Stockwell spoke quietly to one of his men, but the sound woke Kate and she sat up in her seat.

"Are we descending?" She looked around the plane.

"Just for a refuelling stop," Stockwell told her. "Perhaps you'd care to tell me where we're going after we arrive in Boston."

"Perhaps I'd care not to." She adjusted the cover over the birdcage, which was strapped into the seat beside her. "I hope it's not too cold there. Poor Sammy's had enough cold."

"You can leave the bird here on the plane while we go to... wherever," Stockwell said. Personally, he'd prefer to open the door and drop the cage out over the ocean.

"Are you serious?" Kate said, staring at him. "You think I'd leave him in the hands of your men, so you can use him to control me?"

Stockwell felt a pounding start up behind his eyes. "Doctor, are you actually suggesting I would use your canary as a hostage?"

"I wouldn't put it past you." She put a protective hand on top of the birdcage and glared at Stockwell.

I used to deal with serious people, he thought. People with serious power, serious information. Now I'm dealing with a mad old woman and her canary. How the mighty are fallen, Hunt Stockwell.

He never thought he'd feel nostalgic for the old days with the A-Team on his payroll. Even they hadn't been this big a pain to deal with, and only one of them was certifiable.

Or at least only one of them had actually been certified.

~~~~

The team slept most of the day. Hannibal needed a clear mind to get a plan going and sleeping on it often helped. Sometimes he woke with a plan fully formed.

Not this time. They woke in the evening for dinner and sat on their cots eating it. They should all be working together cooking up an escape plan, but the man stationed in the brig, easily able to overhear what the men in the cell said, cramped their style. Captain Tate was no fool. Even if he didn't believe they were the A-Team, their cover identities were all those of men who could make short work of an escape if left unsupervised to come up with a plan.

Having slept all day they were still awake at one in the morning, when the plan literally came to them.

A klaxon started whooping. The fire alarm, Hannibal recognised at once. A voice came over the PA, ordering crew to fire stations and patients to lifeboat stations. Could it be a drill? Hannibal doubted it, after all the excitement last night.

The lights went out.

Not only the lights, but the klaxon also faded and died. The hum of the air conditioner silenced, a sound barely noticed until it was gone. Above the door a red emergency light glowed letting Hannibal see the now thoroughly alarmed expression on the security man's face as he ran to the intercom.

The team were all on their feet now, ignoring the security man's repeated "Bridge? Come in!"

"Be ready to move," Hannibal told them. "Because whatever this is, I'll bet it's about us."

The guard gave up on the unresponsive intercom, grabbed his rifle and opened the door. He stepped out and there was a sudden crashing sound, and then a lot of thumping and yelling.

While the thumping and yelling were still going on, a man ran into the brig and up to the bars of the cell. Hannibal immediately recognised his erstwhile chess opponent, Baxter. Baxter, who thought computers ran the world. He could think what he liked - he was unlocking the cell, that's what counted.

"What's happening?" Hannibal demanded as the team piled out of the cell. "Did you do all this?"

"With some help," Baxter said. As if on cue, two men dragged the security guard into the brig and dumped him in the cell.

"Didn't kill him, did she?" Baxter asked, locking the cell. The men shook their heads. "Emma," he called out of the door. "Keep watch, hon, we'll be right out."

"Right."

"I don't know if you're Smith or Reese," Baxter said, turning back to Hannibal, "but I don't care. Here's the deal. You get off this ship and blow this thing wide open. Take it to the newspapers, the TV stations, anything. But tell the world about it."

"How do you even know about the possibility of me being Smith?" Hannibal said.

"Please, Colonel, this ship is full of people who are experts at hearing what they aren't supposed to hear, and going where they aren't supposed to go." He glanced at the two other men. "Go get it, and let's get them moving." They scurried out and Baxter turned back to Hannibal. "We have a deal, Colonel?" He held out his hand. Hannibal took it.

"We have a deal, Mr Baxter," Hannibal said.

The other men came back in with "it", a boxy shape, wrapped in oilcloth.

"It's Miller's radio," Baxter said. "I found it this afternoon when I decided to investigate her cabin. Jeff and Henry here extracted it. You'll need it."

One of them held it out towards the team and Hannibal nodded to BA, who took the parcel. Hannibal was starting to guess where they were going now, and he didn't like it much.

"It must have taken her ten years to build that thing," Baxter said. "Stealing parts every couple of months. I have to admit, she has the kind of crazy that lets her stick at something."

"Let's go!" The woman's voice came from outside. "Before someone comes to check on this place!"

"Okay, A-Team, or whoever you are, follow me."

In the corridor, they found a plump woman, dressed all in black. She was at least as old as Kate, or older.

"They should have coats," she said, frowning at the team. "They could get cold."

"They've got some blankets. Okay, Emma, Jeff, Henry. Thanks. Now get the heck out of here. I'll take them now. Clive and Frank should be waiting for us." The other three nodded and rushed off, while Baxter and the team set off in the opposite direction.

"I've got a route worked out," Baxter said. "Might seem roundabout, but it's the best way to avoid anyone else. Most people will be heading to the boats."

"We're heading for a boat too, aren't we?" Hannibal asked.

"Only way off a ship. I couldn't arrange a helicopter." He glanced back at them and grinned, a wicked expression in the red light. "Well, not on short notice." Hannibal grinned back at him and heard Face mutter something about the Jazz being contagious.

The team and Baxter pounded along corridors and up and down stairways. They heard voices, even ran past other people in corridors. But nobody pursued them, all far too busy. In the distance officers yelled orders through megaphones.

At last, they reached the stern of the ship, via a long and winding route. Back here Hannibal could hear and feel the engines still running. Which meant the power loss must be caused by sabotage somewhere in the wiring systems. He doubted such a widespread power loss could have been created by damage in just one spot. This was a coordinated team effort.

He laughed, unable to stop himself thinking of one of his favourite movies. Despite hurrying, he found the breath to hum the theme of The Great Escape.

"You can knock that off right now," Face said.

"Just for luck?"

"Most of them didn't make it."

Hannibal knocked it off.

They came out onto the boat deck, the chilly night air making Hannibal glad Baxter and his co-conspirators had apparently put blankets in the boat.

"This way," Baxter said, leading them through the darkness. How the hell did he see, Hannibal wondered, as he just managed to keep the man in sight. Someone grabbed the back of his shirt - he didn't look around to see who. Good idea. He reached for Baxter and grabbed a handful of shirt himself.

"Slow down," he ordered. "We don't know this place as well as you." Perhaps Baxter moved so sure-footed through the dark from memory, but the team didn't have that memory and a moment later, the inevitable happened. A curse from Murdock, then a crash followed by a yell from BA and another crash. Dammit. The hand gripping Hannibal's shirt let go and he heard Face being all Army back there, getting them on their feet.

"Come on, come on!" Baxter snapped. "You should be in the damn boat already!"

"Move it, guys," Hannibal ordered. The three of them stumbled out of the darkness and Baxter took off again. This time they all managed to stay on their feet and soon arrived at a boat station. The boat was already swung out over the water, ready to be lowered by two men waiting by it.

"Everything's in there," Baxter said. "Including oars."

"Oars?" Face muttered. "Oh great."

"There's a compass and maps too," Baxter said, ignoring Face's mutter. "Head northeast and you'll reach the shipping lanes. Put as much distance between you and the ship as you can. By the time they realise you're gone you should be too far away to spot."

"What about the ship's radar?" Murdock said.

"With a small boat like this they'll get plenty of traces that could be you. Whales, even dense shoals of fish. Chances of them picking you up on their radar are slim, though the further away you are, the better." He said that meaningfully, and Hannibal could just make out a glare in the moonlight.

"All aboard," Hannibal said to the team. While Baxter's two allies steadied it, Murdock, Face and BA climbed into the boat. Hannibal turned back to Baxter one last time.

"Don't thank me, Colonel," Baxter said, raising a hand. "Just keep your promise. Now get out of here."

Hannibal joined the others in the boat and it began to descend even before he sat down, jerking on rusty pulleys. The hull of the ship rose up past them as they sank into the darkness. A soft light appeared suddenly. Face had found an electric lantern and they used the light to get the oars and themselves arranged. Ready. Waiting.

They'd use the light only to read the compass and get the boat pointing in the right direction, Hannibal decided. Then they'd just row, as fast as they could, heading blindly over the water, into the darkness, away from the Meirion. Heading northeast, but mostly heading away. Distance gave them time.

Then they'd use the radio. He didn't much care who came to pick them up. As long as it wasn't the Meirion then they could be counted as home and dry.

A small splash told him they'd hit the water, and a couple of seconds later the boat stopped swinging, bobbing instead. Without needing an order, Face and Murdock went fore and aft to unhook the boat from the cables.

The manoeuvring took a few minutes and a lot of swearing - none of them were experienced oarsmen. Hannibal studied the compass carefully to be sure they were pointing in the right direction. Satisfied, he turned off the lantern.

"Okay, guys, let's get some blisters."

"Wait," Murdock said. "Don't we need a big sweaty man with a drum?"

"Damn," Face muttered. "Why didn't I pack my drum?"

They started to row.

Rowing on the ocean was a particular skill and none of the team had it. This led to more than a little growling and swearing as waves slopped them, or an oar blade trying to find the water found the air instead when the boat rose on the swell. At least twice that sent the man pulling on that oar off his seat and onto his back. More swearing.

The boat wasn't too heavy, to Hannibal's relief, smaller than some of the other lifeboats he'd seen on the ship. It would hold perhaps ten people. Even so, his back and shoulders soon burned with the unaccustomed exercise and his hands grew raw with blisters.

But that was nothing compared to the tension of rowing into the inky blackness. With his back to the direction they were heading, his mind went to frightening places. He'd leave it to Murdock to worry about sea monsters and giant squid. Hannibal feared who else might be out here, lurking silently.

The lanterns and flashlights aboard the Meirion bobbed and floated like fireflies in the darkness as the dark shape of the ship grew smaller.

"I think they're evacuating," Murdock said. "I see small boats in the water."

"They'd have to," Hannibal said. "They can't take a chance on it being a real fire. Once they realise it's a false alarm it's going to take a long time to get everyone back aboard. Won't manage it before dawn, I'd lay money on that."

"And they can't come after us while they're still rounding up the boats," Face said.

"Which gives us more time to put some distance between them and us. Come on, pull harder!"

"You 'eard the Cap'n, yer lazy swabs!" Murdock said. "Row! Or ye'll walk the plank! Yarr."

"Oh great," Face said. "I was hoping you were going to start doing that. Really I was. Can things get any worse?"

BA spoke then. He hadn't said much so far, just pulled hard on his oar, with little complaint. Hannibal expected him to yell at Murdock to shut up, but instead he spoke in a quiet voice.

"Hannibal, when I tripped over Murdock, I dropped the radio."

Hannibal went very cold, trying to remember if BA had been carrying the radio when he climbed into the boat. "You lost it?"

"No!" BA sounded irritated. "But it hit the deck with a heck of a crash."

There didn't seem to be much to say to that, not until they could check it out. It either worked or it didn't.

The team rowed on into the darkness.