdock you all right?" 
Hannibal places a stopping hand on his arm.  

"Wait a minute, Face.  It might be better for him to remain 
unconscious."  Hannibal's somber face sends another chill down Face's 
spine, all the way to his toes.  He then notices the detached instrument 
panel lying across Murdock's left leg, effectively pinning the captain.  
Blood slowly oozing out, soaking his pant's leg.

"Oh, man! look what that crazy fool has gone and done now,"  BA 
mournfully remarks. Hannibal peers out the shattered viewport.  He 
notices a large tree, broken at the base, lying across the nose of the 

He quickly checks Murdock's pulse.  "BA, you're with me.  We have to 
move that..."  BA is halfway to the door before Hannibal even finishes 
the sentence.  Guilt stabs at him as he recalls all the nasty things he 
was thinking earlier about the psychotic pilot.  BA reaches the fallen 
tree with Hannibal close behind.  Both could feel their clothes already 
soaked through with sweat.  BA takes a moment to examine the situation.  
Then without saying a word climbs up onto the nose of the plane, which 
rocks slightly at the weight.  Bracing himself against the cockpit he 
places his feet on the tree trunk.  With a strength that always amazes 
Hannibal he forces the tree off the plane.  The exertion showing on his 
dark face and bulging muscles.  The nose rises slightly as the tree 
strikes the ground with a muffled thump.  BA quickly jumps down and 
races back inside.

BA and Hannibal enter the cockpit, to the sound of Murdock's pain filled 
moans, as he slowly regains consciousness.  "Easy, Murdock."  Face tries 
to comfort his friend.  Murdock looks down at his leg and grits his 
teeth.  "I seemed to have sprung a leak."  His eyes roll back as his 
head rest against the seat.  BA steps in between the seats.  Placing his 
hands under the console he begins to lift.  Sweat pours down his dark 
face with the effort.  Slowly the metal relents to BA's strength.   Face 
places Murdock's arm across his shoulders and eases him up.  BA steps 
back and takes the pilot's other arm.  "Don't worry, man, you'll be 
fine."  They take a couple steps and lay him carefully in the aisle.  
Face steps over Murdock and rushes to the rear to retrieve the first aid 
kit as Hannibal kneels alongside the pilot.  Hannibal glances sharply up 
at BA, before looking back at Murdock gently calling, "Captain.  Murdock 
can you hear me?"

Murdock's eyes flicker open and the hint of a smile crosses his features 
as he peers up into Hannibal's fatherly face.  Murdock clears his throat 
and winces.  "Yeah, if someone would please stop playing that harp 

"There ain't no harp music, fool.   You're hearin' things."  The 
familiar bantering between BA and Murdock eases some of the tension.  
Murdock grimaces, his expression a taut mask of controlled agony.  Face 
returns to find Hannibal already busy assessing the pilot's injuries.  
The sight brings a flash of memory from Vietnam-Hannibal risking his 
life to save his men.   No mission was to important or vital to risk the 
life of any of his men.  Every time he lost a man Hannibal seemed to 
lose a part of himself.   When the four of them became the A-Team, 
Hannibal vowed that none of them would die if he could help it.  He kept 
his promise then and now.  Murdock loudly sucks in his breath as 
Hannibal cuts away his pant's leg, bringing Face out of his reverie.

"Your leg is broken,"  Hannibal states emphatically, staring down as the 
contorted, bloody leg.  Murdock stares wildly up at the cockpit ceiling.  
BA and Face look down at a jagged wound slicing his leg open just above 
the knee, comprehending just how badly the crazy pilot is hurt.   "BA, 
you need to hold him down while I set it,"  Hannibal says. 

BA moves up to Murdock's shoulders and firmly takes hold of them.  
"Easy, man.  This is going to hurt."

"Thanks buddy, like I really want to hear that!"  Murdock answers rather 
sharply.  He takes a deep breath preparing himself for the inevitable 
pain to come.  Hannibal grasps Murdock's ankle giving him a plaintive 
smile, then pulls till he feels the bone slip back in place.  Murdock 
screams in pain, turning a deathly shade of white then mercifully passes 
out.  Face kneels down, concern throwing a shadow on his handsome 
features.  "How is he?"  he asks, handing Hannibal what medical supplies 
he could find.

"Not good.  His leg is torn up pretty bad."  Hannibal looks around.  "We 
need something to use as a splint?"  BA turns around and grabs one of 
the airplane seats, ripping it out of the floor.  He hands the metal 
legs to Hannibal who nods appreciatively.  "Nice, BA."  They wrap 
Murdock's leg tightly to stop the staunch flow of blood.  BA gazes 
silently down at his injured companion.  His thinning hair matted to his 
head which lies cradled in the big man's lap.  No matter what BA says 
about the schizophrenic pilot he is the best friend he ever had.  They 
make Murdock as comfortable as possible wrapping him in blankets to 
prevent shock.  Hannibal puts a hand on Face's shoulder and draws him to 
one side.  BA remains at the pilot's side talking quietly to him, 
reminding him of what he's going to do to him when he recovers.

"What medical supplies do we have?"  Hannibal asks a little hopeful.

"We have plenty of bandages and some aspirin,"  Face counts off watching 
the disappointment appear on Hannibal's visage.  "You do have a plan, 
don't you, Colonel?"  Face asks.  

Hannibal chews on an unlit cigar.  He leans against a seat crossing his 
arms in front of him before replying,  "Murdock needs medical attention 
and soon.  I'm worried about infection and blood loss.  We don't have 
any antibiotics."  Hannibal stares out one of the broken windows and 
continues,  "I think I spotted a village about two clicks south of here, 
maybe they have a doctor.  We'll  leave at first light."

"There's an old army stretcher in the back we can use,"  Face states 
looking back at BA and Murdock, worry lines forming at the corners of 
his eyes.

"Good.  Let's see what else we can find in this old crate that might be 

During the night Murdock awakens feverish and delirious yelling out, 
"Don't go guys.  It's a trap!"  The three look at each other realizing 
that Murdock is reliving their last mission.  He still blames himself 
for not stopping them from robbing the bank in Hanoi the mission that 
would make them wanted men for the next fifteen years.

At dawn they strap Murdock down on the stretcher.  The long night had 
taken its toll on Murdock.  His face was pale and gaunt making his eyes 
appear wild.  All they had in the way of pain killer was aspirin which 
had no effect.  Face loads a back-pack with all the supplies he could 
find.  Both he and BA carry their rifles slung over their shoulders.   
Hannibal carries his favorite service revolver.  All useless, since they 
spent all the ammo in Panama.  BA takes the head of the stretcher and 
Hannibal takes the feet both lifting in unison.  Face reluctantly takes 
point.  The empty rifle making him feel far from confident. There is a 
strange, yet intimate silence as the three begin their trek.  No one 
speaks, yet the three know what the others are feeling and thinking.  
Whatever it takes they must save the life of their friend and comrade, 
even at the cost of their own lives.  This is the motto that has kept 
them alive and friends for all these years.  The trail of littered plane 
parts and broken trees makes a clear path through the jungle.  They stop 
several times to re-wrap Murdock's blood soaked bandages and try to give 
him water. 


The team arrives in the remote village, dust-covered and exhausted from 
the long hot trek.   Small white-board dwellings, scattered on either 
side of the road, hide neglected fields of coffee and sugarcane.  The 
road widens through the village then ends at two large adobe-style 
buildings.  Two burned out trucks attest to a rather violent ending to 
the population.  BA and Hannibal carefully place the stretcher down.  
Hannibal examines several blisters on his hands, then kneels down to 
check on Murdock.  The pilot had been quiet for the past hour, but stirs 
under Hannibal's worried gaze.  Face scans the area. "Where is 
everyone?"  his tone subdued, apprehension causing his eyes to dart from 
side to side.   Instinctively he unslings his useless rifle.  Out of the 
corner of his eye BA spots a figure run between two huts.  BA's concern 
over his friend causes him to ignore his usual wariness.  Before anyone 
can stop him, BA races to the rear of the hut where the figure 
disappeared.   Hannibal and Face wait anxiously keeping their weapons 
ready.  BA soon returns with a small boy under his arm.  The wiry boy 
squirms and screams.  His face scrunched up in hatred.  "Let me go, 

"Easy nino, I won't hurt you,"  BA says as he fights to hold onto the 
boy.  A rifle shot kicks dirt up in front of BA causing Face and 
Hannibal to bring their weapons around.  Hannibal curses and chides 
himself for being inattentive and leaving them vulnerable.

"Put the boy down now! or you're all dog meat!"  Hannibal follows the 
voice to a hovel across the road, a rifle barrel sticking out the 
window.  "BA, I think you better let the boy go," Hannibal whispers 
back.  BA grudgingly releases the boy, who scampers off in the opposite 
direction, stopping just long enough to sneer in apparent victory.  
Hannibal places his empty pistol on the ground and raises his arms.  
Slowly he walks forward towards the small adobe building.  He stops 
several feet away licking the dryness off his lips.  "Listen, we need 
help.  Our plane crashed a few miles from here.  Our pilot is badly hurt 
he needs medical attention."  Hannibal sees the rifle barrel raise 
slightly, aiming at his chest.

"Americans?" The voice asks suspiciously.  Hannibal peers over his 
shoulder towards BA and Face before he answers, "Yes."  The rifle 
disappears from the window, after several moments the wooden door slowly 
opens.  An elderly gentleman squints as he steps out into the bright 
afternoon sun.  The man's skin is bronzed from the Costa Rican sun and a 
shock of wild, white hair sticks out from under a straw hat.  His 
straight strong physique makes it hard to discern his age.  His voice is 
firm, but Hannibal can detect a tremulous note in his voice as he 
orders,  "Tell your men to drop their weapons!"  Hannibal nods towards 
Face and BA who freely drop the useless rifles.  BA's muscles tense and 
his eyes lock on the elderly man, waiting for his chance to disarm the 
situation.  The gentleman keeps his rifle trained on Hannibal as he 
steps past.  He motions for BA and Face to back away from the stretcher.  
The gentleman cautiously kneels down, keeping one eye on the strangers, 
and placing his hand upon Murdock's pale forehead.  He then takes hold 
of his wrist and then lifts open one eye.  His face drops with his 
shoulders as his examination reveals the truth.  He slings his rifle 
over his shoulder and rises to meet Hannibal's bright eyes.  "I'm a 
doctor, bring him inside." 


The doctor's office is a two room adobe dwelling, just a little larger 
than the surrounding hovels.  A crude wooden cabinet stands against the 
far wall with three low lying cots, one in each corner of the back room.  
The front room caters to a table and four chairs.  A small wood stove, 
adding to the heat of the day, sits in one corner.  A yellowed medical 
certificate hangs next to several shelves, which are stocked with a 
myriad of medicines.  Hannibal eyes the medicines and wonders where a 
rural doctor could obtain such valuable drugs.  Face and BA place 
Murdock gently down on one of the cots.  The doctor moves in pushing the 
two away.  He carefully unwraps Murdock's blood soaked and sweat covered 
bandages.  Murdock moans slightly, but remains unconscious.  Hannibal, 
BA and Face stand off to one side grateful for the cooler darkness of 
the office. 

 "Hannibal, should we trust him?"  Face whispers furtively as he watches 
the doctor work on their friend.  "Do we have a choice?"  Hannibal 
answers.   The doctor dips a clean rag into a bowl of water and 
carefully cleans and inspects the inflamed wound.  The team watches the 
doctor perform some minor checks.  After which he straightens placing 
his hand in the center of his back.  He turns and steps up to Hannibal 
wiping the blood from his hands.

"Your friend is very sick, I'm surprised he made it this far.  He's very 
dehydrated and weak.  I have some antibiotics that should help stave off 
infection.  But, he's lost a lot of blood."  The doctor stares at the 
three unique looking individuals.  "Now, who are you guys and what are 
you doing here?" 

Hannibal pulls out one of his few remaining whole cigars.  "We were 
about to ask you the same question, you're obviously an American.  Where 
are we and where is everybody?"  

The doctor goes to one of the shelves and grabs several cups, then walks 
over to the stove.  He removes an old coffee pot and places it on the 
table.  "Help yourself.   It's the one thing we have plenty of."  The 
doctor walks around to the other side of the table.  "I'm doctor Robert 
Cranfield and you're twenty miles east of Alajela."  He sits down in one 
of the chairs and continues, "I retired a couple years ago from the Army 
Medical Corp."  Face and BA straighten and shift nervously at the 
mention of the Army.  Hannibal's face remains passive giving away 
nothing.  "After my wife past away I got bored, so I offered my services 
to Third World countries.  I came here about six months ago from 
Cambodia."  BA stands off to one side his arms crossed.  His eyes locked 
suspiciously on the doctor.  Doctor Cranfield pours himself a cup of hot 
coffee, trying to ignore BA's glaring eyes. 

"So where are all your patients, doctor?"  Hannibal asks a hint of 
sarcasm escaping.  The doctor looks up at Hannibal.  "This was a 
peaceful village the people were poor, but happy.  They grew their own 
food and made their own tools and wares.  They didn't depend on many 
outsiders and had very little contact with anyone."  The doctor 
hesitates, staring down at his cup the sadness evident in his voice,  
"That was probably the reason they were so tempting a target."   Face 
sits down opposite the doctor and reaches for the pot of coffee as the 
doctor continues his tale.  "Two weeks ago, a man named Rodrigo 
Cavallon, from Mexico, started taking the adults away leaving the 
children to fend for themselves."  BA slams his fist down, rocking the 
rickety table and startling the doctor. Nothing angers the big man more 
than children being harmed or victimized.

"Easy, BA."  Hannibal places a restraining hand on the black man's 
shoulder.  "What does this Cavallon want with the adults?"  Hannibal 
asks as he moves around the table to stand next to the doctor continuing 
to twirl his unlit cigar.

"They're put to work in a gold mine a couple miles from here."  Anger 
now fills the doctor's words.  "Cavallon is an egotistical tyrant.  He 
prides himself at being a descendent of Juan de Cavallon who led the 
first successful colonizers into Costa Rica in 1561.  He feels everyone 
owes him something for this.  Every three days they come, returning the 
ones that are exhausted or injured and taking others."  The doctor bows 
his head.  "They threaten the children to keep the parents in line.  Me 
and some of the older children try to take care of them as best we can, 
which is probably why they don't bother with me."

Face runs his hand through his dust covered hair, wondering how they 
always manage to fall into these things.  He then asks, "How many men 
does this Cavallon have?"

The doctor turns his attention to the handsome Face.  "I've seen about 
ten different faces.   But I think there is more.  The chief lackey goes 
by the name of Rafael.   He's a real mean one."  The doctor stares down 
into his coffee cup gently swirling the black liquid around.

Murdock moans from the other room and Hannibal rushes to his side.  He 
kneels down beside the feverish pilot.  Murdock reaches up grabbing 
Hannibal by the shirt.  "Colonel, Colonel you need to strap in this 
bird's going down.  Tell BA I'll refund his ticket." 

Hannibal looks into the raving pilot's glassy eyes as he tries to calm 
him.  "It's okay, captain you did good."  Murdock goes into a coughing 
spasm which saps him of any remaining strength.  Hannibal eases him back 
down onto the cot feeling the heat emitting from his feverish body.   He 
stands, meeting doctor Cranfield's disconcerted eyes and confused frown.

"Colonel, captain, who are you guys?"  The doctor asks.  Hannibal stares 
back into the doctor's steel gray eyes.  He's always been a good judge 
of character and hopes he can trust this man.

"I'm Hannibal Smith your patient is H.M. Murdock.  This here is BA and 
Templeton Peck, a.k.a..."

"...Faceman, you're the A-Team!"  The doctor cries astonished.  The awe 
in his voice causing Hannibal to swell with a certain amount of pride.

"You've heard of us?"  Hannibal replies with mock modesty.  The doctor 
takes a moment to gape then breaks into a laugh forcing his hand into 
Hannibal's and giving him a firm handshake.

"I served in Nam, everyone heard of the A-Team.  You guys saved a lot of 
men.  I know, cause I patched up many of the ones you brought out."    
The smile remains on the doctor's face as he shakes his head in 
disbelief.  He heard so many stories about the A-Team they almost seemed 
legendary.  Now they were standing here in front of him.  "What are you 
guys doing here, aren't you wanted by Military?" 

Hannibal looks down at Murdock, concern returning to his face.  "That's 
a long story, just to say, we were returning from a mission when our 
plane developed mechanical problems."

The doctor casts a worried glance down at Murdock who appears to have 
quieted.  His shirt plastered to his skin by sweat.  "He must be one 
hell of a pilot for you all to of survived a crash landing in the 

"He's the best and you're gonna save him, right!"  BA growls at the 
doctor, who steps back from the huge imposing black man. 

Face intervenes.  "You have to forgive BA.   He's always grouchy after a 
crash."  The doctor forces a smile and looks directly into BA's dark, 
worried eyes.  "I'll do my best for your friend, but if Cavallon and his 
men come around you all could be in a lot of trouble."

"You just worry about your patient doctor we'll take care of Cavallon 
and company." Hannibal lights the cigar which sticks out of his 
mischievous grin. 

BA shakes his head in dismay.  Noticing the glint in Hannibal's blue 
eyes he murmurs, "He's on the jazz." 

"Yeah, we're great at exterminating low-life's,"  Face expounds taking a 
swig of coffee.  A young girl, probably no more than five, enters the 
doctor's office.  Without any fear she goes to BA, taking hold of  his 
huge hand.  Her dark eyes look up into BA's ebony face.   In a small 
voice she speaks in Spanish to BA who turns to the doctor for a 

"She asked if you are going to save her mommy and daddy?"  BA bends down 
and lifts the little girl up.  "We sure are darlin', that's a promise."  
The girl seems to understand and smiles.

Hannibal places his hands, palms down, on the table and leans forward as 
he questions the doctor.  "Okay, first are there any adults left?" 

"A few, they're afraid to leave, afraid the bandits will take it out on 
the others.  Most hope Cavallon and his men will eventually move on if 
they cooperate.  These are simple, hard-working farmers, they won't risk 
their children's lives." 

Hannibal strokes his chin as he straightens.  "We need to make sure the 
children are in a safe place."

The doctor looks up, eager to help.  "There's the school house at the 
end of town, I think they would be safe there."

"Great.  Now all we need is ammo,"  Face breaks in dejectedly. 

The doctor breaks into a wide grin as he steps over to an empty cot.  
Pushing the cot aside, he pries up one of the floor boards and steps 
back motioning with his hand.  "Some souvenirs from Nam, thought they 
might come in handy some day."  Everyone is silent for a moment as they 
peer into a hidden cache of grenades and several M16s with ammo.  "Never 
could bring myself to use them.  I was only a doctor back in Nam never 
saw any action, hell, I've never even killed anyone, just witnessed a 
lot of death."

Hannibal places a friendly hand on the doctor's shoulder.  "There are 
many ways to be a hero, Doc."  BA hands the little girl over to Face and 
reaches into the cache pulling out the rifles and ammo.  "We'll save the 
grenades.  We don't want to blow up their village,"  Hannibal remarks.  

The doctor sits down on a nearby cot and looks up at Hannibal.  
"Cavallon's men are due day after tomorrow."  Hannibal nods in 
acknowledgment as he checks out an M16 rifle.  Satisfied, Hannibal 
slings the weapon onto his shoulder.   A sly smile lifts the corners of 
his mouth slightly as he remarks,  "Well, I guess we should prepare for 
our guests." 


Hannibal, Face, BA and the doctor work all the next day, rounding up the 
children and convincing the adults to hide out in the school house.   
They stock pile enough food and supplies for the villagers to survive 
for several days.  As the time nears for Cavallon's men to arrive,  BA 
and Face take up strategic positions within the village.  Hannibal waits 
with the doctor in his office.  He watches as the doctor swabs 
disinfectant on the inside of Murdock's elbow, then expertly sets up an 
I.V. line to administer antibiotics.  The few times Murdock regained 
consciousness, he babbled wildly.  "It must be the fever," Doctor 
Cranfield worriedly remarks to Hannibal.

Faint rays of light illuminate the darkness, seeping into the rustic 
office through the curtained window.  Hannibal smiles, leaning his chair 
against the wall enjoying his last cigar.  "Oh, not all of it.  Murdock 
has a somewhat unique psyche,"  Hannibal states his eyes staring 
straight ahead peering into the past.  "Ever since Nam, Murdock 
sometimes escapes to other places as other people.  He saw a lot in Nam, 
probably to much."  The doctor nods his head in understanding as 
Hannibal takes a deep drag on his cigar, the end burning brightly in the 
dimly lit room.  Hannibal looks over to the shelves of medicine and 
breaks the silence.  "I was noticing your assortment of medicines, quite 
a collection for a country doctor." 

He turns to look the doctor straight in the eye as he answers, "I still 
have friends in the medical profession who help me out whenever they 
can.  They send me a little of their excess nothing that anyone would 

Hannibal brings his chair down and cocks his head as they both hear the 
sound of a truck rumbling up the dirt road.  The doctor goes to the 
window and peers out as the truck stops, the motor dying prematurely, 
several yards away.  Three heavily armed men wearing worn army fatigue 
pants and tee-shirts exit the truck and unsling their rifles.  They talk 
amongst themselves for a few moments.  Two of the men look to be no more 
than nineteen.  They follow behind an older and larger man wearing a 
shirt with a rough drawing of porky pig stamped on the front.  Unlike 
his two companions the older man appears well fed.  The three start to 
saunter towards the doctor's office.

The doctor turns to Hannibal who stands against the wall next to the 
window and says with a strong note of disgust,  "The one with the pig 
shirt is Rafael."  Hannibal peers out.

"You stay here doctor, no matter what happens.  The children need you."  
Hannibal checks his rifle and steps outside. The three don't notice 
Hannibal at first, until in a commanding voice he orders, "Okay, 
scumbags.  Stop right there!"  The three men halt, startled at being 
confronted.   Hannibal drops his cigar, grinding it under his foot.  
Rafael steps forward, a malicious grin pasted on his chubby face.  The 
other two shift nervously behind him.  The large man turns his head 
saying something in Spanish to his men.  He then brings his attention 
back to Hannibal who waits patiently.

"Ah, senor, you are new here, si.  Why don't you mind your own business 
and be on your way?"  

Hannibal smiles.  His rifle cradled across his arms.   His body turned 
so that the business end is aimed at the crude pig design on Rafael's 
shirt.  "It's not going to work that way compadre. Why don't you save 
yourselves a lot of trouble and go back under the rock you crawled out 

Rafael's eyes narrow as he runs his hand through his dirty, wild hair.  
He turns to his men and chuckles.  The other two nervously return the 
laugh.  "Well, we seem to have some kind of hero here.  Have it your way 
senor."  Rafael motions for his men to move forward.  A shot rings out 
kicking dirt up and causing the three to scatter for cover.  Hannibal 
runs around to the side of the doctor's abode.  One of the young men 
takes refuge behind a broken down truck.  As he peers inside the cab, BA 
comes up from behind, putting a hammer lock on him and neatly grabbing 
his gun when it drops from his limp fingers.  He lets the man crumble to 
the ground.  Face sneaks up behind the second young man, striking him 
with the butt of his rifle.   He quickly takes his weapon and looks for 
BA who gives him the thumbs up sign.  Rafael sneers as he takes aim on 
the back of Face's head.  He slowly squeezes the trigger, stopping when 
he feels the barrel of a pistol in his ear.  "I'd put that down real 
slow if I were you,"  Hannibal hisses into the chubby man's ear.  A drop 
of sweat runs down Rafael's scarred cheek as he slowly lowers his rifle.

The doctor's door swings open and Rafael steps inside.  His hands on top 
of his head and Hannibal's pistol in his back.  BA and Face follow 
casually, until they run into the back of Hannibal who has halted just 
inside the door.  They peer over his shoulders to see two burly men, one 
holding a pistol to the doctor's head.  Face's shoulders slump 
noticeably as he quietly murmurs to BA,  "Oh man, who was suppose to 
watch the rear this time?" 

"Sorry, Hannibal they got the jump on me," the doctor confides.  

A tall, dark, muscular man with black hair, cut short and neat, 
accentuating his fine boned features, steps forward.  Like the rest of 
his men he is dressed in army fatigue pants and a dark green tee-shirt.  
His raven eyes exhibit an intelligence that is lacking in the others.  
"Por favor senor, do come in.  We've been waiting for you and your 
friends."  A contemptuous smirk forms on his face.

"You must be Cavallon?"  Hannibal inquires, maintaining a stoic 
composure as Rafael takes their weapons, eyeing them with the same 
contemptuous sneer on his pot-marked face as his leader.

"Si, senor.   We have been watching you all since you arrived here.  I 
thought it prudent to enter, ah how you say cautiously, in case we 
weren't welcomed.  Now, you know who I am, who are you?" Hannibal 
remains silent, a hint of a smile on his face.  Cavallon glares at the 
three, not sure what to make of them.

"We're just out here on a nature retreat,"  Hannibal replies, catching 
the quick grins on Face and BA's face.  
Cavallon is not amused by Hannibal's impertinence.   "Okay, I think we 
all go for a little ride.  We can use four more strong backs in the 
mines."  Hannibal glances towards Murdock, fear rising in him at how 
pale and haggard he appears.

The doctor notices Hannibal's concern.  "He's okay Hannibal, for now." 

Hannibal turns to Cavallon.  "Listen, our friend there needs the 

"Well, maybe we'll just put your friend out of his misery."  Cavallon 
cocks his pistol, placing it next to Murdock's temple.  BA steps forward 
prepared to tear Cavallon in half. Face puts out a stopping arm, nodding 
towards Cavallon's men, who have their weapons pointed directly at the 
large black man.  BA growls threateningly, but backs down.  The room 
grows quiet as tension fills the small office.  Everyone waiting for the 
first move to be made.

Hannibal looks at Cavallon from beneath lowered lids.  "You'll be making 
a colossal mistake, amigo."  Hannibal reaches for a cigar from his shirt 
pocket stopping when he realizes he smoked the last one earlier.  
"Explain it to him, Face."

Face glares at Hannibal as he stammers, "Ah, right, a big mistake, very 
bad business if you ask me."  He hesitates as Cavallon stares at him 
perplexed, but interested.   Face knows he has to convince Cavallon it 
would be in his best interest to leave the doctor here.  His mind 
working almost as deviously as Hannibal's he quickly comes up with a 
plan.  "If you let the doctor stay and tend to our friend we'll 
cooperate and won't cause any trouble."  Hannibal raises his eyebrows, 
his blue eyes bright in amusement.  Face slaps his hand on BA's massive 
shoulders, describing him to Cavallon like a prize bull.  "Look at these 
muscles, he's as strong as three men."  BA growls menacingly under his 
breath, but his eyes tell Face he knows what's he's trying to do. 

Cavallon seems to consider this when Murdock stirs.  The doctor quickly 
injects, "Their friend is to sick to cause you any trouble.  He'll 
probably die, and the children here still need me."  The doctor pleads 
with Cavallon, giving him his most desperate look.  
He would kiss Cavallon's feet if he thought it would help him stay with 
the children and he hoped Cavallon believed this.

Rafael steps up alongside Cavallon and murmurs into his ear.  "We could 
use some strong men.  The farmers are dropping like flies.  We're 
falling behind schedule."  Cavallon scratches his head with his pistol 
as he weighs all his options.  These men disturb him, not that he'd 
reveal this to his men.  He felt the three had to much confidence and 
could be dangerous, but Rafael was right.   The frail farmers were 
unable to put out an adequate load.  He'll get what use he can from 
these three then dispose of them personally.

An evil smile appears on Cavallon's face as he comes to a decision.  
"Well, I don't want it said that Cavallon is a murderer of children.   
The doctor can stay and we'll let your friend live as long as you keep 
your promise and don't cause any trouble."  

Face smiles as he states,  "My word is as good as yours."  Cavallon's 
smile falls slightly as he considers this last statement.  Glaring at 
Faceman, he barks an order to his men.  "Get them in the truck, vamos!"

Hannibal, Face and BA are forced into the bed of the old rusty truck.  
"You'd think with a gold mine they could afford better transportation."  
One of the bandit's shoves Hannibal  as he climbs into the truck, not 
amused by his glib remark.  The two men Face and BA knocked out earlier 
join them.  Both remain silently submissive under Cavallon's displeased 
glare.  Cavallon jumps into the passenger side of the truck.  The doctor 
turns from the window, rubbing his eyes in despair, as the truck roars 
away.  He looks over to the cot to see Murdock sitting up pulling the 
I.V. out of his arm.  Murdock tries to stand, but immediately sits back 
down as a sharp pain lances up his leg.  The doctor races to his side.

"What do you think you're doing?  You're in no condition..."

Murdock grabs the doc's arm.  "Sorry doc, my compadres need me."  
Murdock gazes beseechingly up at the doctor with feverish and pleading 
eyes.  "But, I think I'm going to need your help."  The doctor is torn 
between helping Hannibal and the others and protecting his patient.  
Murdock winces and says,  "You need to keep me on my feet, doc.  I also 
need to know if these people have any type of aircraft?"  The doctor 
hesitates a moment, seeing the determination on the young pilot's face 
he realizes Murdock will help his friends with or without his help.

"Yes, a small two man helicopter I've seen it fly over head a couple 
times, but I don't know where they keep it."  Murdock rubs at his leg 
trying to massage the pain into submission.

"We need to find that helicopter." 

A young boy, the same one BA grabbed earlier, appears at the window.  "I 
know where they keep it, senor."  The small boy gives the men an 
innocent, but devilish smile.

"Tomas, you should be at the school house with the others," the doctor 
"Wait a minute doc, we need to know where that helicopter is."

Doctor Cranfield pauses a moment, looking at the young boy who seems to 
have aged years in the past month. "Okay Tomas, tell us where it is?"  

"No, I take you there I want to help."  Murdock has to smile at the 
small boy's boldness.  He motions for the boy to come inside.  The boy 
comes straight up to Murdock, who remains sitting on the cot.  Murdock 
places his hands on the boy's thin shoulders and looks him straight in 
the eye.

"Okay, but you have to do exactly what I say." 

Holding back his enthusiasm he replies, "Si senor Murdock, I will I 


BA, Face and Hannibal sit quietly in the bed of the truck feeling every 
bump on the dirt-packed road.  They finally come to a halt within a 
small encampment.  The three jump down off the truck surrounded by four 
heavily armed men.  Hannibal quickly scans his surroundings.  A small 
clearing with four tin-roofed buildings, the light of lanterns piercing 
the darkness of the encroaching jungle.   He can barely make out the 
dark entrance to the mine in the side of the mountain.  One of 
Cavallon's men, another young boy, reluctantly comes forward and 
proceeds to leg shackle the three together.  BA growls down at the boy 
who scurries away, his eyes wide.  Cavallon steps forward feeling safer 
with the three shackled.   "This is the only mine for miles, as soon as 
we tap it out we'll move on.  So the quicker you work the faster we 
"Yeah, then you go and take advantage of another village, using the 
people for slave labor and keeping the profits for..."  Face's statement 
is cut off with a rifle butt to the side.  BA manages to grab him before 
he hits the ground.  He remains bent over gasping for breath.

Cavallon sneers, "I hope you'll enjoy your accommodations?"  

Hannibal senses the man's apprehension and smirks, "Oh, we've had 

Cavallon steps to within inches of Hannibal's face.  His eye twitches as 
he ominously says, "You promised me no trouble.   I intend to hold you 
to that.  Any funny business and I'll send my men back to town and bring 
your friend's head back on a platter."  Hannibal is sure Cavallon would 
do what he says, and with great pleasure, but he always had a hard time 
taking scum like him serious.  In a very sedate undertone Hannibal 
replies, "Just remember Cavallon, what goes around comes around."  With 
a quick wave of his hand Cavallon motions for his guards to take the 
three away.  He grunts with approval as Rafael shoves Hannibal forward.  

The three are led to a bunker next to the mine entrance and shoved in.  
"You better get some sleep you're going to have a busy day tomorrow."  
The guard sneers as he closes the heavy steel door.  The bunker is 
nothing more than a cinder block building with a dirt floor and no 
windows.  A small vent six feet above the floor allows some fresh air to 
enter.   Hannibal notices the other captives crowded against the back 
wall staring warily at the new arrivals.

"Face, can you do anything about these shackles?"  Hannibal shakes the 
leg with the annoying restraint.

"Hannibal, don't insult me.  When the time comes I'll have these off in 
no time."    Face turns to the other captives and turns on his most 
sincere smile.  "Hola, hablo English?"

There is some murmuring and the crowd parts as a small middle aged man 
with brown hair steps out.  "Si, my name is Juan.  Who are you?"

Hannibal steps forward, a charming grin on his face as he exclaims, 
"We're your rescuers."  


At dawn the captives are ushered out of the bunker, given some stale 
bread and a small drink of water then marched into the mine by three 
armed men.   Actually one man and two boys, both probably no more than 
eighteen.   Hannibal notices the hastily placed beams bracing the walls 
and ceiling.   It wouldn't take much to bring the whole mine down on top 
of them.   After several hundred feet of shuffling down the dank, 
lantern lit mine shaft, they come to a dead end of dirt and rock.  "Okay 
everyone, get to work!"  The oldest of the guards orders in spanish and 
rough english.  The farmers mechanically pick up a tool from the side 
wall.   "What are you three waiting for?" The guard asks the three new 
comers, who appear to be waiting for something.    

Hannibal folds his arms and breaks into a gregarious smile and answers,  
"You didn't say please."  The guard glares at Hannibal and points his 
rifle at one of the farmers who stops and stares in fear.  The smile 
drops from Hannibal's face and he moves to pick up one of the mining 
implements.  He knows how far to push someone and likes to test the 
boundaries.  This gives him an idea of the kind of person he's dealing 
with.  This guard is dangerous.  The younger two appear nervous, only 
doing what they're told and nothing more.  Juan quietly approaches 
Hannibal.  Looking over his shoulder at the other farmers, who urge him 
on, he swallows nervously.  "Ah, senor, you must not do anything to 
provoke these men.  They'll hurt our children."

Hannibal sees the grim expression on many of the farmers; forced to work 
fourteen hour days with very little food or water, many have given up.  
Hannibal knows men like Cavallon feed off good people like these for 
there own end.  The only way to stop people like Cavallon is to squash 
them like the vermin they are.

"Don't worry."  Hannibal claps Juan on the shoulder.  "We'll hurt them 
first."  Unable to reply to this, Juan gives Hannibal a faint smile and 
goes back to his work, shrugging his shoulders at his fellow captives. 

"So what's the plan, Hannibal?" BA whispers, as he drives the pick into 
the rock wall.

"We prepare for our opportunity,"  Hannibal states matter-of-factly as 
BA and Face look at each other bewildered. 

"And what opportunity might that be?"  Face questions, disgusted by the 
dirty manual labor he's being forced to endure.

"We'll know when it presents itself,"  Hannibal says assuredly as he 
shovels dirt into a nearby mine car.  "By the way, have you noticed that 
most of Cavallon's men are nothing more than boys."

"Yeah, I've noticed Hannibal, what do you think?"  BA asks.

"I think, that Cavallon probably pays the families of these boys to use 
them.  So there's probably not a whole lot of loyalty, which could work 
in our favor."  BA smiles knowingly as he continues to work.


Tomas leads the donkey and cart down an over-grown cattle trail.  The 
doctor follows behind keeping his head down submissively as they near 
the small helipad in the middle of the pasture.  The pilot stops his 
pre-flight check as he notices Tomas.  "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Pardon senor, my father and I wish to speak to Senor Cavallon.  We have 
vital information about the three men he recently captured."  The pilot 
looks suspiciously at Tomas who holds his sombrero against his chest and 
keeps his eyes down.  The pilot then turns his attention to the hay 
filled cart and smiles.   He unslings his rifle, directing the doctor to 
stand next to Tomas.  He walks around to the open back of the cart and 
starts to probe the hay with his free hand.  He keeps an eye on Tomas 
and the doctor and says,  "You must think me a fool, what do you have in 
here weapons?"  A hand suddenly shoots up, grabbing the pilot by the 
collar.   Another arm comes out shoving a 9mm pistol into his astonished 

"Drop the rifle, amigo,"  Murdock sneers, slowly rising out of the hay.  
The pilot quickly complies, not getting paid enough to risk his life.  
Murdock gives the pilot a cocky grin. "Bueno, we're going to borrow your 
little flying machine comprendo!" 

"You'll be making a big mistake hombre!"   The pilot snarls angered at 
being taken.

"To err is human and anyway I'm always making mistakes, but I always 
correct them too."   Murdock gives the bewildered pilot an exaggerated 
wink just as the doctor strikes him from behind knocking him to the 

"We did it, didn't we senor Murdock?"   Tomas yells triumphantly.  The 
doctor has to smile in spite of himself.

"We sure did, Tomas,"  Murdock answers giving the eager lad a proud 
smile as he swings his injured leg over the back of the cart.  "Okay 
doc, let's get that whirly-bird in the air."

The doctor helps Murdock out of the cart, as they make their way to the 
helicopter the doctor asks, "Ah, Murdock, before we go up just one 
question, are you really crazy?"  Murdock gives the doc a smile that 
doesn't ease his fears.  "Now doc, that would spoil all the fun if I 
told you."  The doctor hesitates a moment, shrugs and helps Murdock into 
the pilot's seat.  He then returns to the cart to retrieve the crate of 
grenades and three M16s, which he stores behind the passenger seat.  
Tomas looks pleadingly up at the doctor as Murdock does a quick check of 
the instruments. 

The doctor kneels down meeting Tomas' large dark eyes.  "Tomas, you need 
to go back to the village and protect the children.  I'm depending on 
you.  If anything should happen to me..."  The words are left unsaid, 
both understanding the danger.

"You can count on me, doctor."  Tomas seems to stand a little taller 
with the pride of responsibility.  He salutes as the helicopter rises 
off the ground.  The doctor returns the salute, then turns his attention 
towards Murdock, noticing the sweat glistening on his pale face.

He places his hand on Murdock's arm to get his attention.  "Murdock, are 
you all right?" He yells over the roar of the helicopter's engines.  
Murdock gives him the thumbs up sign and a pain ridden smile.  He had 
given the pilot a mild pain killer, anything stronger would have 
incapacitated him, but he knew Murdock was very weak from blood loss.  
He only hoped the pilot would last long enough to rescue his friends.


BA stealthily takes a pick jamming it between two rocks.   Hannibal 
casually steps in front, blocking the guards' view as BA snaps the 
handle off.  He furtively hands it to one of the farmers who slides it 
down his pants.  A slight smile, one of renewed hope brightens the 
farmer's face.  Face leans on his pick as he tries to shake the dirt out 
of his hair.   He gripes to Hannibal, "I hope that opportunity arises 
soon, Hannibal.  This is destroying my image not to mentioned my fifty 
dollar manicure."

"Shut up over there," The older guard yells cocking his rifle for 
emphasis.  Hannibal catches one of the younger guards attention noticing 
the faded line of a scar running down his cheek.  The guard stares at 
Hannibal with regret filled eyes then abruptly turns away.  


The helicopter follows the contour of the land, skimming trees and 
barely clearing hill tops. The doctor begins to doubt they will even 
survive to save Hannibal and the others. As they crest the western 
ridge, Cavallon's camp comes into view.   Murdock turns and yells to the 
doctor.  "Okay doc, when we spot Hannibal we'll drop down long enough to 
give them the rifles.  So lets let them know we're here.  Bombs Away!"  
The doctor grins as he pulls the pin on the grenade and drops it.  

At the sound of the first grenade explosion Hannibal straightens and 
smiles.  "Hear that, I think opportunity is knocking."  Face shakes his 
head.  "Never underestimate Murdock."  The tunnel shakes with the 
vibrations of the explosions, everyone looking up fearfully at the tons 
of dirt and rock overhead. 

The guards turn their weapons on the farmers.  The older one yells, 
"Okay, everyone just stay where you are."   The young guard with the 
scar asks, "Que ocurre ahora?"   The older guard notices the smug smiles 
on the three Americans and sudden dread grips him.  He turns to the 
young man replying, "Voy a salir un momento, de acuerdo."  The young man 
seems unsure about this, but before he can voice an opinion the older 
guard turns and races down the tunnel. 

Hannibal stares at the young, lanky boys, who seem lost without 
supervision.  "Listen boys, that guard has the right idea this whole 
tunnel could collapse.  We need to get out of here."  "Silencio!" The 
other boy shouts, not understanding English he points his rifle at 
Hannibal.  The boy with the scar speaks to him, Hannibal doesn't 
understand what is said but it apparently has no effect.  The two turn 
and stare down the tunnel wishing for the return of their supervisor.

BA breaks two more picks handing them to two more farmers, who quickly 
conceal them.  Face quickly unlocks the shackles as the guards' backs 
are turned.   Dirt sifts down as another explosion rocks the mine, 
making everyone extremely nervous.  When Face releases BA the big man 
quietly approaches one of the guards from behind, tapping him on the 
shoulder.  The boy's eyes open wide and he tries to bring his rifle 
around.  BA grabs the rifle wrenching it out of the young man's hands.  
He shoves the boy against the wall hard enough to knock some of the wind 
out of him.   BA turns his attention to the guard, with the scar down 
his cheek, he hands his rifle over with open relief.  


Murdock dips and dodges the barrage of bullets as the doctor continues 
to toss grenades, scattering the men on the ground.  Cavallon rushes out 
of one of the buildings shouting, "What is going on?"  He looks up at 
the attacking helicopter.  "Shoot them down!"  A sudden explosion causes 
Cavallon to hit the ground as dirt rains down on him.  He lifts his face 
the dirt not hiding the rage burning from his eyes.

Face grabs the keys off the now compliant guard and tosses them to Juan 
who begins to unshackle the rest of the villagers.   "C'mon, Murdock's 
going to need help,"  BA yells as he leads the way out of the mine 
shaft.   As Murdock brings the helicopter around for another pass the 
doctor spots Hannibal exit the mine.  He motions to Murdock who nods in 
acknowledgment.  "Hang on!"  he yells as  the helicopter suddenly drops.  
The doctor,  impressed with Murdock's skill as a pilot still believes 
he's going to die at any moment.  He continues to lob grenades keeping 
Cavallon's men off-balance.   Murdock lowers the copter to within a 
couple feet of  Hannibal's outreached hands.  The doctor quickly tosses 
Hannibal the rifles, who gives him the thumbs up.  Bullets start to fly 
and Murdock pulls the copter straight up,  causing the doctor to grab 
his seat.  His stomach coming up into his throat.

Juan comes up alongside Hannibal, who's crouched behind some metal drums 
just outside the mine entrance.   "We want to help, senor Smith?"   
Hannibal looks back to see several eager men just inside the mine, 
displaying their pick handles and ready to fight.  "Okay, but wait till 
we have the situation a little more under control, amigo," he replies.


Murdock clenches his teeth, the pain in his leg causing his vision to 
blur.  The pain killer had worn off some time ago and it has taken 
everything the pilot has to stay conscious.   He continues to dodge the 
barrage of bullets, one barely missing the doctor's head.   One bullet 
strikes the rotor and the copter spins out of control.

"Hannibal!"  Face yells pointing to the sky and the spinning helicopter.

Murdock fights with the controls.  "I can't believe I'm going to crash 
twice in one week,"  he complains.   The doctor grabs onto his seat, 
closing his eyes to shut out the spinning landscape.   "Hang on Doc, I 
think I can land this thing, but it won't be pretty."  Murdock manages 
to set the helicopter down in the compound, but the strain is to much 
for the weakened pilot and he passes out.   The doctor ignores the 
gunfire surrounding them.  His only concern is for the injured man who 
just performed a miraculous landing and probably saved both their lives.  
He slips out the passenger side shielding his eyes as dust and debris is 
kicked up with the wind from the blades.  He makes his way around to the 
other side of the helicopter.

The doctor tries to revive the unconscious pilot when BA shoves him 
aside, handing him his rifle.  "You'll have to cover us, doc!"  BA grabs 
Murdock's arm pulling him over his shoulder.  The doc follows behind BA 
as they race for the cover of several crates lining the outskirts of the 
compound.  He turns sideways firing at the charging men, hoping to keep 
them distracted long enough to get to safety, without killing them.  BA 
places Murdock down and retrieves his rifle from the doc, who kneels 
down next to Murdock.  BA aims over the crates setting down a line of 
fire, forcing the attacking men to take cover.  He turns just long 
enough to ask, "How is he, doc?"

"I'm sure he's been better.  We have to get him out of here."  The 
doctor stands reaching into his shirt.  "Here, maybe you can use these."  
The doc pulls out several grenades he had stuffed in his shirt.  BA 
smiles a smile that reveals he's having a hell of a good time.  The 
doctor also grins thinking he hasn't had this much excitement since 
Vietnam.  He only hoped he lived to tell about it.  BA throws the 
grenades scattering Cavallon's men and keeping them in total chaos. 

Hannibal and Faceman easily take out many of the inexperienced boys that 
Cavallon had hired.   The farmers manage to ambush and drag some of the 
men inside the mine where they are shackled.   Many of Cavallon's men, 
realizing the battle is lost take off into the jungle.  The rest soon 
throw up their hands and surrender.  BA moves out from the crates to 
assist Face and the farmers in rounding up the defeated men.  

Cavallon moves stealthily behind one of the buildings.  He reaches the 
far corner and peers around only to be met by the butt of Hannibal's 
rifle, straight into his stomach.  The force is enough to bring him to 
his knees.  He sputters and chokes as Hannibal picks up his rifle.  
Looking up at Hannibal he gasps,  "Who are you guys?" 

"Just concerned citizens of the world, who love it when a plan comes 
together."  Hannibal smiles as he removes a cigar from Cavallon's shirt 
pocket, placing it between his teeth.


The village people are overjoyed at being reunited with their families 
and show the A-team their appreciation with a sizable feast.  Trestle 
tables had been set up outside and laden to overflowing with meats, 
cakes and fruit for the four heroes.  

"Well doc, now that Cavallon and his cohorts are in prison they'll be a 
lot less excitement. What do you plan on doing?"  Hannibal asks as he 
bites into a delicious piece of fruit.

"I'll admit I was starting to enjoy myself, but I think I'm more the 
quiet down-home type.  The farmers are claiming the mine, the gold will 
help the village.   I'm even getting a real clinic.  And in 
appreciation, the town people voted to give you two percent of the 
annual yield for three years." 

Face brightens at the sound of income.  "Well, that makes it all worth 
it, of course, saving the villagers was a good thing too."  Face reddens 
slightly in embarrassment until the doctor breaks into a grin.  The 
three are interrupted by the sudden tirades of Murdock and BA.

"I warned you sucker about crashing that plane.  I told you what I was 
going to do to you when you recovered."  Murdock stands up placing his 
hand on the side of the building to steady himself.  His leg now in a 
cast signed and decorated by half the village.

"Yeah, but BA I was unconscious when you told me, now is that fair?"  
Murdock pleads for some understanding.

"I don't care, you crashed."  BA jabs his finger into Murdock's chest 
accentuating each word.

"Believe me, it wasn't my idea, big guy." Murdock holds up his hand in a 
boy scout salute.  "I promise, I'll never crash again."

"You were never a boy scout.  I'm heading for the coast and getting on 
the first boat to the states."

Face comes up alongside Hannibal.  "You know Hannibal, a boat doesn't 
sound to bad after everything that's happened."  Murdock overhears and 
gives Face a hurt look.  "Oh, come on guys, give me another chance, what 
are the odds of crashing a third time, uh?"

Hannibal removes the cigar from his mouth, giving Murdock a regretful 
gaze.  "Sorry Murdock, I'm with Face and BA this time.  A leisurely boat 
ride sounds nice and you could use the rest."  BA chuckles under his 

Murdock blusters as he turns and limps away muttering,  "I hope it 


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