Decker thought he was going mad.

He'd been seeing glimpses of Hannibal Smith all day around the camp, glimpses that vanished whenever he looked directly at them. And it wasSmith, no doubt about it; Decker knew that man's face almost as well as he knew his own. The same wolfish grin, that damn chirpy look...either Smith's ghost had decided to haunt him or he was going insane.

Unfortunately, since Decker didn't believe in ghosts, that only left one other option.

I'm losing my mind.

That wasn't a pleasant thought.

Maybe it was time for a vacation. Decker rarely took leave – the only person he visited was his younger sister, and she'd died twenty years ago – but still...a break might do him good.

The door to his office opened and a soldier walked in. Not just any soldier, but a full general in dress uniform.

Colonel Decker?"

Decker got to his feet and saluted. "Yes sir."

"At ease, Colonel, at ease. I just came by to borrow a pen."

"A...pen, sir?" Colonels didn't question generals in the grand scheme of things, but generals didn't often call on colonels to borrow pens either.

"Yes, a pen. I have some very important documents that need signing."

"Oh...well...here, sir." Decker picked up a pen and handed it to the general.

"Thank you. Might I use your office?"

That really wasn't general-like behavior. Generals ordered; they never asked permission, and they certainlynever asked permission from a colonel.

Still, the man did have a military bearing about him, and you couldn't fake that. Maybe the old guy was just a little eccentric.

"Yes sir." Decker started to leave, but the man raised a hand.

"No need; this'll only take a minute." He turned his head. "Colonel!"

Hannibal Smith strolled in, also wearing full officer's regalia, and smiled at Decker.

"Hello CD. How's tricks?" He nodded at the general, who was now signing three official looking documents. "Stockwell."

Decker sat down again, hard. The action didn't look entirely voluntary.

"What..."

"Well, Decker? Aren't you even gonna say hello?" Hannibal's grin was now so wide he was having difficulty getting his words out.

"Here you are, Colonel." Stockwell signed the final paper with, it has to be confessed, a slight flourish, then handed it to Hannibal and saluted him. "An official and full – not to mention long overdue – pardon for you and your men. The President has asked me to convey his regrets for the damage done to your reputations over this regrettable incident, and as we discussed earlier, suitable compensation will be arranged, along with promotions followed by immediate retirement for all four of you and your equally long-overdue pensions. However, since a pardon does imply an admission of guilt, there will also be a press release on national television clearing you of the crime you were so unjustly accused of all those years ago."

Hannibal returned the salute. "Thanks, General. Oh, one more thing; you might want to send someone in here with a winch to close Decker's mouth."

"Of course. You will be hearing from me again, Colonel Smith."

Hannibal grinned. "Anything you say, Stockwell. Just remember what you have to do if you want to use us again."

"Of course," Stockwell said again. "Well, I'm a busy man. I'll leave you alone; I'm sure you have a lot to talk about. You'll be hearing from me soon, Colonel Smith." The general actually smiled, then executed a perfect about-face and strode out.

Hannibal turned his head. "Guys!"

As Decker stared, Face and Murdock strolled in, both with identical grins.

"Long time no see, Colonel," Face remarked, while Murdock wandered around nosily, examining every nook and cranny of Decker's office.

The colonel stared at them, his mind spinning. "I watched you die, Smith! You and your men!"

Hannibal smiled at him. "And I'm sure that helped you sleep better at night, Decker."

"Or do somethingbetter at night, anyway," Face murmured, not quite under his breath.

Decker ignored this, focusing his attention on Hannibal. "Lieutenant-Colonel—"

"Actually, it's Colonel." Hannibal's smile broadened. "Or did you miss the part about our being promoted? You know, Stockwell was very grateful to us for completing this mission. Oh, and BA says he's sorry he couldn't make this little reunion, but he took his pardon and went to visit his mom for Christmas."

"What did you do?" Decker's voice was very hoarse.

Hannibal feigned nonchalance. "Oh, just some young relative of the general's that we had to rescue from some crazed cult. Strictly under the radar, of course, but it does make a change from the usual run of bad guys. In fact, I don't think we've done a cult since Jamestown."

Decker's fist slammed down onto his desk. "No! I mean how did you escape?"

Face smirked and sat down in the chair opposite Decker, swinging both feet up onto the colonel's desk.

"Now, now. A good magician never reveals his secrets."

"Y'know, that is very true," Murdock remarked, leaving off Decker's files for the time being. "I'm surprised you didn't know that, Decker."

The colonel didn't bother gracing this with an answer; instead he just stared at Hannibal.

"So you finally got your pardons." It was impossible to tell whether he was angry, upset or just stating a fact.

"Well, Stockwell was always going to give us those for completing that mission," Hannibal remarked. "Actually, he was all set to pay us for this one as well, only I told him we'd waive the money if he'd agree to this little ceremony in your office instead—" here he got a look from Face which said that decision hadn't been entirely unanimous— "and he was happy to go along with it. I think he played his part pretty well."

Decker narrowed his eyes. "Well. You got what you want, Smith, so why are you still here?"

"Oh, well, you see, that's the other part of the deal." Hannibal perched on the corner of Decker's desk and blew cigar smoke at him. "Stockwell mentioned he'd have more jobs for us in the future, but we prefer working for the little people, so we put in a clause. If he wants us, he has a week to catch us first. Specifically, youhave a week to catch us." Hannibal laughed. "It'll be just like old times, Decker, only without the court martial for us at the end."

Decker leaned back in his chair, staring at him. It couldn't have been plainer that he wanted to wipe that cocky smile off Hannibal's face, but even he didn't quite dare. The leader of the A-Team had gone from a fugitive mercenary to someone who was well placed to screw Decker's career up even further. The colonel wasn't naive, whatever his other faults, and he knew that if Hannibal demanded Decker's own head on a plate in exchange for going on another job for Stockwell, the general wouldn't even hesitate before agreeing.

"So when Stockwell says 'jump', I'm supposed to find and detain you without any members of the public watching for you and phoning in your location, without any military or civilian aid?"

Hannibal laughed again. "Decker, you were never able to catch us withall those things!" He hopped off the desk and strolled over to the door, followed by Face and Murdock. Pausing, he turned to deliver a jaunty salute. "Be seeing ya."

Decker slumped into his chair.

So it really was Smith.

He wasn't losing his mind. Smith and his Team were still alive...and he'd just been drafted back into chasing them as and when that damn general told him to.

Decker groaned out loud, massaging his forehead.

Damnit, I'd rather be crazy...

Well, this marks the end of the ATSB Thursday Challenges shorts. Not much, I know, but the weekly challenges haven't been issued for quite a long time now, and I wanted to finish on a happy note for the Team. Thanks for reading :D