Say what you will about black jelly beans, but they are survivors.
"I will determine what information you need and when you need it, as always. I will also decide when you have completed your end of our bargain, Colonel. Until then, no missions - no pardons."
Hannibal stared at Stockwell's back all the way to the door, only turning away when it bounced shut. BA came up, looking at the door as it slowly drifted back open.
"I guess we're still working for the general, huh?"
Hannibal took a deep breath. "How's Face?"
"Laying down. Think he shoulda found a different diversion 'sides flying a car."
"Yeah, well, it worked." He smiled, patting BA on the back. "But don't worry. He won't have to do it again."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." Hannibal grinned this time, and headed outside.
"Where is Colonel Smith?"
Frankie shrugged. BA and Murdock silently looked at Stockwell.
"And the lieutenant?"
Again, silence, though everyone noticed the formal phrasing. Didn't matter - with only three men present, the team wouldn't be going anywhere.
"Very well." Stockwell glared at his watch. "I will be back in four hours. The entire team had better be here. All of you."
BA winced. That door would never be the same.
"Certainly, Mr Liebler. I'm, uh, glad that you agree with me on this. I'll let the men know right away... Thank you, sir, for assisting on this matter... I will definitely let them know how grateful you are for their actions, sir."
He replaced the receiver very carefully in its cradle.
"General?"
"Yes, Carla?"
"Able Seven just called. The A-Team have disappeared. No one is at the compound." She glanced at a piece of paper. "He said they found an address, uh, painted on the wall. A Post Office box in Denver."
Surprisingly, Stockwell smiled.