Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Stringfellow Hawke scowled at the plaque above the door and wondered how he had ended up back at the Fifth Bar. It was hidden right in the centre of Washington D.C.’s political heartland and had been used for over a century for clandestine meetings and furtive rendezvous. From the outside it looked like any other upscale bar; polished wood and brass door leading into an elegant lounge with plush leather sofas and discreet booths, all in subdued lighting. From the outside, Hawke thought as he pushed open the door, it didn’t look like it had changed any since his last visit, more than four years before; his last informant session as an intelligence operative for the FIRM.

His blue eyes narrowed in the darkness and he headed for the far end of the bar, tugging at the tie around his neck and feeling uncomfortable in the suit he wore. He slowed to a halt as he neared his usual seat and grimaced at the man waiting there. Old memories bubbled to the surface and he ruthlessly suppressed them. He slid onto the bar stool and gestured at the barman.

‘Mineral water.’

‘Yes sir.’

Hawke waited until he had been served and the barman had moved away before he picked his drink up and glanced at the man in the white suit, with only the black eye-patch detracting from the sartorial elegance, patiently sitting next to him.

‘What’s this about, Michael?’

Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III, the deputy director of the FIRM, raised his own drink in a silent toast. ‘Thanks for coming, Hawke.’

‘It didn’t sound like a request.’ Hawke stated unable to keep some of the resentment he felt at being summoned from coating the words.

Michael did nothing more than raise an eyebrow at Hawke’ tone. He took a sip of his drink. ‘Where’s the Lady?’ He was careful to use the nickname for the world’s most technologically advanced and only mach capable helicopter; Airwolf. His deal with Hawke allowed Michael to use the machine for missions of national security whilst the FIRM tried to track down Hawke’s missing brother, Saint John.

‘Dom has her outside the city.’ Hawke said shortly.

‘How is Dom?’ Michael asked. The last time he’d seen Hawke’s surrogate father and mentor, the older pilot had just been cruelly betrayed by a lover. It had seemed to Michael that it had hit the older man hard.

‘He’s better.’

‘And Caitlin?’ Michael asked smoothly moving onto the third member of the Airwolf crew and Hawke’s fiancée. ‘I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you both on your engagement.’

Hawke’s icy blue gaze warmed a little. ‘She’s fine. She’s still in LA.’ There were only a couple of weeks left before the wedding and whilst he’d admittedly left most of the arrangements to his fiancée, he knew it hadn’t been fair to fly off to the other side of the country and leave her to cope with all the last minute hassles alone even if she’d been understanding about it. ‘How’s Angelina?’ He asked.

Michael smiled at the mention of his ten year old daughter who Hawke had helped him rescue from Russia. Angelina had turned him into a doting father. ‘She’s fine.’ He sighed. ‘You’ve heard what happened with the Challenger yesterday?’

Hawke nodded. The explosion of the space shuttle had been the main topic of news coverage since it had happened. He had worked at NASA for a while and he felt a sense of disbelief at the tragic loss.

‘Did you know anyone on board?’ Michael asked gently.

Hawke shook his head. ‘Not personally, no.’ He frowned; Dom, Caitlin, Angelina, current news…he gestured impatiently. ‘I take it you didn’t ask me here for small talk.’

‘No.’ Michael agreed readily. ‘I need your help.’

Hawke took another sip of carbonated water and waited silently. Michael had been in Washington over a month trying to convince a Senate Oversight Committee that the FIRM shouldn’t be amalgamated with another agency to save operating costs. The effort was taking its toll on the spy. Hawke noted the new faint lines creasing the older man’s face, the way the pristine white suit seemed to hang a little looser on Michael as though the spy had lost weight, and the tension in Michael’s good eye that even years of intelligence experience couldn’t quite erase completely. He felt a twinge of sympathy for his friend.

Michael placed his drink on the bar and reached into the briefcase beside him. He slid a folder across the bar at Hawke. ‘I need you to go undercover.’

Hawke stared at him. ‘As what?’

‘As a pilot.’ Michael picked up his drink and watched Hawke’s reactions carefully. Convincing the pilot to take a mission sometimes required the strategy of a grand chess master.

‘I’m getting married in two weeks, Michael.’ Hawke pointed out. ‘I don’t have time to go undercover.’

‘Your cover was established the last time you were here.’ Michael said.

Hawke took a gulp of water. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. ‘What’s this about?’

‘Guns, especially rocket launchers.’ Michael gestured at the folder. ‘It’s all in there. There was a raid on a naval base armoury a couple of days ago. It was kept quiet. We’ve managed to track the guns to Felix Rimmington.’

‘Rimmington.’ Hawke repeated the name with distaste. The man was a cold, hard arms dealer who thought only of the money he could make on a deal. Hawke’s last assignment for the FIRM as an operative had been working undercover as Rimmington’s pilot. ‘I thought he was in jail.’

‘Apparently he was released last month after an appeal.’

‘They let him walk?’ Hawke was incredulous.

‘He’d served his time.’ Michael explained.

Hawke shook his head in disbelief. Rimmington dealt in death and all he’d gotten for it was a couple of miserable years inside. He scowled ferociously. There were times he wondered if the justice system deserved the name.

‘You want me to go back in as Rimmington’s pilot?’

Michael nodded.

‘He’s not a stupid man, Michael. He’ll know something isn’t right.’ Hawke set his empty glass on the bar. ‘It took me months to get his trust the last time.’

‘And it worked.’ Michael said. ‘More to the point, your cover was never blown with him. You were on another assignment for him in Rio when we pulled the raid in Panama.’ He shifted to look at him. ‘At this point, all we want is the weapons back.’

Hawke’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘What’s so special about these weapons?’

Michael turned back to face the bar and knocked back the rest of his drink. ‘They’re prototypes.’

‘Prototype of what?’

‘Armour piercing weaponry.’

‘Armour piercing.’ Hawke repeated.

Michael nodded. ‘The ammo is specially constructed to blast through metal armour. They were developed to give us an advantage against tanks, armoured cars and battleships.’

‘Will they go through the Lady’s armour?’ Hawke asked.

‘I wouldn’t recommend putting it to a test.’ Michael answered forcefully. He sighed. ‘All you need to do is go back in as Rimmington’s pilot, find out where the guns are and tell us. We’ll take it from there.’

Hawke scowled.

‘Hawke, I don’t have to tell you the consequences of those weapons fell into the wrong hands.’ Michael sighed as Hawke maintained his silence. ‘Every intelligence agency at the Senate Committee negotiations is going after these weapons, not to mention NCIS and the rest of the usual law enforcement organisations. We need this win, Hawke and you’re our best chance.’

Hawke’s eyebrow quirked upwards; there was usually always a second motive behind Michael’s requests but he was never usually so open about them. ‘How bad is it?’

‘Bad.’ Michael said succinctly. ‘We don’t have many friends in the room.’

Hawke sighed deeply as his sympathy level for his friend doubled. ‘Fine but I’m only doing this for a week. If I haven’t found anything out by then, forget it.’

Michael nodded. He gestured at the folder. ‘Your id, documentation is all in there.’ He checked his watch. ‘When you have something, contact the usual number.’

‘I remember the drill.’ Hawke snapped.

‘Good.’ Michael stroked his moustache and slipped off the barstool. He threw a couple of dollars on the bar and picked up his briefcase. ‘Hawke, thank you. The FIRM needs this.’

Hawke caught Michael’s eye firmly. ‘I’m not doing this for the FIRM, Michael.’

Michael inclined his head. ‘Good luck.’

Hawke waited until the spy had exited the bar before he stood up, paid for his drink and took the folder. He stopped by the payphone and made a call.

‘Dom?’

‘Hey, String. It’s about time.’ Dom’s gruff voice travelled back down the line. ‘I was beginning to worry.’

‘Come and pick me up.’

‘On my way.’

Hawke made his way through the chilly night air to the deserted parking lot they’d marked out for the pick-up spot when Dom had dropped him off. He rubbed his hands together and pulled his jacket closer; he’d forgotten how cold it got out East in January. His head tilted. The merest sound drifted over the darkness and in the next instant, the howl of engines as Airwolf descended from the black sky. Hawke ducked under the rotors and climbed into his usual seat; Dom moved to sit at the engineer’s console in the back. A moment later they were airborne again and heading away from the capital city.

‘So?’ asked Dom impatiently, ‘do I have to torture it out of you?’

Hawke glanced back at the older man who was gazing back at him with blatant curiosity written over the craggy features.

‘It’s nothing to do with the Senate hearing.’ Hawke said firmly.

‘It isn’t?’

Hawke adjusted their balance. ‘No. It’s not even an Airwolf mission.’

‘Then what did Michael want with you?’ Dom asked perplexed.

‘He wants me to go back undercover.’

‘Now?’ Dom practically yelled the word before Hawke had finished speaking. ‘Doesn’t he know you’re getting married in two weeks?’ He grunted. ‘He has to be kidding.’

Hawke sighed. ‘He was serious alright.’

Dom caught the inflection in Hawke’s voice. ‘You told him you’d do it?’ His voice rose and Hawke winced.

‘I said I’d do it for a week and if it didn’t work out then he’d have to find someone else.’

‘And what’s Cait going to say when she hears that, huh?’ Dom argued.

Hawke pressed his lips together. ‘She’ll be OK.’

‘You hope.’ Dom returned smartly. He frowned at the back of Hawke’s head. ‘You two aren’t having problems again, are you?’ The couple had gone through a brief rocky patch just after they’d gotten engaged but they’d seemed to have come through it stronger than ever

Hawke’s head snapped around to meet Dom’s concerned stare. ‘Of course not.’

‘Then why take the job?’

Hawke sighed again. ‘The navy lost some armour piercing weapons a couple of days ago. They tracked them to a man called Rimmington.’ He paused. ‘My last gig as an operative before I joined the Airwolf project was being undercover as Rimmington’s pilot. I helped the FIRM get him on charges of illegal arms dealing.’

‘Oh.’ Dom was beginning to see why Michael wanted Hawke to take the mission. ‘But wasn’t your cover blown then?’

‘No.’ Hawke stared out at the night sky. ‘Michael arranged it so they raided Rimmington in one location when I was making a delivery for him in another.’

‘So this guy Rimmington thinks you’re still on the wrong side of the law?’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke shifted in his seat. ‘If I can talk my way back into working for him, I might be able to find out where those weapons are.’

‘That’s a big if, String.’ Dom pointed out.

‘I have to try, Dom.’ Hawke said firmly. ‘Rimmington’s a smart guy. He wouldn’t have stolen the weapons if he didn’t already have a buyer and Michael knows that.’

‘You think that’s why he asked you to go back in?’

‘I’d bet on it, Dom.’ Hawke said. ‘He knows they just don’t have the time to build an op from scratch and besides, it sounds like they need to make some political capital from a success in those hearings.’

‘Huh.’ Dom grunted. ‘Since when did you care about politics?’

‘Since Michael started looking like warmed up leftovers.’ Hawke muttered a little embarrassed.

Dom was quiet for a moment. ‘You think those Senate hearings aren’t going so well?’

‘I’d put money on it.’ Hawke said.

‘So what’s the plan?’ Dom asked finally; he knew Hawke, had raised him and knew continuing to argue about whether to do the mission once Hawke had decided to do it was a waste of time.

‘I’m going in alone.’ Hawke said and braced himself for an argument.

‘You’re what?’ The shout was amplified in the Airwolf headsets.

‘Rimmington knows me as a lone pilot.’ Hawke argued. ‘I can’t take the risk of him accepting someone else and besides if there’s a stranger around, he’s unlikely to give anything away.’ He glanced back. ‘I need you to stay close by with the Lady. If Rimmington even has a suspicion I’m working against him, he’ll not hesitate to get rid of me. I may need you for a quick extraction.’

‘I’m liking this less and less.’ Dom said.

‘Believe me, Dom,’ Hawke said as he started scanning the ground below for a landing spot, ‘I’m not real fond of it either.’

He still wasn’t fond of the idea when he followed the butler into the breakfast room the next morning. His appearance had dramatically changed since his meeting with Michael the night before; he hadn’t bothered to shave, had left the stubble on his chin and jaw. If he’d had the time he would have grown his own short brown hair out to a longer look; as it was, he’d left it rumpled as though he’d just climbed out of bed. The suit had been replaced with well worn jeans and a battered flying jacket; an old T-shirt hugged his torso. With the sunglasses and habitual scowl, Hawke hoped he looked like his cover, Ray Hawkins, a disreputable ex-con who wasn’t averse to turning a blind eye to criminal activity.

‘Sir?’ The butler cleared his throat nervously. ‘There’s a gentleman here to see you. A Ray Hawkins?’

Felix Rimmington lowered his newspaper, his pale green eyes shooting to Hawke and narrowing thoughtfully. Hawke returned the stare evenly taking his own measure of Rimmington; he was an aristocratic looking man, nearer fifty than forty but the dark black hair was only shot through at the temples with silver and his body was in good shape despite the time in jail. Rimmington folded the newspaper crisply and got to his feet. He extended a hand to Hawke. ‘Ray Hawkins. It’s been a long time.’

Hawke nodded. ‘Yes sir.’

‘Please take a seat.’ Rimmington gestured at the butler. ‘Bring some more coffee.’

The butler withdrew hastily as Hawke slipped into one of the antique dining chairs that matched the beautiful mahogany table.

‘Please help yourself to some breakfast.’ Rimmington said smoothly.

Hawke eagerly helped himself to some croissants and jam, careful to act as though he was hungry and just a shade on the wrong side of being desperate for something to eat but not too much…too much would raise Rimmington’s suspicions.

‘It’s been a while, Ray or do you still prefer Hawke?’ Rimmington tapped a cigarette against a silver cigarette case before he lit up and blew out a steady stream of blue smoke.

‘I still go by Hawke,’ Hawke admitted, ‘and yeah, it’s been a long while.’

‘How did you avoid capture in Rio?’ Rimmington asked his tone betraying nothing more than curiosity.

‘Luck.’ Hawke said around a bite of croissant.

‘You always were blessed.’ Rimmington noted. He flicked his ash into a large ornate ashtray. ‘Maybe if I’d had you with me in Panama I would have avoided my stay in a federal jail-cell.’

Hawke shrugged. ‘I don’t seem to be having the same kinda luck lately.’

Rimmington smiled. ‘Is it that why you’re here?’

Hawke gestured at Rimmington. ‘I heard on the grapevine you were out and I’m…between positions.’ He picked up the cup of coffee that had been poured for him. ‘You always did right by me.’

Rimmington stared at him for a long moment before he stubbed the barely smoked cigarette out in the ashtray, crushing the tobacco. ‘As it happens I need a pilot of your calibre for a trip I’m planning to take very shortly.’

‘If you have a plane…I’m available to fly.’ Hawke said easily.

‘Good.’ Rimmington motioned for the butler. ‘Do you need funds?’

‘Sure.’ Hawke smiled. ‘Who doesn’t?’

‘Find yourself a motel but stay close. Let me know which motel you’re at and I’ll be in touch.’ Rimmington scribbled a note to the butler. ‘Make sure you give this to Hawke on his way out.’

‘Yes sir.’

Hawke stood up realising he’d effectively been dismissed. ‘Thanks.’

Rimmington rose to his feet and they shook hands again. ‘I’m looking forward to working with you again, Hawke.’

‘Likewise.’ Hawke followed the butler out and quickly took his leave once he’d been given his cash. It took him an hour to pick up some groceries and rent a motel room. He was glad when he finally closed the door of his room with his foot and dumped the brown grocery bag on the rickety desk. He’d taken a room in a cheap but decent motel. It was still pretty basic accommodation but it was clean and it was secure. He figured that Rimmington would expect him to spend some of the money on his accommodation. He peeked out of the window, his blue eyes running over the old rental car he’d hired parked outside and the forecourt of the motel. The room gave him a good view of the parking area, the motel reception and the road.

He frowned at the sight of a grey sedan parked on the opposite side of the motel. He nudged the curtain back into position, unpacked his groceries and sat down on the thin mattress of the single bed. He snagged the phone and dialled the number the butler had given him for Rimmington. He had a short conversation with the nervous man who agreed to give Rimmington the address of the motel. Hawke hung up and dialled Airwolf’s secure number.

‘String?’ Dom’s anxious voice sounded down the receiver.

‘You expecting someone else?’ Hawke asked.

‘How’d it go?’ Dom asked.

‘I made contact. He remembered me.’ Hawke sighed. ‘He’s got a job for a pilot.’

‘You think it’s those armour piercing weapons?’

‘I hope so.’ Hawke said. ‘I can’t see how I’m going to find them otherwise. He’s a lot more paranoid about security than he was before.’

‘What d’ya mean?’

‘I mean his house is secured like Fort Knox. I’m not going to be able to just sneak in and see if he has the details of the deal lying around.’ Hawke commented.

‘That’s maybe not a bad thing, kid.’ Dom murmured glad he hadn’t known Hawke had been thinking about pulling such a stunt when he’d said goodbye to him that morning. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I think he doesn’t trust me with any of the details until it happens.’ Hawke said.

‘So?’

‘So I think I might have to wait until he leads me to the weapons.’

‘Kid…’

‘I think he’s going to move in the next couple of days. He can’t afford to wait any longer.’ Hawke sighed. ‘In the meantime, I’m going to have to wait around here.’

‘You could wait with me in the Lady.’ Dom’s voice was hopeful.

‘Can’t.’ Hawke said succinctly. ‘He’s got someone following me. He’s pretty good; I didn’t notice him until the grocery store.’

‘String, I think you should just drop this whole thing.’ Dom said worried.

‘Dom, if I was Rimmington I’d have me followed.’ Hawke said. ‘He steals a whole pile of weapons and I turn up a couple of days later? If I were him, I’d be suspicious.’

‘I still don’t think this is a good idea.’ Dom muttered.

Hawke sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I need you to go home and get Cait.’

‘You want me to do what?’

‘If this is going down the way I think it is; I’m going to need Airwolf to back me up and she’s going to need a full crew complement.’

‘You may be right.’ Dom said. ‘But if I go back now, you’re here on your own.’

‘So long as I don’t do something stupid I can’t see Rimmington bothering me for the next twenty-four hours.’

‘That’s what worries me.’ Dom said. He sighed. ‘OK. I’ll head back and pick up Cait.’

‘Tell her I…tell her I’m OK.’ Hawke said. Caitlin had been surprisingly understanding about his decision to take the mission when they’d spoken the previous evening but he’d heard the worry she’d tried to hide.

‘She knows, String. She understood.’ Dom reassured him.

‘Can you call Michael and let him know what’s happening?’ Hawke asked changing the subject.

‘Do I have to?’ Dom complained. He hadn’t quite forgiven Michael for giving Hawke the mission.

‘I can’t do it, Dom.’ Hawke pointed out. ‘Not without risking my cover.’

‘OK, OK.’ Dom sighed. ‘I’ll call him.’

‘Thanks, Dom.’

‘You just stay safe until we get back. You hear?’

Hawke smiled. There were times when he was reminded how much he loved the old man. ‘Call me as soon as you’re back.’

‘You betcha.’ Dom said.

Hawke said goodbye reluctantly and hung up the phone. He crossed back over to the window and glanced over the forecourt. The grey sedan was still parked on the other side of the motel. He sighed. So what would Ray Hawkins do next, he wondered.

—

Michael was bored. He was standing in an anteroom of the Senate chambers waiting for the Oversight Committee on Intelligence to reconvene and desperately trying to look interested in the dour agent from the CIA who was droning away about something to do with national security. Michael nodded politely and took another sip of coffee from the china cup he held as he scanned the room desperately searching for some excuse to leave. His one good eye affixed on the attractive blond making her way towards him. Her all-white outfit gave away her affiliation with him and Michael was vaguely and amusingly aware that the agent with him stuttered to a halt as she approached.

‘Sir, there’s a call for you.’ Her honeyed tones echoed with the same slow Southern drawl that had once coated Michael’s words.

Michael brushed his moustache and handed her the cup and saucer as she handed him a rosewood cane topped with a silver handle. He excused himself from the other man and followed his aide to a small boardroom further down the corridor.

‘Thank you for the rescue, Amy.’

Amy smiled regretfully. ‘There really is a call for you, sir.’ She gestured at the phone. ‘It’s Mr Santini.’

Michael frowned and took the receiver as he dismissed her. ‘Dominic?’

‘String asked me to call you.’ Dom said shortly.

Michael almost smiled at the grumpy tone; he guessed the older man wasn’t happy with the assignment. ‘Hello to you too, Dominic.’

‘This isn’t a social call, Michael.’ Dom snapped. ‘I’m just calling to let you know String made contact with that guy Rimmington.’

‘Did it go well?’

‘He’s put String on notice for a job.’

‘The weapons?’

‘String seems to think so.’ Dom sighed heavily. ‘He thinks he’s going to have to wait for the job before he’ll be able to find out where the weapons are. Rimmington has someone tailing him.’

Michael felt a sharp bite of worry blossom in his chest and frowned. ‘Is he OK?’

‘For the time being.’ Dom’s own concern coated every word. ‘String thinks Rimmington’s just testing him before the job. He thinks the guy’s gotten a lot more paranoid about things since his time inside.’

‘He’s probably right.’ Michael said taking a seat. ‘Rimmington had to know it was someone in his own organisation that gave him up the last time.’ He stroked his moustache. ‘Does Hawke have a plan?’

‘He thinks Rimmington will lead him to the weapons with this job.’ Dom said. ‘I’m heading back to LA to pick up Caitlin. String thinks he’ll need us backing him when it goes down.’

Some of the anxiety clawing at Michael’s gut eased. ‘OK. Thanks for the update, Dominic. Keep me informed.’

‘Did it even occur to you that they’re getting married in two weeks and didn’t need this?’ Dom blurted out angrily before Michael put the phone down.

‘This is a tactical situation, Dominic. You know what that means.’ Michael returned forcefully.

‘And you know that he’s not doing this because it’s a tactical situation.’ Dom shot back.

There was a brief silence.

‘I’ll be in touch.’ Dom said finally and the connection went dead. Michael was tempted to slam the receiver back down but instead dropped it back into its usual position with careful precision. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. His relationship with Dominic Santini had started out as one of mutual dislike and had slowly turned into one of mutual respect but they still had a tendency to talk at cross purposes at times. He had known the older man would question Michael’s decision given the circumstances.

Had he made the right decision? Hawke hadn’t been an operative for a long time; Rimmington would be suspicious of the timing of Hawke’s return; Hawke was now a personal friend who was about to get married…Michael sighed. It was the latter reason that had caused Michael to second-guess his decision before he’d even called Hawke.

Michael stroked his moustache thoughtfully. He’d had to set friendship aside time after time in his position; he’d never found it as difficult to do as he had this time. The director of the FIRM had told Michael he was getting too close to Hawke and Michael was beginning to agree that his friendship with the pilot was coming close to compromising his ability to do his job; for a moment when he’d been talking to Dom, he’d been tempted to pull the mission. He lurched back to his feet and paced to the window gazing out on the political landscape of Washington sightlessly. It didn’t help to know that if he and Hawke hadn’t evolved such a close friendship that Hawke probably would never have taken the job. It was clear that the pilot had gone back under cover, was risking his life to get the weapons, only as a personal favour to him. Michael sighed.

His own personal feelings and why Hawke was doing the mission aside, Hawke was still the best man to get a lead on the weapons. He knew Rimmington; his cover might be rusty but it was solid, and ultimately, Michael had known Hawke was going to be backed up by his team in the most powerful helicopter in the world. It was the right decision. He turned at a knock on the door.

Amy slid into the room. ‘The Committee are reconvening. They’ve asked for you and Zeus.’

Michael nodded. The hearings had been going on for over a month since the Senate Oversight Committee had declared it was looking to amalgamate some of the agencies and save operating costs. Logically it made sense, Michael thought as he followed Amy from the room and down the hall. In fact, in principle he wasn’t against the idea; there were too many agencies running around trying to do the same job and costing the taxpayer billions of dollars. There would be a public outcry if it was ever discovered exactly how many, mused Michael, especially given that they were all meant to operate under the CIA’s mandate and not as independent bodies at all. In principle he wasn’t against the idea but in practice he was biased; he believed the FIRM was a vital part of the intelligence framework and he didn’t want to see the agency disappear into a larger, more corporate entity. He entered the Senate Committee room and headed for a seat next to Zeus, the director of the FIRM, at the table in front of the Senatorial semi-circle of committee members. He acknowledged the representatives of the other agencies also sat at the table as he sat down.

In his opinion, Michael thought, it was difficult to see how the endless justifications of each agency’s financial accounts, which were being examined in excruciating detail, would help make the Senate Committee make a decision on which would offer the best intelligence to assist in national security. He knew it was opinion that the rest of the agents forced to attend these sessions shared.

Zeus looked up briefly from the papers he was examining and acknowledged his deputy director with a sharp nod. He quietly leaned over to speak to Michael. ‘They’re going to ask about the Airwolf project.’

Michael stiffened imperceptibly. They’d been expecting it but still…he straightened his glasses and leaned back in his chair, the very appearance of relaxed confidence. His determined eye met Zeus’. ‘I’m ready.’

—

Hawke didn’t stay in the motel room after his conversation with Dom; staying still for long wasn’t really in his nature and he figured an early lunch wouldn’t hurt – both to satisfy his hunger and his curiosity. He headed for the diner on the opposite side of the road, grabbed a newspaper from the rack by the door and took a booth at the back with a good view of the door and road. A couple of minutes after he’d sat down and started perusing the laminated menu, the car door of the grey sedan opened and two men walked over to the diner. Hawke was careful to ignore them as they entered and took a booth by the window. It allowed them to keep an eye on him without too much trouble.

‘What can I get you?’ The young waitress snapped her bubble-gum and waited pen poised over the ubiquitous order pad.

Hawke glanced up at her. She was very young still in her teens; waiflike with a shocking streak of pink through what seemed like otherwise reasonably normal pale brown hair. Her eye make-up was a startling clash of pink and green and her lips had been painted purple. Each colour clashed with the sickly yellow uniform she wore; the overall effect was outlandish. He was getting old, he thought, putting the menu back on the table. ‘I’ll take a burger and fries.’ He usually preferred fish to meat but his alter ego, Ray, was the opposite.

‘How’d you want your burger?’

‘Medium rare.’ Hawke said. ‘And I’ll take a coffee.’

‘Sure.’ She headed back to the order counter and he heard her yell it in before she returned a couple of moments later. She put a large mug on the table and filled it to the brim with dark coffee which smelled bitter and strong. Hawke took a tentative sip as she walked away; it was very bitter and strong. He would have pushed it aside but took another gulp instead. A man like Ray wouldn’t have turned it down. He sighed. It was all coming back to him why he’d wanted out of being an operative.

It might sound exciting but pretending to be someone else was draining. Personal preferences were suppressed in favour of those more appropriate to the cover personality and the tension from knowing one wrong choice, one slip could maybe blow the cover wide open was never absent. He’d had enough after a few years; he couldn’t understand how some people could live their whole lives that way. More importantly, he couldn’t understand why his brother would choose to live that way for the better part of his life. The last information he’d had about Saint John had indicated his brother was alive and working as a deep undercover agent for an intelligence agency.

He reached for the newspaper and frowned. The paper was filled with the aftermath of the Challenger accident. He’d piloted a space shuttle; knew the risks. It was a damn shame, he thought. He was half-way through reading the main article when his meal was placed in front of him along with cutlery and condiments. He folded the paper and for the next few minutes concentrated on eating. A sly look to the table where the two men who were following him were sat and he could see they were doing the same. He finished the food without really tasting it; an outcome he believed was preferable. He declined dessert, paid for his meal and left. He’d got what he wanted; he knew exactly what the two men following him looked like and he would be able to recognise them in future.

He headed back to the motel. He figured down-on-his-luck Ray wouldn’t take a chance on screwing up with Rimmington and would do what the man wanted; wait for him to call. Hawke locked the door and put the chain across before he shrugged off his jacket and lay down on the bed. He turned on the TV, flicked to a channel showing some kind of sport but set the volume to low before he turned on his side and closed his eyes. There was no telling when he’d have another opportunity to rest and the set-up meant anyone looking in would only see a man who’d fallen asleep watching the TV.

Sleep eluded him though. His mind raced from the mission to the wedding to his brother…he sighed and turned on his back. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the flickering images on the TV screen without really seeing them.

Something was bothering him and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was…the mission seemed fairly straightforward. Hawke didn’t doubt that Rimmington had stolen the weapons; the man had a knack for acquiring and selling the latest in arms. Like Hawke, he was an intelligent strategist and like Hawke, he wasn’t a man who trusted easily. Hawke had been truthful with Dom when he’d said he’s expected Rimmington would have him followed. The last time, it had taken Hawke six months to get close enough to Rimmington to bring down his operation. He could understand why Michael had asked him to go back under…it would take another agent at least six months to get close to Rimmington and they just didn’t have that kind of time to find the weapons. Hawke rubbed a hand over his face. He was taking a gamble; if this job Rimmington wanted him for wasn’t the weapons…he sighed. It had to be the weapons. If Rimmington led him to the weapons then he had a chance although he had no idea how he was going to pull it off. But if he could get to the weapons, he had a chance especially with Airwolf backing him up. Dom and Caitlin were always there for him. The thought warmed him.

He’d always had Dom. The older man was a stalwart presence in his life; father figure, mentor, flying partner, friend. Hawke seriously couldn’t imagine his life without him and he could no longer imagine his life without Caitlin O’Shaunessy. He couldn’t quite believe that they were about to be married. They’d originally settled into a close friendship before a separation after Caitlin had been shot saving his life had made them realise they both wanted something more. Even so, their relationship hadn’t been without its ups and downs; Hawke grimaced. Just after their engagement, a stunt accident had raised all his fears of losing her and even knowing there was a rift opening between them because of that, he’d then risked their relationship to help an ex-lover. It was something he would never do again. He was lucky Caitlin loved him enough to understand but he had a new resolve; he might continue to struggle with his fears but he wasn’t going to risk losing Caitlin because of them. In two weeks time, they would stand in front of the lake by the cabin they lived in together and marry; she would be his wife and he wouldn’t be alone any longer like he had been since his brother had gone MIA…

The thought caught him off guard and he struggled against the wave of emotion that rushed through him. The information that his brother was alive, that he’d escaped from the Vietcong had been a confirmation of what he’d always believed to be true but the realisation that Saint John had been alive and hadn’t contacted him had been preying on his mind ever since Michael had handed him the folder. Did his brother blame him for leaving him behind in the jungle? Was the lack of contact, putting Hawke through years of searching, not knowing; was that Saint John’s way of punishing him? Hawke sighed. Michael hadn’t had much of a chance to follow up on the information about Saint John. Practically as soon as they’d gotten it, the deputy director had been called to Washington to take part in the Committee hearings.

Hawke turned back on his side and closed his eyes. If he was truthful, he was worried about the Senate Oversight Committee and what they were thinking of doing. He wasn’t overly fond of the FIRM. He’d only worked there as an operative at Michael’s request and had been about to leave when Michael had invited him to join the Airwolf project. Michael had been temporarily reassigned from the project mid-way and the new set-up had favoured Airwolf’s warped creator, Moffett. Hawke had disliked the man and ultimately, their antipathy had led to Hawke leaving the programme. It had been Michael who’d pulled him back in; asked him to recover Airwolf when Moffett had stolen her and then offered him the deal; keep and fly Airwolf on missions of national importance and the FIRM would find Saint John.

Of course the deal suited Michael but Hawke was honest enough to acknowledge it suited him too. He loved flying Airwolf and he knew Michael, deep-down under the worldly spy exterior, was an honourable man and would try his best to keep his word. He was also honest enough to admit that he was worried if the FIRM was amalgamated with another agency, the Airwolf project itself would be discontinued; Michael reassigned and his search for his brother stymied. He sighed and punched the pillow into a more comfortable position. He just had to hope, he thought as he finally felt the pull of sleep, that Michael would be able keep the project alive.

—

Michael rose from the table almost before the Chairman’s gavel had finished the loud bang that signalled a break in the Committee hearing. He’d spent the better part of the day answering questions about the early stages of the Airwolf project; the rationale for an intelligence firm creating the machine; the original budget; the original build…and he knew the more difficult questions were still to come. He smoothed his tie and followed the others into the anteroom. Amy was waiting with a cup of coffee. He took it from her.

‘Any news?’ He asked.

‘Nothing, sir.’

Michael nodded.

‘Archangel.’

Michael turned at the mention of his codename and smiled at the NSA agent grinning back at him. ‘Robert Delaney.’ They shook hands warmly. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘It’s good to see you.’ Delaney said. ‘Although I wish it were in different circumstances.’

‘You’re going to be representing the NSA?’ Michael took a sip of coffee. ‘I thought you were retired.’

‘I am.’ Delaney shrugged. ‘They needed somebody with experience.’

‘I’m glad to have you onboard.’ Michael said.

‘I sat in on the earlier session. You were always incredibly cool under pressure.’

‘They haven’t even got to the difficult questions,’ murmured Michael.

‘How is Hawke?’ asked Delaney. The two men started walking slowly around the room.

‘He’s good.’ Michael said.

‘Helping you out with the Rimmington situation?’

Michael smiled. ‘You have someone on the ground?’

‘Of course but we’re not getting anywhere.’ Delaney said. ‘Rimmington’s paranoid since you put him away the last time. He’s keeping the deal close to his chest.’

‘That’s what I hear.’ Michael said.

‘Every single one of us is running after those weapons and this Senate Committee knows it.’ Delaney commented glancing at the other huddles that were taking place around them. He looked back and smiled at Michael. ‘For what it’s worth, my money’s on your boy.’

Michael was about to reply when he caught the signal from the clerk that it was time to return to the hearing. He and Delaney dutifully filed into the room and Michael retook his seat.

The Chairman was a Senator Mickelson. He was an older senator; he’d been serving his country for over forty years but his mind was sharp as a tack. Michael believed Mickelson wanted the restructuring of the intelligence agencies to be his legacy before he retired from politics. The other members were a mixed bag; all long term serving senators; the Committee was very particular about who it invited to sit. He figured the FIRM had three friends on the Committee and nine others including the Chairman who wanted the FIRM to disappear.

Their main opponent was Senator Gilligan. He had been in the Senate for almost twenty years and he had been a close friend of Senator Dietz, the senator who had been visiting Red Star Control when Moffett has blown the place up and stolen Airwolf. He was leading the questions on the Airwolf project. Michael figured he was aiming to put the project and the FIRM out of business.

‘For the record,’ announced Mickelson, ‘we are now resuming our analysis of the FIRM’s funding specific to the Airwolf project. Senator Gilligan will lead the questions. Please state your names for the record.’

‘Zeus, director of the FIRM.’ Zeus stated firmly.

‘Archangel, deputy director of the FIRM.’ Michael said.

The Chairman nodded at Gilligan to begin.

‘Before the break, Archangel, you accounted for the spending on the Airwolf project during her build and test phase. We had reached the period up to the end of 1983.’ Gilligan pinned Michael with a hard brown stare. ‘There was a massive hike in spending at the end of 1983 which continued into January 1984. Please explain for the record why that was.’

The muscle along Michael’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. ‘During a demonstration Airwolf was stolen from the FIRM by her creator Moffett and his team. He blew up a control tower and laboratory during his escape. The additional expenditure was associated with medical expenses for injured employees and the recovery effort.’

‘How many employees died during that incident?’ Gilligan asked harshly.

‘Fourteen including Senator Dietz.’ Michael admitted. ‘A further twenty-five suffered permanent or serious injury and an additional fifty-eight suffered minor injuries.’

‘And tell me was the…three million dollars spent on the recovery effort successful?’ Gilligan asked.

‘Airwolf was recovered successfully.’ Michael said remaining calm.

‘But not by the FIRM.’

Michael inclined his head. ‘By her original test pilot.’

‘And it is true is it not, Archangel, that the pilot, a Stringfellow Hawke, still refuses to return Airwolf to the FIRM?’

Michael’s heart sank at the question and he wondered how he replied without getting Hawke arrested for treason.

‘That is incorrect.’

Michael’s head snapped round to Zeus surprised by the director’s intervention.

Zeus leaned forward, his hands clasped on the polished wood in front of him. ‘Our agreement with Captain Hawke was that he would recover the aircraft for us and we would find his brother dead or alive.’

‘The Chair recognises Senator Ealy.’ Mickelson intoned.

‘Are you stating for the record Zeus that Captain Hawke’s current ownership of Airwolf is not disputed by the FIRM?’ Ealy, a younger female Senator, stared at the director in disbelief.

‘The agreement between Captain Hawke and the FIRM has never been disputed.’ Zeus said. ‘Captain Hawke is also aware that our agreement never explicitly stated that he would keep Airwolf until we found his brother, although neither did it explicitly state he would not. It is open to interpretation.’

‘Do you have a copy of this agreement for this Committee?’ Gilligan asked.

‘It was a verbal agreement.’ Zeus said smoothly spreading his hands. ‘We have endeavoured to keep to the spirit of the agreement but Captain Hawke is also aware that we would prefer to have Airwolf and seek to relieve him from the burden of looking after her.’

‘Have you actually made any progress in finding his brother?’ Mickelson asked.

Michael nodded. ‘We’ve established that Saint John Hawke was rescued from the Vietcong two and half years after the mission where he went down. We’ve also ascertained that he joined the Special Forces unit that rescued him and continued to do covert operations in Asia until the end of the war. We have a discharge record from the army in the late Seventies and we believe he joined an intelligence agency and went deep undercover.’ He glanced around the assembled group of agents. ‘If anyone is willing to admit to being his employer and where he currently is, I could have Airwolf returned to me in twenty-four hours.’

The other intelligence representatives ducked their heads. Michael’s good eye narrowed thoughtfully. Had he just seen the Company representative duck a little lower than the others?

‘You really think this guy is just going to give Airwolf up?’ Gilligan asked sceptically.

‘There’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll return Airwolf. Stringfellow Hawke is a patriot and an honourable man.’ Michael answered forcefully. ‘It’s the reason why he also agreed to continue to fly Airwolf missions whilst he holds her.’

‘Yes, Airwolf is still being used by the FIRM to fly missions.’ Gilligan stated. ‘The expenditure on armaments, on fuel and maintenance is astounding.’

‘And to the benefit of us all.’ Zeus said. ‘Airwolf has been used extensively to further American interests and in the pursuit of our national security.’

‘And the occasions when Captain Hawke has used her for personal business?’ Gilligan asked. ‘What justification can you offer for those incidents and associated expenditure?’

‘Do you have any specific incident in mind?’ Zeus asked.

There was a moment’s silence. Michael stroked his moustache to hide the small smile that tugged at his lips. Everyone in the room knew that there was no proof that Hawke had ever used Airwolf in a personal mission; Michael had seen to that.

Gilligan cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps we should return to the financial aspects of this project. I see that there was continued spend in 1984 to build a second aircraft?’

‘Yes.’ Zeus confirmed. ‘That is correct. The original plan was to build a fleet of the helicopters.’

‘So having failed to retain control of the first aircraft, you were encouraged to build a second aircraft?’ Gilligan asked scathingly.

‘We believed that the initial success of the missions Captain Hawke had undertaken in Airwolf indicated that a second aircraft would bring us nothing more but additional success.’ Zeus answered.

‘And perhaps you can explain what happened to that aircraft codenamed Airwolf II and also known as Redwolf?’

‘She was stolen by her test pilot, Harlan Jenkins.’ Zeus admitted.

‘There seems to be a recurring theme.’ Gilligan said. ‘Is it bad judgement or just complete incompetence that you keep losing these aircraft?’

‘With respect Senator Gilligan we haven’t lost the first aircraft.’ Michael spoke up. ‘In fact Airwolf was pivotal in resolving the incident with Airwolf II.’

‘Yes,’ Gilligan noted, ‘I understand that Airwolf shot down Airwolf II. It was an expensive resolution.’

Michael and Zeus exchanged a look and both decided to stay silent.

Gilligan perused the sheet of paper in front of him. ‘However, after the Airwolf II incident, spending increased again on the Airwolf project.’

‘We invested more fully in the operational helicopter.’ Michael said.

‘Yes, I can see that in the line items but that isn’t the end of it, is it?’ Gilligan looked up and directly into Michael’s blue eye. ‘Do you deny that you’re building a third Airwolf, Archangel?’

Michael sat back in his seat aware that every eye in the room had turned to look at him. He pushed his wire-frame glasses up his nose and returned the senator’s angry stare with a cool, even one of his own.

‘No,’ he said clearly, ‘I don’t deny it.’

—

The phone was ringing. The shrill tone woke Hawke and one hand reached to silence it even as his other came up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. The room was in darkness; a glance at the radio clock’s neon glow confirmed he’d slept the day away.

‘Yeah.’

‘Hi.’ Caitlin’s Texan drawl, softened with the time she’d spent living in LA, travelled down the phone and warmed him.

‘Hi.’ Hawke fought the bed and struggled to a sitting position. ‘You’re here?’

‘We’re here; pushed Airwolf’s speed threshold a little. Dom’s catching some sleep.’ Caitlin confirmed. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m OK.’ Hawke said. ‘Rimmington hasn’t been in touch yet.’

‘So what’s the plan?’ Caitlin asked.

‘We’re going to have to play this by ear.’ Hawke admitted. ‘Rimmington doesn’t trust anyone very easily.’

‘What do you want us to do?’

‘Stay close. I may not get the chance to let you know I’ve been contacted.’ He heard her sigh. ‘I’m counting on you guys to keep me under surveillance.’

‘Oh, I’m not planning to let you out of my sight.’ Caitlin drawled. ‘We’re about forty-thousand feet above you and not going anywhere.’

His blue eyes flickered to the ceiling. ‘Sorry about dragging you away from the wedding arrangements.’

‘It might be a good thing.’ Caitlin admitted. ‘At least when I’m in Airwolf, my mother can’t call me to check on another detail.’

Hawke smiled. Caitlin’s mother had taken to calling once or twice a day to remind her daughter of some aspect of wedding etiquette or arrangement. He knew it was driving Caitlin nuts and delighting her in equal measure. ‘We should be back in plenty of time for the wedding. Rimmington won’t sit on these weapons for long.’

‘Is that a promise?’ Caitlin teased.

Hawke smiled again. ‘Hey, take care up there.’

‘We will.’ Caitlin said. ‘Stay safe. Contact us when you can.’

Hawke said goodbye and dropped the phone back into the cradle. He stripped as he walked into the bathroom and took a shower. He didn’t bother shaving and walked naked back into the bedroom. He towelled off and dressed. He was pulling the t-shirt over his head when there was a knock on the door. He reached for his gun and had it in his hand by his side as he cracked open the door, keeping the chain attached. The two men who’d been following him stood outside his room.

The thin, brown-haired one smiled at him. ‘Mr Rimmington wants to see you.’

‘And you are?’ Hawke asked.

‘The messenger.’ The thin one gestured. ‘We’re to take you to him now.’

Hawke held the cold brown stare. He gestured for them to take a step back whilst he flicked the chain off. He used the moment of being unseen to slip his gun into his jeans waistband at the small of his back and grabbed his jacket. When he opened the door again, a mere second later he was shrugging into the jacket.

‘I’m ready.’

The car journey was silent and Hawke quickly realised that they were driving in the opposite direction from Rimmington’s house and out to the outskirts of Washington D.C. Hawke kept track of the twists and turns they’d taken in case he needed to find his way back but he hoped Caitlin and Dom were keeping track of him in Airwolf. He’d been told to take the passenger seat but he’d insisted on being in the back claiming he got nauseous in the front. The position gave him the option to shoot his escort and to escape if necessary. He was relieved that many of the instincts that had made him a good operative hadn’t eroded completely. He was lucky, he thought, that he’d been performing Airwolf missions for the last two years; it had kept him sharp.

They pulled into an airfield. It wasn’t one which Hawke was familiar with and he frowned. It looked like a private airstrip. They made their way down a strip of tarmac which ended at the single hangar. It was lit up with bright yellow light that glowed through the darkness. A small plane sat ready in the centre of the hangar but it was the tableau happening on the right side of the aircraft that held Hawke’s attention; Rimmington stood over his bloodied butler who was tied to a chair. A muscled goon stood next to Rimmington, his knuckles torn and ragged. Hawke deduced he was the guy doing the actually beating; Rimmington never had liked getting his own hands dirty.

Hawke shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and followed his escort into the building. His blue eyes flickered to the plane before he gave his full attention to Rimmington. He couldn’t see the weapons anywhere.

‘Hawke. Glad you could make it.’ Rimmington pulled out a silver cigarette case and offered Hawke one.

Hawke shook his head. He’d always refused to smoke as part of his cover stories and he wasn’t going to start now. ‘What’s going on?’ He asked casually.

‘My butler turns out to be a spy.’ Rimmington smiled nastily. ‘He won’t say which agency but I’m guessing CIA or NSA.’ He tapped his cigarette against the case before he placed it in his mouth, put the case away and lit it with the matching lighter. He took a long drag on the tobacco. His pale green eyes met Hawke’s. ‘I want you to shoot him.’

‘Me?’ Hawke didn’t need to act surprised.

‘Yes.’ Rimmington muttered. ‘You.’

‘I think your friend here,’ Hawke’s head nodded at the guy with the bruised knuckles, ‘wants to do it.’

‘Ludo might but I want you to do it.’ Rimmington answered.

Hawke stared back at Rimmington. His mind was racing; he had no idea how he got out of shooting the captured agent without blowing his own cover. ‘You’re testing me.’

‘Give the man a prize.’ Rimmington bit out. ‘Let’s just say I’m a little suspicious of your timing.’

‘You want me to kill him; you’re going to have to find someone else to fly your plane.’ Hawke said firmly. He was going to try and brazen it out, he decided. He’d never gotten involved with the violence when he’d flown for Rimmington before. ‘I’m a pilot not an assassin.’

Rimmington glanced at the thin man who’d been following Hawke. He drew a gun and pointed it at Hawke. ‘If you don’t kill him, I’ll kill you.’

Hawke glanced at the beaten man who looked back at him pitifully. He could see the butler, whoever he really was, believed he was going to die. He’d been caught; his cover was blown and he didn’t expect a rescue. Hawke looked back up at Rimmington. ‘You know I don’t do violence, Rimmington.’

Rimmington smiled and blew out a long stream of smoke. ‘This job is worth over ten million dollars. You’ll get a cut of that once we’ve picked up our cargo, completed the deal and we’re in Mexico. All you need to do is shoot this piece of government crap.’

‘You need me to fly,’ stated Hawke.

Rimmington gestured at Jasper’s friend. ‘Trent here will fly us if I have to dispose of you too.’

Hawke shifted nervously and he surreptitiously looked around the hangar. Jasper and Trent were behind him; Rimmington and his goon in front. Hawke looked again at the man tied to the chair; he was going to be no use to him. There was no room to manoeuvre, Hawke realised. Rimmington had him surrounded and taking on all four men was a death sentence, not to mention he would be left with no idea where the weapons were. He rubbed his chin. He needed to play for time.

‘OK. I’ll kill him.’ Hawke said.

Rimmington crushed his cigarette out under one designer clad foot. ‘Give him your gun, Jasper.’

The thin man handed Hawke his weapon. Hawke shook his head and kept his gaze on Rimmington. ‘Not that way. It’s too messy. Leaves too much evidence for the cops.’ He gestured at the plane. ‘Let’s load him up. We can drop him off on the way.’

Rimmington’s green eyes narrowed on Hawke. ‘That’s a fascinating idea but I’d prefer it if you just shot him.’

Hawke stared at Rimmington for a long moment. He whirled suddenly, grabbed the gun and without seeming to think about it, swivelled and shot the guy in the chair. The man slumped to the side unconscious. A red stain spread across his left chest and shoulder.

Jasper walked over to the agent and shoved his fingers against the guy’s neck. ‘He’s still alive.’

Hawke shrugged. ‘Unless you’re planning on calling an ambulance he soon will be.’ He hoped Caitlin or Dom would pick up on the hint and would call the authorities. He had deliberately aimed for a part of the body where he knew he wouldn’t hit anything vital. The agent had a chance at least. He handed the gun back to Jasper.

‘I’ll finish him off.’ Trent offered.

‘No.’ Rimmington intervened. ‘Leave him. He deserves a slow, painful death.’ He checked his watch. ‘We need to leave now if we’re to make the exchange.’ He gestured at the aircraft. ‘Everyone into the plane.’ He looked at Hawke. ‘I’ll give you a heading when we get airborne.’

Hawke nodded and headed for the cockpit. He got settled into the small seat and ran through a pre-flight check. Everything seemed in order. Rimmington took the seat next to him; Jasper and the other two men took jump seats in the cargo section. Hawke checked the doors were shut and locked before he taxied out to the short runway.

Moments later he was in the air. Rimmington was true to his word and gave him a heading. They were flying due North.

‘Where are we going?’ Hawke asked when they’d been flying for a while.

‘To a meeting.’ Rimmington said shortly.

They flew for fifteen minutes before Rimmington pulled at Hawke’s sleeve and pointed at the ground. Flares appeared suddenly marking a makeshift runway on a road. Hawke frowned and concentrated on the landing. With any luck this was where they picked up the cargo of weapons. He hoped like hell that Caitlin and Dom were still following him. He landed and taxied to a halt. The wing lights and flares illuminated the road and he could see the dark shape of a truck coming towards them.

Rimmington patted his shoulder. ‘Stay in the plane and keep the engines running. We’ll be taking off soon.’

Hawke nodded. He watched as Rimmington and two of the other men walked over to meet the truck. Jasper stayed in the cockpit with Hawke and the pilot figured Rimmington still didn’t trust him. He frowned. Rimmington was gesturing at the truck driver angrily. There seemed to be quite an exchange going on but it was too dark to read lips. Hawke wished he was back in Airwolf with the audio scan picking up every word. He straightened. Rimmington was on his way back and the truck…the truck was driving away. Rimmington got back in his seat.

‘Let’s go.’

Hawke manoeuvred the plane and seconds later was back in the air. He was about to ask for a heading when Rimmington supplied him with one. They went through the same drill at another two locations and Hawke was beginning to think the whole exercise was another test as they headed to the fourth location.

He was relieved to see it was an actual airstrip and he landed the plane easily on the well-lit runway before taxiing to a stop outside a large hangar in front of two helicopters. Hawke looked at them uneasily noting the modifications; rocket launchers had been attached to both helicopters and they weren’t any kind of rocket launcher he’d seen before; Michael’s prototypes, he thought. They had found the weapons.

Rimmington followed Hawke’s gaze. ‘Fascinating, aren’t they?’

‘I haven’t seen anything like them.’ Hawke admitted.

‘New armour piercing rockets and launchers.’ Rimmington said with satisfaction. ‘Specially purloined from the navy.’ He gestured out of the cockpit window at the sight of the two cars approaching. ‘And this will be our buyers. Come on.’

Hawke took the headset off and followed Rimmington out of the plane. He frowned. There were another four men walking out of the hangar to join them. They were wearing flight suits and Hawke deduced they were there to fly the helicopters and provide a demonstration of the rockets capabilities. He tried to peer into the hangar without being too obvious and almost sighed in relief at the sight of the military boxes stacked in one corner. All the weapons were here. It was going to be messy getting out, he thought. The two cars had pulled up and another eight men had joined the party; four buyers and their protective muscle.

Rimmington moved forward and greeted his customers. Hawke remembered one fat, balding man from the last time he’d worked undercover; they were all middle-men, agents for terrorist groups or unfriendly governments. Hawke rubbed his chin thoughtfully; he needed a plan.

‘Thank you for coming, gentlemen.’ Rimmington’s educated accent travelled back through the night air to Hawke. ‘We will be providing you with an interesting demonstration and then we’ll be taking your bids. The lucky owner of these new weapons will have them delivered immediately afterwards to a location of their choice.’ He waved at the plane and Hawke before turning back to his guests. ‘So shall we start gentlemen?’

The four helicopter pilots headed for their aircraft and Hawke followed after Rimmington reluctantly. There was no way he could arrange an exit, call Michael and have the FIRM come in; there was just no time. He resisted the urge to scan the sky above for Airwolf. He doubted if Dom and Caitlin had already called the authorities; they would be able to see it would be a bloodbath and they wouldn’t want him caught in the middle of it. If he was in the Lady, it would be relatively simple to blow the place up; the weapons would be destroyed but at least they wouldn’t be falling into the wrong hands. What he needed, he thought, was a distraction.

They had come to a stop by a viewing platform and Rimmington was handing out night-vision goggles. Hawke ignored the general laughter that the goggles elicited as the buyers and Rimmington’s men put them on.

‘You not wearing yours?’ Jasper asked quietly seeing the goggles dangling from Hawke’s hand.

Hawke shrugged. ‘I’m not the one who needs to be impressed by whatever these things are.’

Jasper nodded sagely. ‘You might want to stick them on anyway. Wouldn’t want to upset the boss.’

Hawke frowned as Jasper moved away and he looked at the goggles with narrowed eyes. The goggles gave him an idea but how did he make it happen? He took a couple of paces back from the group towards Jasper’s silent friend, Trent. The guy was a blond, very muscular in shape but he was also holding his goggles and not wearing them. Maybe if he struck up a conversation with the guy, Dom and Cait would hear him and follow up on his hint.

Hawke’s head tilted; the helicopters were taking off. He had to do something quickly. Hawke gestured at the silent man.

‘I guess we’re the only ones not wearing them.’ Hawke said in a friendly tone.

‘They make me sick.’ The blond admitted with a rueful smile. ‘Just doesn’t seem right things glowing green.’

‘I know what you mean.’ Hawke held out his hand. ‘I’m Ray Hawkins. Most people call me Hawke. You’re Trent right?’

‘Right.’ Trent shook Hawke’s hand. ‘Jasper’s a real whiz at this stuff but not me.’

Hawke nodded slowly. ‘I’m pretty useless at using these things. I remember one time in ‘Nam, we were all using these goggles and some idiot sent up a flare. Damn near blinded all of us.’ Please, he thought desperately at the sky, drop a sunburst.

‘You were in ‘Nam?’

‘Yeah.’ Hawke continued hoping his oblique instruction hadn’t gone unnoticed. ‘I was…’

There was the merest howl of engines before the zinging sound of one sunburst, then another being released and suddenly the area was lit up. Hawke shielded his arms and started to back out the area as Rimmington and the rest of the men gave startled cries and yanked the goggles off.

Trent was the only other one not affected by the light but he jumped to a simple conclusion. ‘It’s the cops!’ He yelled and began running back to the plane.

Hawke went in the opposite direction back inside the hangar but realised his mistake as the others followed him inside the hangar; he was trapped. He ducked out of sight behind the crates and watched as the customers ran back towards their cars despite Rimmington’s best efforts to prevent them from leaving. The arms dealer was furious as he watched the cars screech away from the hangar. Hawke shifted back into the darkness of the shadows as Rimmington whirled in his direction.

‘Call those helicopters! I want them to find out what that was! There must be something else up there!’ Rimmington yelled at Jasper who nodded and walked over to the radio unit at the other side of the hangar. ‘You!’ He stabbed a finger at Ludo. ‘Get Trent and Hawke back from the plane! Now!’

Ludo shuffled off in the direction of the plane and Hawke knew he had moments before his absence was going to be discovered. He crept around the crates and estimated the distance to the back door of the hangar. He glanced back and swore. Ludo and Trent were already on their way back.

‘The helicopters are starting a search pattern.’ Jasper said. ‘They’re not picking anything up on radar though.’

‘Maybe it was fireworks.’ Trent suggested.

Rimmington’s head snapped round to him. Whatever reply he had been about to make to Trent’s suggestion was arrested as he suddenly took a head count. ‘Where’s Hawke?’ He demanded.

Trent’s head swivelled from side to side as though he’d only just realised Hawke wasn’t with him. ‘He was standing right next to me when those flares went off, boss.’

‘You two, take the night goggles and search outside for him.’ Rimmington ordered throwing two of the discarded goggles at Ludo and Jasper. ‘When you find him bring him to me. Trent, start the plane up.’

All three men ran to do his bidding. Rimmington reached for his cigarette case and walked back out to the viewing platform. Hawke decided it was his best time to move. He slowly started out from the crates, keeping in a low crouch. He made it to the door and glanced back; there was no sign of either Rimmington or his men. He started to ease the door open. He started through…the blow to his head was fast and sharp. He gave a grunt of pain as he fell to the floor. He was dazed but he staggered to his feet and in the half-light from the hangar doorway found himself looking into the barrel of Rimmington’s gun. He straightened slowly to meet the other man’s eyes which glinted dangerously in the darkness.

‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ Rimmington said conversationally. ‘You’re the reason I got arrested in Panama. Who are you? Another agent?’

Hawke took a breath and tried to focus his vision. ‘You’re not going to get away with killing two agents in one night. They’ll hunt you down.’

‘You’ve ruined everything.’ Rimmington snarled. ‘I would have had the money and left by now if it wasn’t for you.’

‘Fine.’ Hawke took a couple of large steps back and held his arms out wide. ‘Shoot me then.’

Rimmington aimed.

Airwolf screamed defiantly as she descended out of the night sky between the two men. Hawke ducked behind the helicopter, keeping a safe distance from her tail rotor as she went nose to nose with the arms dealer.

Rimmington shielded his face with his arms from the dust and dirt that swirled around him. He tried to see through the cloud into the machine in front of him but all he saw was darkness and shadow. He took a step back.

Hawke kept low; his head angled to the sky. The modified helicopters were approaching. Airwolf had been exposed when she’d moved to save him. He inched forward and stopped as someone stepped out of the hangar door. Jasper. Hawke sighed in frustration. He just couldn’t get a break…his eyes widened as the thin man raised his gun behind the oblivious Rimmington and struck him down. Jasper ran up to join him.

‘I’m NSA.’ He shouted as Hawke ran around to the cockpit door and held it open.

‘Thanks for the assist.’ Hawke yelled over the noise of the rotors and engine.

‘No problem.’ Jasper shouted back. ‘Bob Delaney sends his regards.’

Hawke gestured for the NSA agent to climb aboard and was pleased when Jasper moved quickly into the back of the helicopter. Hawke climbed into the counter-measures specialist chair at the front and slammed the door shut.

Caitlin grasped the cyclic and took Airwolf back up. Rimmington was staggering to his feet in front of them. She moved away quickly but the helicopters were following them.

‘Caitlin,’ Dom said urgently from his position at the engineer’s console, ‘we’ve picked up a tail. Two helicopters armed with rocket launchers.’

‘They’re modified with those prototypes.’ Hawke warned as he got his helmet on.

‘You mean they’re going to be firing armour piercing missiles at us?’ Dom’s voice rose sharply.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke glanced over at Caitlin. ‘I’ll take over, Cait.’

‘Sure.’ She relinquished the controls without an argument; Hawke had more combat experience than her and whilst she rated her abilities she didn’t really want them tested when they were up against prototype missiles they knew little about.

‘Dom, call the FIRM. Tell them the coordinates of that airfield and tell them to get people out to secure the weapons.’ Hawke grasped the stick and immediately swung them in a wide circle. He was dimly aware of Dom’s voice radioing the FIRM. One of the helicopters fired a rocket.

‘Sunburst.’ Hawke ordered.

‘Sunburst.’ Dom confirmed.

Hawke blinked as his vision blurred again. He reached up and snapped down the visor. He ascended before turning back and coming down behind the two helicopters. One of them broke right; he stayed on the other one. The automatic targeting system locked onto the aircraft in front of them.

‘Missile.’ Hawke called.

‘Missile.’ Dom’s voice was steady as a rock.

Hawke fired. The helicopter exploded in front of them. Hawke sent Airwolf to the left.

‘Where’s that other chopper?’

The sharp rattle against the tail answered his question. ‘He’s got another rocket off at us.’ Dom noted. ‘Releasing sunburst.’ His eyes widened at the computer monitor. ‘It didn’t take the sunburst. Evade!’

Hawke sent Airwolf right and fired another missile at the hill they were flying rapidly towards. He skipped through the flames and over the ridge; the explosion fooled the rocket and it impacted the burning vegetation behind them. Hawke pulled back on the stick. Airwolf climbed sharply into the sky. He came back down and settled back behind the helicopter. He blinked as the red flashing target blurred and he forced himself to focus. It was locked; he fired. The helicopter went up in smoke and fire. Hawke breathed out and swung Airwolf back around towards the airfield.

‘Cait, you’d better take the controls.’

Her hands immediately took the stick and cyclic whilst her blue-green eyes shot worriedly to his. ‘You OK?’

‘My vision’s a little blurry.’ He admitted grudgingly. ‘We need to stop Rimmington’s plane from leaving.’

‘On it.’ Caitlin said. She forced her concern for him to the back of her mind and peered through the cockpit as they neared the airfield. The plane was taxiing down the runway. Caitlin didn’t hesitate, she moved Airwolf into a direct intercept position, flying right at the plane. It couldn’t take off with Airwolf in her flight path. Caitlin’s fingers pressed on the trigger and the chain-guns sent a barrage of gun-fire in front of the plane which lurched to a stop. Caitlin hovered over the plane and flicked on the radio.

‘Gentlemen, you are under arrest. Remain seated in the plane or I will be forced to fire on you.’ Caitlin said calmly.

They could hear the approaching sirens and it wasn’t long before police cars had surrounded the plane below them. A FIRM helicopter landed in front of the hangar and the agent waved at Airwolf.

Caitlin landed beside the plane as Hawke watched Rimmington being led away in handcuffs below. He sighed in satisfaction.

Caitlin glanced over at him. ‘We should get you examined by a paramedic.’

‘It’s just a concussion.’ Hawke said dismissively.

‘So we should see a doctor and get that confirmed.’ Caitlin argued.

‘I’m fine.’ Hawke insisted. He caught her worried eyes with his. ‘I’m fine.’ He repeated softly.

Caitlin pursed her lips but stopped arguing.

‘This machine is incredible.’ Jasper said speaking up for the first time since they’d climbed aboard.

Hawke turned to look at the NSA agent. ‘Thanks for your help.’

‘I don’t think you needed it.’ Jasper said. ‘But this has been great.’ His eyes looked around the cockpit in awe. ‘Do you know if the other agent made it?’

Dom nodded. ‘He’s fine. The ambulance got to him in time.’

‘That was some shot you made.’ Jasper said looking at Hawke who shrugged. Jasper sighed at the multitude of law enforcement gathering outside the helicopter. ‘I’d better go and make a statement.’

Hawke nodded and climbed out to let Jasper leave. They shook hands solemnly as the FIRM agent, an older Asian woman, approached.

‘We have things under control here, Mr Hawke.’ She shoved her hands in the vast pockets of her white coat. ‘You can leave.’

‘Thanks.’ Hawke said wryly. He got back into Airwolf and settled back into his seat. He glanced back at Dom and then at Caitlin. ‘Let’s go home.’

Dom laughed. ‘Now that’s the best idea you’ve had since we got here.’

—

The moments following Michael’s admission of building a third helicopter were total chaos. The gavel had been banged almost incessantly and the calls for order ignored as the Senate Committee members and the representatives for the agencies yelled questions and demanded answers without any regard to the formal proceedings. Eventually, faced with stony silence from Zeus and Archangel, the noise quietened and Mickelson regained control of the hearing. He immediately called a recess.

Michael made his way swiftly out of the hearing chamber and came to a surprised halt at the sight of Amy waiting for him.

‘News?’ He asked.

She nodded and he followed her into the small boardroom they had used earlier. His anxiety escalated as they walked the short distance in silence. Had Hawke made it out OK? He frowned. He should be thinking about the weapons.

‘Report.’ He said crisply once the door was closed behind them. His worry was evident in the tense lines of his face, the way he held his breath.

‘Hawke called sir. They radioed in a short time ago with the coordinates of the weapons and Rimmington. Ling confirmed the mission was a success. The weapons are in our custody and we have arrested Rimmington.’ Amy started to dial the Airwolf number. ‘Airwolf also shot down two helicopters Rimmington had already modified with the prototypes and saved two NSA agents.’ She handed him the receiver.

Michael took it with a pleased smile. ‘Hawke?’

‘Michael.’ Hawke’s acknowledgement was shaded with tiredness and irritation. It warmed Michael’s heart.

‘Congratulations.’

‘Thank you.’ Hawke returned grumpily. ‘If that’s all…’

‘No. I wanted to thank you, Hawke, all of you.’ Michael interrupted him.

‘Excuse me?’ Dom’s gruff tone was filled with surprised laughter. ‘Did I hear you just thank us? Is this my birthday?’

‘Funny, Dominic.’ Michael rejoined without heat. ‘I know this was beyond the call of duty.’ He could imagine the amused looks being exchanged amongst the Airwolf crew and cleared his throat. ‘Have a safe trip back.’

‘Whoa, wait a minute.’ Caitlin’s words arrested his movement to hang up. ‘Are you coming to the wedding? I really need to know for the numbers.’

‘I’ll be there.’ Michael smiled. ‘I wouldn’t miss it.’ His smile widened. ‘Angelina’s looking forward to being a flower girl.’

‘We’re looking forward to seeing her again.’ Caitlin said.

Michael made his goodbyes and hung up. He tapped his cane thoughtfully on the ground. Hawke had gone beyond the call of duty for him and what was Michael doing whilst he did? Michael scowled. He was defending his decision to build a third Airwolf, a machine that would ultimately remove the FIRM’s dependency on Hawke and the original helicopter; a machine that would ultimately mean the FIRM could stop looking for Saint John Hawke. His gut clenched. It had never been his intention to stop looking for Hawke’s brother…the FIRM’s maybe…but would the pilot – would his friend ever believe that?

Keeping the build of the third Airwolf secret from Hawke had never sat well with him. With each passing month, with every new instance that Hawke had come through for him, he’d questioned his decision to maintain the secrecy. When Hawke had rescued his daughter and had saved him in Russia, he’d been close to telling the pilot the truth but the moment had passed. Now that the project was out in the open inasmuch as it had been discussed at the Senate Committee hearing, maybe it was a sign for him to come clean…it was something he needed to seriously consider, Michael thought as he made his way back to the antechamber.

Robert Delaney was the first to reach him. He handed him a cup and saucer. ‘I figured you’d need this.’

‘Thank you, Robert.’

‘I heard the FIRM just found the missing armour piercing weapons and arrested Rimmington.’ Delaney said in a loud voice bringing the other agency representatives conversation to a halt. ‘Congratulations.’

‘Thank you.’ Michael’s eye twinkled. Delaney knew the NSA’s position was secure but he wasn’t above stirring the pot for the other agencies. The recovery of the armour piercing weapons was a big success for the FIRM. Michael looked over at the clerk who was gesticulating wildly at them. ‘I think we’re due back in.’

They obediently made their way back into the Committee room. The Senate members were already gathered around their semi-circle. Mickelson called for order as the intelligence representatives took their places. When the noise had abated and silence fell, he glared at the two representatives from the FIRM from his position in the smartest chair in the middle of the semi-circle.

‘Before the recess you confirmed that you are building another Airwolf. Is that right?’ Mickelson asked incredulous. He had expected the usual evasion and half-truth; he had expected that Gilligan would have entrapped them; that the FIRM had come clean immediately was astounding to him.

‘Haven’t you learned your lesson from the other two?’ Gilligan snapped unable to contain himself.

Mickelson gave him a sharp look before he turned back to Archangel and Zeus. ‘It’s a fair question. What makes you think a third attempt to build the aircraft will end anymore successfully than the first two?’

Michael cleared his throat. ‘If I can provide a more comprehensive answer perhaps to why we decided to progress with building another helicopter?’

Mickelson nodded and gestured impatiently for Michael to continue.

Michael took a sip of water and leaned forward across the table earnestly. ‘After the incident with Airwolf II, it became clear that the original Airwolf would be quickly overtaken by new technology, new armaments and would eventually be outclassed, probably sooner rather than later.’ He smoothed his tie and gathered his thoughts. ‘There were two possible solutions; one was to completely upgrade the original machine and to continue to upgrade her as technology became available and could be adapted to her systems. The second was to design a completely new aircraft that would become the next generation of her class.’ He paused. ‘In the end we decided to do both.’

‘So this third machine is not a copy?’ Gilligan clarified.

‘Exactly.’ Michael said enthusiastically. ‘The third Airwolf will be a significant leap forward in terms of technology and design. The spirit of her design is very much in keeping with Airwolf but she will be a new machine.’

‘My question still stands; how can you possibly expect to keep control of this aircraft after the events surrounding the other two?’ Gilligan growled into his microphone.

‘Because we have learned from the mistakes of the past.’ Michael said forcefully. ‘All the staff we have working on the project are given detailed background checks. Further we run psychological profiles on each individual from the senior manager right down to the cleaning staff. Additionally we have a sophisticated security system. At the present time no individual apart from a selected few have sight of the whole design and no individual has access to all information.’

Some of the Committee members exchanged looks. Gilligan gestured. ‘And what happens when you have to test the machine? A pilot will be required, presumably?’

‘Yes.’ Michael admitted. ‘When we get to the testing stage the choice of pilot will be critically important.’

‘And how are you going to make sure that the pilot doesn’t steal the aircraft this time?’

‘Firstly, there will trackers and a remote destruct mechanism inbuilt into the machine. The pilot will be unaware of the codes to disarm either.’ Michael stroked his moustache. ‘Secondly, the flight team will go through an extensive selection process and the commander of the team will be someone who has a proven track record with prototypes.’ Michael paused. He ignored Zeus’ frantic signals for him to be quiet before he quietly admitted. ‘My preference would be to use Stringfellow Hawke.’

The room erupted.

‘Quiet!’ Mickelson yelled and slammed the hammer down again and again. ‘Let me get this straight.’ He pointed the hammer at Michael. ‘You want to entrust a new helicopter to the same man who is currently holding the original hostage?’

‘I believe we covered why Hawke still has the original helicopter earlier,’ Michael answered mildly, ‘and in my mind by the time we’re ready to test the new machine that situation should be resolved. Further I don’t know of any other man best suited to the job.’

Delaney gestured to be recognised and a speechless Mickelson recognised him.

‘I agree with Archangel. Captain Hawke is the best and most qualified person to fly a machine of this nature.’

‘Well thank you for your opinion…’ Mickelson began.

‘If you’ll let me finish, Senator.’ Delaney said strongly. ‘My opinion is offered not just as someone who has worked with Captain Hawke but also as a member of the taskforce that was put together last year to recover Airwolf.’

Mickelson’s gaze snapped to him. ‘You were part of the taskforce?’

‘I was.’ Delaney confirmed. ‘Hawke is undoubtedly the best person to test pilot another Airwolf. He had extensive experience and he is probably the best damn pilot we have in the United States. Both the Airforce and Army struggled to find a pilot who could keep up with him.’ He glanced over at Michael. ‘If you need any further evidence of the man’s patriotism, in the last twenty-four hours, Hawke has risked his life to return to an undercover assignment in order to secure the recovery of a new prototype armour piercing rocket.’ His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. ‘He concluded his mission successfully this evening leading to the return of the weapons and to the arrest of the arms dealer.’

‘Captain Hawke’s integrity is not in question here.’ Gilligan snapped.

‘You’ll excuse me, Senator.’ Delaney said smoothly. ‘But I would respectfully disagree.’

‘Regardless of the choice of pilot,’ Mickelson said, ‘the issue still remains whether the money spent on a new Airwolf is a good investment or not.’

The director of the Company, an intelligence agency with a number of similarities to the FIRM, motioned to be recognised. ‘Senator, no intelligence agency in this room would refuse the opportunity to control an aircraft with the abilities of Airwolf. Her surveillance capability alone is worth the investment and that’s before her offensive and defensive advantages are even considered.’ His eyes slid to Zeus and Michael. ‘Do I question whether the FIRM has the ability to prevent another theft? Yes. Do I question whether the choice of pilot is sound despite Agent Delaney’s resounding character reference? Yes. But do I question whether Airwolf is worth the investment? No.’ He gestured at his colleagues. ‘And anyone who says any different in this room would be lying.’

Zeus and Michael exchanged a look. The Company had a very similar background to the FIRM. It had been established before the Civil War and had survived the formation of the CIA to continue to act independently. It has a tighter directive than the FIRM and it restricted its activities to pure intelligence work. The FIRM agents often crossed swords with the Company out in the field, especially in Eastern Europe which was the Company’s major focus. The support from the Company’s director was a little startling.

Mickelson cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps we can continue with the financial investigation. Senator Gilligan?’

Michael gave an inward sigh of relief and dragged his attention back to the proceedings as Gilligan questioned the expenditure on Airwolf’s maintenance. A few more questions and the Committee moved on. Their examination of the Airwolf project was over.

—

Michael watched as his ten year old daughter ran across the lawn at the back of his LA home, the young Labrador puppy bounding after her. He shoved a hand in the pocket of his white slacks and watched her contentedly for a moment. The sun was shining and Angelina’s blond hair gleamed gold as she and the dog played with a Frisbee. It was good to be back from Washington, he thought as more of the tension that had seemed lodged in his muscles for weeks eased.

‘She really loves that dog.’ Marella, his senior aide, commented from her position at the patio table. Her fingers were surreptitiously brushing the brown dog hairs from her skirt.

‘Yes, she does.’ Michael slipped into a patio chair and picked up a white china cup. He took an appreciative sip of the dark bitter coffee. ‘I’ve been meaning to thank you for finding him and for shipping him to Washington for Christmas.’ His good eye twinkled at the Hawaiian woman. ‘Actually I’ve been meaning to thank you for covering everything here. You’ve done an outstanding job.’

Marella shrugged pleased with the praise. She tapped the stack of folders in front of her. ‘You may think otherwise when you see what I’ve done.’

‘I trust your judgement.’ Michael said easily. ‘Is there anything urgent?’

‘Not particularly.’ Marella admitted. ‘We registered an upsurge of communications activity just after the Challenger accident but our sources are confirming that sabotage was unlikely.’ She sighed. ‘It’s looking like a tragic accident.’

Michael nodded. ‘And the Airwolf project?’

‘The design work is going well. Dorothea Connolly is settling in and making a real difference. The woman’s a genius with aeronautical engineering. She and Karen Hansen make a good team.’

‘Excellent.’ Michael frowned and stared at his daughter as she played with the dog. He rubbed his moustache thoughtfully.

Marella scanned the tense features. She’d worked with Michael for a long time and knew when something was bothering him. ‘You’re thinking about telling Hawke.’ She stated quietly.

Michael’s good eye shot back to her. ‘I think it’s time.’

‘The project is meant to be confidential,’ began Marella.

‘He’s earned the right to expect me to be honest with him, Marella.’ Michael stated. ‘Especially over something like this.’

‘He’s not going to like it.’ Marella said.

Michael sighed. ‘I don’t blame him.’ He gestured. ‘For the last year I’ve effectively been running a project that would eliminate his ability to force the FIRM to find his brother. I wouldn’t like it.’ He had no idea if admitting to the truth would damage his relationship with the pilot irreparably.

Marella sighed. ‘I have to admit it would be good having the project out in the open. I’ve felt pretty uncomfortable keeping it from Hawke, from all of them.’

‘We’ve done what’s best for the FIRM.’

‘It’s still best for the FIRM if we don’t tell him.’ Marella reminded him. She had never known Michael to place any relationship, anything above his loyalty to the FIRM and his country. Her eyes flickered to the little girl chasing about on the lawn; his daughter was possibly the only exception.

‘I know that, Marella.’ He sighed. ‘I just have to find someway to convince Hawke that the project means we won’t stop searching for his brother.’

‘We have spent an enormous amount of time searching for Saint John.’ Marella pointed out.

‘And most of it in the wrong place.’ Michael returned. He pointed at her. ‘You know the Company director got very cagey when I challenged them on Saint John.’

Marella frowned. ‘The Company operates primarily in Eastern Europe. I thought we believed Saint John Hawke was running missions for an intelligence agency in Asia.’

‘The Company was heavily involved back in ‘Nam.’ Michael said. ‘They provided a lot of the intelligence coming out of Cambodia and Laos. They had ties through the Russians to the Vietcong that we could never get near.’

‘You really think the Company have Saint John.’ Marella realised surprised.

‘I think it’s a distinct possibility they know where he is. Whether he’s an operative for them or not…’ Michael shrugged.

‘Would you like me to set up a meeting?’ Marella asked.

‘No.’ Michael said. ‘Let’s do some digging first. I’d like to get some concrete proof before I confront them.’

‘Yes sir.’

The briefcase on the table beeped and Marella picked up the receiver answering the summons crisply. She immediately handed it to Michael. ‘It’s Zeus, sir.’

Michael took the phone reluctantly. Zeus had remained in Washington for the announcement of the Senate Oversight Committee’s recommendations. ‘Archangel here.’

‘Archangel.’ Zeus sighed. ‘It’s not good news.’

‘How bad?’ Michael asked.

‘They’re recommending that the FIRM is amalgamated with another agency.’

Michael was silent as he absorbed the news although his fingers tapped restlessly against the table; the only sign of his unrest. ‘Do we know which agency will take us over?’

‘The Company.’

Michael’s eyebrows rose sharply and he had to restrain the urge to check he’d heard correctly. ‘When?’

‘From July if approved.’ Zeus’ sounded suddenly tired. ‘They’re giving us one last opportunity to make our case for remaining independent.’

‘Do you need me?’ Michael offered.

‘I think it would be best if you didn’t attend.’ Zeus said. ‘I don’t want them distracted with Airwolf or with Stringfellow Hawke.’

‘I understand.’ Michael murmured.

‘I’m not sure you do.’ Zeus said sharply. ‘What possessed you to mention Hawke as a possible candidate for the test pilot position on the new helicopter?’

‘Because he’s the best man for the job.’ Michael returned firmly.

‘Maybe so,’ Zeus allowed, ‘but I’ve warned you before how your personal relationship with him clouds your judgement.’ There was a brief pause. ‘And do not tell Hawke about this new Airwolf project.’

Michael pushed his glasses back up his nose angrily. He was tempted to check for listening devices in the vicinity but knew the director was working from a well-honed knowledge of how Michael operated. ‘It would be best if he knew.’

‘Best for whom?’ Zeus argued. ‘Telling him will only reduce our negotiating position with him and you know that, Michael. I also don’t want you telling him about this merger.’

Michael seethed silently.

‘I want your word, Michael.’ Zeus insisted. ‘I want your word that you won’t tell him.’

Michael remained quiet.

‘Michael.’ Zeus pressed. ‘This is a direct order. I don’t want Hawke to know.’

‘Fine.’ Michael bit out. ‘You have my word. I won’t tell Hawke about the merger with the Company or the new project.’

Zeus sighed with relief. ‘I’ll be in touch after the presentation.’

Michael replaced the receiver into the briefcase and scowled furiously at it.

‘The Company?’ Marella checked.

‘Damn!’ Michael pushed the briefcase away.

Marella almost flinched at the icy look in his good eye. ‘How bad is it for us?’

Michael shrugged. ‘They want the new Airwolf project so I think we’ll be OK.’ He sighed remembering the Company director’s words at the hearing. ‘I don’t think they’re sympathetic to Hawke though.’

‘You don’t think they’ll honour our deal with him?’

‘I think if they’ve got Saint John Hawke working for them as an operative somewhere they’ll do everything to protect that secret.’ Michael stated. ‘Hawke won’t be able to get near to the information about his brother.’ His lips firmed. ‘They’ll probably keep a pretence of the deal going whilst the new project is completed and then cut him loose.’ His stomach churned. As a spy he understood their logic; as Hawke’s friend…as Hawke’s friend he couldn’t sit back and watch it happen. Angelina caught his eye. He didn’t owe the Company any loyalty; he owed Hawke everything…

Marella saw the decision in the firming of his jaw, the way his good eye sharply focused and iced over with determination. He was really going to do it; after years of loyal service, he was going to risk everything for Hawke. She sighed. ‘You’re going to tell him.’

‘Hawke deserves to know the truth,’ Michael stated in a firm voice, ‘both about the project and about the merger.’

‘But telling him is a huge risk, sir.’ Marella pointed out. ‘If he takes it badly…’

‘Then whatever he throws at me won’t be undeserved.’ Michael picked up his coffee cup again. ‘He’s risking his life every time we give him a mission and we’re repaying that with building a machine that may take away his only chance of finding his brother.’ He gestured angrily with the cup. ‘A chance that just got a deadline on it now we’re going to be taken over.’

‘There’s still a chance we won’t be.’ Marella argued.

Michael simply arched one elegant eyebrow.

‘OK,’ Marella conceded, ‘so it’s unlikely we won’t be but there’s still the risk Hawke won’t understand.’

‘I know.’

‘And you still want to tell him?’ Marella asked.

Michael nodded.

‘Why?’ She asked plaintively.

‘Because,’ Michael said simply, ‘if our positions were reversed, he would never keep the information from me.’ He smiled sadly. ‘Because he would put our friendship first and maybe…maybe it’s time I did the same.’

Marella stared at him. The significance of the choice he was making wasn’t lost on her. ‘But didn’t Zeus just give you a direct order not to tell Hawke?’ She asked trying to get him to see sense from a different perspective. ‘If you tell him you’ll be subject to disciplinary action.’

‘Maybe.’ Michael admitted.

Marella sighed as she took in his resolve. ‘Maybe not.’

Michael looked at her questioningly.

‘I’ll tell Hawke.’ Marella offered.

‘Marella…’ Michael shook his head. ‘I can’t ask you to do that.’

‘You’re not asking.’ She said. ‘I’m offering. Truthfully, I’ve never felt right about leaving Hawke in the dark about this either and besides,’ her dark eyes meeting his squarely, ‘I think you know that my loyalty is with you not to the FIRM.’ Her heart seemed to be beating a little too fast, she thought as she held her breath.

Michael held her gaze for a heartbeat before he reached across the table and took her hand in his. ‘Thank you, Marella.’

She gave him a pleased smile. ‘Don’t thank me yet. Hawke might end up killing us both.’

‘That,’ Michael agreed as he withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair, ‘is a distinct possibility.’

—

Hawke stroked the bow over the strings of the cello and closed his eyes as he played the last bars of the music. The final notes hung in the air before his hearing caught the harsh edge of another sound. He opened his eyes and stared into the cloudless blue sky with a scowl. He looked down at his dog Tet who wagged his tail in response.

‘Yeah.’ Hawke muttered and got to his feet. He picked up the camping stool and the cello and made his way back to the porch. Caitlin came out to greet him wiping her hands on a towel.

‘You finished already?’ She kissed him as his arms slid around her. ‘I was enjoying the music.’

‘We’ve got a visitor.’ Hawke said gesturing behind him at the sky.

Caitlin glanced into the nothingness and bit back a smile. ‘Who?’

‘Michael.’ Hawke said. ‘Or Marella.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s the FIRM helicopter anyway.’

‘I’d better wake Dom.’ Caitlin said. ‘He’s snoring away on the couch.’

‘And you managed to hear the cello?’ Hawke teased.

‘Dom snoring away is going to seem peaceful when my folks land tomorrow.’ Caitlin warned him.

Hawke winced. Most of Caitlin’s family were arriving the next day for the wedding. He couldn’t decide if he was pleased or not.

‘How’s your headache?’ Caitlin asked. Hawke had suffered mild concussion from Rimmington’s blow to his head.

Hawke sighed as the sound of the rotors filled the clearing and the white helicopter rounded the mountain, flying towards them over the lake. ‘I think it might be coming back.’

Caitlin patted his chest sympathetically and made her way inside.

Hawke waited on the porch as the helicopter landed. Michael climbed out of the helicopter, followed by Marella. It looked like the Committee hearings were over, Hawke thought. He hadn’t seen Michael since their meeting in Washington a few days previously and hadn’t spoken to him since the congratulatory call from the spy. Hawke straightened and frowned at the serious expressions on the faces of the two agents as they approached.

‘Hawke.’ Michael greeted the pilot with a firm handshake. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘You too.’ Hawke gestured. ‘No Angelina?’

‘Not this time.’ Michael said shaking his head. ‘I’m afraid this is business.’

‘You all done in Washington?’ Hawke asked.

Michael hesitated. ‘I probably should tell all three of you at once.’

Hawke shrugged. ‘Come on in.’ He led the way back into the cabin. There was a flurry of greetings and it took a few minutes for them all to gather around the fire with mugs of coffee. Hawke leaned on the mantel, his blue eyes briefly landing on the photo of his brother before he fixed his gaze on Michael.

‘OK, Michael. What gives?’

Hawke’s quiet question silenced the other conversations that had been taking place. Michael stroked his moustache and gestured at the pilot. ‘We have news.’

‘I take it this isn’t good news.’ Hawke surmised as he lowered himself to sit on the hearthstone.

Michael shook his head. ‘The Senate Oversight Committee announced their recommendations yesterday.’

‘And?’ Dom asked impatiently from his position on the sofa.

Michael nodded at Marella.

‘And they’re recommending the FIRM be merged with the Company.’ She concluded. Technically they had just kept to Michael’s agreement with Zeus; he hadn’t told Hawke, she had.

‘The Company?’ Dom asked. ‘But I hear those guys are pretty ruthless.’

Michael smiled. ‘They specialise in covert international ops and yes, they do have a reputation for ruthlessness and expediency.’ He raised his mug at Dom. ‘Even more so than the FIRM.’

‘I wasn’t going to say anything.’ Dom denied huffily.

‘We both cover a lot of the same territory.’ Marella said shoving her hands in the pockets of her white flight suit. ‘From a politician’s perspective, it makes financial sense to have our two organisations operating as a single entity.’

‘Politics.’ Hawke spat the word out like it was a profanity. He looked more closely at Michael’s expression. ‘You’re worried about this.’

Michael sighed. ‘I’m almost positive that this merger will happen, Hawke.’

‘Will you be OK?’ Hawke asked concerned.

‘Quite honestly I don’t know.’ Michael admitted. ‘When the merger happens, I’m not certain how long it will be before I would no longer be in a position to assist you. The Company is the larger of the agencies and they’ll take over operations. Realistically, my division may well be disbanded.’ He pressed his lips together and nodded again at Marella.

‘We’re managing a project which is highly valuable. One that we had hoped to get you involved with eventually.’ She said sighing. Again, at least Michael could honestly say he hadn’t told Hawke about the project, she thought.

Hawke raised a single eyebrow as he looked from Marella to Michael and back. ‘You both seem a little nervous.’

Michael gave a small smile. ‘You’re not going to like it.’

‘When do we ever?’ Dom laughed.

‘Just spit it out.’

‘We…er…brought some slides.’ Michael gestured. ‘I could take you through the presentation.’

Dom’s eyebrows shot up. ‘A presentation, huh?’

Hawke caught the amusement in Dom’s eyes and was hard pressed not to laugh when he caught Michael’s disgruntlement at the other man’s teasing. ‘Set it up, Michael.’

It took them a while to arrange the room and for Marella to set up a portable projection unit. They shifted chairs so they all had a good view of the screen. Dom moved a dining chair next to the screen for Michael before he took another. Marella took one easy chair; Caitlin took the other with Hawke perched on the arm next to her.

Hawke slipped his hand into Caitlin’s and leaned over to whisper in her ear. ‘You think he’ll mind if we make out in the back row.’

Caitlin grinned, her eyes twinkling at him. ‘If you want to go make out we can ditch this and go upstairs.’ She murmured.

‘Don’t tempt me.’ Hawke linked their fingers and smiled at her as Michael cleared his throat. They both turned to see him waiting in front of them.

‘I guess I should start by explaining a few things first.’ Michael adjusted his glasses. ‘You all remember after you took care of Jenkins and Airwolf II the Committee agreed to give me a free hand with the Airwolf project?’

‘We’re hardly likely to forget.’ Dom said laughing, rocking back in his chair.

‘It occurred to me then that it was likely that Airwolf would be surpassed by something faster, smarter and better equipped within another year maybe sooner.’ Michael leaned back. ‘In fact it was inevitable. Jenkin’s machine was essentially Airwolf but it was an improved design. Jenkins had the better machine.’

Hawke shook his head. ‘It wasn’t better.’

‘It was.’ Michael smiled. ‘Airwolf had a superior pilot.’

‘You know Michael whenever you start flattering me I start to get worried.’ Hawke said his blue eyes filled with suspicion.

Michael sighed. ‘You have to admit Hawke, in the past two years on pure specifications Airwolf has been outclassed or matched on several times.’

Hawke drained his coffee mug and set it aside not sure if he liked the direction of the conversation. ‘The Lady’s always stood up when tested Michael.’

‘I know but it was time to start thinking about what came after her.’ Michael kept his gaze on the pilot. ‘So after Airwolf II I began a project with the sole aim of designing a successor to Airwolf.’

Hawke shook his head, a slow anger starting to burn in his gut and his hand tightened on Caitlin’s. He didn’t need to look at Dom to know the older man was glaring at Michael. ‘You’re unbelievable. You’re actually telling me that you put together a project that rendered my agreement with you useless?’

‘I truly believed we would find out the fate of your brother one way or another before the project completed.’ Michael said forcefully.

‘Sure, that’s why you’re only telling me now.’ Hawke returned angrily. He stood up as though to walk away.

‘He’s not even supposed to be telling you now, Hawke. He had a direct order from Zeus not to tell you.’ Marella spoke up furiously. ‘He’s risking everything being here.’

Hawke’s eyes flashed at her before they pinned Michael in a wave of angry blue. ‘Is it that true?’

‘The project has the highest security rating. It’s meant to be completely confidential and yes, I’m breaking a direct order telling you about it.’ Michael admitted.

‘Why?’ Hawke demanded.

Michael shifted uncomfortably. ‘Because despite what the FIRM thinks about this project, I intend to keep my promise to find your brother, Hawke; I always did.’

Hawke considered Michael’s sincere expression and felt the hot wave of righteous anger die away. He subsided back onto his seat. ‘OK, Michael. You have my attention.’

‘Michael, I might be being particularly dense but why would we be interested in being involved with this new project?’ Caitlin said. ‘I mean we’re only involved with Airwolf to find Saint John.’

‘She has a point.’ Hawke repressed a smile at seeing Michael’s frustration. ‘If we had found out about my brother before this project came to fruition why would we want to be involved?’

‘You three know more about what a helicopter like Airwolf needs in real situations than anybody else in the world and,’ Michael gestured at them, ‘I need people I trust and that’s you.’

There was a stunned silence.

‘Besides,’ Michael said eventually, ‘the fact the FIRM is being taken over changes things. Look, just listen to my pitch on the new prototype before you decide anything.’ He clicked a button on the remote in his hand and the screen switched on. Three slides in and despite Michael’s obvious enthusiasm Hawke was bored. He was also aware that Dom and Caitlin knew he was bored and were amused.

‘Michael,’ Hawke interrupted him mid-flow on some point about computer advances, ‘you want to cut to the chase here.’

Michael glowered at him. ‘Would it kill you for once to sit through one of my presentations?’

‘I don’t know but I’m fairly certain the cause of death would be boredom.’ Hawke shot back as Caitlin sniggered beside him.

Michael continued to glower at him and then fast-forwarded through the slides to a picture. It was an artist’s impression of the new aircraft. Caitlin stopped laughing and her eyes widened with pleased surprise; Dom muttered a prayer in Italian under his breath and Hawke…Hawke let go of Caitlin’s hand and stood up to move closer to the screen.

Instant recognition.

It was undoubtedly Airwolf but there was something more…it looked sleeker and deadlier. Hawke reached out to touch the drawing and dropped his hand. He lowered himself back onto the chair arm and rubbed his chin as Michael looked at him in triumph. The last time he’s seen that look in Hawke’s eyes was the first time the pilot had laid eyes on the original Airwolf.

‘I admit she’s beautiful on paper Michael.’ Hawke gestured at the screen. ‘How far on are you?’

Michael smiled. ‘She’s almost ready for build.’

‘You’re kidding.’ Dom was astounded. ‘But if you’ve only been working on this since we blew up Jenkins…’

‘We had a head-start.’ Michael admitted. ‘Jenkins wasn’t as smart as Moffett. He left behind all his designs in the FIRM’s back up computer. All I needed was a team to reverse engineer and then improve on them.’

‘Karen Hansen is leading the computer and technology side so we also have the benefit of her knowledge of the original Airwolf computer programming.’ Marella added. ‘We’ve also got a top notch aeronautical engineering team.’

Michael smoothed his moustache. ‘They estimate the design phase will be complete in another month and we’ll start building. I’m hoping to have her ready for testing around the start of eighty-seven.’

‘And you were seriously expecting that we would have found Saint John by then?’ Dom asked sceptically shaking his head.

‘Yes.’ Michael frowned. ‘The information we got from Tania Bening was the most comprehensive we’ve gotten. I’m certain your brother is working for one of the intelligence agencies.’ He gestured at Hawke. ‘I just need a little time to verify which and I think I may have just worked out the most likely suspect.’

‘How?’ Hawke asked puzzled.

‘Your name and our agreement came up during the Committee hearings.’ Michael said. ‘It gave me the opportunity to challenge the other intelligence agencies on the whereabouts of your brother.’

‘You went on a fishing expedition in the middle of a Senate Oversight Committee hearing?’ Dom started laughing. ‘I have to hand it to you, Mikey, that took some guts.’

‘Thank you.’ Michael said dryly his good eye still on Hawke.

Hawke stared at the spy. His mouth was dry and he could hear his heart beating. His fingers tightened around Caitlin’s. ‘And?’ He forced the word out.

‘And the Company director was the one who took the bait.’ Michael said.

‘The agency the FIRM’s likely to merge with?’ Caitlin’s voice rose with every word.

‘The very one.’ Michael confirmed.

‘Ah, come on, Michael.’ Dom argued seeing the light of hope in Hawke’s eyes and hoping Michael hadn’t put it there falsely. ‘How can you possibly know for certain? The guy might have just had gas.’

‘I know.’ Michael insisted. ‘And once we’re merged it wouldn’t take long to find out.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Caitlin.

‘If we’re merged, we’ll have full access to their computer system…’ Marella’s dark eyes positively gleamed with feral anticipation. ‘Getting information about their operatives including Saint John Hawke if he is one, in theory should be easy.’

There was another silence whilst they all absorbed how close they could be to finally knowing what had happened with Hawke’s brother. It was Hawke who broke the moment clearing his throat and gesturing at the screen.

‘So your original plan was to get us involved during the test phase?’

Michael nodded. ‘That was the original plan. Still will be if this merger doesn’t happen.’

‘And if the merger does happen?’ Hawke asked.

‘The Company isn’t likely to disband the new project. The director of the Company went on record at the hearing as saying his agency would look to continue the project.’ Michael said. ‘What is unknown is what they would decide about the existing Airwolf.’ He shrugged. ‘They may decide to honour our agreement and leave me in charge or they may give you a different liaison. They may decide to effectively close you down with lack of support or come after you. You could take the easy option if the merger happens; handover Airwolf and be involved with my project.’ He held Hawke’s gaze. ‘I’ll keep to our agreement and find your brother.’

Hawke returned his gaze to the screen. ‘I won’t hand over Airwolf without my brother.’

‘Fine. Keep her. Just join this project too.’ Michael said. ‘If they don’t hold to the agreement, I will.’

Hawke’s blue eyes narrowed. ‘There must be a catch in this somewhere.’

‘You have to continue working with Michael?’ Marella suggested. Her dark eyes twinkling as Michael shot her a dirty look.

Dom laughed. ‘Ah that’s a catch all right.’

Hawke glanced at Dom and then at Caitlin. The warmth of their support shining in their eyes caught his breath for an instant; they would be with him whatever he decided. He sighed and looked back at Michael. ‘I guess we have a deal.’

Michael rose to his feet and held out his hand solemnly. Hawke stood up and took it in a firm clasp with equal solemnity.

‘Well.’ Dom grinned broadly. ‘This is cause for a celebration, huh? Don’t you have some fancy bottle of wine put away for this kinda thing?’

‘I’ll get it.’ Hawke headed for the kitchen. He’d put a bottle of decent wine in the fridge to chill earlier. He returned to find them all stood around the slide of the Airwolf picture discussing the merits of the new design. He handed out the glasses of wine and a comfortable silence fell on the group.

‘So, what should we toast?’ Caitlin asked as Hawke’s arm slid around her waist.

‘How about to Airwolf?’ Marella suggested. ‘Old and new?’

Dom shook his head. ‘How about to possibilities?’

Hawke inclined his head towards Michael. ‘To friends?’ It was a recognition, the spy realised; a recognition by Hawke of the choice Michael had made when he’d decided to tell the pilot about the project.

Michael met Hawke’s eyes firmly. ‘To loyalty.’ He suggested.

Hawke’s blue eyes warmed at the spy. ‘To loyalty.’ He agreed solemnly.

fin.

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